Evernight (The Night Watchmen Series Book 2) (12 page)

She’s pleased. It’s there in her gloating smile. She fixes her hair and straightens her jacket like she so often does. “This is a precaution, Faye, and if you think about saying anything about this little discussion, then I’ll have you and your friends permanently separated. But if you do as I say, when I say, then all of this will go in your favor. Who knows, you might even be able to find out what happened to your parents.” She leans in to my ear. “But if you don’t, then maybe what happened to them will happen to your friends.”

I’m vibrating from head to toe in anger. Seeing myself kill her over and over until there’s nothing left of her body. Until there’s nothing left of the person I once was.

“You know about my parents?” I ask so low that I can barely hear the words myself. “How do you know that?”

She stands back up. Smoothes down the front of her skirt. “No,” she says shortly. “I don’t.”

“But you said—”

“One slip up, Faye,” she says hotly, cutting me off. “One slip up and the family you have left disappears. Got it?”

Threats. Ones I can’t escape. Threats that pin me down by the arms and legs with thick hands covering my mouth. Pinching my nose. Suffocating me. My teeth grind against each other. My fists clench and unclench, seeking release. Slowly, I look up at her and nod.

Because for the first time in my life, I have no other choice.

B
Y THE TIME FOUR ROLL
S
around, I’ve managed to chew through the side of my tongue.

I can’t stop thinking about how Clara seems to have perfected the art of manipulation. Like maybe she’s trained for this her entire life, these specific moments where she takes people—beautiful, whole people—and picks them apart, piece by painful piece, until they’re fragmented shards of who they used to be without a chance in hell at putting themselves back together.

Maddock… me… the countless other names I’ve yet to hear of. And who knows, maybe even her poor sister Claire.

In a matter of ten hours, since she’s shown me her true colors, she’s taken every bit of my resolve and shoved it into a blender. Chopped it up into a mushy, indistinguishable pile. Weldon and Gavin, and everyone else had said that soon enough, we would know her motive for releasing us all. Well, unfortunately, she’s decided to share it only with me.

It is because their lives are a means to getting what she wants from me. Nothing more, nothing less.

Since Clara retreated with her two Elites, I’ve sat in the middle of this room with the camera zoomed in on me from the left corner. My eyes have remained focused on the same spot on the floor—the small blotch of dried-up blood I spit at her feet hours ago. My back has stiffened into a straight line I’m not sure I can ever bend again. I’ve lost feeling in my bottom and my hands that I sit on.

“Show me something of interest. Something I can work with. Something I can build off,” she had said on her way out.

So I sat down, crossed my legs, and pretended I was anywhere but here.

The first half of the day was a whole lot of nothing. A whole lot of her entering and leaving the room, sometimes yelling, sometimes talking in a hushed whisper. But every time, telling me that I better do something. That I better not be trying to pull one over on her.

She doesn’t believe that I don’t know what she wants from me.

So she brought in small objects. Tested the strength of my magic by making me cast a number of spells, and when that proved satisfactory, she moved on to my volation skills. It was a series of tests, just like the ones I performed when kept in the Correctional Facility, and not a single one of them satiated whatever Clara is looking for in me.

I know this because she made a point to point it out. A million times over.

When four finally decides to show itself, Clara walks into the room, her lavender eyes tight and flashing with anger. “Tomorrow
will
be different. Tomorrow, you
will
show me something more than a deadpan stare. Do you understand?”

My lips are glued shut with betrayal and anger. They have been for hours now. I don’t look up at her when I nod. My head doesn’t even feel connected to my neck. My body doesn’t even feel connected to this moment. I’m positive I’ve entered hell. That this place couldn’t be any worse than the Underground. 

I think she huffs. “You may go.”

My legs somehow find the strength to stand, and I turn for the door. It’s half open when she adds, “And remember, Middleton, not a single word.”

Blood, screams, and horror. That’s what I see and hear. That’s what her words really mean.

The door slams shut behind me, and I can’t move quickly enough. My feet, my lungs, and my heart aren’t working hard enough, aren’t supplying me with enough oxygen to carry me to my freedom. To deliver me back to the safety of my friends. Back to the comfort of Jaxen’s arms.

Four Elites stand in front of the elevator, talking about some rumor concerning the Priesthood, but my ears barely register what they’re saying as I turn back and head for the stairs. I don’t want to be around anyone. Not a single person except for those I trust.

Two at a time, I rush down the stairs as heat flares up my body, wrapping my skin in bright pink. When I make it to the bottom, I shove through the door and continue running, heading in the direction I left Jaxen and the others this morning.

My mind is in so many places, yet nowhere at all. It’s filled with all these words, all these truths and secrets that don’t fit, yet can’t be released. The faces around me blur as sweat drips into my eyes. I reach up to wipe it away when a shoulder slams into mine.

Hands latch onto my arms, stopping me before I can take off again, and I almost scream. My mouth opens wide and all the emotions that have beaten against my heart and hammered against my skull rush up my throat, dying for their escape.

But his voice suspends them.

“Faye? What’s wrong!” Jaxen asks, squeezing my arms tightly. Shaking me until I look at him. I blink a million times until my vision clears enough for me to find his green eyes. For me to see the panic that’s so plainly taken over the rough features of his face.

