When he’s gone, we all look at each other. “He’s right, you know,” Gavin says. “We shouldn’t let our guard down with Clara. She’s up to something for sure. Her first official act after the day of her induction was to pull us misfits out of the pen?” He snorts and leans back in his chair. “Since when does she care what happens to us? It’s a lie.”
Jaxen turns himself enough to open up to the conversation, shifting so his leg is touching mine. His hand is face up and open, and my fingers itch to link with his.
“All I know is that Mack didn’t trust her, so neither do I,” Jezi says as she plays with a strand of her hair. “She’s always exuded the backstabbing-bitch syndrome.”
Cassie lets out a long sigh. “I just can’t believe she really did it.”
“Did what?” I ask.
“Deserted Mack for this position,” she says, shaking her head. “She’s only looking out for one person—herself. And this new position, it gives her a reach most could only dream of. Right into the politics of our Coven. The Goddess knows what she plans on doing with that.”
“We might not know what her plan is, but I think I can make an accurate guess as to why she was the one who released us,” Gavin adds in. We all look over at him. “She has enough dirt on us to hold us by the necks. I’m sure she’s going to use that to her advantage just to get us to play ball. It’s only a matter of time until her plan comes to light.”
Jaxen stiffens, and I feel his tension like static in the air before a storm. “Gavin,” he says quietly. Ghosts haunt his tone, and it makes me look over at him.
Now I’m paying full attention.
I see the alarm in his gaze. The blood drained from his face. The way his lips tighten when he looks at Gavin, quieting him from saying anything more.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, not liking the turn this conversation is taking. “What dirt?”
Jaxen turns to me at once. “Just an old incident. It’s nothing,” he says a little too quickly. There’s a heaviness in his eyes, like he’s weighed down by secrets.
“Then why do I feel like I’m missing something?” I look over at Gavin. He looks away. So does Jezi and Cassie. “Seriously? Jaxen?”
He grabs my hand. “Clara was just a pushy Elder. Things happened, Mack took care of it, and now Gavin thinks she might bring it back up. That’s all Gavin meant. Right?” He looks over at Gavin and exchanges a pressing look.
Gavin blows out a breath, shaking his head a little. Scratches behind his ear. “Yeah. Forget I said anything, kid,” he says to me. “I’m sure you’ll see soon enough. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He stands up and offers a hand to Cassie, who takes it after giving me a sorrowful smile.
“See you in the morning, Faye,” she says, and then turns to Jezi. “You coming? I want to stop by the Wiccan shop for some supplies.”
“Sure,” Jezi says, standing up. “Maybe we can conjure up a cigarette.” She purposefully avoids Jaxen and me, and it makes me extremely uncomfortable. Like I’m on the outside looking in. Like I was never really a part of this group—a part of Jaxen—to begin with.
As I watch them walking away, whispering to each other, I’m tempted to tune in. I have the ability to. If I want to know what Gavin really meant, then I should.
But I can’t bring myself to do it.
“You’re hiding something from me. I can feel it. I thought we weren’t going to have any secrets between us.” I say with my back slightly to him. We’re alone again, but I don’t feel like we’re alone at all. There’s a secret big enough to be considered its own entity between us, and it’s making me uncomfortable, weary.
Jaxen sighs. Takes my hand in his. Tugs just enough to get me to look at him. “Look, I need you to trust me, okay? The less you know, the better. It’s for your own safety.” He has no intention of explaining. I see the roots spreading through the deep green of his eyes, planting his decision to keep me out in solid ground.
Heat burns behind my cheeks. “Just tell me what it is.”
I think I’m on the cusp of breaking clean in two. Everything is happening around me so fast… too fast to process. Something’s happening against my will, and there’s nothing I can do but sit back and watch it unravel, while praying I can weather the storm.
He chews his lip. Sighs again. “No,” he says before looking down.
There it is. The moment he can’t ever come back from, and I swear it takes a piece of my heart with it.
“But no matter what, I wouldn’t let your guard down with Clara. Okay?” he says.
