Evernight (The Night Watchmen Series Book 2) (31 page)

He pauses, and then smiles the moment her mouth drops open, like it’s the exact look he was going for.

“Now,” he says with pure satisfaction, “put your feisty temper away and save it for later.” When he removes his finger, her lips are sealed shut. Her eyes are scrunched, staring at him as if she’s never seen him before. Like the man before us is a new, maybe even…
hot
… stranger.

I bite back a smile.

He spins on his heel, giving Jaxen a knowing grin. I drop my gaze to hide the blush that blooms behind my cheeks. “Now that you’re on your way to manhood, can we please head out? We have to be up early for General Tightass, and I don’t want to be worn out.”

Gavin chuckles behind him. I wish there were a shadow I could find and hide in forever. I wish embarrassment would find another set of cheeks to live on. Daring to look at Jaxen, I find that his cheeks match mine, although his body is still held rigid and confident.

“So, what’s the plan?” Cassie asks as Gavin squats down to his duffel bag filled with weapons. He starts passing out guns and fluxes.

“Oh, wait… did all of you think you were coming?” Weldon asks, looking confused.

“Cut the shit, Weldon,” Gavin says.

Weldon cringes. “I’ve always hated that expression.” He drops his smiles. “But seriously, if she’s going to learn, she can’t have a bunch of people holding her hand, and I can only worry about moving so many through shadows. This will go a hell of a lot smoother if it’s just the three of us.”

“Three?” Jezi says defensively. “You can’t be serious. I’m his Witch, Weldon. He needs—”

“Correction,” Weldon says, cutting her off, “he needs you
or
Faye. And right now, he alone is her best chance at digging deep enough to break past that mental block she’s created for herself.”

Jezi curses under her breath, stalking off.

“Smooth,” Cassie says to Weldon before chasing after her.

Gavin walks up to Jaxen. “Take care of her, bro.”

Jaxen nods.

When they’re all gone, Weldon walks around the statue and stops just before a small shadow. “Same deal,” he says. “Line up and keep one hand on the person in front of you.”

“Isn’t this… dangerous?” I ask, suddenly unsure.

“Yes,” he says honestly, “but what other option do we have? You want to incriminate Clara? You want real training? This is real life, mouse. It’s scary and real, and more often than not… it’s dangerous. You have to take chances in order to get anywhere.”

“Where are you taking us?” Jaxen asks, his tone even and controlled, despite the awkwardness in the air. I’m staring straight ahead, trying to keep my heart calm and my bravery in check.

“You said she needed to dive in head first. You know me… I love killing two birds with one stone.” He flicks a glance at me over his shoulder. His golden eyes are liquid with mischief. “Hold your breath, mouse. And get your stones ready.”

TRAVELING THROUGH A SHADOW IS nothing like I remembered it. It’s one of those instances in life where in the moment, you swear you’ll never do it again, but then later down the road, your mind forgets the horrible details and you end up back in the same pain you were in before.

As the darkness pulls me in, it feels like it’s also pulling at the very essence of what makes me alive. Like all the joy, pain, love, hope… everything that makes me who I am, is gone. I’m numb. For a moment, I become lost and I’m trying so desperately to cage the woodpeckers hammering away inside my chest.

But then Jaxen latches onto my arm and yanks as hard as he can. The fog lifts like a clouded veil. “You okay?” he asks, searching my eyes with concern. Rubbing my cheeks with his rough thumbs.

I nod more times than necessary. Swallow the harsh lump in my throat, because I didn’t expect to be standing in my parent’s living room. I didn’t expect for my home to still smell like my home, even after all the items had been boxed up and the furniture had been covered with white sheets. I feel like I’m standing in the middle of an old movie theater, watching memories pass across the screen, with no way to turn them off.

“Why did you bring me here?” I ask, my voice distant, strained.

“This isn’t a hunt, Weldon. This isn’t what we agreed upon,” Jaxen says tightly.

“No one agreed on anything,” Weldon says, brushing Jaxen’s words away. “You asked me to help, well, this is me helping. Here’s your lead. Your parents started this mission. They discovered who the culprit was,” Weldon says.

“Yes, but any evidence they had would have been removed by now, especially if it was Clara behind it,” Jaxen says, like he’s two seconds from choking the life out of Weldon.

“I’ve thought of that already,” Weldon points out. He moves to one of the couches and yanks the sheet off, sending dust through the air, then plops down on it. “But I also know that every good Watchman doesn’t leave their evidence out in the open. I was just hoping that bringing Faye back would jar some memories stuck inside that pretty head of hers. Maybe something about where Russell and Mary would keep stuff they wouldn’t want just anyone finding.”

I see my mother sitting in the very spot Weldon now sits. The soft lamplight behind her, brightening the pages she scribbles on. The pencil tucked in her hair and the pen in her hand, fervently moving across the pages of her Grimoire. If I close my eyes tight enough, I can almost smell her perfume. I can almost feel her hands wrapped around me, holding me together.

