Everlasting

by Candace Knoebel

  I kick the door shut a little too hard and stalk over to my bed. The door bounces back open and the sound of heavy steps barge into my room. “I said, I was…” I start to say, but then stop as soon as I realize who walked in.

  Jaxen.

  This is the first time he’s visited my room outside of walking me to training every morning. His hair is disheveled, probably from the afternoon wind. A large, dark strand rests over his forehead, hiding his green eyes, waiting for me to move it. Every muscle in his body is rigid when his eyes fall on me, seeming to pierce right through me. He’s holding a large, weathered Grimoire in one hand and a dagger in the other. My mother’s Grimoire and my father’s flux. I gasp, moving back a step.

  “If this is a bad time,” he says, dropping his gaze with a frown settled on his lips. He’s always frowning, and it makes me sad for him, even when I’m annoyed by him. He carefully sets the Grimoire and the flux down on the desk by the door. He turns to leave, one foot already crossing the threshold.

  “No!” I say almost too quickly, too desperately. He stops, and my heart flutters, sending heat up along with it. I swallow, evening my voice, and say, “I thought you were Nathaniel coming to bark at me again.” This time my voice is back in its normal register.

  “Oh,” he says, his head tilted ever so slightly. It moves the piece of hair in his face off to the side, unveiling the brightness of his eyes. He looks ruggedly handsome and it does something to me. It makes my hands itch and my throat dry and my lips quiver.

  “You can come in,” I say, trying to make it sound like a friendly invite. Something about him, the way he holds himself, tells me that he needs extra care, extra work. There’s a titanium shell around him that won’t be easily cracked. Just like me.

  He shuts the door behind him and steps forward, but that’s as far as he goes. He looks like he’s standing on uneven ground, shaky and off balance, or maybe it’s nervous and unseasoned. The same way I always feel around him.

  “You want to sit?” I ask, not understanding why I’m still feeling flushed.

  “Sit?” He looks at the bed and a sort of panic transforms his features.

  My heart picks up in speed, lifting with wings of awkwardness. “There’s a chair.” I point to the one by the window, keeping my eyes from his.

  Jaxen’s tense shoulders relax a little. “Okay,” he says, walking mechanically over to it. He sits and his hands grip the edges of the arm rests. His eyes settle on the intricate pattern woven into the comforter.

  “Are you okay? You seem tense,” I ask, setting the books Nathaniel brought me onto the bed. There are six and they’re each the size of a textbook. I hope Gavin doesn’t expect me to read all of these tonight. I may be a fast reader, but not that fast.

  “I’m good,” he says, checking out the room. “What’s that?” He’s pointing to my acceptance letter.

  “My acceptance letter to college.”

  His brows dip. “Why do you have that?”

  I glance down at my feet. “It’s a reminder to myself that I can be who I choose to be, that I can overcome obstacles.” When I look up, I see a hint of admiration and understanding in his eyes.

  “That’s…that’s a very interesting way to deal with things.” He’s still gripping the chair, like he’s preparing for takeoff. I don’t understand why he’s so nervous, unless he’s nervous to be around me. But why? I don’t want to get ahead of myself. I don’t want to think things that will only result in disappointment.

  But I also can’t avoid the way I catch him looking at me sometimes, like he’s doing right now, like I’m something on the other side of a window that he wants but can’t have.

  I clear my throat. “You have my parents’ things. How?” I ask, walking over to the desk as if in a dream. I run my fingers over the hilt of my father’s flux, watching as the blade lights up from my energy. I yank my hand back. It’s never done that before. The hollow spot in my chest throbs with guilt. My father should have his flux. He never leaves without it. “Why do you have these things?” I’m almost too scared to ask, but I have to know.

  “I thought you might want them,” he says. His grip on the chair loosens. “A team of Elite Watchmen were sent to your home to investigate. They’re looking for anything they can find that will hint at what happened to your parents. I caught wind of the assignment and dropped by today. I knew once they were in, your house would probably be closed off. If that happens, everything will be moved to Ethryeal City. These two things would be what I would have taken had it been my parents, so I just figured...”