I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak. I don’t trust that I won’t barrage him with a list of questions until he gives in and tells me whatever it is he’s hiding. I want to yell at him for keeping me out. For thinking that he has a right to hide something from me, but I don’t. I don’t because he asked me to trust him, and a small part of me wants to. Needs to.
He leans in and kisses me softly, as if he might not ever be able to kiss me again. “Come on,” he says, offering a hand. “Let’s get back. We have to get up early.”
“Yeah,” I finally say, but the word sounds so far away from me. So hollow, empty, and meaningless.
Now more than ever, I wish life had a button to press that could fix things.
I DIDN’T SLEEP VERY WELL.
The premonition replayed repeatedly in my dreams, only this time, Clara’s wicked grin was as clear as glass. It was the kind of smirk that speaks of death, blood, and conquest. The kind that sticks to your soul like tar on a hot, humid day.
I pray it’s because of what Weldon and the others said the night before. That it’s just nervous jitters that spread out from the information they planted in the back of my head and took over my dreams.
But the problem is—I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not.
By the time the woman on the screen appears, telling me it’s time to wake up, my eyes are already open, pinned on a distant spot on the ceiling. My thoughts are like broken records playing over and over and over until I can’t take it. Until I want to cover my ears and scream to make the sound go away.
What is Jaxen hiding? What does my premonition mean? What is Jaxen hiding? What does the premonition mean?
There’s no end. No answer to be found. Not in the darkness of my room. Not under the comfort of my blanket. Monsters seem to have found me even in my safe haven.
I roll out of bed with a groan, making quick work of showering and getting dressed. When I leave my room, I find Jaxen waiting for me by the elevator. His hands are tucked in the pockets of his jacket, his hair disheveled. He’s leaning one shoulder against the wall, his eyes distant in thought.
But my heart doesn’t flip the way it usually does when I see him.
He doesn’t look up until I’m right in front of him, and I’m not sure if it’s because I was that quiet, or if it’s because he was so lost in thought.
“Hey, you,” he says when he sees me. “You’re getting good at that quiet walk.” The grin he wears could reach the moon. Maybe even dance with the stars, but there’s something in his eyes, a small reflection of sadness, that can’t be hidden.
Not from me. Not when I know sadness so well.
“I learned from the best,” I say, trying to make my smile authentic, believable.
He stares at me for a moment. Opens and closes his mouth like he’s on the verge of saying something. “Faye—” He looks away. Curses under his breath.
“What is it?” I ask, trying not to sound too pushy.
He looks back at me, and the fear and pain in his eyes is enough to choke the air from my lungs. Enough to freeze me in place. “I just… I want to…” He plunges his hand through his hair, and I don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What there is to tell me that could be this difficult to spit out.
A million possibilities pass through my head, all of them pointing to something awful. Something that I’m not so sure I could survive. My imagination has turned against me, and I don’t know ho
w to shut it off. It has corrupted my ideas, turning them into nightmares that all involve this ungodly secret that could rip us apart before we even really begin.
“Jaxen?” I whisper, hating the fearful quiver in my voice. Doesn’t he know his truth has the power to eradicate the hell my mind has created? Doesn’t he know that no matter how heavy the truth is, it’s still a thousand times lighter than any lie?
When he looks at me again, I swear I see tears in his eyes, but then someone groans behind me. Jaxen’s gaze shifts past me and, all at once, his face is composed. His posture straighter. His emotions neatly tucked away behind his four walls.
Gavin comes slothing down the hallway, looking sleepy and unready, with Cassie only a few steps behind him.
“Five am. She’s out of her friggin’ mind,” Cassie says, rubbing her eyes and yawning.
“I feel like we’re back in school,” Gavin mutters, wrapping one hand around her waist and using the other to rub the sleep from his eyes. His hair is matted to the left, and his crystal blue eyes are half-open.
“We are back in school,” Jaxen says pointedly, dragging a hand down his face.
