But even friendship can’t fix what’s broken inside of me.
The Hunter in me kicks into gear. If I can put all of this emotion, everything that’s threatening to break me down, into one successful hunt, then I know I’ll feel better. I’ll be back in control.
Around the side of a building, I sense a Vampire, most likely with a victim; an easy kill. I’m too far from Jezi to use my power. That’s the shitty disadvantage of being chained down by an affinity bond. We can’t use our powers unless we’re together. The choking, suffocating feeling always surfaces when miles are placed between us, but I tuck the feeling away, just like I tuck everything else away.
With a huff, I lean to the side and open the glove box. A stake rolls out. My hand wraps around the coarse wood. I shouldn’t try this alone. I shouldn’t risk it when I have no powers and could be spotted, or possibly worse…killed. But the rage inside of me won’t let up. It seeks release, and that only ever comes in the form of ending the very same thing that makes me what I am.
I hop out, holding the stake by my side, and make my way toward the side of the building. I can’t shield myself from the Vampire, not without my volation, so if it isn’t feeding, then it will be able to detect me. I crouch behind a car and take small steps around the side so I can get a better picture. The Vamp is a female. She has a man pressed up against the wall with her fangs sunk deep into his neck. He doesn’t look the least bit scared. She’s either compelled him, or he’s a Feeder.
Either way, she’s going to die.
I shut my eyes and take in a deep breath. I rush the rest of the way across the parking lot, trying to be as quiet as possible, with my stake raised and ready. I’m about to strike when the man’s eyes flash open. The Vampiress spins around and lunges for me, her claws and fangs bared. I jump back to the side and aim the stake, but the man grabs me by the arm, trying to stop me. I struggle with him and manage to shove him off, but I drop the stake when the Vampiress latches onto my shoulders, digging her claws deep into my flesh. Poison enters my system, slowing my thought process. She spins me around with the intention of biting me. I know this because it’s what they all do. They can’t help it. They have to taste everything.
I pull my flux out and stab just as she leans toward my neck. She screams out in anger, and I rush for the stake on the ground, but the man has already picked it up. He’s standing against the wall with it, eyes wide in fear, hands shaking uncontrollably.
“What the hell, man!” I shout. “Give me the damn thing. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“But you want to hurt her,” he says, his eyes flashing briefly towards the Vampiress.
I exhale loudly, rolling my eyes to the sky. “Duh. She’s a freaking Vamp.”
“She’s more than that!” he shouts, the veins in his neck bulging.
The metal clang of my flux hitting the ground sounds behind me. She’s advancing on me. This shit would’ve been over already had I been in power. I can’t hurt the human, but I need my stake. I groan and lunge for him. He cringes against the wall. I slam into him, grabbing my stake, and spin just in time to sink it deep into the Vampiress’ heart. She bursts into purple flames and disappears into ash, carried off by the night breeze.
When I turn back, the man huddles on the ground covering his head. “Get up,” I say firmly, disgustedly. The man stands, his entire body shaking now. He has so much Vampiric venom in his system he can’t think straight.
“Hey!” a familiar voice calls out behind me. I turn. It’s Russell Middleton. “That was our kill,” he points out, though there isn’t the slightest bit of threat in his tone. Mary walks up behind him, both of them blending in with the shadows.
“Need me to spell him?” Mary asks, brushing her light brown hair over her shoulder. I nod. She walks past me with a kind smile and works her magic.
Russell follows me as I walk back toward my truck. “What are you doing out here without your Witch? And in my area, no less,” he asks, gripping my shoulder. He’s my height with sandy blonde hair and hazel-colored eyes.
“Looking for a hunt,” I admit. “It’s been a very long night. I thought it would take my mind off things.”
“I can understand that,” he says with a chuckle. “You okay?”
I nod, looking into the dark window of the bar.
“If you ever need to talk, you can always come to us. I have a daughter near your age. I may not be completely hip, but I do know some things. It doesn’t always have to be about Watchmen business.”
