Evernight (The Night Watchmen Series Book 2)

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  EVERLOST (NIGHT WATCHMEN, #3)

  The third book in the Night Watchmen Series

  JEZI’S WORDS STILL ECHO my brain. “Evangeline Gramm.”

  Who knew a name could have the force equivalent to a punch? Because I felt the way it slammed into Jaxen. I felt it through our affinity link, the same way Jezi did. The way his mind, his heart, and his whole entire being seized up into a solid mass that clenched the air from his lungs. I felt the fire in his brain—the hell he could never escape from—roaring up, as if his mother’s name was a gallon of gasoline poured onto the smoldering embers of every memory he was only just beginning to let go.

  They’re alive and awake now. Swaying and rising higher and higher in the oxygen surrounded by the two words Jezi breathed out.

  And I want to cry for him. For the blender his heart has been dumped into. For the way he has to clutch on to the back of the chair for support. For the way every time he sees the exit sign, it moves back another mile, making his trek to sanctuary never-ending.

  It takes us all a second to catch our breath, to separate our feelings from one another and remember that even though we’re all linked, we’re still individuals. Jaxen’s form blurs in front of me as tears invade my eyes.

  “No,” Jaxen says, shaking his head. But his tone is more disbelief than denial. More like a silent plea to whatever God is listening, begging him or her to stop this cruel joke before it gets out of hand.

  But Jezi’s eyes are filled with such surety that it rattles me all the way to my feet.

  “I-I thought she was gone,” I say. Silly, stupid, meaningless words.

  “She was. And now she’s back,” Weldon says, his eyes on the floor.

  Jaxen spins around, still clutching the back of the chair. My mind locks up. “What do you mean?” he asks. His eyes move frantically across Weldon’s face, trying to read the truth faster than his mind can comprehend.

  Weldon puts the cap back on the jug filled with blood, and sets it on the shelf in the fridge. Moments drag past us as if there they’re tethered by the chains of the truth hiding behind Weldon’s lips. He’s taking his time, though this time, it isn’t for his entertainment. There’s hurt in his eyes, the kind of pain only a friend could feel for someone they deeply care about. There’s tension in his slouched shoulders. There’s a frown on his thin lips, and it tightens the knot in my stomach.

  “Because,” he says, clenching his eyes shut. His face twists with regret. “I-I saw her before I left this morning,” Weldon admits, his eyes shifting between the floor and Jaxen. He runs his hand up the back of his neck, pushing at his hair. “I swear, man, I planned to tell you the minute I knew I could get you alone. I just wanted to give you a chance to wake up first before you had to process such a colossal bomb.”

  It takes a second for Jaxen to respond. He’s blinking and blinking, with ghosts dancing behind his gaze that I wish I had the power to exorcise. I reach for his curled-up fist, barely able to breathe, and it’s only then that he really looks at me. That he leaves whatever horrible nightmare resides inside his head.

  “Jax?” Weldon says, pulling a chair out to sit at the table.

  He turns his attention back to Weldon. “Where is she?” he asks, his voice trembling and his fists shaking against the table.

  I feel his wounds being ripped open as his walls come crashing down around him. I feel the tightness in his chest… the panic in his mind. I see him as a little boy, watching a shadow of a woman walking away from him, and it makes my eyes burn as I reach for him.

  Weldon eyes widen a little. He already knows.

  Jaxen is a dormant volcano who’s only just awoken.

  “Let’s go talk about it first,” Weldon says smoothly, though even his best control is quivering. “Gavin said—”

  I feel the explosion before it happens. Before Jaxen’s chair flies against the wall and shatters into uneven splinters of wood. Before he slams his fist against the kitchen table, nearly splitting it clean in two, sending food flying through the air.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what Gavin said!” Jaxen shouts, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Volation slides down the hard planes of his arms, the sparking energy licking his skin with fierce determination. He turns and plows through the kitchen door, knocking it off the hinges.

  Jezi, Weldon, and I exchange wide-eyed glances.

  “Gavin!” Jaxen shouts through the house, his words on fire with anger. “Where the hell are you?”

