“And I’ll still mean it then,” he says, reaching for a shirt in his dresser.
I grab my clothes and head into the bathroom, smiling despite the fire clawing at my eyes.
The sooner I’m up and ready, the closer I’ll be to finding our way out of this hell.
MACK STANDS IN FRONT OF us with a white board on wheels perched next to him.
I’m two cups of coffee in and one yawn away from falling back asleep. Jaxen sits next to me, one hand holding a third cup of coffee, and the other resting naturally on the edge of my knee. Gavin and Cassie are behind us, whispering about something. Weldon stands with his backside resting against the kitchen counter, and Jezi sits in front of us, her head propped up on her elbow that rests on the table.
We all have one thing in common this morning, and that’s the lack of sleep marked under our eyes.
Seamus, Sterling, and Evangeline are on the other side of the table, all waiting patiently for Mack to begin the first of many meetings that will determine our Coven’s future. I try not to notice the dark, almost grayish-hue under Sterling’s eyes. Or the way his hands shake and his mouth twitches in jerky movements, like he’s struggling to stay still. Struggling to hold on to the last piece of himself that he’s fighting so hard to keep.
Weldon looks over at me, and then follows my gaze. He sighs sadly and, without saying anything, opens the fridge and pulls out a water bottle filled with what can only be blood. He makes an effort to move around the back of the table to keep the others from paying attention to what he’s doing and slides the bottle in Sterling’s hand as discreetly as he can.
Sterling looks up at him with gratitude in his eyes, and then greedily sips from the bottle.
I turn away, not wanting to stare, and force my eyes to remain on Mack. He grabs a blue marker, presses it to the white board, and writes:
1. Bring Clara down.
2. Bring down Darkyns by destroying Exanimator.
3. Restore our Coven to Divine’s natural order.
“These are our goals,” he says as he caps the marker and turns to face us all with the poised air of a diplomatic speaker. “And we will take them on one at a time, using each one to propel us onto the next.”
“And how do you propose that we do this?” Seamus asks from the rim of his coffee mug.
Mack’s lips thin into a prepared smile. “Clara’s working with the Darkyns, correct?”
“We suspect, yes,” Seamus says, setting his mug down. He lifts his chin, head tilted to the side and lips pursed. “But there hasn’t been any concrete evidence found. Just speculation, and unless we find something to pin her down and turn the rest of the Priesthood on her, we don’t have a leg to stand on.”
Mack’s smile transforms into something somewhat painful. “Clara was my partner,” he reminds us. “I know her. I know how she thinks, and I especially know how she lies. During my brief period of time working under her in Ethryeal City, I did some digging, and I found this.”
He pulls a microchip from the small pocket on his purple-and-gray argyle sweater vest.
“It’s plans to merge the Darkyns with our Coven.” He looks at me, his smile warming with knowledge. “That’s why she won’t kill anyone just for the sake of killing, Faye. Headlines are being made with every attack placed by the Darkyns. Unlike Watchmen, they’re sloppy, and humans are taking notice, which is something she can’t control. Especially without her magic. But what she can control is how she plays this game. She wants us. She wants those who pose a threat to her plans. Everyone else she needs to believe in her. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have a Coven to control, and if the humans discovered us, then she wouldn’t have the funds to live comfortably with either.”
“What’s on it?” Weldon asks, pointing to the microchip.
“Phases,” Mack says. “I haven’t been able to go through the whole thing yet. I figured we could do that while the others train, but what I’ve found thus far is a precise guideline to every phase she will implement into our Coven to get what she truly wants.”
“And that is?” I ask, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“She wants to do away with the Hunters,” he says, setting the chip down on the table.
Every face in the room pales. The coffee in my stomach swirls uncomfortably. Heat builds under my skin until I’m wishing I had worn something lighter. Kill the Hunters. Do away with them permanently.
“It’s one thing after the other,” Sterling says sadly.