I glance over at him and offer what I think is a convincing smile. I can’t tell because the way he smiles back is somewhat sad, like he sees through it all, like he sees every broken part of me.
“Thanks,” I say, “but I should probably get going.”
He nods and lets my shoulder go.
THE NEXT MORNING, I WAKE to the vibration of my phone in my pocket. I pull it out and open one eye to peek at it. It’s Gavin. I groan and let it go to voicemail. It rings again and again and again, and I know if I don’t answer, then he will show up here, and the last thing I want is to see him.
“What?”
“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” he croons into the phone.
A chisel grinds against the back of my head. “What?” I ask again, this time more desperately.
“Have a rough night at the bar? Russell called. He filled me in on your cahoots with the Vamp. What the hell were you thinking?”
“Look, I appreciate the brotherly concern, but I’m not in the mood for a lecture. I’ll talk to you-”
“Mack called. Are you in the mood for that?” he asks, knowing he has my attention now. I can almost see the smile spreading across his face. “We have a new assignment tonight.”
“And?” I ask as my heart slows.
“And he said you need to meet him in his office. He’s going to explain it to you.”
“If this is about the damn Witch, you can-”
The phone goes dead. He hung up on me. I grip it, ready to throw it across the room, but stop myself. Instead, I slam my hand against my bed, dropping the damn phone. He’s such an…such an assmonkey. All of them. They’re all assmonkeys.
After showering and downing a bottle of water and two aspirins, a knock sounds at my door. My skin itches with the power it had missed. Jezi’s here. “Come in,” I shout across the room.
She doesn’t waste a second. “Gavin said we have to meet with Mack.”
“Don’t act like you don’t already know what it’s about,” I say as I finish drying my hair with the towel and toss it across the room into my hamper. I reach for the black shirt laid out on my bed and pull it over my head.
“I don’t, honestly.”
I grab my boots by the end of my bed and sit to slide them on. She stands in front of me, smelling of magic and perfume. When I tie the last lace, I look up at her. Her chocolate hair is pulled back in a tight, high ponytail. She looks fierce, like she always does. A small bit of attraction stirs somewhere deep inside of me, but I push it far away.
“It doesn’t matter either way,” I say quickly. “With Mack involved, it’s out of our hands.”
“I won’t agree to it if you don’t want me to.” The sincerity in her eyes twists a knot in my stomach. I inhale deeply and look away from her. Feeling like a jerk is a constant when it comes to Jezi. She tries so hard and, at some point, I need to bend.
I take a small breath and say, “No, it’s fine.” I don’t know why, but a sudden, irresistible urge comes over me and I reach for her hand. She almost jumps when I touch her, and it makes me feel ten times worse.
I can be her friend without running the risk of cursing her, right?
She peers down at my hand, and the hope that stirs in her eyes brings a light feeling to my chest, something that has never happened before. Slowly, she sits next to me, still clutching to my hand. Her eyes search mine, somehow deepening in color. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to be upset with me.” Her voice is like a soft cares
s.
I nod. I find myself wanting to be closer to her…wanting to…to touch her, and I don’t know why. I don’t know where this urge is coming from. My brain feels like a rattled mess.
I can touch her without cursing her, right?
I lift my hand, and her eyes close. She wants my touch, wants the small bit of affection I have denied her for so long. I rest my hand against her cheek, and she softly leans into it. Her skin is so warm, so soft. Desire stirs deep inside me. Thoughts I’ve never had of her before move around my mind. Visions I know can’t be my own flitter behind my lids.
I yank my hand away and stand up. No.
“Jaxen, it’s okay. I want this. Just let me show you. Let me guide you.” She’s scooting closer to me, intoxicating me with her magic and her scent and her words.
“But I don’t want this,” I rush out. I immediately regret saying it when she flinches. “No, I don’t mean it like that,” I say, backpedaling, “I just mean, we can’t. It would lead to-”
“To something I want,” she says too desperately. She stands, meeting my gaze, and grabs the back of my head. Before I can stop her, her lips close on mine. My immediate instinct is to push her off, but she’s using magic to hold me close; to match my strength. She’s using magic to manipulate me.
