Evernight (The Night Watchmen Series Book 2)

by Candace Knoebel

  A door bursts open from the other side of the room. Two Elites with guns pointed at my back storm in. “Put her down,” one of them says. I hear the safeties being released on the guns, the easing of their breath as they aim. “Now!” the other yells.

  I drop her like she’s nothing more than garbage.

  She gasps, coughs, and claws for air as I look down on her. I make sure I’m wearing my enjoyment in my smile. Make sure she knows just who she’s dealing with.

  She’s yelling out for someone, yelling out at me, and her voice is hoarse and strained. The sound is like music to my ears. Her pain… her suffering, I’m reveling in it, swimming in the satisfaction of having done what I’ve wanted to do for so long.

  Shut her up. Even if just for a moment.

  A Witch walks in the door, and I sense her magic enveloping Clara, wrapping her in healing energy. Slowly, Clara makes her way to her feet. I stand my ground, feeling every eye in the room on my back, just waiting for my next move.

  Clara dismisses the Witch with a wave of her hand. The marks left from my grip have faded with magic. She takes her time walking up to me, and I think I sense her hesitancy, maybe even her fear, but then she strikes me hard across the face, so hard I stumble back. Blood coats the inside of my mouth.

  I don’t know if I want to laugh, scream, or rip every hair from her head. I feel like I’m standing in an alternate universe where bad is good and good is bad. I reach for her again, ready to finish what I started, but the Elites press forward, their guns raised high and ready, stopping me from moving any further.

  “Not a single thing I’ve said has sunk in yet, has it?” she says wildly. “One more mistake like that and I will end your friends. Do you understand?”

  I spit blood at her feet and endure another slap. White-hot rage crowds my rationality. I’m breathing like I’ve ran a marathon and my mind can’t catch up to the fact that I’ve stopped. I feel so sick, like I’m two sips of air from my last. Two heartbeats away from the end.

  She must see the fear taking up residence in my mind, because she moves in, breathing hard through her words. “The choice is inevitable. That’s why you need to be separated from them. You need to harden yourself, Faye Middleton. The Coven’s needs must always come first.”

  “The Coven’s, or yours?” I blurt out, lips curling in disgust.

  Her eyes disappear into slits. Her smile has run off with my obedience. “The seal will be broken, either by you working with this Coven, or by you being forced under the hands of the Darkyn Coven. It’s been foretold by the great Divine Cecilia, and it’s in your hands as to who you help.”

  I can’t help the snort that rips past my lips, riddled with suppressed laughter. “You want me to harden myself? To accept that either way, I’ll be a pet, a tool, a piece in a chess game played by whichever side I choose, who in some way or another believe they’re both right?” I swallow down my rage and bore into her eyes, really letting her see just how I feel. “You want me to choose? To take the reins? Then don’t think for a second that I’ll ever be your pet, Clara. I won’t be pushed.”

  She throws a look over her shoulder. Both Elites move forward until cold steel is pressed against the warmth of both my temples. My spine is stiff, so stiff I can’t move a single muscle. My brain is on overload, trying to escape this body that seems to have a death wish. I feel like I’ve been strapped into a harness. Pinned against a wall. Nailed inside a coffin that has no escape.

  Breathe, I tell myself, but my lungs won’t expand. They don’t want to touch the two Elites who are a breath’s length away from me. They don’t want to fuel the mind that controls the mouth that keeps getting us into this mess.

  “As you can see, my pull is stronger than you can imagine,” Clara says, staring crossly at me, “and I will use it if you do not obey.”

  “You’re bluffing,” I say, wishing I could believe my own words. “You won’t hurt any of us. You need us too much.”

  “Show her,” she says aloud to whoever is on the other side of the door watching us.

  A wall shifts into a screen across from me and, slowly, the image of a sniper comes into view. He’s standing in the rear of a classroom with his rifle targeted on the back of Jaxen’s head.

  I gasp. My premonition. The second choice.