  I’m shocked awake by his kindness, his thoughtfulness. I find his eyes across the room, and the argument disappears. The anger, the pride, it all falls away with just a blink of his eyes.

  My words somehow find their way over the lump in my throat, and I say, “But my dad, he should have taken his flux on their hunt. It shouldn’t have been in my house.”

  He drops his eyes, and his tone is dipped in sympathy. “Maybe he forgot? It was on the coffee table next to the Grimoire.”

  A knife of panic twists through my heart. It takes me a second to find my words, to absorb the fact that my parents might truly be gone. All the questions swarming my mind seek release, but they will have to wait for Mack. In Jaxen’s eyes, I see he doesn’t know any more than what he has offered. “Thank you...for grabbing these.”

  He nods and chews on his lip.

  I move to the Grimoire. The cover is made from thin sheets of bark. A pentagram is carved in a shallow groove and covered with copper wire. Aged moss fills the cracks and crevices. I pick it up, hugging it to my chest. My mother’s secrets. Her heritage. Our family’s lineage. “I never thought I would see this book again.” The guilt deepens and spreads to my limbs, filling them with lead. I want to put the book down, to pretend it’s not there, to deny everything, but I can’t. I won’t.

  “Because you thought you were Defected?” he asks intently. I turn at the sound of his voice, trying to make sense of the words he just said. It takes me a moment. A Defect. I was once, but now I am not. I was once a harmless caterpillar, but now I have changed into a poisonous butterfly.

  I nod so slowly that I’m not even sure he can tell. His deep, thoughtful eyes are studying me again with such intensity, it almost steals my breath. It does steal my breath, and my thoughts, and my will. He blinks, letting me breathe again. I set the Grimoire down on my bed, scared that I’ll drop it.

  I don’t understand why I feel like I know him so well, why I feel so connected and drawn to him. That’s a feeling for affinity bonds, not for someone like me. It’s been two weeks, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the attraction. I can’t shake the need to get to know him better. I drop my gaze. He has a Witch, and I have my mark of separation from anyone in this Coven. I shouldn’t be feeling this. I shouldn’t see what I feel reflected back in his gaze day after day.

  “I umm…” he leans forward and stands, then drags a heavy hand through the perfect mess of dark hair. “I should be going. I have to meet with Mack again about the Vamp in the forest.” He offers a sidelong glance, and then heads for the door.

  I don’t know why or what is compelling my feet forward, maybe stupid courage or brave curiosity, but I head off his steps. He stops right in front of me, his face so close I can smell the mint from his breath. Our chests synchronize in movement, rising and falling at a strangled pace. His eyes search mine, waiting patiently for me to make the move, testing me out, seeing if I have the guts he lacks.

  My heart beats so fast, I feel like I’ll lift off the ground at any moment. “Jaxen,” I hear myself say behind the pounding in my ears. His face softens at the mention of his name, eyes glazing with hunger. My hand rests on my throat. It feels so dry, so starved, just like my lips. “I don’t know what’s happening…between us, I mean, but I…”

  His eyes close for a moment, and when they open again, just for a brief second, I swear there’s resolution in his gaze. Maybe even relief. B
ut then something, some entity that chains him down, clouds the relief, turning it back into nothing more than a look, nothing more than a wasted moment.

  His hand raises up, preventing me from saying anything else. “Don’t,” he says, and that’s all he says. He turns for the door, leaving me standing with my heart open and ready. Leaving it to shrivel back into the mess it once was.

  Katie appears on the other side of the door, nearly running into Jaxen. She says she’s sorry as she steadies herself, and then looks up at him, her smile slowly changing from embarrassment to total awareness. She looks over his shoulder to me, and in the instant our eyes connect, I know she knows.

  “Well, hey there,” she says, giving her eyes time to prowl over him.