“She’s crazy if she thinks she can run us into the ground,” Gavin says angrily.
“This is insane,” Seamus gasps. “You’re suggesting she wants mass genocide?”
“I’m not suggesting,” Mack replies, swallowing thickly, “I’m telling you.”
Silence deafens the room as thoughts scream loudly. The chairs have been ripped out from under us all. We knew she was cruel… knew she was stuck on herself and most likely working with the Darkyns, but it never clicked in my head that she’d go this far. That she’d want something this disturbing. This unthinkable.
This final.
“But she can’t do that,” Jezi says, blinking too fast. “If she destroys Hunters, then Witches would be without power. Why would she do that?”
Mack holds his finger up to stop her train of thought. “That’s a very valid point I’m about to explain.”
Weldon clears his throat, gathering his scattered thoughts as rapidly as he can. “Then that leaves us with one question,” he says with a murderous tone. His eyes are focused and his paled face shifts gears, morphing into anger and fury. “How do we bring the bitch down?”
Mack jumps right into his theories with a new fervor, standing straighter, taller. “We already have her at a standstill with the information on the Rebellion gone and Faye out of her grasp,” he says, almost excitedly. Like he’s been waiting for this moment. For this opportunity to finally bring us together and put an end to Clara. “She knows this, which is why she’s so desperate to reach for anything that will hurt Faye and trick her into turning herself in, because she can’t get her hands on the Exanimator without both the Holy and Unholy Seals being broken. Without Faye.”
Weldon tenses at the mention of the Exanimator. His face changes like night and day, going from the hope of warmth to the extremity of cold.
“Wait—Exanimator? What does that have to do with anything?” Gavin says.
“Everything,” Mack says. “It’s why we think she’s working with the Darkyns, so she can get to the machine.”
“Which is kept in the Underground, I might add,” Seamus says. “A place we cannot enter without destroying the Unholy Seal.”
“A place and a machine that one of us in this room knows all too well,” Mack says, his eyes pinned on Weldon.
“I’m confused,” Cassie says.
“Ditto,” Gavin adds.
Weldon stiffens, and my blood boils for him. Boiling for the way Mack so easily uses Weldon’s pain as if it’s a free-for-all. He inhales loudly, like he’s accepting this as his fate. Being used. Unable to hide from his past.
“I might have a solution to the Underground problem,” he says, his voice hollow and closed off, “but Clara is all you, Mack,” he says.
Something passes between them.
“I thought you might say that,” Mack says. “At least, I hoped you would.”
“What’s going on?” Jezi asks, reaching for Weldon’s hand. “What are you two talking about?”
We all look at Weldon. He closes his eyes. Grips the edges of the counter. “I spent nearly twenty years of my life in the Underground. Twenty years that felt more like centuries.” He looks up at us, demons dwelling in his eyes as he continues. “I’ve been in the Exanimator. Seen what it can do firsthand.” He lets go of the counter and stands tall, allowing his demon side to take over his charming features.
Shadows fill the room as Seamus and Evangeline gasp.
“This,” Weldon says, his voice darker, deeper. “This is wh
at the Exanimator does. It takes all that you are and twists it into something unnatural.”
He breathes in and, on his exhale, he returns to the Weldon we know.
“The machine sucks every bit of power out of a demon or a Witch and stores it until it’s ready to be dispersed. In my case, they picked a random demon, stole his powers, and then forced them on me by hooking me up to the machine and pumping the powers through my bloodstream.
“But that isn’t how Darkyns do it. It’s much worse. To be initiated, they must first pick the Witch they will sacrifice in the machine. The Witch they will steal powers from. Then they must force them into the machine and watch as their powers are taken and their bodies wither into ash. After that, they cut off their affinity marks, get hooked up to the machine like I was, and voila, they have magic again, only without the ties to an affinity bond.”
“And Clara thinks this machine will be able to separate affinity bonds safely so she can do away with Hunters?” Cassie asks in horror.