  This is happening too fast. I don’t understand how the world could be spinning, passing me by so fast, yet my feet are rooted in place. I don’t know how I’ve managed to continue breathing when my heart has surely stopped working.

  “My guards are ready to take him, and anyone else, out at my command should you make the wrong choice here, Middleton.”

  The hand covering my mouth, stifling my ability to warn him. It was Clara. But the flag burning behind her…

  “You wouldn’t. It wouldn’t look good for your reputation,” I breathe out, praying I’m right despite the churning feeling in my stomach. Despite the acid that’s grown fingers clawing up the back of my throat.

  She turns and levels her hateful gaze on me. “Do you want to test that theory? People die in these rooms every day for a multitude of reasons. You think I can’t cover it up? Spin it to my advantage? You think I’m new to this game?”

  All I can see is the little red dot on the back of his head. See his smile vanishing because of my stupidity. I have to make the right choice. I have to keep him safe.

  “Fine,” I relent, feeling myself hollowing out from the inside out. Feeling like this one syllable word is stronger than any ink a pen could provide when signing away the rights of a living, breathing person.

  She’s pleased. It’s there in her gloating smile. She fixes her hair and straightens her jacket like she so often does. “This is a precaution, Faye, and if you think about saying anything about this little discussion, then I’ll have you and your friends permanently separated. But if you do as I say, when I say, then all of this will go in your favor. Who knows, you might even be able to find out what happened to your parents.” She leans in to my ear. “But if you don’t, then maybe what happened to them will happen to your friends.”

  I’m vibrating from head to toe in anger. Seeing myself kill her over and over until there’s nothing left of her body. Until there’s nothing left of the person I once was.

  “You know about my parents?” I ask so low that I can barely hear the words myself. “How do you know that?”

  She stands back up. Smoothes down the front of her skirt. “No,” she says shortly. “I don’t.”

  “But you said—”

  “One slip up, Faye,” she says hotly, cutting me off. “One slip up and the family you have left disappears. Got it?”

  Threats. Ones I can’t escape. Threats that pin me down by the arms and legs with thick hands covering my mouth. Pinching my nose. Suffocating me. My teeth grind against each other. My fists clench and unclench, seeking release. Slowly, I look up at her and nod.

  Because for the first time in my life, I have no other choice.

  BY THE TIME FOUR ROLLS around, I’ve managed to chew through the side of my tongue.

  I can’t stop thinking about how Clara seems to have perfected the art of manipulation. Like maybe she’s trained for this her entire life, these specific moments where she takes people—beautiful, whole people—and picks them apart, piece by painful piece, until they’re fragmented shards of who they used to be without a chance in hell at putting themselves back together.

  Maddock… me… the countless other names I’ve yet to hear of. And who knows, maybe even her poor sister Claire.

  In a matter of ten hours, since she’s shown me her true colors, she’s taken every bit of my resolve and shoved it into a blender. Chopped it up into a mushy, indistinguishable pile. Weldon and Gavin, and everyone else had said that soon enough, we would know her motive for releasing us all. Well, unfortunately, she’s decided to share it only with me.

  It is because their lives are a means to getting what she wants from me. Nothing more, nothing less.

>   Since Clara retreated with her two Elites, I’ve sat in the middle of this room with the camera zoomed in on me from the left corner. My eyes have remained focused on the same spot on the floor—the small blotch of dried-up blood I spit at her feet hours ago. My back has stiffened into a straight line I’m not sure I can ever bend again. I’ve lost feeling in my bottom and my hands that I sit on.

  “Show me something of interest. Something I can work with. Something I can build off,” she had said on her way out.

  So I sat down, crossed my legs, and pretended I was anywhere but here.

  The first half of the day was a whole lot of nothing. A whole lot of her entering and leaving the room, sometimes yelling, sometimes talking in a hushed whisper. But every time, telling me that I better do something. That I better not be trying to pull one over on her.

  She doesn’t believe that I don’t know what she wants from me.