“My mother’s Grimoire,” I force out, swallowing repeatedly but never once removing the lump in my throat. I close my eyes and focus on what it looked like, how it felt, what it smelled like, and manifest it into my hands. I don’t even breathe when I open my eyes. My heart feels like cracked porcelain. My face feels splintered together with forced strength. I haven’t opened it since I was in the Academy. “She was always writing in it. Always putting things away with spells.”

I walk over to the couch and have to squash the memory of my dad sitting near the lamp, sharpening his flux as I sit down. Jaxen follows my steps. Stands close by, watching… waiting.

I swallow hard and close my eyes again, letting myself connect with the book.
Show me
, I tell it, pushing my intent into its magic. The pages begin to lift and turn until they come to rest on a page three-quarters of the way through. My mother’s handwriting is all over it.

“It’s spelled with a cloaking spell. I can feel it.” There’s a blank page next to it. I look up at Jaxen, and then over to Weldon. They both nod, waiting for me to say the words to bring forth what my mother hid.

I say the spell and, slowly, the words spread across the page in my mother’s familiar handwriting. My eyes can’t graze fast enough. I grip the edges of the book, forcing myself to blink… to breathe.

Faye,

If you’re reading this, that means what your father and I have feared has come to pass. It also means that you’ve been brought closer to the truth of what we discovered, and that you’ve discovered who you truly are. My vision was never that you were a Defect. That part, I lied about. I saw a path that would bring many hardships. Some, in fact, that I feared would break your heart. Please understand that we only kept the truth from you to protect you… to keep you from the evils in this world.

But we were wrong.

Your father and I were assigned by Elder Maddock and High Priest Seamus to investigate another Elder who they believed was conspiring against the Coven with the intent on rebuilding the Darkyn Coven. They were right, only I don’t think they will want to hear the name we discovered.

Clara Ravensmoore.

Tonight, we followed one of the Witches involved with her. In his home, we found plans to dig up a certain dagger that has the potential to start a revolution no one is prepared for. Part of this dagger is something that we protect, kept inside the cover of our Grimoire. It has been passed down from generation to generation, and it was my intention to tell you after you graduated from the Academy, should my vision come true.

You must never join the blade together. You must prevent Clara and Bael from acquiring these pieces. Once together, Mourdyn’s rising will become inevitable. You will have to finish what you start. Below, you’ll find an address to a warehouse. It’s where we discovered Clara. She is co-conspiring with Bael, and this warehouse is their headquarters. We intend to tell Maddock after your Culling, but if you’re reading this, then we never had the chance.

You must stop her. Turn her in. Do the right thing.

It’s the Eve before your Culling, and I just want you to know how proud I am to have been your mother. You’re my reason for being, Faye. You’ve been the light of my life, and I love you very much. Please find it in your heart to forgive me.

Love,

Mom

I can hardly speak. No matter how many times I swallow, the ever-growing lump in my throat won’t disappear. It’s burning, trying to sear its way through my skin until I have no choice but to let out the tears I’m so desperately trying to keep in.

Jaxen lays his hand on my shoulder, and I almost break in two.

“Vengeance isn’t real, Faye. You know that, right?” Weldon says carefully, tenderly.

I look up at him, shaking my head in confusion.

“It won’t undo what’s been done. It won’t fill the hole. It’s a pipe dream that those who have been scorned waste away on.”

I don’t take in his words. I can’t. “It has an address on the bottom of the page,” I force out, my voice embarrassingly shaky. “That’s where the operation is. That’s where we’ll find Clara.”

He sighs heavily. “What is it?”

“1010 Dockside Way.”

“I know that address,” Weldon says. He rubs his chin in thought. Leans back into the couch. A shade of color leeches from his face. “That’s the dockside where Bael’s demons hang. Darkyns too.” Pulling in a breath, he sits up straight with his hands cupping his thighs. “All right then.” He stands up. “Let’s go.”

I close the Grimoire, saying a quick spell to send it back to my room, then make my way over to Jaxen.

“Wait a minute,” Jaxen says, “we can’t just go barging in, Weldon. We don’t have enough manpower. Something’s bound to go wrong.”

Weldon walks over to Jaxen, flashes his impish smile, and then pulls us through a shadow.

“
W
HAT THE HELL!” JAXEN SAY
S
on a heightened whisper the moment we step out.

“Shhh!” Weldon says, his brow creased. “You’ll give us away.”

We’re standing on the edge of a dock bordering the Atlantic Ocean. An icy gust of wind cuts like daggers across my face, carrying the scent of salt. A six-story, old brick building is in front of us—a warehouse wrapped in dark magic.

“That wouldn’t be a possibility had you not brought us here,” Jaxen growls out, pulling me closer to him. His brow line creates a flat line across his forehead as he quickly scans the area for trouble the way any well-trained Hunter would. “This place is crawling with demons and Darkyns,” he says under his breath. There’s no mistaking the anger—the betrayal—in his words.

“Oh, quit whining. We’re not going inside or anything. I figured we could snoop around and see if this is a lead worth chasing.” He doesn’t wait for Jaxen to argue back. Instead, he grabs my hand and pulls me out of Jaxen’s clutches. “Coddling never got anyone anywhere.”