Without thinking, I throw my arms around his neck and hug him to me.
He’s here. He’s safe. He’s alive.
I press my eyes closed and inhale his leathery scent. Dig my fingers through his hair. Never has he felt this good in my arms. His touch alone jumpstarts my heart back to life. Kick starts my brain into thinking the nightmare was just that—a nightmare, and nightmares have no place in the world only the two of us share. 

His arms slowly give and wrap around my waist, holding me close. I feel his chin nuzzle into the curve of my neck. Feel his lips press against the sensitive skin, sending a small chill down my spine.

“Faye, tell me. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No,” I force out against every part of me that wants to say yes.

“Then what’s wrong? Why are you shaking?” He lets go of my waist and forces me to step back so he can look at me. His eyes are taking stock of every body part, stopping just at my lip. His brow dips.  “You’re cut.” Anger flashes within his pupils. “Who the hell—?”

Tears push behind my eyes, so I force them on the wall. Anywhere but on his face. The face that offers me safety… offers me a kind gaze I know I can confide in.

“Faye, tell me,” he says, gentler this time, and I think my heart has withered away.

I want to cut my tongue out because I’m scared I won’t be able to keep the truth in. That I won’t be able to stop myself from spilling every awful moment that has transpired since I left him this morning.

This isn’t about me. This is about him. About all of them and their safety.

I steel myself, grab his hand, and pull it from my mouth, swallowing past the desert that’s managed to lodge itself in my throat. “Fight training,” I say, my voice as brittle as glass. “I… I was clumsy.” I cover my mouth with my hand and use just enough magic to make the mark disappear. “See? All better.”

His brow presses into a hard line. His lip twitches, and I know I’m in for it. I know he doesn’t buy it, and he’s not going to give up until I spew every last secret Clara wants me to keep. Until I’ve dug his grave for him, six feet under, fresh and ready for her vengeance to send him into the next life.

“Jaxen, I’m telling you, I’m fi—”

“Look who it is!” I hear from behind me.

My sigh of relief is louder than I want it to be, but thankfully, Jaxen doesn’t notice.

Gavin slaps my back and squeezes my shoulder. “I see you made it through your first day in hell. Can’t say the same for myself.”

He has a shiner. A large one on his left eye. “Wha—what happened?” I ask, feeling a small bit of relief in his wound, and a large amount of guilt for having that feeling. But it will help my case… my lie. It will help Jaxen believe me when I tell him that Clara isn’t a… isn’t a monster.

“Well, you see, what happened was…” he says, adjusting the hem of his pants and brushing a hand through his hair.

Cassie starts laughing as she and Jezi walk up behind him. “Is he trying to tell you stories?” she asks as she slides her hand over Gavin’s shoulder. She rests it on his chest, stopping right in front of him. “What happened was… Gavin’s finally met his match.” She passes her hand over his eye and, with the movement and a little bit of magic, the shiner is gone.

Gavin huffs loudly, looks off to the side, and then back over at me. “In all fairness, the dude was like bred from giants or something.”

“It’s okay,” Cassie says, patting his chest. “I still think you’re man enough.”

Jezi snickers, and it warrants a heated glare from Gavin, which does little to nothing in curbing her laughter.

He rolls his eyes, and then looks back at us. “Look, I don’t know about you, but I’m covered in sweat. I need a shower, and then dinner,” Gavin says.

“And maybe a healthy dose of humble pie,” Jezi adds, pretending to examine her nails.

“No,” Gavin drags out, “that was already served to me at practice, thank you very much.” He kisses Cassie’s forehead, and then sets his eyes on Jaxen. “Want to meet up later for dinner?”

Jaxen looks over at me. He’s asking me without asking me.

“Yes,” I say, even going as far as adding a smile. “I’m famished.”

Just the thought of food makes my stomach turn, but they can’t know that. They can’t suspect a single thing, and judging by the easy smiles on their faces, I don’t think they do. Even Jaxen seems to be loosening up a little in his stance.

Success tastes bitter.

I never knew I could be such a good liar. I didn’t realize just how little I really know about myself. Just how far I can be pushed to do things I swore only yesterday I would never do.

“Good, so then let’s say… an hour from now, we meet back at the taco stand?” Gavin asks, throwing his arm over Cassie’s shoulder. She leans into him, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“Ugh, not tacos again,” Jezi protests, unzipping the top of her uniform just enough to show a little bit of cleavage. “Why don’t we try sushi?”

“Hell no,” Gavin says with disgust, sticking out his tongue.

A few of the Elites in training walking past us slow and stare at Jezi, their eyes crawling up and down her frame. I think she likes it, because she flicks her hair back over her shoulder and smiles in their direction.

Jaxen doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are still on me, still trying to figure out my earlier distress.

“There’s got to be a vendor who sells Chinese and sushi,” Cassie says. “Let’s meet in the middle.”

“Fine. Whatever,” Gavin says, and then he and Cassie head past us for the front door.

The three of us follow behind them, heading back to our rooms. Jaxen doesn’t say another word about my earlier state of mind, and I’m glad for it because I’m not so sure I could continue with the lies.

“Where’s Weldon?” I ask when we make it into the building. I want to think about everyone else and their problems… because mine are like hundred-pound weights that I’m too weak to carry. They’re like snares planted by Clara, just waiting for me to step into.

“He left early,” Jezi says. “He didn’t see eye to eye with the instructors, so they dismissed him for the day to get himself in check. The usual shit he pulls.”