Her soft lips slide over mine, and the lust locked away inside of me roars to life. She slides her tongue in my mouth, and all I can think about is exploring her body. Every inch. It’s mine for the taking.
“So take it,” she whispers in my mind.
My hands formed into fists at her sides, slowly open to grip her small waist. I can’t think straight. She pushes herself against me, building the heat between us. Her teeth knick my bottom lip as her hand slides into my hair and tugs hard.
The sharp, sudden pain jerks me back to the present. I need to get a grip. This isn’t right. Something isn’t right. Sex is more than a lay to me. She is more than a lay, and what’s between us doesn’t feel whole. It doesn’t feel completely right.
With a push of volation, I break the spell and step back, putting as much distance as I can between us. Her face is flushed, and her lips are swollen. I dab at my bottom lip, tasting blood. Everything becomes clear in that moment.
“Out of all the years that I've known you, never once have you stooped this low. This is beneath you.”
Fury flits across her face. “I had to try,” she says lowly, her chest rising and falling as unevenly as mine. “It was only a small spell, just to open you up a little. You can’t deny how right that felt, Jaxen Gramm. You know you want this…me…you want me.”
“Jezi, just stop for a second-”
“NO!” she shouts, stomping her foot. “I’m done with thinking before I act. You’re my Hunter. MY Hunter,” she points to her chest, “and I’ll be damned if I’m going to go my whole life with never having the connection with you that I was born to have. Shutting me out isn’t going to change our fate. One of us will die no matter what, so why push everyone away? Why not enjoy the people who love you like Gavin does?”
I clench my eyes shut. Every word that passes my lips feels like a confession I’m forced to speak; a truth I’ve tried so hard to cover up. “Because in the end, it will hurt less this way. You don't want to hear that truth. Not really.” I take a deep breath, and push down the words that want to surface...the words that would surely crush her spirit. “I won’t risk your life. That’s all there is to it.” I walk past her and over to the door. “And don’t ever use your magic on me like that again.”
She storms past me and down the hall to the elevator without a word. Waves of anger roll off her. I don’t want to hurt her, but I also won’t lead her on. We’ll never be an item. The sooner she comes to terms with it, the better.
ARRIVING BACK AT THE ACADEMY stirs a bunch of memories better left locked away. Although I had enjoyed every minute of what I had learned, I never enjoyed the social politics. Most of the Hunters in my class had an issue with the fact that Jezi and I won every trial and passed every test with flying colors, and that I hadn’t laid claim on her. What they failed to realize was that removing love from the picture allowed us to focus on our powers. It gave us the freedom needed to grow as individuals, but even with knowing that, I also know that if Jezi had the chance, we would have been cuddled up like every other affinity bond was.
The stares from the novices weigh on me as we pass through the courtyard. The old clock tower gongs in the distance, carrying the deep sound of the mid-day hour. Whispers drift along the breeze as eyes prey over us. I’m numb to it; numb to the curious inquisitions. I know my reputation. I know the tales woven around the last name I’m cursed to bear.
“God, I know it’s only been six months since we graduated, but it feels like just yesterday,” Jezi says when she leans into me and loops her arm through mine. For a moment, I’m taken back to the days when I was a novice, back to switching classes and walking Jezi around. It was the least I could do to control the rumors of our unorthodox relationship.
I try to relax my tensed shoulders and force myself not to pull away from her. “Yeah,” I mutter. “Six months have gone by fast.”
“What do you think they’re whispering about?” Her eyes scan over the many novices spread out along the plush grass of the courtyard eating lunch.
I shrug. “Who knows?”
She looks up at me and smiles. I sense her mind opening up, listening to all the projected whispers. Witches have a keen sense of hearing other Witches’ thoughts if the Witches aren’t protecting their minds. She giggles a little.