  He looks off to the side, down the hall, like he’s used to this kind of behavior from the opposite sex. I bite my lip to cover my smile, grateful for her. Leave it to Katie.

  When she looks back at me, her mouth is practically hanging open. “Good god, Faye, he’s a hunk. I’d girlfriend him so hard.” She nudges me with her hip and turns to smile at him.

  “Shut up!” I mumble, my face heating to an uncomfortable level. I drop my eyes the moment his head jerks in my direction, and tuck my hair behind my ear. “He’s definitely not my boyfriend,” I add, my voice barely audible.

  “He’s no one’s boyfriend. Never will be,” Jezi claims as she strolls through the doorway. Her eyes are on Jaxen, full of bitter regret. I wonder if it’s because of their bond, or something deeper. I think it’s something deeper because of the way she said it, like she’s been shafted or wronged somehow.

  “Nice room,” she remarks, eyeing it over. “Novices usually stay in dorms.”

  “She’s not just a novice,” Jaxen says, his tone indifferent.

  “Right.” She turns to Katie, her hand already on her hip. “Look, it’s sweet that you care about your friend and all, but you really need to run along now. We have grown-up things to deal with.”

  “Excuse me?” Katie says, swinging her head in Jezi’s direction. Her hand flies into the air, swatting circles in time with her words. “I’ll leave when Faye, my best friend, asks me to leave.” She looks over her shoulder and winks.

  Jezi snickers under her breath. “This isn’t high school. I can report you for not listening to your elders. I’m a Watchman. You’re a novice. Do the math.” Her full lips are naturally pushed out with attitude, and her hip sticks out.

  The look of death marks Katie’s face. She turns just enough to glare at Jezi. “Lady, I don’t know who you think you’re…”

  Unfazed by Katie, Jezi sucks her teeth and then flings an eye roll in Jaxen’s direction. “Are you going to back me up? We have things to talk about if I’m to continue training her. It’s time she finds out.”

  Finds out?

  “Oh, hell no,” Katie says to me. I feel caught between a rock and a hard place.

  Jaxen’s eyes remain on me. I chew on my bottom lip, worried that he’ll agree to it. Worried about what I’ll do if they try to make her leave the room. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her.

  An eternity passes before he gives his command. “No,” he says decidedly, a flitter of understanding showing through his steely eyes. “She’s been training hard the past couple of weeks. She deserves a moment alone.” He’s still unmoving, still hard-pressed, but there’s a subtle shift in his aura.

  Jezi mutters something under her breath that sounds a lot like a word that describes his lack of intelligence. A sneer curls her full lips, twisting her face into an unfeminine, heinous expression. She struggles with what she chooses to say next. It’s clear in the way her mouth writhes and trembles. “Fine,” she finally says. She leaves my room without another word.

  I look over at Jaxen. He’s already heading after her. “She can be impossible sometimes. Sorry,” he says, dropping his gaze. “See you in the morning.” The door clicks shut behind him.

  Katie whips around, pulling me to face her. It takes a moment for me to tear my gaze from the door and pry my thoughts off of Jaxen. She pulls me over to the bed and plops down, pulling her shoes off. “You have got some major explaining to do,” she says after throwing the last shoe across the room.

  My Grimoire sits on the other side of me, just waiting to be invaded. I glance down and my fingers drift toward it, needing to touch it. “This was my mom’s,” I say, my voice low, my thoughts distant.

  She leans back onto her elbow and props her head up, her auburn hair spilling down and blanketing her arm. Her entire demeanor changes, stiffens, when she realizes what I’m talking about. “Her Grimoire? How did you get that?”

  I bite my lip. “Jaxen. He got this and my dad’s flux. They’re boarding up my home.” My insides are weak and shaky, and I don’t think they can take much more. I want to expel my sadness. I want to scream out my anger. I want to cry away the guilt and the pain for staying in such a nice room when my parents are nowhere to be found.

  But I don’t do any of those things, because it would shame my father and myself, because I have to be strong.