“Anything is possible,” Mack says coldly.
“How could such a machine come into existence?” Jezi asks, tears staining her voice as she grips Weldon’s hand.
“It has old magic operating it… Divine magic,” Weldon answers distantly.
“Mourdyn?” Jaxen asks.
Weldon nods. “A machine of this magnitude will not be easily destroyed.”
“Those in the Rebellion, including myself, have spent the past few years trying to find out more about the machine,” Mack says. “How exactly it works. What it runs off. How we could destroy it. But getting answers from Darkyns is nearly impossible. If they don’t kill themselves first, then they let us torture them during interrogation. Their minds are twisted.” He turns to Seamus. “Do you have any information?”
“No,” Seamus says. “Just what you know. Clara is the only one.”
“We need her information,” I say. “We need to know what she knows.”
“And how do we do that?” Mack asks. “We have little resources, and we’re all banned.”
I’m reaching for straws.
“Seamus. He can do it,” I say, turning to face him. “You have the access that we don’t. You know your way around. You can get in and out, and find what we need.”
Seamus looks uncomfortable. “And if I’m caught, I’ll be crucified.”
“It’s better than sitting idle like a coward and not contributing to bettering our people,” Jaxen says, arms folded.
“That is something we will discuss,” Mack interrupts. “It isn’t a decision to be made lightly, and it doesn’t have to be made today. Our first order of business is bringing Clara down, which is what we need to get back to. We need her if we want to infiltrate the Darkyns to get to the machine. I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I believe we can get to her by using this.”
He points to the microchip.
“We expose her plan, and then those loyal to the Divine will turn against her. If that happens, she’ll run, and we’ll find her. She’ll be wanted by all. Her reputation will be tarnished, and justice will be asked for by our own. To save herself, I believe she’ll give up the information on the Darkyns headquarters and the workings of the Exanimator, and from there, we’ll use Weldon’s knowledge of the Underground to find and destroy it.”
“Do you think everyone here is ready for this?” Seamus asks, shock on his features. “Do you think they’re ready for this kind of a revolution?”
Sterling stands, planting his hands flat against the table. “They’ve been training for this moment their entire lives,” he says with certainty. “They’re ready; they just don’t know it yet. As for those outside waiting on me, that’s what training will show them. It will give them confidence. Keep them busy with something to work toward while we get our shit together, because restlessness leads to awful things.”
“Then it’s settled,” Mack says. “I’ll have Jonathon send carriers to all the Rebellion members on the outside to prepare them for what’s to come. Seamus, we need you to think of a way to get more information on the Exanimator in the meantime, just in case Clara doesn’t pull through. As for me, after we’re done going through this microchip, I’m going to send it to a Rebellion member who’s planted on the Night Watchmen News team, asking him to broadcast it on every station.”
We all take deep breaths as we realize that this moment is so much bigger than anything we’ve ever known. This is change in the making.
This is justice finally taking the reins.
GENERAL STERLING DOESN’T WASTE TIME throwing us into extensive training.
When we disperse from the meeting, he already has wooden training fluxes laid out on the grass in two neat rows—one facing the other. He’s dressed in his full Elite uniform, the same one he wore the day he returned to us though, this time, the bloodstains have been removed and any tears have been patched up. He paces the length of the grass in front of us, looking like he hasn’t slept in ages. But I’m sure no amount of sleep could erase the dark circles under his eyes and the trademark pupil black that has taken over the color of his eyes.
“Are you sure he’s going to be able to handle training?” Cassie leans in and asks Gavin as the general starts calling out the lineup he wants us in.
Gavin looks back over his shoulder at Jaxen. “What do you think, bro? Do you think he’s even eaten?”
“Not from anything substantial,” Weldon answers from beside me, eying the general’s every simulated, strained move. We’re all looking at Weldon now, waiting for some form of clarification. “The bottle I gave him this morning was leftover blood from a bear I hunted the other night.”