  I rush to follow him as he storms down the hall. His tone alone has my blood stirring with fear. He grabs onto the banister and swings himself around onto the stairs, taking them two at a time. Stomping so hard I fear he’ll stomp right through the wood.

  “Jaxen! Wait!” I shout after him, but he can’t hear me through the rage. My heart thunders against my ribs as adrenaline spreads through my veins. I grab the banister to follow him when Jezi grabs my arm, halting me in place.

  “Don’t,” she says softly, firmly, locking her hazel gaze on mine.

  I look past her, up to Jaxen, who’s banging his fist against Gavin’s door. “Get your ass out here!” he’s shouting, over and over, his voice rising higher and higher.

  I yank my arm from Jezi, half expecting her to say something to stop me, anything to explain why she wanted to stop me in the first place, but she doesn’t say a word. She just gives me this look that says, “You asked for it.”

  I don’t let it stop me.

  I rush up the stairs after him, shutting my emotions off to keep a level head. “Jaxen,” I say evenly, grabbing his fist before it can bang against the door again. Volation wraps around both our hands as I pull from the energy around me, using it to strengthen my grip. When his furrowed green eyes finally meet mine, I say, “Take a deep breath before you do something you’ll regret later.”

  He spins on me so fast my breath catches. “A deep breath?” he asks as he breaks out into maniacal laughter, pinning me against the wall. “You want me to take a deep breath? After finding out that my so-called,” he turns to look at the door, “brother was supposedly talking to the one woman who destroyed everything? And I wasn’t even invited!”

  He tries to turn away from me, but I use my volation-fueled strength to hold him in place. His eyes jerk to mine. “Don’t,” he warns before yanking his hand clean from my grip.

  A small wave of anger passes over me.

  “What if it was a misunderstanding?” I ask, determined to make him listen to reason. Determined to keep him from exploding past the point of return.

  Every muscle in his body tenses. “The only misunderstanding is me trusting my brother. That’s it,” he says with ice in his words.

  The door swings open, and Gavin leans himself lazily against the frame with a glass of whiskey clutched in his hand. “You rang?” he asks with a cocky grin. The strong scent of alcohol reeks from his breath.

  “I want the truth,” Jaxen says, his chest rising and falling in a chaotic rhythm.

  Gavin pulls in a long, uncomfortable breath as too many emotions pass over his face. He takes a sip of his drink, and then offers the glass to Jaxen.

  Jaxen shoves it away hard enough to make the liquid slosh over the sides.

  Gavin doesn’t say a word. Not with his mouth. But in his gaze, he’s telling Jaxen more than he wants to hear. He puts the glass back in Jaxen’s face, waiting for him to take it.

  Jaxen does, and my stomach rolls for him.

  When the glass is empty, Gavin clears his throat. Steels his spine. “She left right before you came downstairs. Said she wanted to feel things out. She is… was… staying here with her umm…”

  Jaxen’s face turns ghostly white. His fist curls at his side. I think his lip is trembling, but I’m trying so hard not to stare at him. Not to pry in on his emotions.

  “Look,” Gavin says, plunging a hand through his hair, “I know what happened is fucked up… but if you could just give her
a chance. Hear her out. Maybe you’d understand.”

  “Understand?” Jaxen mutters, so quiet I can barely hear him.

  Gavin squeezes his eyes shut. He knows. He already knows how this is going to go, just like the rest of us. “Yes, brother,” Gavin eases, “she had legit reasons, and as much as I’m with you on despising the fact that she left us, I can’t not listen. She’s our mom, Jax.”

  “Our mom?” Jaxen repeats, flinching. “Did you really just say that?”

  Gavin’s face falls flat. His shoulders tighten. “Yes,” he says evenly, “our mom. Stop being such an emo-crying baby, and listen to me for one goddamn minu—”

  Jaxen cuts him off with his fist.

  The glass flies into the air and shatters into millions of glistening pieces by the time Gavin lands on his butt. Jaxen’s already on top of him, landing two more punches before Cassie and I even realize what’s happening.

  Weldon appears behind me and I move aside, thinking he’s going to put a stop to it, but he just stands over the top of them, looking like a referee with his hands on his hips and a concentrated grin on his face.

