Captivate (Unearthly Balance Book 1)

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Captivate (Unearthly Balance Book 1) Page 4

by Jessica Sorensen


  Relief washes over him. Then he immediately stiffens. “You can’t do anything to break the curse.”

  My brows pull together. “Okay … Huh?”

  He gives a long pause. “A Balance has to remove it for you.”

  My elation goes splat. “You mean, Everly?”

  “It doesn’t have to be her,” he clarifies. “It can be another despair Balance. Although, there aren’t too many of them left in the world.”

  I press my lips together as I think about why that is; how perhaps having to deal with all that despair is why there aren’t a lot left.

  “How can Everly break the curse? I’ve been near her for three years and nothing’s happened.”

  He rubs his hand across his forehead, looking stressed out. “You can’t force her to do it, and it doesn’t just happen. She has to choose to siphon the despair out of you.”

  I swallow the lump wedged in my throat. “What happens to her after she does it?”

  “Then she goes back to her normal life, I guess.” He shrugs. “I really don’t know. Eirene never explained that part, and I didn’t think to ask.”

  I eye him over, wondering if he’s lying. Evan has always been a pretty good liar, so it’s hard to tell.

  “I need to know before I decide,” I tell him. “I won’t do anything that’ll hurt Everly. She’s too good of a person, and she’s been through too much shit in her life already.”

  He elevates his brows in speculation. “Even if it means your entire family will suffer? You’d let them suffer to protect a girl you hardly know?”

  His words ram into my chest and threaten to steal what’s left of my depressing soul. My family’s suffering was the main reason I chose to rebel against the gods the first time around. And if Evan is telling the truth about the After Kingdom, if things have really gotten that bad, then … either my family suffers, or I might have to possibly hurt Everly, an innocent in all of this.

  Shit. Fuck. Shit. Goddammit! I fucking hate this!

  “I don’t know.” I turn away from him, crouching down and resting my elbows on my knees. “I need time to think about it.”

  “That’s fine.” His tone is clipped. “Just remember, the longer you think, the longer your family suffers.”

  “I understand that,” I grit out. “I’ve spent the last few centuries only thinking and feeling how much everyone is suffering back home.”

  “Good. Then you understand how important it is to make this happen.”

  “Of course I do. But even if I decide to do this, it doesn’t mean I can get Everly to help me. She doesn’t even know what she is.”

  “Well, you’ll have to convince her, then. You used to be good at that sort of thing—convincing women to do whatever you want.”

  “Things have changed down there …” I rake my fingers through my hair, letting out a stressed breath. “Human women seem more afraid of me than drawn to me.”

  “Good thing Everly isn’t human,” he stresses. “While you’re making your decision, you should try to get her to warm up to you. Maybe teach her about what she is.”

  I frown. “You really don’t know humans very well, do you? They don’t accept the unfamiliar easily.”

  “Again I stress, it’s a good thing Everly isn’t human.”

  Yeah, he may think it’s that easy, but I don’t believe for a second that Everly will just accept the truth about what I am or what she is.

  “In the meantime,” Evan continues, “I’ll ask Eirene what happens to the Balances after they extract the curse from an Unearthly. It might take a while to get back to you since the gods are watching, but I will find out. You have my word.”

  “You do that.” I fight against the despair seizing control over my mind and soul. “You forgot one other problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If I decide to do this, how am I supposed to even talk to Everly when the gods are watching my every move?”

  “I’ll let you borrow some of my magic so you can put a shield up for longer. You’ll have to move fast and use it sparingly,” he explains over the growing cries of the Banished. “If you use my magic for too long, the gods will sense something’s wrong, and they can’t find out about this plan. Not until we have a big enough army.”

  “Army?” I rise to my feet and turn to face him. “And where is this army coming from? When I rebelled against the gods, I was lucky to get even seven servants to fight with me.”

