Everlasting

by Candace Knoebel

  He pulls me closer against him and settles into the bed. Why did he stop? I can’t understand it. My skin is crawling with lust and want, wanting him to explore, wanting to be explored. I want to drift into the unknown with him. I want to lose myself without thinking first. I want everything I’ve never had.

  I roll in his arms, our noses grazing each other in the dark. My hands find his face, and my fingers trace the perfectly carved contour of his cheekbone and jawline. “I won’t let you die,” I say.

  His fingers find my face and make their way around, tracing down the slope of my nose and stopping over my lips. “And I won’t let you die either.” He kisses me softly, tenderly, his hands making their way into my hair. They slide down to cup my face, holding me in place and keeping me from falling off the edge of the earth. I’m a galaxy of expired stars exploding beneath his kiss.

  He slows the kiss to a stop and pulls me closer, wrapping me inside his arms. “I don’t know how I managed to deserve you.” Although I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything, there’s something about him just wanting to be close to me, to hold me close so he can sleep, that stitches wings to my heart. It was only a matter of time until he set it free.

  WHEN I WAKE THE NEXT morning, the night before flashes in my mind like the edges of a dream, but when I roll over, I find bright green eyes like the lushest grass I’ve ever seen, and I want to lay in them and bask in the sun. He blinks once, twice, and then offers me a smoldering smile I want to kiss into my soul.

  “Good morning,” he says, pulling his head back a little.

  I smile at him. “Hang on.” I roll out of bed and nearly trip over Midnight who’s curled up on the floor. Jaxen chuckles, and I shut the bathroom door behind me, pressing the back of my head against it. He’s still in my bed. He’s still in my bed and he’s so deliciously tempting. I rush over to the sink and squeeze toothpaste onto my toothbrush and get to brushing. I can’t kiss him with morning breath.

  I straighten my hair out as best as I can without looking like I tried to fix it, and then open the door. He’s standing at the foot of my bed, sliding his shirt on. My mouth goes dry as the last of the fabric covers his ripped stomach. He looks up at me and crosses the room, wrapping his arm around the small of my back.

  I open my mouth to speak, but he locks the words in my throat when he presses his lips against mine. My back meets the wall, and his hand finds my leg. He lifts me up, wrapping me around him and pinning me between him and the wall. I’m a mess of scattered kisses and soft moans. My fingers delve through his hair, and his fingers grip my back.

  He groans inside the kiss, and then deepens it with a soft flick of his tongue. I kiss him urgently, impatiently, tugging where I can reach at his shirt, wanting nothing in between us. He cups my bottom, and then carries me over to the bed. With a solid, full, deep kiss, he slowly lowers me to the bed, his intense gaze never leaving mine.

  Shudders of pleasure rush over my skin when our shirts are pulled off and our flesh meets for the first time. He lowers the rest of his weight against me and moves his lips past mine, down to my neck where he lingers, taking his time to kiss and explore. I want to cry out. I want to be closer. I need to be closer. I move against him, dragging my hands down the long muscled slope of his back, and smile as he shudders against me.

  His lips move further with every inch I trail, down to my collarbone and on past. I arch up against his body, wanting him to bridge the gap between his lips and my chest. He groans again when I do this, the sound throaty and full of want, sparking heat between my legs. Never in my life have I ever experienced this, and never in my life have I ever wanted it more.

  His lips hover just above my chest, and then his eyes flick up to mine, locking me in place. Slowly, his fingers tug at the strap of my bra, sliding it down inch by agonizing inch. I’m frozen. I’m under his spell where I want to stay forever. We’re both shuddering against each other, our breath uneven and loud.

  He reaches for the other strap. “Are you sure?”

  I blink. I don’t even have to think. I nod, too afraid to speak. I’m afraid that this moment will end. I’m afraid that my thoughts will take flight and stop me from making this decision, stop me from losing my virtue. He starts to pull the strap the rest of the way down when his phone goes off. His eyes close, dispelling the state of surrender I’m in.

