Evermore (The Night Watchmen Series Book 5)

  “I didn’t realize how much I’d like the gym,” she says, her voice picking up again.

  “I can barely get her out of there,” Chett chimes in with a hearty chuckle. The sound shocks me a little because he has a pleasant laugh, nothing at all like I imagined. There’s a fullness to the sound. A lightness that lifts.

  She beams up at him, hugging him close, and then looks back to me. Her inner light is still as contagious as ever, and it makes me feel homesick for the way things used to be. Before secrets. Before boys. Before this… this Coven.

  “You never answered,” she points out, briefly rubbing her hand against my arm. “How are you?”

  I bite my lip as the truth floods my mind. How am I? I don’t remember the last time I’ve been asked that. There’s been so much that happened in such a short amount of time, I haven’t even taken a second to think about how I am amid it all. Tired. Determined. Sad. Scared. I’m a barrel of conflicted feelings sloshing back and forth.

  “I’m doing good,” I finally say, feeling exhausted by the weight of all that’s happened. Even if I wanted to tell her the truth, I don’t think I could. There isn’t enough time in the day. Besides, she looks so happy and healthy. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of another lost smile on her face.

  She nods at me, still smiling, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes anymore, and I think I might be the cause of it.

  A sort of awkwardness moves in between us like an invisible wall as we try to think of something to say. Her gaze moves past me, to the vendor pulling his boat in from the canal to set up shop next to us, and then to an older woman taping a picture of a missing man to a light pole. This is the same girl I could stay up with for hours on end, never once running out of things to say, our throats sore from too much singing and laughing. Who always had the right words to comfort me or make me laugh when I was being melodramatic. I never had to tell her—she just knew it by looking at me.

  I want to get back to that place, but I feel like I’ve been dropped in the middle of a forest without a compass. I don’t know how to get back to her. I don’t know where our friendship fits inside this new life we’ve been shoved into.

  “Listen,” she says, reinforcing her smile. “Chett and I were going to meet Jezi and Damien later for drinks if you want to come with Jaxen? Everyone deserves a night off sometimes, and, knowing you, I doubt you’ve allowed yourself that.” She pauses, a glint of mischief in her grin, and adds with a hitched thumb in The Seven’s direction, “You can even bring your groupies.”

  Her words are like a hug to my heart. In her eyes, I see that she does see my pain. She does still know me, beneath the years of growth that have been added to me like rings in a tree. At our very core, we are still the same girls who used to sneak out when our parents weren’t home to have sleepovers. The memories frozen, crystallized in our minds, waiting for us to peek at every now and then.

  I answer without thinking. I answer for the girl trapped inside me. The one who wants to appreciate every second I may not have left.

  I answer, “Absolutely.”

  “DO YOU THINK THE DREAM meant something?” I ask just after explaining what I saw of Mourdyn to Alesteria.

  Weldon plows a hand through his golden locks, blowing out forcefully under the weight of all he’s had to catch up on. He had it somewhat easy avoiding the truth of what happened to the Divine by hiding away with Charlie.

  Alesteria chews on the edge of her thumbnail as she stares out the window, down to the citizens shuffling along the city streets. “Maybe,” she says, her voice distant with thought. “It could be because of what happened with the necklace. By absorbing the fraction of his magic, maybe you also absorbed some of his memories laced with it.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say, tilting my head to the side.

  She turns, clearing her expression. “All magic comes from within us. It’s tied to who we are, good memories and bad, feeding off the light and dark that makes us who we are. But our strongest power comes from the moments that scar us and change our courses. Maybe you’re seeing those stronger memories that fed his darkness.”

  I hear the screams of the little boy and watch Weldon grip the edges of his seat as he cringes, hearing it too. “It felt real,” I say, my voice shaking.

  “I think it was,” Weldon says after watching the images replaying through my head.

