Evernight (The Night Watchmen Series Book 2) (4 page)

“
W
HERE AM I?” I AS
K
as I follow Clara’s strident steps down the cold, barren hallway. I keep my eyes trained on her feet and not the many glass display windows that show into the labs I’ve visited.

“The Disciplinary Ward in the Correctional Facility,” she says over her shoulder. “This is where every novice and Night Watchmen is placed when they think they can outsmart the proclamation and reject their affinity bond.”

The memory of my best friend Katie and her affinity partner Chett spears through my mind and stabs through my heart. Although it feels like a lifetime since I’ve seen or spoken to her, I can still see Chett’s hands bruising her as if it were yesterday. I can still hear his words wounding her because of the hate for Witches his mother instilled in him. But in the end, I intercepted his cruelty. By doing so, Chett was sent here, to this very facility, and I almost lost my best friend in the process.

“Why here?” I ask, the pain and confusion transparent in my voice. I swallow hard. “We haven’t rejected anything. We all came here willingly, at the Priesthood’s request.”

She grabs the lanyard around her neck that has a badge fastened onto it and holds it out, hovering it in front of a small scanner. Before she scans it, she turns to me and says, “Because it was anticipated that some of your other team members wouldn’t be as cooperative and pliant as you have been. Here, our Coven has the tools and the means to restrain those who do not bend willingly.” She swipes the badge, and the door slides open.

The candor in her words has me by the throat, squeezing off my response. Rage blooms in my cheeks and across my skin. “So you-you locked them up like rabid animals too?” Jaxen’s face is forefront in my mind. The thought of him being locked in a room—like he can’t be trusted—and stuck within four walls that press in on the soul until you can’t form an easy breath, makes my entire being ache with an appetite for demolishing all who were involved.

My gaze sets on her. Volation crackles down my arms in angry, electric streaks. My temperature rises along with the cadence of my wildly beating heart.

It takes her a second to notice, but when she does, her eyes widen. “Faye,” she says calmly, kindly. Her head shakes, telling me not to do what she thinks I’m about to do. “It was only precautionary, and had I been in my position sooner, I would have had you all out. I was only given my seat on the High Priesthood yesterday.”

I breathe in her words. Let them calm me enough to put my volation away. The streaks absorb back into my skin. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly, ashamed of how quickly I reacted.

My behavior alone is the very thing they anticipated.

When she’s sure I have myself back under control, we continue down another long hallway, turn right, and then pass through another set of sliding doors. On the other side, my eyes immediately come to rest on a hunched form settled in a black chair across the room. Dark golden hair stands on end, as if his hands have plunged and pulled through every strand. Strong, thick muscles bulge beneath the same white jumpsuit marked with a series of letters and numbers like mine.

He must sense me because honey-golden eyes find mine and, all at once, Weldon sits straighter. The lines around his eyes shift from sorrow to hope. The frown on his lips slowly lifts, disappearing as if it were never there.

Standing up, he veers his gaze from me to Clara. He swallows so thickly that I see his throat bob, like he’s chewing on his own response, debating whether he should speak or not.

“Go, sit.” Clara dismisses me with a small smile when she pulls her eyes off Weldon. “I still have the rest of your team to release.”

I don’t hesitate. Rushing over to Weldon, I fall into his open arms. Although he’s not the exact person I’m looking for, I can’t help but let relief embrace us both as we hug. He squeezes me just as tight, and then, all at once, he lets go. Taking an awkward step back, he ruffles a hand through the back of his hair.

“I-uh-I told you that you’d regret coming here,” he says with an unsettling amount of certainty. His round, golden eyes dip into a pool of mischief, warming the grin on his face. A grin I’ve come to look for in our newfound partnership, appointed by Mack before the mission to retrieve the Dagger.

“That’s what you keep saying.” Forcing out on an exhale, I blow my pale blonde hair out of my face as we both take a seat next to each other. I can’t stop the smirk that’s plastered itself on my lips. He could tell me to eat crow right now and I’d still be smiling, still be content and overjoyed to have him back by my side again.

