Evernight (The Night Watchmen Series Book 2) (38 page)

“And Clara?” I ask, my hands flying up to my mouth. I bite down on my nails, chewing away at my nervousness.

“They found nothing in the warehouse to incriminate her, or connect her presence there.”

My blood dries up, and my knees waver.

“Then they must have made a mistake,” Jaxen says, clenching his fists at his sides. “They must have overlooked something. You have to send my brother and me in. We can do a clean sweep. Ensure that every inch is covered.”

“Though appreciated, that won’t be necessary,” Seamus says, still reeling with information to spill. “My men also raided her home after she was removed. It was there that we were able to connect her to the warehouse. In her private den, she had letters upon letters written by who we assume are recruits for the Darkyn Coven. They all address her as their leader, and they all pledged their allegiance to her cause.”

Air rushes back into my lungs. Thank the Goddess.

“And what cause is that?” Weldon asks. He’s sitting forward now, not letting one word slip past his ears.

Seamus reaches for a glass of water on his desk. His hand shakes when he brings it to his mouth to drink. I want to keep him from answering because I know whatever it is, it will be the end of everything. It will be the end of my fantasy of walking out of this city with no other obligations. However, the curiosity inside of me pushes that thought out of the way and shoves words past my lips.

“What cause, Seamus?” I ask on bated breath.

He sets the water down. Licks his lips. Looks up at us with a renewed sense of duty to remain strong. “To awaken Mourdyn in the Underground,” he declares, like he didn’t just say something insane, as if he didn’t just tell me that impossible now means possible.

Hope cradles dread in a deadly dance around us. This is good for all the wrong reasons. I skip past the obvious problem… that no one in their right mind would want Mourdyn awakened, and jump to what matters right now. “But that’s enough for the Priesthood to convict her of treason then, right?” I ask, refusing to think about what would happen if her ‘cause’ actually had its way.

“It would be… if Edgar and two other Priestesses’ on the Priesthood hadn’t stepped in and vouched for her,” Seamus says. “That’s four against three, and they have the power to outvote us.”

I look up at him, and it’s then that I notice the dark circles under his eyes. The slight tremble to his hands. “Who are the other two?” I ask.

“Celeste Moonweather and Evelyn Carter,” Seamus says.

“Wait—Carter… as in the Witch-hating family?” Jaxen asks, looking over at me.

Chett… Katie’s affinity partner.
I didn’t know they had family on the Priesthood, that they had a hand in the bag.

“I wouldn’t throw around accusations such as that,” Seamus says, looking around the room like someone’s surely listening in.

“Oh, come off it,” Weldon says, leaning forward. “You know as well as I do that their family has been notorious for the small rallying against the affinity bond. And against Witches in general.”

“But why would she help Clara? Clara’s a Witch… and a conniving one at that,” I say, praying that this hasn’t reached Katie. Praying she’s okay and not suffering because of me. Because of my need for revenge.

“Yes, but if she succeeds in obtaining the cure to breaking the affinity bond, then I think her side would be the best to stand on,” Weldon explains. “I told you, Faye… no one is trustworthy in this city.” He looks to Seamus. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Seamus says, sounding like his mind is light-years away from us. “Weldon’s right. Clara’s the closest to reaching a cure since the Divine announced the proclamation and wove the spell that placed the bond on all of us. Without their presence and ruling, the Priesthood is all that stands in the way overthrowing it.”

“But not if she has the backing of half the Priesthood,” I say, seeing the picture coming together.

“She always did have the charm of a politician,” Weldon says with a sneer.

“Exactly,” Seamus agrees quietly, sadly. “Clara will be held until we have a trial, but I’m afraid that if we can’t find enough to pin her down, we’ll lose. They say she was working undercover, trying to pinpoint the Darkyn’s plans with the seals by pretending to be one of them. They’re saying this was her backup plan should you fail in getting us into the Underground. If she has access, then she could secure the Exanimator, thus putting an end to the Darkyn’s powers. They want to make her into a patron saint for our Coven.”

“Are you kidding me?” I blurt out, feeling the future slipping through my fingers.

“This is complete bullshit,” Jaxen growls out.

“It is, and I am not, Miss Middleton,” Seamus says grimly. “There are too many hands in the pot that want the proclamation brought down. The only way of doing this is ending the affinity bond as we know it. The only way of doing that is finding the way to split our powers without losing them. Clara’s the only one who has come close to that. She believes the answer lies in your veins. In your makeup. If she can get her hands on the Exanimator, then she will have everything she needs to see that dream realized.”

“Surely not everyone will want this,” I say, clutching my throat, pulling at some invisible force that’s choking me. Jaxen’s grip tightens around my hand, trying to offer me comfort, but comfort doesn’t fit inside of fear.

Seamus’ eyes flatten, dull. His mouth opens, but then a buzzing sound goes off before a face forms on the screen on his desk. “High Priest Seamus?” a female voice asks. The same voice that always appears on the screen.

“Yes?” he asks, smoothing out his composure. Appearing as if he hadn’t just spoke of the end of all things as we know it.

“You have a call from High Priest Edgar Robinson,” the female voice says.

Weldon and Jaxen lock eyes.

“Put him through, please.” He looks over at me, eyebrows raised, telling me to stay quiet. Alert.

“Seamus?” Edgar’s voice says a moment later.

“Yes, Edgar. How can I help you?”

Edgar laughs shortly, the sound forced and strained. “Well, you can start by releasing Clara from the Correctional Facility. This is absolutely absurd.”