  He stares off at the land behind me, seemingly lost in a painful memory. “Things are different now … With the new laws, more of us are growing desperate for a change.” He blinks and returns his attention back to me. “But without you and the other Unearthlies, we don’t stand a chance. You were the best and most powerful of our kind, and you’ve been through a war with the gods before.”

  “Yeah, and look how that turned out,” I feel the need to point out; feel the need to stress to him how dangerous this is. “We failed.”

  “We won’t make the same mistakes as you. We learned from your rebellion, and we’re being more careful. Plus, we have a god on our side now. And the best part …” He rubs his hands together with a grin. “When you, Sin, Nightmares, and all the others break the curse, all that energy and pain returns to the gods. Can you imagine? They’ll be hit with it all at once. They’ll be weakened. And that’s when we strike.” He sticks out his hand. “So, what do you say? Will you join us?”

  I remember what it was like the last time I went up against the gods. Then I recall my time as a servant; how I was forced to bring the Banished to the Thorns, how the gods made me carry out their punishments, forced me to do unthinkable things, sometimes even kill. I think about my suffering on earth and the centuries of pain and desolation. I think about my younger sister and brother back home in the After Kingdom, being tormented by the gods. Of my mother and father, and the friends I left behind. I can picture the anguish in their eyes the last time I saw them.

  Overthrowing the gods will be complicated, and will more than likely end in bloodshed. But remaining their servants isn’t any better.

  I shake his hand. “I’m in. I just need to know Everly won’t get hurt through all of this.”

  He nods, the tattoos on his arm and neck igniting. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. Until then, here’s a little bit of borrowed freedom. Use it to get close to Everly because, in the end, if you decide to do this—decide to let her break the curse—it has to be her decision.”

  I nod, feeling more weight bear down on my shoulders. I have to make this happen. Somehow. Otherwise, my family will continue to suffer through all of eternity.

  Chapter 6

  Everly

  Unconsciousness plays with my mind, trapping me in dreams with my mom, and oddly enough, with Nico. He appears at least a dozen times, if not more, and I start to question if my subconscious is trying to speak to me. I just don’t know what it expects me to do while I’m stuck in dreamland.

  Eventually, I claw my way out of Sleepyville and roll over in bed to check the time on my phone.

  Thursday, May 22nd. 6:45 pm.

  I bolt upright in bed. No! The graduation ceremony starts in less than an hour.

  I hurry and get ready, skipping a shower, though I need one, and opt for a heavy amount of deodorant and perfume. I pull on a simple black dress, comb my hair, and slip on my nicest pair of lace-up boots. Then I grab, like, five granola bars and a bottle of water, pour Teddy some food and water, and then haul ass out the door.

  Sprinting to my car, I rev up the engine, the tires squealing as I pull out of the parking space and speed out onto the road.

  I’m making great time, managing to hit mostly green lights, when traffic comes to a grinding halt.

  I roll down my window and stick my head out, squinting against the sunlight to see what’s causing the congestion.

  An accident. And it looks like a bad one.

  It’s okay. You still have fifteen minutes. There’s no way traffic will st
and still for that long.

  My thoughts laugh at me, and my own sadness clogs my chest as my one attempt at normalcy flies away with the wind.

  Over an hour later, my feet are pounding against the school’s linoleum floor as I barrel for the side doors of the stage where the cap and gowns are supposed to be. But no one is around, and the doors are locked.

  Backtracking, I wind around to the front entrance.

  “Sorry, hon, but you’re too late.” The school secretary sidesteps in front of the doors, stopping me. “You can sit down in the back, but I can’t let you up with your class.”

  “But it’s my graduation. You know, my moment to shine or whatever. And my whole family’s in there. My dad even flew all the way from Paris just to see me. You have to let me in, or he’ll be heartbroken.” I feed her a bunch of bullshit and a huge ass lie. I hate doing it, but it’s my last hope of getting in there.

  For a second, she looks like she’s buying my sad story. Then remorse flashes in her eyes, and my hope goes right down the toilet.