  She sighs and puts her face in her hands. “My mom still hasn’t let me see her Grimoire. She knows I need it to make it through, and she still hasn’t given it to me, not even after the party when all the other novice Witches were given theirs.”

  I look over at her and my problems dissolve a little, mixing in with hers. She’s going through things too and I have to remember that. I have to be there for her just as much as she’s there for me. “She’ll come around, Kat,” I say encouragingly. “You know that. She likes making things difficult. She likes testing you.”

  Katie snorts and rolls to her back. “You got that right. She wouldn’t let go of the fact that Chett never showed to meet her at Samhain. It was so embarrassing. She found his mother and practically reamed her out. My dad had to step in between them and smooth things over. Like always.” She quiets, and her eyes drop to her fingers she’s nervously tugging at. “I…I think his family is Witch-haters.”

  “No, Kat…”

  She cuts her gaze to mine, her voice dropping a notch. “I’m serious. His dad wasn’t there. He’s the Witch. Can you believe it? I haven’t seen a male Witch in years.”

  “Or a female Hunter,” I say, and then point to myself.

  “Right. But seriously, his mom was all in my mom’s face, saying I wasn’t good enough for Chett, that no Witch would be.” I can hear the emotion swelling in her voice. I know how much she was looking forward to meeting her partner. She drops her arms to her sides and then sits up, blowing out all of her angst.

  “It’ll be okay,” I ease, “Maybe he just needs to be away from her to get rid of her awful attitude.”

  She shrugs, her eyes growing vacant. “I see him every day, and never once does he wave or say hi. We train together when we have to, which is about three times a week, but other than that, I don’t see him. We don’t talk. We barely get along. He’s angry most of the time. Rumors are spreading that he can’t stand the sight of me, and I have no control over them. I can’t stop the laughing stock I’m becoming. No matter how hard I try, nothing is working.”

  I pull her into a hug. “Do you want me to do anything?”

  She sighs against me. “No. If you stepped in, then I would for sure be the laughing stock. This Academy doesn’t function like human school. We have to be able to work through our personal issues on our own. If you said anything, I would look weak. I don’t need that added to the rumors.”

  I hug her tighter. “Give it time.” It’s the only advice for this type of situation. “You could never be a laughing stock. You’ll charm everyone here just like you did in grade school. The first month is always hard. Everyone is adjusting.”

  “I guess we’ll find out. You umm...you brought your acceptance letter?” she asks from over my shoulder, shifting the subject back onto me.

  “Yeah, I wanted to remind myself I have a choice, and that I made the right one.”

  She sque
ezes and then sits back up, smiling at me with a little bit of sympathy. “You’re where you should be. I know it.” She pauses, and then asks, “So, not to change subjects again, but...I’ve noticed you’ve been in the Witches Quarters, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I say, “how were the rumors today?”

  She shrugs. “There are only twenty-six of us in my graduating class, so it’s not like there’s a whole lot being said, unless you count the second, third, and fourth year novices. That I can’t answer. We aren’t allowed to talk to them until after we pass our first quarter trial. But what I have heard is that they don’t understand why a dormant is being escorted by Watchmen all the time. Why are they escorting you?”

  I tell her every last detail leading up to this moment, even of Jaxen barging into my room and yanking my sheet off and of the Vamp in the forest. Even as I say the words, I can hardly believe them. It sounds like a made up story, like a nightmare, but it’s not. It’s real and it’s become my life. “If the first two weeks has proved to be this difficult, how am I supposed to survive the rest?” I finally say.

  She shrugs uncomfortably and rests her hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. “I don’t know, but I’m here and I’ll help you figure it out, even if I have to sneak out.” Her tone is so gentle, like a mother’s caress.

  I wrap my arms around her and pull her into a hug, feeling the familiar lump growing in my throat. Sharing the weight of everything with her, knowing that she feels what I feel, makes me feel lighter, better, more confident that I’ll find a way through this, more confident that I’ll survive.

  “We’ll work it out.” She pulls me into her shoulder. “We always do.”