“Ready for your first day in hell?” Weldon asks, only half dressed. For some reason, he hasn’t zipped the top half of his suit, leaving his chest exposed. Of course, he’s looking at me when he asks this, as if I’m the only one out of all of us who will suffer.
This sort of irks me, and my annoyance rushes past my lips before I have the chance to stop it. “Hell has always been on my list of places to visit. If you’re not careful, I might stab you with my pitchfork on our way down.”
He grins like the devil himself. “There’s my spitfire partner. Just wanted to make sure she was armed and ready for what lies ahead of us.”
“What’s wrong, Weldon? Forget how to dress yourself?” Jezi asks as we all file into the elevator with one other Elite.
Weldon rubs his hands down his sculpted chest and tosses a gleaming smile in Jezi’s direction. “Actually, no, Jezibelle,” he drags out. “I figured you’d need some eye candy since today is guaranteed to be a bore.”
She turns her nose up at him. “Oh, hell no. I think I just regurgitated in my mouth a little,” she retorts with her hand over her heart and a frown on her lips.
Weldon’s eyes rise with a shadow of a smile on his lips as he slides his arms through the top half of his suit and zips it up. “Regurgitated? What’s wrong? Catch a glimpse of yourself?” he shoots back, looking overly satisfied with himself.
Her eyes cut to his. Lips pressed into a thin, pale line, she dares him to utter another word.
He holds his hands up, but there’s no surrender to be had in the action. “Hey, I can go all day, baby. Keep ’em coming.” He turns up the collar of his jacket, wearing a gloating smirk.
I cringe for Jezi, just waiting for the storm that’s sure to come. Jaxen, on the other hand, doesn’t seem the least bit surprised and, after taking a quick, surveying glance at everyone else crammed in the elevator, neither do they. Like Jezi and Weldon have always hated each other or something. Like they always pick at each other with words.
This makes me wonder—why?
Jezi looks over at Jaxen. Plants her hand on her hips. Taps her foot against the ground as if she’s waiting for him to say something. Anything. And I actually want him to. She’s his partner. Weldon’s being an ass for no reason. But Jaxen just shrugs and focuses his gaze on the wall, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Fine,” she mutters murderously. She steps up to Weldon, getting in face. “You know what, Weldon Jacobsen?” She says the name with distaste. “I couldn’t care less what you think of me because I’m sure it’s not half as bad as what I think of you.”
“All right, children,” Gavin says as the elevator doors slide open. “Let’s try to play nicely”
Jezi grunts. “Nice? He’s a demon, Gav. He’s incapable of nice.” She struts past us all and shoves her way through a few Elites before stepping out into the morning air.
“Not to be too anal retentive,” Weldon says, “but I just have to point out that I’m only half-demon.” He says this loud enough to make sure every eye in the building is focused on him. Every ear turned in his direction. “Half!” he says with a finger jutted up into the air.
“Don’t you think you’re going a little overboard?” I ask. “She’s only one person.”
He shrugs and looks down the hall, watching Jezi’s steps disappear amongst the other Elites. “I wouldn’t dish it if I didn’t think she could handle it.”
Jaxen makes small apologies for their behavior to the Elites congregating in the waiting area, and then spins on Weldon as soon as we make it out of the building, shoving him back. “Weldon, just lay off her. It’s early, and we’re all a little stressed. Okay?”
“Stressed?” Weldon says, stepping up to Jaxen. “Good. You should be. We’re about to face Glenda the Nice Bitch. Do you know how exhausting it is to act like I don’t know she’s faking niceness? Even that’s a mouthful.”
Jaxen exhales loudly. Looks to the sky for guidance.
I step in Weldon’s line of vision. “I get what you’re saying, but you don’t have to take that out on everyone. On Jezi especially,” I point out, hands on my hips. “We’re supposed to be in this together.”
“She has a point,” Cassie adds with a pursed look. “You have a way of taking things too far.”
Weldon throws his hands up in the air and looks at us like he can’t believe our words. “You’re acting like I said something awful to her. I did nothing wrong! It was simple jesting!” He rakes a hand through his hair, exhaling out his growing frustrations. “Can no one take a joke around here? Sheesh.”