  “Sorry, but the ceremony’s almost over. Your name’s probably been called, anyway.” She offers me an apologetic smile. “If you want, though, we can let you borrow a cap and gown so your family can take photos. I bet they’ll really love that.”

  Tears sting my eyes, but I made myself a promise a long time ago that I’d stop crying over stuff I have no control over. I was sick of tears taking over my life.

  “No, I don’t think they will,” I mutter then turn away and push out the front doors.

  The warm night air spills over me as I jog to my car.

  “Goddammit!” I growl, kicking the tire of my car with the tip of my boot. The movement offers a bit of relief, so I do it again and again until my toe hurts. “Why did I have to pass out!”

  “Did they feed you that shit story about your name already being called, too?” a voice comes out of nowhere.

  Startled, I spin around, then suck in an uneven breath at the sight of Nico Everson standing a few feet away from me with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. My gaze sweeps across everywhere but his face. I fear looking him in the eyes again will set of my despair-o-meter.

  He’s dressed differently than usual in nice jeans; a black, button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up; and a grey tie hangs loosely around his neck. It’s a good look, but I doubt anything could not look good on him. Well, maybe a polo shirt and slacks. I’m not sure he could rock the preppy look very well.

  “It’s a lie, you know,” he continues, scuffing his boot against the pavement. “When I walked by the doors five minutes ago, the principal was still giving his speech. They haven’t given out the diplomas yet.”

  “Yeah, they told me that, too … About my name already being called, I mean.” I inch back until my back bumps into my driver’s side door. Then I trap my breath in my chest, fearing his pain will throat punch me at any moment.

  Don’t look at him. Just get in your car and drive away.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he declares abruptly. “I know people think I beat the shit out of everyone, but I’ve never started a fight. And I’d never hit a girl. Ever.”

  Huh? Why the hell is he declaring his fight record to me? Then it clicks. I fled from him in the hallway, and now I’m acting all squirrely again. He thinks I’m afraid of him.

  Maybe I should be. Well, his despair, anyway.

  “I don’t think you’re going to hurt me.” I keep my eyes trained on his boots. “I’m just …” You’re just, what, Everly? Scared? Yeah, that’s exactly what he thinks. “Socially incompetent.” I shake my head at myself. Socially incompetent? Really? You couldn’t come up with something less I’m-a-freak?

  When he chuckles, I dare to lift my gaze, wondering—hoping—that maybe the anguish he was feeling the other day has subsided.

  When our gazes collide, his eyes widen and my heart stammers inside my chest.

  He wets his lips with his tongue then allows his gaze to travel over me.

  Worry seeps through my skin as he scrutinizes every inch of me, and I discreetly wipe my face, concerned I may have some leftover Cheetos on my chin or something.

  “You look good, I promise,” he says, as if reading my mind. “That’s not what the look was about.”

  “Oh.” I lower my hand, feeling like an idiot over the butterflies dancing happily inside my stomach. Whoa. Those are new. That thought is followed by, He thinks I look good? No one has ever told me that before. “Then what was it about? The look, I mean.”

  He shrugs. “I’m just shocked you looked up at me. I thought maybe you’d stare at the ground all night.”

  I shift my weight as his despair sneaks up on me, pressing at the base of my throat. “Why? I mean, I’m sure people look at you all the time.”

  He shrugs again. “You’d be surprised how many don’t.”

  I arch my brows. “Really?” Because he’s really nice to look at.

  His lips quirk. “I’m a scary guy, Everly; haven’t you heard?”

  “Um, maybe.” This is by the far one of the most uncomfortable conversations I’ve ever had. Then again, I haven’t had a lot of conversations.

  Huh, maybe I was right about the socially incompetent thing.

  “And you ran away from me the other day.” He leaves the unasked question of why? hanging out there.

  “Yeah, sorry about that.” My pulse increases as the despair inside him magnifies. What on earth has happened to this guy to cause him so much pain? “It was just the whole thing with Leo,” I lie, not wanting to tell the truth because, you know, I’d look like a total nutjob. “It freaked me out. I’ve never had a guy get up in my face like that.” Another lie. The guys my mom usually brought home were the scum of the earth, and there were multiple instances where some of them tried to hit me, and a few succeeded. “But it might’ve been my own fault. I know I was pushing Leo’s buttons, yet I kept going.”