“Ugh, gross!” Cassie says with a shudder.
“What?” Weldon says defensively, “I have to have backup blood in case I can’t find a human willing to donate.”
“TMI,” Gavin says, lips pinched in disgust.
“Whatever,” Weldon says with a passive hand wave.
“Anyway,” Jezi says, changing the subject for everyone, “I thought Sterling hunted last night with the wolves?”
Weldon looks flatly at her. Lifts a brow. “Look at the veins on his neck,” he says pointedly, “they’re darkening… a sure sign he’s drying up. And if I had one guess, I’d say it’s intentional.”
“Well, duh,” Cassie says as she flips her head over to put her hair up in a messy bun. “That’s what happens to wolves when they don’t feed.” She pauses with her hair and squeezes her eyes shut, her face screwed up. “Damn it. I keep doing that! Vamps. I meant to say vamps. Vamps need fresh, human blood in order to survive. Not refrigerated leftovers.”
Disgust and sorrow tastes a lot like bile.
I swallow thickly, pushing the regret clogging my throat down as far as I can and say, “We can’t let that happen to him.” I impulsively look past the general for his wife, curious to know just who she is and how she’s taking this. With everything that has happened lately… all the cracks in the foundation of our lives spreading further and further out, it’s been hard to keep up with the unfortunate shift in everyone’s future.
Because we’ve all been slapped with a hard dose of reality.
“What can we do about it, Faye?” Jezi asks. “He’s turned. Based on everything we’ve ever been taught, he should be long gone by now, feeding and killing like the rest of the vamps out there. It’s a miracle he’s even here.”
Weldon snorts. “I’m here,” he says curtly. “So, according to your logic, I should be stealing souls and killing for my mere entertainment, but you don’t see me doing that, do you?”
Jezi’s so stiff and still, I think the wind could blow her over.
“Still,” I say, trying to diffuse the miscommunication before it turns into another uncomfortable argument, “he has to feed. It’s obvious that what we thought we knew about our kind is far from the truth. Apparently, we can function after being turned. We have to keep him from making a fatal mistake because of his pride.”
“N
ot just pride, Faye,” Jaxen says from the other side of me. “His morals too. You have to think of his morals.”
“I am. This was done to him. He didn’t choose it,” I say.
“All I’m saying is… are you going to offer yourself then? ‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t,” Jezi says with arms crossed, looking directly at me. “He’s a grown man, and one of these days, you’re going to have to realize that you can’t fix every wounded bird you stumble on.”
I have to repeat what she said just to understand her. Heat builds under my skin.
“He’s not a wounded bird, Jezi! This is serious. Can’t you take one thing seriously in your life?” I shoot back.
She jerks her head back. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” I say, stepping up to her, ready for whatever comes next.
“Stop it. Both of you!” Jaxen says hotly, pushing us apart from each other.
I look up at him, surprised into silence. A million emotions churn within the endless depth of his green eyes. “This isn’t something you can turn into a bickerfest. This is real. This is Sterling… the man who taught us how to be more than just factory-assembled army pawns.”
“That’s what I was trying to say,” I say quietly, avoiding his eyes.
He drops his shoulders a little and apologizes with his gaze before turning back to face the general, who’s now heading our way.
But I’m still watching Jaxen. Watching the way he pieces himself back together, slowly, hardening his stance and his eyes so he doesn’t give anything away. So others don’t see the pain ripping him apart on the inside. Can’t hear the screams that are surely tearing at his brain. Jaxen was the one who wanted to leave Sterling there with Clara and, in the end, he’s the one who went back for him, only he was too late.
It’s a pill I’m not sure he’ll ever be able to swallow.
My hand is halfway to his when the general stops in front of us and clears his throat. I retract my hand, shoving it deep inside my pocket.
“I want you four to train with the others in the Rebellion,” the general says, skipping introductions and heading straight to business.
Everlost (The Night Watchmen Series Book 3) Page 24