  So she brought in small objects. Tested the strength of my magic by making me cast a number of spells, and when that proved satisfactory, she moved on to my volation skills. It was a series of tests, just like the ones I performed when kept in the Correctional Facility, and not a single one of them satiated whatever Clara is looking for in me.

  I know this because she made a point to point it out. A million times over.

  When four finally decides to show itself, Clara walks into the room, her lavender eyes tight and flashing with anger. “Tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow, you will show me something more than a deadpan stare. Do you understand?”

  My lips are glued shut with betrayal and anger. They have been for hours now. I don’t look up at her when I nod. My head doesn’t even feel connected to my neck. My body doesn’t even feel connected to this moment. I’m positive I’ve entered hell. That this place couldn’t be any worse than the Underground.

  I think she huffs. “You may go.”

  My legs somehow find the strength to stand, and I turn for the door. It’s half open when she adds, “And remember, Middleton, not a single word.”

  Blood, screams, and horror. That’s what I see and hear. That’s what her words really mean.

  The door slams shut behind me, and I can’t move quickly enough. My feet, my lungs, and my heart aren’t working hard enough, aren’t supplying me with enough oxygen to carry me to my freedom. To deliver me back to the safety of my friends. Back to the comfort of Jaxen’s arms.

  Four Elites stand in front of the elevator, talking about some rumor concerning the Priesthood, but my ears barely register what they’re saying as I turn back and head for the stairs. I don’t want to be around anyone. Not a single person except for those I trust.

  Two at a time, I rush down the stairs as heat flares up my body, wrapping my skin in bright pink. When I make it to the bottom, I shove through the door and continue running, heading in the direction I left Jaxen and the others this morning.

  My mind is in so many places, yet nowhere at all. It’s filled with all these words, all these truths and secrets that don’t fit, yet can’t be released. The faces around me blur as sweat drips into my eyes. I reach up to wipe it away when a shoulder slams into mine.

  Hands latch onto my arms, stopping me before I can take off again, and I almost scream. My mouth opens wide and all the emotions that have beaten against my heart and hammered against my skull rush up my throat, dying for their escape.

  But his voice suspends them.

  “Faye? What’s wrong!” Jaxen asks, squeezing my arms tightly. Shaking me until I look at him. I blink a million times until my vision clears enough for me to find his green eyes. For me to see the panic that’s so plainly taken over the rough features of his face.

  Without thinking, I throw my arms around his neck and hug him to me. He’s here. He’s safe. He’s alive. I press my eyes closed and inhale his leathery scent. Dig my fingers through his hair. Never has he felt this good in my arms. His touch alone jumpstarts my heart back to life. Kick starts my brain into thinking the nightmare was just that—a nightmare, and nightmares have no place in the world only the two of us share.

  His arms slowly give and wrap around my waist, holding me close. I feel his chin nuzzle into the curve of my neck. Feel his lips press against the sensitive skin, sending a small chill down my spine.

  “Faye, tell me. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

  “No,” I force out against every part of me that wants to say yes.

  “Then what’s wrong? Why are you shaking?” He lets go of my waist and forces me to step back so he can look at me. His eyes are taking stock of every body part, stopping just at my lip. His brow dips. “You’re cut.” Anger flashes within his pupils. “Who the hell—?”

  Tears push behind my eyes, so I force them on the wall. Anywhere but on his face. The face that offers me safety… offers me a kind gaze I know I can confide in.

  “Faye, tell me,” he says, gentler this time, and I think my heart has withered away.

  I want to cut my tongue out because I’m scared I won’t be able to keep the truth in. That I won’t be able to stop myself from spilling every awful moment that has transpired since I left him this morning.

  This isn’t about me. This is about him. About all of them and their safety.

  I steel myself, grab his hand, and pull it from my mouth, swallowing past the desert that’s managed to lodge itself in my throat. “Fight training,” I say, my voice as brittle as glass. “I… I was clumsy.” I cover my mouth with my hand and use just enough magic to make the mark disappear. “See? All better.”