  He clenches his jaw, kisses my lips passionately, and then rolls off of me, pulling the phone from his pocket. “Yeah?” He pauses. “Okay.” Another pause and an eye roll to the ceiling. “Yeah, we’ll be down in ten.” The phone clicks and he turns to me, looking me over in awe. “I’m sorry for that. The interruption, I mean. Not the…well…” I think he blushes.

  I pull my straps back up and sit up. “It’s okay,” I say, trying to keep from blushing, but my cheeks betray me.

  “Can I…?” He pauses and shifts on the bed to face me better. He takes my hands in his, stopping me from grabbing my shirt. “Can I ask you something? Something personal?”

  My blush deepens. “Yeah.”

  “Have you ever, you know…?”

  I smile. “Are you asking if I’ve had sex before, Jaxen Gramm?” I’m surprised by how easily the words slip out.

  He laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “I guess I am.”

  “No. You?”

  He looks up at me, and his eyes have gone serious again, penetrating to my soul. “No.”

  I hold my face in place even though, on the inside, a million questions fire up. How has someone as gorgeous as he never had sex before? How could someone with hands like his, hands that melt through my skin, never have touched a woman in that manner? How could someone with lips that sear away every doubt and fill me with life never have known a woman? Not to mention that he is partner to a woman in love with him, a beautiful woman. And he is older than me too. Four years older. It just doesn’t seem…

  His fingers are under my chin, pulling my focus back to him. “Faye, I’ve never allowed myself to be close to anyone. That stands for all aspects, physical, emotional, mental. It just didn’t seem right. But you…” He leans down and kisses me once and I relax into him. “You’re exactly what I want and need in my life. I only brought this up because I feel there are things we should talk about, know about, before we go any further.”

  “I know,” I say, feeling slightly ashamed that I wanted it to go further so early on. We have only just allowed ourselves to be open about our feelings, and we hardly know each other, at least, not in the ways that count. The pull of the affinity bond has taken over my control. I need to take it back.

  He caresses my face, running his fingers over my frown. “Not that I don’t want to, because believe me…” his eyes find my lips, “you’re something I’ll never get enough of, and you’re something I could never resist. I just want to respect you and respect us.”

  “Us?” One word has the power to vaporize my frown. I smile, leaning closer to his mouth.

  He grants me the kiss I seek and smiles back. “Yes, us. Together,” he says with finality. He leans back and clears his throat. He ruffles his hand through his hair, and then runs them along his thighs, pulling himself back from the edges of our shared insanity. “Umm…that was Weldon on the phone. He wants to meet us. He has something to tell us before Mack returns.” He stands up. “I think we should get going, or else we might never leave.” He looks at the bed and smiles. “I’ll be just outside.

  After I change into a fresh pair of clothes, I open the door. Midnight rushes out of the room and down the hall, disappearing out the front door as one of the Elders enters. I try to call after him, but it’s of no use. He’s gone.

  “Where do you think he’ll go?” I ask Jaxen as we walk to meet everyone outside the fight training room. I can’t keep my eyes from scanning for him.

  “I don’t know, but hopefully he stays warm,” he says distantly, looking out into the storm.

  The snow falls in an angry flurry, pushing against us as we make our way
to the gymnasium. I want to rush back into my room where the bed is waiting. I want to be in his arms, ignorant of all that’s happening around us.

  “Remind me why we’re out in this storm again? The whole school is shut down today,” I say. I know I should turn everything off to avoid the cold, but I can’t bring myself to. I want to feel the pain. I want to feel the way my skin warms under his touch. I want to feel.

  He digs his hand further into his pocket and pulls me closer with the other as our feet sink in the snow. “Because, Weldon has something he wants to tell us, something about yesterday,” Jaxen says, sounding amused, his head tilted away from the onslaught of snow. A charcoal gray beanie covers his head and ears. The collar of his leather jacket is kicked up, protecting his neck.

  When we get inside, not a soul is in sight. “Want to go through some drills?” Jaxen asks me, unlocking the weapon training room. I know I’m too exhausted, but I nod anyway. Every bit of training will only help me. He pulls out six daggers and hands three to me. “Throw it at the target. Best two out of three gets one favor from the other.”

