Evermore (The Night Watchmen Series Book 5)

by Candace Knoebel

  Alesteria turns from the filing cabinet with something in her hands. A small wooden box with the symbol of our Coven carved into the top. When she opens it, there’s a bundle of what looks like hair and sticks woven together. I move closer, Weldon following behind me, and we lean in. The hair is black and stringy, intertwined into fibrous strands of vine. There’s a flaky, brown substance on the outside of it, and it takes me a second to realize it’s blood.

  “That’s not creepy,” Weldon comments, recoiling before turning away from us to finish packing one of the filing cabinets.

  “This is hers,” she says, peering over the lid. She turns the box over and waits. Across the bottom is a note carved in the same flaky brown substance stuck within the etched lines. It reads:

  Only one worthy of my love will possess this.

  With this, not even death can separate us.

  Sanura

  “We have her blood,” Alesteria says, sealing the fate of invoking. “She wanted him to have a way to find her should something happen to her. I’m sure she had one of his as well. It’s a way to guarantee finding one another in the Dwelling.”

  “How romantic,” Weldon mutters.

  Her words swell inside my brain until they explode. Dwelling. Invoking. Reincarnation. Returned from death.

  Cassie.

  Alesteria stares at the doll, transfixed. “I must go. I need to speak with the others first. We all have to be on board with this,” she says, the resolution in her voice pulling at my spine, straightening my shoulders out. She shuffles with Sanura’s folder, putting the papers back and then tucking it under her arm. “It seems there isn’t enough time for more revelations, but they still keep forming.”

  “My dad once told me it is only when we don’t want to look that a revelation reveals itself,” I say, wishing it wasn’t so. Thinking about all the things he knew about this world… about the world they tried to shield me from, and how many hints he had thrown at me when I was little.

  She pauses. Swallows the thought. “I thought I sensed a highbrow in your father.” She stops in front of me with a smirk winged on the corner of her lip. “Just as I sensed in you. No one can know about this. Not even your friends. Not until we have a decision.”

  The door shuts behind her after I nod, taking all my resolve with her.

  “Nothing like a bit of murder and disturbed spirits to get the morning started,” Weldon says the moment she’s gone, tipping his blood-filled glass at the door. “And here I thought they’d be dull.”

  “What if I could bring her back?” I say when I think Alesteria is far enough away.

  “Oh yeah, Faye. Release not one, but two crazies? That’s just what this world needs.”

  I turn and grab him by the shoulders, forcing him to be still and look me in the eyes. “No,” I say assertively, pointedly. “If I go down there, what if I can bring Cassie back?”

  His eyes widen just enough to tell me he’s on the same page now.

  “She said it herself. I was dead, but she brought me back. And my magic is stronger than it ever was. With whatever I absorbed from Mourdyn’s blood… what if… what if I could bring her back?”

  His eyes are still wide as he turns away from me, setting his drink down so he can palm the table. “That’s a hefty order, Faye. Very ambitious.”

  “Yes, but what if?”

  He looks over his shoulder at me, eyes covered in sorrow. “Faye… we don’t even know what’s going to happen with this Sanura person.”

  I look away from him. Busy myself with the journals again. “I know. I just thought…”

  “You’re a good friend, Faye.”

  I nod and sit, pretending to go back to work. Acting as if I let the idea go, but it has rooted itself in the back of my mind, just waiting for the right moment.

  If I’m going to the Dwelling, I won’t leave without her.

  WE FINISH HIS JOURNALS AND most of his tapes within the week.

  Cecilia and Garrick decide to join us shortly after they met with Alesteria, due to the important nature of Sanura’s revelation, to speed up the process. Sleep has become a long-distant friend I no longer talk to. My days and nights blend together as if they’ve been tossed in a bag and shaken up before handed back to me.

  With the blinds shut and the curtains drawn, it’s hard to tell up from down. Light from dark. That’s how Alesteria prefers it. It’s like Sanura became as real for her as she was to Mourdyn. Our breaks consist of reading. Our meals consist of reading. Even our sleep consists of listening to his thoughts play out on tape after tape.