  “Knock it off!” Cassie shouts, trying to find where she can slip an arm in between the punches being thrown, but Jaxen’s punch lands next, giving him the advantage as Gavin stumbles back. He pins Gavin down by the neck, his hand reared back and full of lightning, ready to strike.

  “Jaxen, stop!” I cry out. He looks up, his sparking fist held in mid-air.

  Gavin uses the distraction to throw a painful-looking right hook. Blood flies from Jaxen’s mouth along with a groan. He turns back to Gavin, pounding spark-filled punches wherever they land.

  I try to make a move for them, but Weldon holds his arm out, halting me in place. “Let them hash it out,” he says, his golden eyes swirling with the kind of knowledge I’m sure I’ll never understand. The kind that only those with the XY chromosomes understand.

  Jezi shoves her way between us, “Boys!” she shouts, blasting them with a gust of wind.

  It doesn’t stop them.

  “You never listen! You’re such an arrogant asshole!” Gavin shouts as he rolls Jaxen over and grabs him by the collar. He lifts Jaxen up, ready to throw another punch, but Jezi throws a spell at him, throwing him back toward the bookshelf. Cassie turns for him, hands out and ready to use magic.

  I feel like I’m watching a nightmare. My limbs are jerky and unsure. My mind is locked up with indecision. Uncomfortable heat rides up the back of my spine.

  Gavin picks himself up, growling, and charges for Jaxen and Jezi, but Jezi’s quicker. Her hand flicks up as words pass over her lips, and then an invisible wall of magic appears, separating them from Gavin.

  “Screw you!” Jaxen shouts at Gavin, trying to pry his way through Jezi’s spell. Veins bulge in his neck and along his arms as he slams his fists against the invisible wall. She must be pulling from his strength because he’s having a hard time getting through it. “You’re a traitor and… and you’re the asshole!”

  “Oh that’s rich, Jax. I tell you she had real reasons and you fly off the handle. Real mature. Believe what you want, you big baby.” He turns from Cassie, stopping just for a moment to look at me. Anger flares like fire in his eyes. He wants to say something, I see it burning in his gaze, but he shoves past me, stomping down the stairs.

  “That was fun,” Weldon says, smiling with a perked brow at me. He turns his gaze on Jaxen. “I told you we should have talked first. If you ask me, you were just looking for a fight. Too much testosterone in this house.”

  “Shove it,” Jaxen says as he sits on the floor, rubbing his jaw.

  “Suit yourself,” Weldon says with an eye roll as he follows Gavin out of the room.

  Cassie sighs loudly. “Really, Jaxen?”

  He doesn’t look at her. He just stares straight ahead, past the house and all of us, his jaw flexing.

  Cassie looks up at Jezi and me. “Look, we need to strengthen the wards on this house. The magic we’ve used so far has seeped past it. It’s going to give us away.”

  “Okay,” Jezi says, her eyes moving back to Jaxen every other second. “I’ll get the materials ready.”

  “And we also need to have a family meeting,” Cassie says before Jezi can leave the room. “We need to discuss what our next step is, because we can’t just sit idle. It’s only a matter of time until Clara finds us.”

  “She won’t find this place,” Jaxen says with surety.

  “Every place is findable, Jaxen. All it takes is a clever Witch,” Cassie says. She places her hands on her hips. “Now, I’m going to take care of Gavin and let them know about the meeting.” She drops down to a crouch in front of Jaxen, waiting until he looks over at her. “Look, I know this was a bit of a shock for you. It was for Gavin too. Just… just don’t take it out on your brother. He’s also hurting. I expect you to be on your best behavior. Got it?”

  His nod is barely noticeable.

  She stands, flicks a gaze in my direction, throws her hair over her shoulder, and walks out of the room. Silence makes its appearance. Jezi looks between us and, for once, I think she’s out of words. Jaxen exhales forcefully, and then leans back. His eyes are everywhere but on me.

  Jezi kneels down by him, holding her hand out to heal him, but he waves her away. He wants to wear his mistake—his pain. Hiding from it would be cowardly. Pretending like it never happened would be an unrealistic lie.