  His brow presses into a hard line. His lip twitches, and I know I’m in for it. I know he doesn’t buy it, and he’s not going to give up until I spew every last secret Clara wants me to keep. Until I’ve dug his grave for him, six feet under, fresh and ready for her vengeance to send him into the next life.

  “Jaxen, I’m telling you, I’m fi—”

  “Look who it is!” I hear from behind me.

  My sigh of relief is louder than I want it to be, but thankfully, Jaxen doesn’t notice.

  Gavin slaps my back and squeezes my shoulder. “I see you made it through your first day in hell. Can’t say the same for myself.”

  He has a shiner. A large one on his left eye. “Wha—what happened?” I ask, feeling a small bit of relief in his wound, and a large amount of guilt for having that feeling. But it will help my case… my lie. It will help Jaxen believe me when I tell him that Clara isn’t a… isn’t a monster.

  “Well, you see, what happened was…” he says, adjusting the hem of his pants and brushing a hand through his hair.

  Cassie starts laughing as she and Jezi walk up behind him. “Is he trying to tell you stories?” she asks as she slides her hand over Gavin’s shoulder. She rests it on his chest, stopping right in front of him. “What happened was… Gavin’s finally met his match.” She passes her hand over his eye and, with the movement and a little bit of magic, the shiner is gone.

  Gavin huffs loudly, looks off to the side, and then back over at me. “In all fairness, the dude was like bred from giants or something.”

  “It’s okay,” Cassie says, patting his chest. “I still think you’re man enough.”

  Jezi snickers, and it warrants a heated glare from Gavin, which does little to nothing in curbing her laughter.

  He rolls his eyes, and then looks back at us. “Look, I don’t know about you, but I’m covered in sweat. I need a shower, and then dinner,” Gavin says.

  “And maybe a healthy dose of humble pie,” Jezi adds, pretending to examine her nails.

  “No,” Gavin drags out, “that was already served to me at practice, thank you very much.” He kisses Cassie’s forehead, and then sets his eyes on Jaxen. “Want to meet up later for dinner?”

  Jaxen looks over at me. He’s asking me without asking me.

  “Yes,” I say, even going as far as adding a smile. “I’m famished.”

  Just the thought of food makes my stomach turn, but they can’t know that. They can’t
suspect a single thing, and judging by the easy smiles on their faces, I don’t think they do. Even Jaxen seems to be loosening up a little in his stance.

  Success tastes bitter.

  I never knew I could be such a good liar. I didn’t realize just how little I really know about myself. Just how far I can be pushed to do things I swore only yesterday I would never do.

  “Good, so then let’s say… an hour from now, we meet back at the taco stand?” Gavin asks, throwing his arm over Cassie’s shoulder. She leans into him, wrapping her arm around his waist.

  “Ugh, not tacos again,” Jezi protests, unzipping the top of her uniform just enough to show a little bit of cleavage. “Why don’t we try sushi?”

  “Hell no,” Gavin says with disgust, sticking out his tongue.

  A few of the Elites in training walking past us slow and stare at Jezi, their eyes crawling up and down her frame. I think she likes it, because she flicks her hair back over her shoulder and smiles in their direction.

  Jaxen doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are still on me, still trying to figure out my earlier distress.

  “There’s got to be a vendor who sells Chinese and sushi,” Cassie says. “Let’s meet in the middle.”

  “Fine. Whatever,” Gavin says, and then he and Cassie head past us for the front door.

  The three of us follow behind them, heading back to our rooms. Jaxen doesn’t say another word about my earlier state of mind, and I’m glad for it because I’m not so sure I could continue with the lies.

  “Where’s Weldon?” I ask when we make it into the building. I want to think about everyone else and their problems… because mine are like hundred-pound weights that I’m too weak to carry. They’re like snares planted by Clara, just waiting for me to step into.

  “He left early,” Jezi says. “He didn’t see eye to eye with the instructors, so they dismissed him for the day to get himself in check. The usual shit he pulls.”

  “Is he all right?” I ask, wondering where he could be. Thinking about how he was treated this morning.