Evernight (The Night Watchmen Series Book 2) (6 page)

I find his face across the room and forget how to breathe. There’s so much pain swirling around his deep green eyes, so much longing that it almost hurts. I want to shut my eyes and pretend that time never escaped us, that no one ever came between us, but I can’t. I’m afraid that if I do, he’ll disappear. That this moment will become another fantasy I created to pass the time in my holding cell.

“Come here,” he says, breaking the dream.

I take cautious steps, stepping out of my mind and back into his reality. Back into his heavenly arms. My hands find his shoulders and, slowly, I unzip the front of his jumpsuit. His hands stay rigid at his side, arms open and waiting for me to show him where this will go. To allow me to explore and take what I want from him.

I slide my hands against his chest, and step closer, taking in his electric scent. I’m trying to pace myself, trying to catch my breath as my heart slams against my chest. I crave his skin, his touch. My hands drift up to his shoulders, and then brazenly push the fabric off his arms. I don’t want material separating us.

His muscles clench as he whispers so many secrets in his gaze. Secrets that light my blood on fire. His body quivers under my trailing touch. Every part of me trembles with desire. Flutters with anticipation.

And I can’t catch a steady breath.

He runs the back of his hand along my cheek, taking his time to enjoy the simple touch. I close my eyes, dragging my hands down the hard, sloped planes of his chest. Enjoying the rippling shudders such a small caress causes him. His fingers rake through my hair until his hand comes to rest along the back of my neck. He pulls me closer to him, demolishing the distance between us.

“Faye,” he says softly. There’s a frenzied edge to his voice that slides over my skin. He tilts my head back, forcing my eyes on his. Desire and love lap around his pupils, brightening the color of his eyes. “I dreamed of you. Every single night,” he admits, his voice breathy and strained. “I asked to see you, every single day, but I wasn’t granted permission. I didn’t know what to do, and it drove me crazy.” His head drops, and his eyes squeeze shut. “I didn’t know what they were doing to you. What you were going through. And it killed me, Faye.” Green eyes pooled in sadness find mine. “Every day, it killed me.”

I reach up and caress the side of his face. Standing on my tiptoes, I kiss his cheek and then, slowly, kiss my way to his quivering lips. His hands find my waist, gripping tightly, pulling me into him as he deepens the kiss. My blood is electric, sending sparks to every part of me. He pulls his lips from mine, and it takes me a moment to open my eyes, to let go of the softness of his touch.

“I could… I could kill them for taking you away from me. For making me feel like I’d lost you all over again. I-I need you… so bad it hurts.”

I’m weightless, suspended only by my beating heart.

“I’m here,” I say bravely, gliding my hands down his chest, all the way to the hem of his suit. His eyes squeeze shut as he bites his lip. The pain and yearning is written across his face, and I think I’m going to break in half. Melt away, into a puddle at his feet. “I don’t want to waste another minute guessing. I don’t want to waste another minute period.”

I’m consumed by his fever. But then a knock at the door slices through the air, jolting me on the spot. He groans, and the sound itself drives me wild.

“Yo,” Gavin shouts from the other side of the door. “You ran off like a maniac. This will just take a sec.”

Jaxen inhales and runs a hand through his hair, disheveling it into a perfect mess. He kisses my cheek, walks over to the door, and then presses the button that slides it open.

“You guys want to meet for dinner later?” Gavin asks before the door finishes opening. He takes one look at the both of us, and then smiles a large, knowing smile. “Well, you two sure didn’t waste any time. No wonder you jetted off so fast. Horny Devils.”

“Shove it,” Jaxen says, and then presses the button again, shutting the door in Gavin’s face.

“I’m taking that as a yes!” Gavin shouts out on the other side of the door. “Eight o’clock. One hour, little bro.” His voice trails back down the hall as Jaxen turns around and looks at me.

He offers a small smile. “Hey,” he says with an awkward chuckle.

I smile back at him. Twist my feet in. “Hi.”

“It seems even in a new city we can’t avoid interruptions.” He walks back over to me.

“Yeah,” I say, blowing out a large breath.

He clears his throat. Runs his hands down his thighs. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

“A sign?” I start to protest, but he shushes me with a long, deep, kiss. His velvet tongue dances with mine, and his hand finds the small of my back, supporting me as my knees convert to jelly. He kisses me with a certain madness, a longing delivered only by the distance forced between us.

Kissing him fills the hollowed ache inside of me. It eases the pain of everything I can’t control. The things I can’t fix. Of missing my parents, and Katie, and all the conversations we’ll never have.

I feel every emotion storming through him, and share the pain of having been stripped of control.

“I can’t get enough,” he says, trying to catch a breath. Holding me like he’ll never let go again. “I promise you,” he says as he breaks away from the kiss, his chest rising and falling rapidly, “this will happen. It’s going to happen. Soon. This—it’s just not the right time.” There’s desperation in his voice. He’s clinging to the edges of sanity. Of strength.