“What?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.
“Well, aside from you being the hottest Night Watchman to walk through this courtyard, they’re talking about our last trial.”
Of course they are.
She nudges me again. “Can’t blame them. We are pretty kickass. I mean, who tackles a Banshee and saves a Priest in the High Priesthood all in one fell swoop? Everyone always goes for Vampires. Easy kills.”
I give in and look over at her. “That’s because they don’t want to screw up. Can’t blame them for that. And we got lucky with the Priest. We didn’t know who’s death the Banshee was about to induce.”
Flashes of the hunt from the night of our last trial surface. We were able to pick our own hunt. We were given the tools to research and the weapons to fight. All we had to do was have a successful hunt; kill one paranormal, but Jezi and I wanted to go out with a bang. We wanted to do something memorable and showcase what it truly meant to be a Watchman. It’s not the killing that makes us who we are, it’s the lives we save in doing so.
So we tailed a crazed Banshee that Jezi found through a specific tracking spell and ended up stopping her before she could prompt the untimely death of a Priest. Banshees always go for the ones with notability. The more reputable, the longer they’re able to live. It’s how Banshees survive…feeding off souls. We brought her body back to the Academy and offered it to the professor who teaches tailoring, so they could use her cloak to make phantom cloth. The Priest we saved was the oldest on the High Priesthood. He granted us one favor, should we ever find ourselves in trouble.
I told him it wasn’t necessary.
Jezi smiles as we pass the novices, enjoying every single minute of the fame. A part of me is put off by it, but the other part knows she deserves it. She’s worked just as hard. She’s struggled just as much.
We enter the old limestone building through the breezeway and pass through the iron-framed wooden doors. Jezi stops and inhales before throwing a warm smile over her shoulder at me.
“I could never get sick of the scent of old wood and fresh paper.”
I try to offer her a smile, but my lips won’t budge. They’re cemented with isolation. We pass the lavish couches and head up the open stairs to Mack’s office on the second floor. Voices are raised on the other side of the door, echoing down the halls.
“It’s already done, Clara,” Mack says loudly. “I’v
e made my decision.”
“Without my consent!” Clara returns heatedly.
“I can’t help that you were away campaigning. You did that without my consent. You decided to abandon me for a title. You expect me to sit back and heel?”
“I expect you to respect me. I’m doing this for us…for my sister. If you give consent, this could ruin my campaign. It will make me seem untrustworthy.”
He laughs, the sound choked with bitterness. “Of course that’s all you’d worry about. Not that I could lose my position as an Elder, or one of those I care about could die.” There’s a moment of silence, as if they’re both taking a breath. “You don’t know the first thing about regret. About pain. About suffering. You’ve made your decisions, and I’ve made mine. This mission is important. Weldon is right. I will not argue about it.” Footsteps carry toward the door.
“Are they talking about the mission?” Jezi asks.
“I hope not.”
“Because you’re so guilt ridden,” Clara calls out. The footsteps pause. “I get it, Mack. My sister, your brother, they both paid the price for your life. But this mission? You know what this could mean…what can of worms you’re about to open. When are you going to stop blaming yourself for my sister’s sacrifice? When are you going to stop putting your life on the line for a ghost?” Clara says angrily.
“The day that Claire is returned.”
I look over at Jezi. Her eyes are raised. “Should we knock?”
I shrug.
She lifts her hand and knocks once. Feet shuffle, and then the door swings open. Mack looks tired standing on the other side of the door. His eyes are heavy with guilt and disappointment. He straightens out his vest and runs a hand through his hair. Clara takes a seat on the couch and pours herself a cup of tea.
“Come in,” he says with a forced smile. We walk past him and sit on the couch, pretending not to have heard their argument, but the tension is too thick to ignore.
Mack clears his throat, the noise cutting straight through the tension. “As you may have guessed, I’ve spoken with my brother about your certain predicament.”
The Gramm Curse (The Night Watchmen Series) Page 6