Jaxen groans. “I can see this is getting nowhere fast,” he says. “So keep acting like a child. It looks good on you.” He takes my hand in his and pulls me forward, leaving Weldon behind us.
“What’s gotten into him?” I lean in and ask.
“He’s just worried,” Jaxen says, sounding tired. “He always gets like this when he’s worried about something.”
“About Clara betraying us?”
“Maybe. Probably,” he says with a shrug.
We turn the corner, and I have to beg my heart to stay steady. Flashbacks of the night I came to the city assault my mind, barraging me with unwanted memories. Being torn from Jaxen’s side. A bag thrown over my head. Thrashing in the dark, only to wake in a white jumpsuit behind silver bars meant to lock me away.
“Faye!”
It’s Jaxen’s voice. He’s staring at me, cupping my face in his hands.
“Faye, breathe.”
I lock my eyes on his and suck in a deep breath. Somehow, I manage to grab his hands and pull them off my face. I suddenly feel the curious stares of everyone around us. I’m not blending in well enough. I never do.
“I’m fine, really,” I say.
“Thank the Goddess,” Cassie shouts out desperately from in front of us.
I look away from Jaxen to find Clara standing outside the Training Facility with trays of steaming coffee in her hands. Her smile is tight. Her stance is even tighter. Quaintly poised. Effortlessly elegant.
Dressed in an all-white skirt suit with the flags dancing behind her, she could be the face of this Coven. The face on every poster that rallies up enough Watchmen to head into battle against the unknown in the Underground. Even her aura holds a sense of power—a bright orange color that flares like the sun.
And I don’t know if this scares me or sets me at ease.
“You brought us caffeine?” Cassie asks hopefully, stopping in front of Clara. Her fingers are twitching, hovering over the cups as if she’s trying to decide which one she wants, and then she pulls back hesitantly. “It’s not… it’s not poisonous, is it?”
Clara’s smile flattens. “No.”
“Oh, good.” Cassie smiles pleasantly and grabs two, handing one to Gavin. Her eyes roll back when she takes her first sip, and she lets ou
t a small, heavenly moan. “Boy, did I need this,” she says gratefully. We all step up and take ours from her, whispering our thanks.
But even with it not being poisonous, I still don’t want to drink it. Not when it’s from her.
“I had the brewer add a little Moonwart as a blessing to the Goddess herself, and a little chamomile to calm your nerves for the big day,” Clara says. “I thought bringing a peace offering for any wrongs you’ve felt from me in the past would be a nice way to start your day.” Shifting her stance, she straightens her back. “I know what it feels like to be in a new city, to not know what to expect, and I don’t want you all to feel afraid. I’m here for you.”
Weldon snorts. I didn’t even hear him approach.
Her head whips in his direction. “Do you have something you’d like to say?” she asks, her gaze slicing over him.
“Yeah,” he says, sticking his chest out. “I call bullshit.” He steps up to her, his posture stiff and his shoulders squared. “My power might not rest in reading auras and seeing the future, but I can smell a lie better than anyone here, and nothing irks me more than when someone lies straight through their teeth. Right to my face.”
“Well,” she says, bearing her teeth a little, “I guess it must be hard for you to live with yourself then, because all I’ve ever heard from you are lies.”
His fists clench and unclench at his sides. The cords in his neck protrude. Hate permeates the air between them and, for a moment, I’m scared of what he might do. Terrified he might morph right here and take it all out on her. But he doesn’t. He just steps around her and heads into the facility without saying another word to anyone.
Clara’s body shakes as she watches him pass by her. When she looks back at us, it’s as if she forgot we were there. Like she just woke from a nightmare she can’t escape from. She inhales deeply, and then replaces her frown with an uneasy smile. Clears her throat. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?” she says, recovering with the perfected diplomacy of a leader. Turning on her heel, she heads into the building.
We all exchange glances. I lean into Jaxen. “I’m worried about him… about what she could do to him. He’s so full of hate.”