  And that makes me love him even more.

  Jezi stands back up and moves next to me, loosely wrapping her arm across her chest, clutching her other elbow. When he finally looks at me, torment has settled in his brows. His mouth opens and then closes, words clamming up behind his lips. He wants to tell us why. Maybe not for us, but for himself. He wants to explain why he overreacted… why he took it out on Gavin… why hearing his mother’s name makes him such a wreck, but there isn’t a perfect explanation.

  Rationality is simply eleven letters crammed together when it comes to matters of the heart.

  He shrugs, and his shoulders roll forward a bit. “I don’t-I don’t know why,” he exhales out, plunging a hand through his hair.

  I take his hand in mine, rubbing my other hand across his rough cheek, which is already swelling. “Explaining it is like trying to explain how the earth was created. It just happened. Things happen and, sometimes, the reasons behind them are beyond our explanation. Sometimes, it’s just a collision that was bound to happen. And that’s okay.”

  He squeezes my hand and smiles, though it looks painful, forced even. “He’s right. I am an asshole.”

  “Maybe,” Jezi says, “but everyone understands, Jaxen. Just tell him you’re sorry. You know he’ll forgive you.”

  “He always does,” Jaxen says, the guilt in his voice weighing on my heart.

  “Come on,” I say, tugging on his hand. “Let’s get your nose cleaned up, and then we can head down there. The sooner you tell him, the sooner you’ll feel better.”

  “Better doesn’t have a place inside the darkness eating me up inside.”

  “Don’t be melodramatic,” Jezi says as she turns for the door. “You had a fight. Get over it.”

  IRUN A WASHCLOTH UNDER warm water as he rests his back against the countertop. I could clean him with a swish of my hand if I wanted to, but I know that’s not what he wants. He wants to feel this moment just as much as I did when I fought Chett back at the Academy. There’s something about acknowledging your wounds that makes the situation more real, because it’s so easy for the mind to discard the moments we don’t like to remember.

  Because we, as humans, can so easily pretend that we don’t make mistakes, and that’s the most unfortunate plague of our generation.

  “Isn’t this funny?” I say as I wring out the cloth.

  He looks at me, waiting for me to explain.

  “I clearly remember the night you helped me lick my wounds, because of my own doing, and now the situation is reversed.”

  “What you di
d was at least justifiable,” he says quietly. “Chett shouldn’t have treated Katie that way, and I’m sure a lot of novices agreed. They just didn’t have the guts to stand up the way you did.”

  “Maybe… but it went against what I was told to do. I broke the rules. I let my emotions get the best of me and took a punch in the face for it.”

  The corner of his mouth lifts just a smidgen. “Yeah, you did.”

  I bring the cloth to his mouth, carefully. The almost nonexistent smile begins to fade. Shadows creep into his eyes.

  “I don’t know if I want to know why,” he says distantly as I dab at the dried blood under his nose.

  “About your mom?”

  He nods.

  “It might make you feel better if you understand her reasoning,” I say, running the cloth back under the water. I wring it out again, and then dab at the cut above his eye.

  His gaze darkens. “I don’t want to feel better. Not about what she did, because that would mean the past twelve years of my life that I spent in utter torment and complete hatred was all for nothing. All because she didn’t explain herself before she ran from us and left us to pick up the pieces, moving from house to house until Mack took us in.” He grabs my hand, stopping me, and locks eyes with me.

  He looks like a twelve year-old boy again, lost and confused. Scared and alone. And I want to hold him tight and chase his demons away.

  “To think there was a reasonable explanation for it, and she didn’t have the gall to tell us, well… I don’t think I could forgive her for that.”

  I set the cloth down and pull him into a hug. A warm, understanding hug. It only takes him a second until he settles into it and wraps his arms around the small of my waist, squeezing me tightly, almost desperately.

  The pain a parent can leave behind is an irreversible kind. A pain we can learn to manage, but never truly get rid of. It’s a living, breathing monster that seeps into a child’s open, innocent heart, and there it lives, thriving off every happy moment. Chipping away at every chance we have at letting the pain go so we can really live. Because you never get over losing a parent, no matter the reasons why.