  I’m scared that if I looked in a mirror, all I’ll see staring back at me will be him.

  Jaxen and Jezi try to come by a few times to bring food to Weldon and me, but, every time, they’re greeted at the door by The Seven and not permitted a foot within the room under Alesteria’s orders. The closest I’ve come to seeing Jaxen in the past week was a brief, flitting glance thrown over One’s shoulder before the door slammed in his face.

  I’m sure if I threw a big enough fit, Alesteria would allow me a short reprieve to explain to him what was happening, but she was right. Time is a precious commodity, and we need to save every ounce we can by finishing what we started so we can move forward confidently. No stone can remain unturned, not when the stakes are so high.

  After finding out about her, it’s like she was scribbled all over every page. I don’t know if it’s because she became of value to us, or if his obsession just grew thicker with every day that passed, but her name is like a warning sign flashing on nearly every page in the rest of his journals. If it isn’t in the sentences, then it is woven in the inner seam of the page, or drawn on the top or around the corners, almost in a rhythm, like a heartbeat strewn across paper.

  Cecilia told me we won’t go through with the invoking unless we are absolutely sure it is necessary. Looking at the pages littered with her name, almost in a worshiping way, I know there is no escaping it.

  I will be entering the Dwelling.

  By the beginning of the next week, Alesteria has scheduled a session of invoking in a controlled environment. One where she will be able to watch what I see through an invention of Mack’s—something he’s worked tirelessly on for this specific moment.

  I’ve told myself this is for the best. This is easy compared to what I’ve already been through… easier than death itself. But something, a little bomb of warning waiting to be ignited, sits in the back of my mind, just waiting for its moment. I don’t know how to translate what I’m feeling when Alesteria asks me if I’m okay and if I feel confident about the plan. I know what I want to say will sound like I’m not, but it isn’t that I’m scared. I left fear behind long ago.

  Just… something doesn’t feel right.

  “We will begin the invoking tonight when the moon is at its fullest,” she says as we pack Mourdyn’s belongings into their appropriately labeled boxes to be shelved in storage. It feels weird putting his words away. Storing a part of him up inside small boxes to collect dust.

  Weldon opens the curtains and raises the blinds, and we all look away as the setting sun spills through the room, almost as if it had been pressed up against the glass this entire time, trying to find a way in.

  “Good God, it has been too long since I’ve seen light,” he says as he stretches in front of the window, the amber rays smoothing over his skin.

  Alesteria pauses after sealing up the last box. Clears her throat and waits for the attention she’s asked for. When Weldon turns, almost as if he’s unsure she was asking for him, she says, “I don’t think I’ve thanked you for your help.”

  Flagrant as ever, Weldon says, “You haven’t.”

  She blinks at him. Cecilia snickers with a hand over her lips. A flit of a grin moves over Garrick’s mouth, but it’s gone almost before I can distinguish it.

  “I’ve been keeping tabs,” Weldon adds, blank-faced. “For business reasons, of course. You never know when you might be able to call upon a fav
or.”

  She sighs, and then a weary smile blooms across her face. “I like you,” she says with a small nod.

  If he’s shocked, he doesn’t show it. Cool as ever, he replies, “Of course you do. Everyone does. What’s not to like?”

  He flashes his demon eyes, and a burst of laughter fills the room as she doubles over.

  Delirium, I think, has set in.

  “I don’t know why that’s so funny,” she says, trying to breathe through snorts of laughter.

  “You’re tired, dear,” Cecilia points out.

  “Thank you,” Alesteria says when she catches her breath, wiping tears from her eyes. “Both of you. I know none of this is easy. We may even be asking too much of you. But your steadfast strength, and your—” she looks to Weldon, “well, your wit, has made this unbearable situation bearable. That in itself is a rare gem I will cherish going forward.”

  Weldon takes a grand bow as I tip my head in her direction.