“Yeah, well, I’ll continue to say it. We never should have come here. We’re wasting time. Losing daylight… or whatever the hell the proper expression is.” He huffs loudly and leans forward, running his hands down the legs of his jumpsuit as if he’s pushing away demons that he can’t shake. “I hate being confined. It… it drives me insane.”

His entire body shivers, and I think my heart falls to my feet. I was so caught up in myself and in my own pain that I didn’t stop to think how this would affect him. How being locked away in a cage with no idea when or how he would get out would eat away at the shell he’s built around himself. I’ve seen his pain, as well as what he went through when he was trapped in the Underground.

Physical and mental torture, experimentation, being shoved into the Exanimator and electrocuted until he passed out. It’s a wonder he survived, and it’s unsurprising he came out as a twisted version of himself. As someone with more demon than Primeval.

I grab his hand and squeeze, taking no offense when he jumps from the action. He looks over at me and, in his eyes, I see a level of gratitude that clenches my lungs. “Being treated like a criminal isn’t exactly my idea of a warm welcome, but I can’t say I’m shocked,” he says bitterly.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Weldon. You, of all people, didn’t deserve it.”

He snorts a laugh. “None of us did, Faye. Lab rat was never in the agreement we metaphorically signed with Mack. The shithead knew this was coming. Hell, I knew this was coming, and yet, we still came here. If anyone’s to blame, it’s our own selves.”

Dropping my gaze to the floor, I say, “For a minute there, I thought I might not ever be released.”

I feel him looking at me, taking in the force in the truth of my words. “Yeah, well, we traded one dilemma for another. Who knows what lies up her sleeves,” he says, looking in Clara’s direction. He exhales loudly, exasperated. “Matter of fact, is this going to take all day?” he asks, pushing his question toward Clara. She barely turns her head in his direction. “Because, really, I have quite a lot of things I need to do. You know, demons to assassinate and seals to break, or crush, or however it is we’re supposed to dispose of them.”

She turns all the way around now, her hand on her hip and her glare as sharp as ever.

He assumes the air of innocence. “What?” he asks mockingly. “You think I’m joking?”

All I can think about is how if she could get us out so easily, then she could put us right back in. And that can’t happen. “Weldon,” I say under my breath, trying to coax him to back off, but he doesn’t listen.

His body grows rigid. His tone more hostile, like he has a debt to settle. “Geez, Clara, you make it seem like I take little to nothing seriously.”

“Do you?” she retorts.

His smile disappears, and his golden eyes begin to churn. “I do, Clara Stella Ravensmoore. Sister to Claire Luna Ravensmoore… my affinity partner who was stolen away from me and taken to the very place where I was made into what I am. Tell me, how did she get down there?”

Clara’s face drains of color, and then her gaze grows dark. “You know as much as I do, Weldon James Jacobsen. My guess is that she went after you. Probably traded herself in just like I told her not to time and time again.”

My stomach is in knots. I can almost smell the sterile scent of my holding cell. “Weldon, please,” I say, but he doesn’t hear me.

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” Weldon says very seriously. “But I knew Claire better than that. She knew the deal I made to save my brother. I made her swear she wouldn’t go after me, because unlike you,” Weldon continues, his words snaking their way around Clara’s feet, “I cherished Claire. I loved her.”

“How dare you,” Clara breathes out, her hand flying up to her mouth.

But Weldon doesn’t stop there, and I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure how to fix this. I feel like I’m watching scars left behind by both of them being ripped back open, bleeding out onto the floor, and there isn’t anything I can do to stop it.

“Mack isn’t here to stop me this time. He can’t keep me quiet. So yes, I take it very seriously that you abandoned my brother, after watching the pain Claire and I went through,” Weldon says with much conviction. “You left him behind. Trampled on him as if he were nothing more than a fly to squash, and here you are, gloating in all your glory. I’m sure you wormed your way right into the Priesthood with a bunch of false—”

“Enough!” she snaps. The sound slices through the air.