Weldon rolls his eyes. Jaxen tenses up.

“Is it?” Seamus asks calmly.

Edgar draws in a sharp breath. “You can’t for one second think—”

“I can and I do, Edgar. There is no need for your deception here. I am well aware of your alliance between Clara, Celeste, and Evelyn.”

There’s a long moment of silence. I wonder if Edgar’s hung up. Imagining what his frown must look like, I wish I could see it for myself.

“Is the Everlasting with you?” Edgar finally says. This time, there is no formality in his voice. No yearning to keep the peace. It’s all business.

Seamus’ eyes never waver. “No,” he lies. “She’s training with General Sterling, preparing for the Holy Seal mission.”

“You’re choosing the wrong side, Seamus. Protecting the wrong woman. The Everlasting cannot be trusted. She is a detriment to this Coven should she come into her powers and fully realize what she’s capable of.”

“And what’s that?” Seamus asks.

“Domination. Rebellion. Heresy. Her face is already being passed around from city to city. There was already talk of her encounter with Bael. They’ve painted her as some kind of war hero, though we both know she barely made it out with her skin intact. But now this … now Clara. It’s rumored that she’s planning to take down the Priesthood. That she wants to implement a new government after she delivers us from the proclamation.”

I can feel the waves of anger rolling off Jaxen. His entire body is shaking, and I fear he might find a way to reach through that small screen and kill Edgar.

“This is all talk, Edgar. You can’t for a second believe any of it.” He removes his glasses and begins to rub his forehead.

“I do believe it. Clara has seen Mary’s prediction. She knows what’s in store for the girl.”

Weldon jumps out of his seat. Jaxen lets go of my hand, a millisecond away from taking control of the conversation. My stomach freezes when he speaks my mother’s name. I lean forward as questions come barreling up my throat, but Seamus locks eyes with each and every one of us.
Don’t.
It’s there, in the air between us.

“How was she able to obtain those? Mary went missing the night before the Culling,” Seamus asks for me.

Edgar stumbles over his words. “Well, I’m not quite sure how. But it is accurate. The girl will be the one to break the affinity bond, and if no one controls her along the way, she will be the end of the Priesthood as we know it.”

“I guess we won’t know until it happens then, Edgar. If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting.” He clicks the screen off before Edgar can get in another word.

“She’s the reason my parents are gone. She knows where they are,” I say, trying to keep myself from shrinking into fear. “I need to speak to her… to make her talk. I need to know what she’s done with them.”

“You should have pressed him harder! Made him tell you how he knew that!” Weldon says, hands planted on Seamus’ desk.

He addresses Weldon first. “I did what I could.” Turns to me. “You can’t speak to her, Faye. She’s in a holding cell in the Correctional Facility. No one is permitted to see her until the trial.” He sighs heavily. “I’ll see what I can find out in the meantime. I’ll talk to those who worked under her. Maybe one of them will have some information on how she was able to get a hold of your mother’s vision of your future.”

“Okay,” I say, unsure of what else to do. Unsure of everything now.

“How soon?” Jaxen asks, holding me together by holding my hand.

“I was hoping for a little bit more time. But that’s another reason why I have summoned you here today. We move tonight with the Holy Seal Mission. No more time to train,” Seamus says directly. “There was a letter brought to me shortly after our raid on the warehouse. It seems our raid has rattled them.” Opening a drawer in his desk, he pulls out the note.

I take it from him.

The paper falls from my hands as I drop onto a chair. I feel sick, choked even, by invisible hands that hold my head right over top of a spinning saw blade. They have everything over me, and I have nothing against them. Jaxen eyes me over, and then grabs the paper from off the floor. A second later, he curses under his breath.

“This has all gone to shit,” he says, slamming the paper on Seamus’ desk.

Weldon reads it, and then says, “When it rains, it pours.”

“So what now, Seamus?” Jaxen asks, plunging his hands through his hair. “We do as they ask and bring on the war of the century? Awaken the one person who has the power to destroy everything?”

“I’m just as upset about this, Jaxen,” Seamus says, gripping the edges of his desk.

“Too bad your emotions have no power to fix this,” Weldon says snidely. “I knew we should have never put that Dagger back together. We should have destroyed it then.”

“This is what Clara has wanted all along,” I say blindly. “She’s getting her way.”

“She always gets her way,” Jaxen says. He hangs his head, his eyes scanning the floor.

Time falls away from me. I’m gripping the edges of the chair, trying to keep from tipping over. From curling into a ball and crying away every emotion in my body.

“I want permission to head back to the Academy,” Jaxen says forcefully. “If we’re going to put our asses on the line, I want to do it under the advisory of my Elder.”

“Maddock?” Seamus asks in surprise.

Jaxen nods.

The Priest sighs heavily. He looks too tired to fight. “You know that isn’t possible. Her presence will only further endanger the novices, and Maddock’s presence is needed at the school. Now more than ever. You’ll plan from here and, when the seal is broken, I want you to return Faye here until we make the move on the Unholy Seal. We can’t risk the Darkyns getting a hold of her. Not now.”

“And what about the kids at the Academy?” I ask in panic. “They won’t keep their word. They never do.”

Seamus doesn’t have to answer me because I already know. The line between good and evil has shown itself. Both sides may stand for different causes, but in the end, they are not different. They will both sacrifice anyone and anything to win. They will both stop at nothing to have their way.