  “Now, if you would, go meet with your friends. Have a few good laughs of your own before we meet again tonight. We will need all the high spirits we can get. In the meantime, we will speak with Maddock and Seamus about our plan for tonight, and finalize the finishing touches.”

  Weldon and I look to each other. It doesn’t take but a split second for us to say quick goodbyes and head straight for the elevator.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m considering saying to hell with it and taking the stairs. I don’t want to be here if she changes her mind and makes us come back,” Weldon says as he bounces on his toes.

  “She won’t change her mind,” I say, even though that bit of doubt is already sneaking its way up my spine.

  The elevator dings and we jump in, jamming the close-door button.

  “I’m going to find her, kiss her, and then get myself a drink. You?” he asks as we make our way down.

  I think about it for a moment. “Find him. Kiss him. And then find my dad and hug him. Maybe even thank him for being a great dad.”

  The door slides open.

  “Until tonight?” Weldon poses, looking like he’s waiting for the gun to go off so he can plow past the starting line.

  “Until tonight,” I say with a smile, laughing as he takes off, leaving dust in his wake.

  WHERE ONE GOES, THE OTHER always follows.

  Weldon doesn’t make it very far when I knock into the back of him. Jezi and Jaxen are just outside at a small vendor selling tacos. The stand is a small cart, steam rising in bright swirls, obscuring the woman shoveling sizzling meat around inside the pan. The aromatic scent of spices draw us closer, like fingers curling to us, pulling us forward. It’s been days since we’ve eaten a fresh meal. Even longer since we’ve set eyes on our better halves.

  Jaxen and Jezi don’t notice us at first as they make their way forward in line. Lost in a conversation I can’t even begin to relate to, and it makes me wonder what they’ve been up to. What kind of assignments Mack has sent them on. I smile when I think about how Jezi could barely stand the thought of me when we first met, and how I always had the burning itch to find myself inside Jaxen’s mind.

  Look at us now.

  “Look at them, smiling at each other. Laughing at each other’s jokes.” Weldon leans over and says, “They used to hate each other.”

  “That’s because, deep down, they did love each other. They just needed to figure out how they loved each other,” I say as a smile wraps around my heart.

  “Aren’t you just so philosophical?” he remarks with a small snort.

  I nudge him, giggling, and then start toward them. Everyone in line has pushed forward, huddling closer than normal. Winter has made a nest in our city, preparing our bones for the snow. What trees had changed for the season are now curling in amongst themselves, almost as if holding onto what warmth they can before the bitter cold rips at their leaves.

  I sneak up behind Jaxen and say, “Hey, you,” laughing when he jumps and bumps into Jezi, who lets out a short shriek when Weldon pokes her in the side.

  Jaxen doesn’t hesitate. I feel every minute we’ve spent apart in his hug as he wraps his full arms around me, closing me in from the cutting breeze. “I’ve missed you,” he says against my ear, and his words forming a bubble around us, closing us off from everyone.

  “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you,” I say against his chest as his heart thuds against my cheek.

  “I was beginning to think they took you as a prisoner.” He says it as a joke, but there’s a layer of worry underneath his words that speaks volumes.

  I swallow. “We found what we were looking for,” I say, wishing I could just tell him everything. Wishing he knew what was going to happen. I hate that I have become good at keeping secrets. That this world has changed me into a hardened shell of who I once was.

  “Oh, yeah?” he asks, waiting, hoping I might say more. “And?”

  I lean back. Plant a soft kiss against his lips. “And… when it is all said and done, I think a long, warm vacation is in order with lots of drinks and pillow talk.”

  A low, hearty growl emerges from the back of his throat as his green eyes melt around me.

  “You’re up,” Weldon says, smacking Jaxen on the arm to get his attention.

  The woman behind the cart doesn’t look up when she asks Jaxen for his order. Her hands are like magic, turning over meat and flipping tortillas with such precision that it leaves my mind spinning. Jaxen pays once the woman spells the machine with the charge, grabs our order, and then takes my hand in his, guiding us to the small sitting area littered with benches meant for the employees to have a break in between planning wars and researching new weapons.