  “It’s not your fault.” His gaze blazes intensely as he takes a step toward me. “At all. And don’t ever think that. In fact, promise me you won’t.”

  I nod, shocked by the intensity in his eyes. Then my shock soars to the stars as he starts to reach for me. To do what, who the hell knows, but the move terrifies me to my very core. Fortunately, he changes his mind, returning his hand to his side. Okay, maybe not fortunately.

  In my girlie, giddy, I’m-allowed-to-have-a-crush side of my brain, I want to be touched by Nico. If only he didn’t have so much despair swirling off him, then maybe I’d reach over, grab his hand, and put his hand on my … Well, whatever he was going to touch.

  That thought makes my mind pummel into lust land. Dirty images flood my mind of all the places he could touch, and my cheeks turn all glowy, like freakin’ glow sticks.

  Nico’s brow furrows as he angles his head to the side. “You look kind of happy right now.” He almost smiles, and the despair almost vanishes.

  Almost, but never completely.

  Looking away, my hair veils my cheeks. I can feel his gaze boring into me, as if willing me to look at him. I want to, but I’m scared what will happen if I do.

  “I’m just happy school’s over; that’s all.” God, if he knew my happiness was linked to visions of him and me doing dirty deeds, he’d probably run for the hills.

  “Well, it’s a good look for you,” he finally says. “Usually, you look so … sad.” His voice wavers with his own sadness.

  I lift my gaze to his, wanting to make sure he’s okay. However, the gloom pouring off of him has grown from a faint ache to a full-on punch in the chest, so I turn for my car, needing to drive the hell away from him before I lose it.

  “Thank you for stopping Leo,” I sputter, yanking open my car door. “I have to go, like, right now.”

  “Wait,” he starts, but I’m already in my car and slamming the door shut.

  I turn on the engine, slam my foot down on the gas pedal, and start to peel out of the parking lot. Then, as I cast a glance in the r
earview mirror, my foot shifts to the brake.

  Nico is down on his knees with his head in his hands, a vision of misery. I know the torturous feeling all too well. I used to see Bridger in the same kind of self-struggle.

  I think back to all the times I’ve seen Nico by himself; how he doesn’t seem to have anyone in his life. I think of my lonely life. The solitude, the endless hopelessness that haunts me. I think about how no one has ever simply asked me if I’m okay; how I often wondered why, and if I’m not worthy of such a question.

  Most of all, I think of Bridger. How I couldn’t help him. How I should’ve helped him. How I should’ve tried harder. Should’ve. Could’ve. Would’ve.

  I failed him.

  Suddenly, I’m parking the car, getting out, and walking back to Nico.

  The closer I get, the more I notice he’s shaking, and any fear of breathing in his pain melts away.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, stopping a few feet away.

  His head snaps up, shock flashing in his eyes. “I thought you left.”

  “I did … I just …” God, how do I say this? If I ever made friends, perhaps I’d know the answer. “Do you want to go somewhere? I mean, with me?”

  He gives me a curious yet slightly stunned look. “Where?”

  “I don’t know.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, racking my brain for an answer. “Um … To the beach or something?” The beach? That sounds normal, right?

  His gaze briefly lifts to the sky before landing back on me. “For how long?”

  I shrug, curious to know why he just looked up at the sky, but I don’t feel brave enough to ask. “For as long as you want.” For as long as you need.

  He considers my offer for so long that I expect him to answer with a big fat hell no, but then he cracks the tiniest smile, and it may be the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

  “I think I can spare a few hours.”

  I have to catch my breath before I speak. “Okay.” I motion for him to follow me as I walk back to my car, racking my brain for a way to make sure I won’t pass out while being so close to him and coming up with zilch. I guess I’ll just have to keep my distance and hope for the best.

 

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