I run my fingers through his hair and plant a kiss on his lips, ignoring the whirlwind spiraling within me. Ignoring the ache that won’t seem to leave me. “When is the right time?” I ask evenly, trying to control my breathing.

The heat between us is intoxicating.

He rests his forehead against mine. Licks his lips and drags in a breath. It takes him a moment to speak, to pull himself back, and I envy that he even can. I envy his strength and how easy it is for him to slip in and out of desire. “When I can take you out like a normal person, learn all the secrets you’ve kept buried within you,” he says, his eyes sparkling with love. “And after we figure out what the hell is going on here.”

His bucket of ice-cold words splash over me.

I know it’s my turn to speak, but I want to make sure what I say is on point, and I can’t do that when I still feel his hands on my skin and his lips on my body. I can’t quell the storm he’s unleashed, breaking open every part of longing that I spent hour after hour shutting off. There’s no way to pretend that I don’t feel his heart beating wildly against his ribcage, wanting to be set free.

“That could take forever,” I admit, hating how this seems so easy for him.

Maybe he senses this because he exhales like he agrees with me. Like he knows it could take forever, and there’s no way either of us could make it that long. “I won’t be able to hold back forever, Faye. You-you’re so damn perfect. So damn tempting. I’m just… you deserve the best. You should be taken out and properly wooed. You should have the perfect night to give yourself to me, and I intend to make that happen. Very soon.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. My insides don’t care about a proper night, but my heart is flattered. My mind understands. I take his hand and squeeze, trying to be glad that I fell for a perfect gentleman. Striving not to be ashamed of my blatant want for this man who drives every inch of me deliciously insane.

“You never cease to surprise me,” I say, the side of my mouth lifting up.

He chuckles. “I surprise myself,” he admits, “because it’s sure as hell taking every last bit of my self-control to keep from exploring every inch of you right now.” He ruffles a hand in the back of his hair. Tries to keep his eyes on anything but me.

My heart swells. “I uh-maybe we should talk about something else then,” I say, my voice strained and shaky.

“Yeah,” he agrees, taking a seat on my bed. He moves back against the wall, takes in a breath, and then shifts subjects. “I can’t believe Clara got us out.”

“I know, right? I never thought for a second it would be her face I saw when we were released. She’s just always been so… so mean and hateful.” Thoughts of being back at the Academy race through my mind. Clara’s open distaste of me. Mack’s mistrust of her. Her thirst for power. It just doesn’t make sense that she would want to help us… at least not from the kindness of her shriveled-up heart.

“Clara’s ruthless,” he says, the bitterness in his tone leaving a sour taste in my mouth.

I look to him, wishing for once the answer would come easy for me.

“But maybe,” he says, searching my eyes, “maybe we should go along with it for the time being. See what she wants.” He grabs my hand. “I mean, really, what choice do we have? We’re running out of allies. And choices. Mack isn’t here, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get in touch with him. She’s basically the only person we have on our side in this city—the only one who’s connected to home.”

“I don’t know about her being on our side, but yeah, I think you’re right. We should at least play along for the time being. At least until the Priesthood reveals what they want next from us,” I say.

He leans his head back and closes his eyes. Drags in a breath. “As much as I hate to admit this. Hell, as much as I hate to go along with this, all we can really do is let go, jump in feet first, and hope for the best,” he says on an exhale. “We just have to keep a keen eye out, and we need to be prepared for whatever they throw at us because, really, we’re all we’ve got, and we have to make that work.”

The sad part is he’s exactly right.

W
E AREN’T GRANTED CIVILIAN CLOTHING.

That’s what the lady on the small screen in my room said when she went over the list of rules set for us. As Elites in training, we’re required to wear our uniform when out in public, be it in Ethryeal City or out in the real world. We’re to be freshly pressed. Properly pinned. Relevantly divided from all the rest. We’re to represent the face of this Coven as the best of the best.

I’m still trying to figure out why they thought to include me in that mix.

I haven’t moved from my spot on the bed since Jaxen left to get situated in his room. I’ve been staring up at my uniform from across the room, unsure of how I feel. Proud? Scared? Used? Or maybe a little of each. My heart is like a closet filled with a multitude of emotions, and I’m standing in the middle, sorting through every one, trying to find the right outfit for the moment.

But none seems to fit.

Or maybe… maybe I don’t want to feel, because to acknowledge what’s really bothering me would be my breaking point, and I don’t have time to break. The Priesthood didn’t set enough seconds aside for me to worry over my missing parents, or the fact I haven’t spoken to Katie in ages. There aren’t enough minutes in the day to worry about what’s happening to all the Watchmen by the hands of Bael, all because of me.

All because I got away.

So I choose not to feel anything as I sift through the uniforms. Two of everything hangs from the clothing rack, and I wonder who brings them in and takes them away when they’ve been used. I’m left feeling as if I’ll never know privacy again.

There’s a pair of shoes constructed for running and endurance underneath with a box next to them. Leaning forward, I grab the box. Aside from the bathroom essentials, there’s a small drawstring bag tucked inside. The object inside it falls into my hand with a soft thud.