Weldon slowly leans back in his chair, his eyes set on Clara like she’s some kind of wild animal he has pinned in a corner, and he’s waiting for the right moment to deliver his final, fatal blow.

She smoothes back her hair and slips a fake smile on her face before looking my way. But I see right through it. I see the tension, the regret, and the pain. She’s rattled, and Weldon knows it, revels in it even. “I-I’m doing everything in my power to see that you are all taken care of.” She drags in another breath as if she’s hanging on by a thread.

He opens his mouth, sure to push out another sarcastic, assholish remark, but then the door that leads to the holding cells across from us opens, and with it, takes all the relativity of time.

Bright, striking green eyes find and embrace mine from across the room, and I fall into them willingly, effortlessly. I feel like I’m dangling on the edge of a dream, hoping that my legs don’t give out. Praying this is real.

I blink, and in two long strides, Jaxen’s standing right in front of me. Strong, brave, and alive. His lips twitch, and then slowly, they lift into a secret smile meant only for me, enhancing dimples I thought I might not ever see again. Blood rushes to my cheeks, recharging me with life. Reaching for him, I cup the side of his face, running my fingers along the stubble. I stop over the softness of his lips. He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut, breaking open the cage suppressing my emotions.

Time has left us for a moment, giving us a gift of solitude. Of stolen moments returned.

His eyes flutter open and his hands are on my waist, holding me so close. “Are you okay?” he finally asks, taking in every inch of me. Checking for any signs that point to injury. But the damage isn’t on the outside, and for that, I’m grateful.

I nod because I feel Clara watching us, studying us, and this is the one part of my life that I don’t want examined. This part of my life must be kept sacred. I take Jaxen’s hand in mine, pulling him down to the chair next to mine. Weldon leans forward enough to tip his head in Jaxen’s direction.

Jaxen nods hello back, and then stares straight ahead in Clara’s direction. “She’s the one who got us out?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say, rubbing my thumb over the top of his hand.

“Don’t let her fool you,” Weldon says as he leans back in his chair and crosses his legs. “There’s a catch to be had. She just hasn’t thrown the line out yet.”

I glare over at Weldon, wishing he would just drop it already. Even though her back is turned, I know she’s listening in. She’s nosy like that. All I want is to make it outside of this building. To put as much distance between me and my holding cell as possible. To smell fresh air again.

And I hope he can see that through the consistent glare I’m giving him.

But he just looks at me funny and throws his hands up, as if to ask me, “What?”

Though we are partners, we are still nowhere near close enough to be able to read each other’s expressions clear enough to tell what each other is thinking. He looks away from me as the door opens across from us. Gavin walks out. Jaxen stands at once, and then they embrace, patting each other on the back.

“For a minute there, I thought they were going to keep us locked up. Did they threaten you with the Disciplinary Ward?” Gavin asks, his hand resting on Jaxen’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Jaxen says bitterly.

Anger flits across Gavin’s face. “I don’t understand it. We did what they asked, so why lock us up?” He looks past Jaxen at me and Weldon, nods hello, then looks back at Jaxen. “And who the hell got us out?”

Clara clears her throat.

Gavin spins around. “You?” he asks, pointing at her in disbelief.

She nods once, her hands folded in front of her.

Gavin falls into his chair next to Jaxen. “Damn, man. It’s only been four days. Shit couldn’t have changed that drastically.”

Weldon leans forward to throw in his two cents again. “Haven’t you read the memo? Clara is an all-mighty High Priestess now. Hell has indeed frozen over.” He smiles, content with himself, and then adds, “Oh, and pigs can fly too.”

“And in this new, alternate reality, you’re actually funny,” Jezi adds as she makes her way over to us. She stops in front of Jaxen and me, and then looks to Weldon. “Not.”