  “Any favor?” I ask, my brow drawn up in his direction.

  A small smirk kicks up at the side of his mouth, waking a hibernating dimple. My heart leaps against my chest.

  “You should do that more often,” I say, eyes shielded below my lashes.

  He brushes against me, his smirk steadily growing into an easy smile. “Do what?” he asks, flipping the dagger in his hands. He’s already steadying himself, preparing to throw.

  I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear and follow his steps, looking back at the target. “Smile. You should smile more.” I aim, and then throw, the daggers landing exactly where I wanted them to- the center of the forehead, the heart, and the knee.

  He stares at the side of my face for a moment, lost in thought, and then readjusts his stance. By the time I look at him, he’s throwing his daggers, each aimed for the same spots. We walk over to the targets to retrieve the daggers.

  “It looks like my dagger to the heart is dead on,” I say, peering over at his, “and yours…not so much.” He’s staring at the dagger, his face screwed up. He scratches his head, looking back over to my dagger.

  “I’ve never not been dead on,” he says, sounding beyond baffled.

  “You’ve also never been in…” I stop myself, the heater in my cheeks turned on full blast. I quickly pull the daggers out of the target and head back over to the line taped onto the ground.

  He does the same, stopping next to me. I chew the inside of my lip, peering out the corner of my eye at him. I’m a twisted bundle of nerves, all waiting for his words, his touch, his love to untangle. I think I see his smirk resume out of the corner of my eye as he tosses the daggers in his hands again, and wonder what makes him smile now.

  I don’t ask though, and neither does he. We throw the daggers again, and walk back over. The dagger I threw to the forehead was barely off by a centimeter, but all of his were perfect, so now we are one-to-one. We walk back to the tape and turn back around to face the dummies. He’s still smiling, and I’m still mortified.

  The door opens behind us just as I adjust my stance, but I don’t turn. I want that favor. I put all of my focus into the dummy, aim, and then release. I already know without looking that I made my marks. I’m smiling now, the smile so bright it burns away the last bits of embarrassment. Gavin stands in between me and Jaxen, watching.

  “Going to throw, brother?” he taunts.

  Jaxen drops into his stance, and his smile fades into studied concentration. He aims, and then releases. The three of us make our way to the dummies.

  “Playing the old game of hit or miss?” Gavin asks, looking between us. I immediately look at Jaxen’s dummy and can’t hide the winning smile. His dagger’s off just a smidgen in the knee. Gavin leans in, inspecting the dummy. “You lost!?” He looks up at me. “You beat him?” He runs a hand through his hair. “Wow, she must’ve really gotten in your head.”

  Jaxen looks down to the ground. For a bone-chilling moment, I think he’s mad. I think he’s upset I won, but then a smile slips over his mouth, and he looks back up, his eyes landing on mine. “Good job. Looks like I owe you a favor,” he says holding his hand out. I hand him the daggers, contagiously smiling back at him.

  I swear Gavin’s jaw drops as he looks between us. “Wait…who are you, and what have you done with my brother?” he asks Jaxen, running his hands over him. “You look like him. You,” he leans in and sniffs, “you sure as hell smell like him, but you aren’t acting like him.” He pinches Jaxen’s cheeks. “Your face muscles, I didn’t know they had the capacity to lift. I didn’t know you physically knew how to smile. I didn’t…”

  “All right,” Jaxen says, laughing. He throws Gavin’s hands away from his face. “I get it.”

  Gavin looks over at me. “Whatever magic you have, I want some. I haven’t been able to make this kid smile since before…well…”

  “Before dad died and mom left,” Jaxen says seriously. He walks away, heading back to the weapon rack. Weldon walks in, and Jezi and Cassie follow behind him.

  “It suits him,” I say, looking to the floor again. I want to explode with happiness, but I keep it contained.

  “So why are we meeting in here?” Jezi asks Jaxen. Again she doesn’t look at me. I avoid the guilt I feel.