  “The only way we can find out is by continuing to go through his things. Although he was a private man, he enjoyed keeping fragments of his life. If it happened, I’m sure he wrote about it,” Alesteria says as she opens a cabinet and pulls out a stack of journals. “I’m afraid our time is running out. With you here,” she says, eyes flickering to Weldon, “I think we should make use of the three sets of eyes and try to get through as many of these as we can.” She opens a drawer and pulls out three markers, hands one to each of us, and then slides a white board into the center of the room. “Read what you can and speak up when you think you find something significant. Something that anchored him to his humanity. Something important that Faye can put in her arsenal.”

  We nod and dive in head-first, swimming deeper than any of us want to into Mourdyn’s mind. I plow through word after word, hoping the next one will lead me to the dream.

  Later, Mack’s voice cuts through the room. “Alesteria, Wistar has asked that I summon you, along with Faye and Weldon, so we can go over the final details before Charlie is sent out.”

  Alesteria looks up from the journal, blinking away the daze of Mourdyn’s thoughts. “We will be right there.”

  It doesn’t take us long to reach the war room. Jaxen, Sterling, and my father are there along with the rest of the Divine. Charlie sits as rigid as stone at the head of the table. It’s hard to imagine him as anyone other than who he is now, and it makes me wonder how he was with Jaxen. If he ever laughed or cried or yelled. If he ever showed an emotion other than the blank expression he wears.

  “Good. You’re here,” Mack says, ushering us into the room. “To catch you up, we were going over the details with a fine-tooth comb. We get one shot at this, and it needs to be authentic and irrefutable.” He doesn’t stop to breathe. Not to even blink as he continues the edge of thrill. “As of ten minutes ago, through our contacts, we know no one has been crowned. Mourdyn’s witches are making vast efforts to get him to the throne, but the demons are holding fast while trying to work out who their choice will be. They don’t want a witch ruling over them.

  “Charlie will take the body to the very core of the Underground where Bael’s office was and drop it at their feet to claim the throne as his, using my shadowblade as extra incentive. If he can show that he not only escaped under Bael’s watch, but then also took Bael’s life using the very weapon they all fear, then they should be willing to see him as their next king.

  “If he makes it past this part of the plan, then he will order all demons in the Underground to remove every Darkyn who does not leave once the order is given. They will have no choice but to surface, thus making them vulnerable to us. Mourdyn may try to fight this, but with everything we’ve gathered, not only does he not have the manpower, but his magic is also as weak as ever.”

  “But what if this was all a ploy on his part?” Sterling poses, pointing to Charlie as his words punch a harsh strike through the momentum of Mack’s words.

  Mack points back to Sterling, as if he was waiting for that very question to be asked. “Yes, because we can’t very well send him down there with a bunch of our men. That wouldn’t be very convincing, now would it?” He pauses for dramatic effect, and then finishes, “But if he’s bound by a blood oath and sent with one of these…” He holds up a small pin. On the screen behind him, Weldon’s face flashes. “He can’t betray us. He will not only perish under the blood oath should he break it, of which he has already sworn to this morning, but we will also be able to see everything he does. Every move made until his end of the bargain is held up and Mourdyn is flushed to the surface.”

>   He looks quite pleased with himself as he grabs the edges of his red suede jacket with his chest puffed out, like a bird during mating season. His eyes play over the room, smile touching the moon, and I think he’s waiting for something. Holding his breath for applause or a pat on the back.

  “Excellent work,” Wistar finally says, and Mack lets out a large gush of air. “Excellent. Excellent.” He turns to Charlie, who is still staring at the ground. He hasn’t looked up since we entered. “Do you feel confident, Charlie?” Wistar asks, watching him closely.

  Charlie finally looks up. His eyes are as dark as ever, like two deep holes in the center of the earth. Fathomless. Dark. Terrifying. Yet, there’s a tenderness to the edges when he looks to Jaxen. A twitch of humanity that can’t be mistaken in the harsh fluorescent lighting. “I do,” he says, eyes still on Jaxen. “I will do this for my boys. I owe it to them.”

  Jaxen looks away. I know he’s biting the pain back. Fighting the emotions that are threatening to explode from him. I grab his hand under the table and squeeze.