  It always amazes me how easily we can adapt to grave situations and still manage to move about in our daily habits. Plotting a takedown while eating a snack. Figuring out new ways to kill while watching citizens shop and eat and play.

  At our very core, we are creatures of habit. Not even war can change that.

  We take our seat and I look up, tilting my head to where the sun should be. But there is no warmth to be had. Gloom has painted the clouds in shades of gray, clouds rolling furiously, whipping the white flags of the Coven back and forth with such force I fear they might rip right in half.

  There’s a storm on the rise.

  “What do you think about dinner tonight with Gavin?” Jaxen asks as he hands me my tacos and a napkin. “He asked about you yesterday. I think Chrissa’s really helping him come around.”

  My heart does a small leap, and then immediately sinks. “I can’t. I have to do something with Alesteria tonight.”

  Something that might just permanently erase Gavin’s frown.

  Weldon looks at me funny, on the verge of dipping back into the debate about my ambitions, but is cut off by Jezi asking, “You too?” with her lips pouting.

  He kisses her lips and says, “Yes, love. Wherever mouse goes, I go.”

  Jaxen watches me, appraising my every feature. I keep a straight face. Don’t even twitch. Still, I think he sees right through it. “Everything okay?”

  I know he wants to know more. I would too if the tables were turned. It’s times like these that I’m glad I broke our connection, because I don’t think I’d have the strength to keep him out of my mind. I want to tell him about Sanura and the Dwelling, and how tonight might change everything. He should know. He should be a part of this.

  But he isn’t my partner.

  “Everything is fine,” I say, my smile as bright as I can make it. “We just have to tie up a loose end. We think we found a significant link to Mourdyn that we need to consider before we can all move forward with a plan.”

  He stares at me for a second, and I can tell he knows I’m hiding something. He knows me too well. But he doesn’t push me any further. Doesn’t ask any more questions.

  “Anyway,” I say, trying to shift the conversation back to something safe. Something other than the current stress wringing my muscles and my brain. “
How have the hunts been?” It’s been a millennium since our date almost two weeks ago. I stare at the square planes of his face, wanting to reach out and touch him. What I wouldn’t give to go back to that night and remain frozen in his arms for the rest of eternity.

  It’s a whole lot safer than what I’m about to do tonight.

  “It’s been decent,” he says after nearly swallowing a taco whole.

  I never understood men and their appetites. How they can shovel down food without taking a second to enjoy it.

  “We captured a few Darkyns. So far, though, none of them has talked. We’ll just have to keep digging around until we find that one who will point us in Mourdyn’s direction.”

  I take a bite and force myself to swallow. I have zero appetite, but I know if I don’t eat, then Jaxen will definitely know what’s up.

  After Jezi and Weldon sit with their food, I relax a little, feeling like the pressure has been taken off me. We fall into casual conversation, and, for a moment, I forget about all the problems and lose myself in the comfort of watching Jezi and Weldon together. I missed them like this. Missed seeing the way they look at each other, the pain they’ve both endured a minor thing of the past.

  My gaze is pulled by a little girl walking with her mother. Every few feet, she runs ahead and stops in front of her with her arms held up in the air, begging to be carried. She looks to be no older than five, with long, golden hair dancing with the breeze. Every time she puts her hands up, her mother tells her no and grabs her hand, trying to pull her back to her side.

  But the little girl doesn’t give up, and an image of my mother flashes before my eyes. Of me asking her to hold me and her bending down on one knee, telling me, “You’re a big girl now, Faye. I love you. You will always be my little girl, but at some point, you’re going to have to stand on your own two feet.”

  I blink away bitter tears as the mother scoops the girl up into her arms and leans her head against hers, holding her close. I look to Jaxen, hoping one day we’ll have the chance to be parents. To teach them everything we know and to watch them grow, little pieces of us set free into the world, continuing our line even when we cannot any longer.