  “So we can use you as a dummy,” Gavin says sarcastically. He winks at me and my mouth twitches in response, wanting to smile.

  “Funny…not,” she says, huffing and crossing her arms. Cassie looks at her, dragging in a long breath, and then eyes Gavin down. He shrugs dismissively.

  “I asked you all here because I think you should know that my brother held something back,” Weldon says, “the thing he’s forbidden to speak of. I put it together after we left, after I had time to stew on everything that was said.” He peers around cautiously, as if he had spent the entire night debating that speech.

  “What are you talking about?” Jaxen asks, stirring out of his catacomb of thoughts.

  “There’s this machine that Mourdyn created during his reign as the Darkyn Leader, and it has the ability to suck the power from anything hooked up to it. The Exanimator. It’s what the Darkyn Coven uses when a new Witch is initiated. It’s how those Witches have so much power.”

  “That’s a myth,” Jaxen says, disbelief marring his face.

  Weldon flaunts a presumptuous look. “Just like the Everlasting, right?” He waits, watching Jaxen’s face change from hard-pressed to slack. “I’ve seen it myself. How do you think I became this?” He gestures to his body. “I was hooked up to that damn machine, and they damn near drained me. I fought hard against it and managed to escape, thanks to Claire, but the effects of what they had done, because I was a Hunter, turned me into this.” His eyes change back to shining gold, and his body morphs into something dark and demonic. “Into something hungry for blood,” he says, his voice dark and otherworldly. He shifts back to his human side.

  “I didn’t know,” Jaxen says somberly. “All this time, and you never told me.”

  A hot sting of pain fills my heart. Sadness lingers in his golden eyes. He lost his Witch because she had sacrificed herself.

  Weldon snorts bitterly. “Well, it’s not something you go around promoting, now is it? I learned a lot during my time in the Underground, including how to get in and out and about the machine’s true purpose, which is holding enough power to wake Mourdyn. The High Priesthood made me swear to secrecy.”

  “So what does that machine have to do with her?” Jaxen asks, shifting the subject onto me to spare his friend the hurt clear in his eyes.

  “Everything,” Weldon answers plainly. “When my brother informs the High Priesthood and Coven Leaders of the Darkyn Coven’s demand, it will only be the beginning. Once they learn of the Dagger half she possesses, they will surely use her if they can get to her first because the Dagger is a tool to unlock the Holy and Unholy seal. When they’re unlocked, th
e Veil will drop and the doorway to the Underground will open, clearing a path for our Coven. Securing the Exanimator is their chance at destroying the threat against us and preventing Mourdyn from being woken. They won’t pass this chance up and, in doing so, might just let out every foul thing held down there.”

  My stomach stirs in discomfort. “What if I don’t want to do that?” I ask, fearing the answer he will surely give.

  “In this world, there is nowhere to hide. There will always be someone in the shadows, waiting to take you to either side. You’ll either take that machine and destroy it, or you’ll become a part of it when the Darkyns suck your magic from you and use it to wake Mourdyn. You need to decide which side you’re on. When you do, be sure it’s a decision you can live with.”

  I just stare at him, unable to look away, unable to do anything for that matter. Jaxen’s hand rests on my back, coaxing me to look at him, but I can’t move. I’m in a catatonic state, my mind finally having reached its limit on absorbing what is my shitty reality for the day. I close my eyes, feeling so close, yet so far from my parents.

  “This just became a whole lot more complicated,” I say, rubbing my temples as if it will dull the pounding behind my eyes. It won’t. Nothing will, not now. There’s no turning back.

  “And that’s why we should reconsider before Mack returns,” Jaxen says.

  “You can’t just go off of what he says,” Jezi says, flicking a hateful glare at Weldon. “His kind can’t be trusted.”

  “And just what ‘kind’ am I?” Weldon asks, his chest puffing out as he turns to Jezi.

  She pops her hip out and whips her dark hair over her shoulder when she turns to face him. “Oh, you know what I’m talking about. You’re not one of us. You don’t belong here, and we sure as hell should have never been put on this mission with you.”

  “Jezibelle,” Jaxen warns.