  “Good,” Wistar says, looking between Charlie and Jaxen. Putting the pieces of their broken relationship together. “We feel very fortunate to have this opportunity and stand with you as you venture into the unknown.”

  Charlie bows his head.

  “Well, then,” Mack says on a large inhale. “Now that everything is settled, I think it’s best we send him on his way. Hell won’t wait forever.” He snickers at his joke, but no one else is laughing.

  This isn’t like walking into a grocery store, asking to become a manager.

  Charlie stands. Doesn’t move as Mack applies the pen to his freshly pressed suit. Doesn’t say a word as everyone heads out of the office, going back to their daily duties as if what he’s about to walk into isn’t something we should all be chewing our nails to stubs over. Jaxen grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door. I want to tell him to say something. What if the plan doesn’t work and he never gets another chance?

  But I don’t have to because Charlie does.

  “Son,” Charlie calls out, the pleading in his tone enough to form shackles around Jaxen’s feet. “I want to say something to you.”

  Everyone except Mack and Weldon have left.

  Jaxen turns, looking his father straight in the eyes. The look he wears burns right through me. The pain that will never truly go away.

  “You have every right to feel how you do. What I did with Gavin…”

  “Don’t say his name,” Jaxen says, sounding on the verge of exploding as his fists ball at his sides.

  Charlie looks down. Inhales sharply. “Everything I did was done in the interest of our family. I am not proud of who I’ve become, but if I had to go back, I’d do it all again to give your mother one more day. I’m not asking for forgiveness. I don’t want it. But I do want you to know that you and Gavin are what kept me from flipping it all off completely. The thought of who you grew into. The hope that I might see you again one day. It was you. Always.” He stops as Jaxen looks up, and then he faces Mack. “I’m ready to go now.”

  Mack nods, and then Charlie vanishes in a shadow.

  “Well, if that didn’t bring a tear to your eye, then you’re just a heartless shit,” Weldon says as he slaps Jaxen on the back. “Told you he loved you, asshat.”

  Jaxen cuts a sharp glare in his direction.

  Weldon rolls his eyes. “Yes, I know. I know. ‘Shut up, Weldon. I’m a moody, brooding metro-man all in my feels.’ I know. I should be more sensitive to your feelings. Good Lord.” He exhales loudly. “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.”

  “He will do the right thing, Jaxen,” Mack says after Weldon leaves. “I feel it in my gut.”

  “I hope so,” Jaxen says, his voice light-years away from the present. He pulls me out of the room, heading in the direction of where I go to meet Alesteria, but I stop, forcing him to look at me.

  “Are you okay?”

  He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, gaze everywhere but on me.

  “Jaxen,” I say, running my hand up his arm.

  He finally looks at me, the faded green of his eyes slowly coming back to life. “It’s going to take time to accept that he will never be the dad I remember. I can get there. I want to get there. What he said… that was a start. I can hold onto that.”

  I kiss him, slowly, generously, wrapping my arms around him and holding him close. I love him. So much it hurts sometimes. When he lets me go, he grabs my hand again and walks me back to the elevator.

  “We should do something tonight. There’s no use in sitting around waiting for word from Char—from my father,” he quickly corrects. “It will only drive us mad.”

  “Katie wants to meet up as like a triple-date thing,” I offer, chewing my lip.

  “With Chett?”

  “Yeah,” I say, watching him.

  He looks to the side, and then huffs. “Okay. Yeah. That sounds good.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nods. “We all deserve a chance to change.”

  The elevator dings and he kisses me again, sending me off, back into the world of Mourdyn.

  Back into my own hell.

  THE CITY IS JUST BEGINNING to wake up by the time I leave Alesteria.

  Music pours into the street from various shops and bars like a siren’s call. Light notes sing the sun to sleep, coaxing the moon to rise higher and higher. Elites who worked day shift are coming in through the city gates, rifles casually slung over their shoulder and laughter exploding like gunshots against the frosted air. Citizens make their way out of their houses or from their jobs, stretching their smiles and thawing their composure. The downtown area where all the shops and restaurants reside is packed with bodies, forcing out the cold and welcoming warmed spirits.

  Our city is full of life and color and emotion. It’s contagious. Makes me want be blind to what I know. To shelf my responsibilities and let go.

  After ordering The Seven to head back to my apartment, I meet Jaxen by the fountain we agreed upon. He’s sitting with his legs slightly open, leaning on his elbows, only the crown of his head visible. If it wasn’t for the colorful lights inside the fountain shining behind him, he’d blend in with the night.

  He must sense me, because he looks up as I approach and a bright smile replaces the grim expression holding his face hostage.

  He stands as I walk toward him, already opening his arms to me. I fall into them, closing my eyes as his lips move against mine, his electric scent swarming my senses, fogging my mind. “Hey, you,” he says as he takes my hand in his and walks us in the direction where Katie is.

  “I missed you,” I admit, wishing we could just find a quiet spot and continue where that kiss could lead us. Wishing away these clothes and responsibilities.

  The left side of his mouth crooks up. “I missed you too.”

  We pass a couple kissing on a bench, hands exploring each other’s arms, and a spike of need shoots through the middle of me. I think he feels it to, because when he looks away from them, back to me, his eyes are swirling with desire like a tide pool pulling me in.

  “We… uh… Katie has a reservation, right?” he asks as he breaks eye contact.

  I still feel like I’m floating. “It’s a bar,” I say, watching the way his tongue moves over his lips. Wishing those were my lips his tongue was tasting.

  “Faye,” he says quietly. Intimately.

  “Hmm?” I ask, tilting my head to him.

  “We might not be connected anymore, but I can feel your desire. You keep it up, and I can assure you we won’t make it to wherever we’re meeting them.” The warning and hunger in his tone are like warmed fingers against my nerves, plucking each one like a guitar string, tuning me to him.

  “Maybe that’s what I want,” I say, tone like heated honey.

  He doesn’t look at me when he smirks, but I know he’s enjoying the playfulness as much as I am. He lifts his hand a second later, pointing to a building feet away from u
s. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  I make out Katie through the busy crowd, waving her hands eagerly. With a heated look, I debate his offer. Picture us wrapped in sheets and each other, letting the world fall away from us as our bodies connect. I lean in on tiptoes, whispering against his ear, “This will be continued after drinks.”

  His eyes fill with desire as I look away from him and shoot my hand into the air, telling her I see her. We say excuse me what feels like a thousand times just to cross a few feet of street space. Bumping and sliding past angles of arms and legs, all woven like an interlocking web of communion.

  “You made it!” Katie says over top of the thumping music, leaving Chett’s side to pull me into a hug. She smells like honey and cinnamon. Warm and grounded. “Jezi and Damien already went in and got a table. The lines were getting crazy, and we wanted to make sure we had a place to sit.”

  My eyes follow the line of patrons huddled against the brick walls in small packs, congregating down the sidewalk and wrapping around the building. Looking back at Katie, I smile. “I’m glad she did because I don’t think I would make it waiting in a line that long.”

  She giggles and then ushers us into the bar, thanking the bouncer for letting us in. The music glides over my skin, beating against my ribcage almost as if it’s trying to get in. I could get lost in this. I could forget everything, shut my eyes to the world, and just move. Breathe with the fullness of the notes. The air is thick with a dizzying array of scents. Smoke, platters of sizzling food, and bodies warmed as they sway and jump on the dance floor.

  The one and only time I have ever been to a club like this before was with Katie one night when we sneaked out to meet up with a couple of girls from high school who invited us. I was against it, mostly because I knew my parents would kill me if they found out, but Katie begged and I never could tell her no. When we got there, I felt like I had stepped into an entirely different world. Like I had shed my skin, if only for one night, and became the music we danced to. Sweaty with voices raw from laughing so hard, we crawled back into our beds and vowed to do it again, at least once in our lifetime.