Everlong

by Hailey Edwards

  “He wasn’t my lover.” The words rushed out until I clamped a hand over my lips. I don’t know why I said it. My heart ached the second I refuted the claim.

  Clayton’s voice lowered to a husky growl. “I don’t want details.”

  “Oh.” Blood rushed to my cheeks. “Of course you don’t. I didn’t mean— I just— Sorry.”

  His long fingers circled the gear shift. “Don’t worry about it.” He threw the truck into drive, and as he executed a three-point turn, the headlights washed over the demons dragging their quarry farther into the night.

  I knew Clayton wanted silence. I could sense it in the tight clench of his jaw and tense hold on the wheel, but I wanted to know. “Why didn’t Harper tell me he had a brother?” I paused, hearing nothing but the steady hum of the motor.

  For a moment, he sat silently, ignoring me. His fingers flexed a little as if only now realizing how tight his grip had been. “I didn’t know my brother,” he corrected, “didn’t know I had a brother until the day my father assigned me to border patrol.”

  “Border patrol?”

  “I am freeborn.” He grinned with pride and my heart raced in response. “I’ve never known Askaran hospitality.”

  His joke fell short because I knew what I was, what my mother had been and still was, and he did too. He glanced over and caught me picking my fingernails to avoid his assessment. “I apologize. You aren’t responsible for your mother’s actions. The Askaran society is cancerous. I’m glad you escaped.” He didn’t say before you were tainted, but I heard the words as clearly as if he had spoken them.

  “It’s all right. I was raised apart from my family. I didn’t realize how bad things were until shortly before…before we left.” And when I’d found out, I had been horrified. Slavery had only been the tip of the iceberg, with worse things hidden just below the surface. Abuse, neglect, rape, all things centered on the Askaran craving for the depraved.

  “I know. I saw you once, a very long time ago.” Dimples winked in Clayton’s cheeks as though he were remembering something amusing.

  “What were you thinking just now?”

  “I was remembering the first time I saw you.” His cheek smoothed. Instead, he seemed contemplative as he recalled the memory for us both. “I served under my father in the freeborn legion. When my turn for patrol came up on the roster, I did something I normally wouldn’t have done. I flew through Rihos, over the courtyard of the summer castle, and saw an angel and a demon playing together in the gardens. You couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven years old.” He frowned. “I knew the boy was blood kin. His wings carried the same crosshatch pattern all those of our line bear. But you…” he glanced my way, then resumed his stare, “…were enchanting.”

  I admired his profile using the pale illumination of the speedometer. From this angle, he looked less familiar. His face seemed more rounded and less angular than Harper’s had been. “Why do you say that?”

  This time Clayton didn’t answer. He kept his eyes on the road and drove. I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, rocking over the uneven surface and fighting the call of sleep. I think I dozed off because all too soon I heard the rhythmic click of the turn signal, then the nose of the truck dipped in a pothole. I was home.

  I opened my eyes to the familiar outline of the farmhouse I shared with Emma. Every light burned bright and every window’s curtain was parted. Clayton parked beside Emma’s matching truck, and then slid off the seat and into the night.

  My door opened with a suctioned pop. I saw him hesitate. A fresh wave of humiliation flooded me. I imagined him remembering the feel of those bony stubs. They represented a death sentence to the Evanti. Flight was soul food their hearts and minds would die without. By all accounts, most demons wished me dead for my own sake. They couldn’t imagine life without wings any more than I would imagine owning my place in the sky.

  “You don’t have to touch me.” I would drag myself across the yard before I let him see how his actions had hurt me.

  Clayton shifted closer, blocking the open doorway and my line of sight. His calloused fingers trailed my cheek, smoothing across my lower lip. “It’s not that I don’t want to touch you.”

  “But now you’ve felt them.” I stiffened, trying to brace myself for his pity and unable to stop myself from adding, “I can’t help it. They’re a part of me.”

  “Shhh,” he whispered, brushing his lips against my eyes where salty tears mingled with muddy rainwater. “You misunderstand me. I’m afraid if I touch you again…” his stubbled cheek rubbed against mine, “…I might not be able to stop.”

  My mouth fell open and he took it as an invitation, nuzzling his way across my nose until he reached my lips and sealed our mouths together with a kiss that curled my toes.

  I’d never been kissed. Not with tongue and teeth and carnal intent. The rush of possibilities I’d never considered was dizzying. Heat licked along my spine and pooled lower, searing me with the need to taste more of him.

  “Maddie!” my sister cried out from behind the mountain of demon thrusting his tongue inside my mouth. “Maddie! Thank Zaniah you’re all right.”

  Clayton eased away, nipping my bottom lip as he went. The interruption saved me from making awkward excuses for my behavior or apologies for whatever had passed between us. Emma shoved him aside, scowling, and then wrapped me in a spine-snapping hug.

  “I’m fine.” Fine seemed like light years away from where I’d been only a few hours earlier. I stiffened, finding her embrace less comforting than it had always been.

  Emma’s arms fell to her sides, perhaps sensing the anger waking in me. “I should have told you. I should have warned you, but I didn’t think it would happen so soon.”

  I frowned. Jacob had sounded as if he’d had plenty of time to make his plans. Years, if his rant could be believed. So the word soon didn’t seem to apply. “What’s happening to me?”

  Emma’s gaze snapped to Clayton. “This is a private conversation. Can’t you go be a statue somewhere else?”

  He took a few steps away, enough for the illusion of privacy at least. Emma lowered her voice.

  “It’s been five years since your ascendancy ceremony.” Twin lines appeared between her eyebrows, drawing them down. “And you’ve been five years without Harper.”

  “Okay.” I drew out the word.

  “Your ascendancy coincided with your first ovulation.” Her warm arms encircled me, lifting me from the truck. “But, there’s more to it than that.”

  “What don’t I know?” I asked warily.

  “Askaran females are only fertile for a period of four or five days once every five years. During that time, their scent will change as their body emits a pheromone designed to attract males.”

  I swallowed hard. “I definitely don’t remember that.”

  “I couldn’t tell you at the time.” Her explanation sounded as weak as I felt. “It’s an ascendant’s suitor, or if a union is prearranged, her consort, who is entrusted with all aspects of her sexual education.”

  “And later?” My fingers tightened in the fabric of her shirt as my nails dug into her shoulder. “You couldn’t have told me this before now?”

  “I tried,” she snapped. “You shut me down every time I broached the topic.”

  “I should have been told.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have practically stuffed your fingers in your ears every time I mentioned Harper or the damned Evanti.” Her jaw set. “If I said something you didn’t want to hear, you’d stop talking for days. It’s my fault for not pushing you sooner, I know that, and I’m sorry. I did the best I could for you, for both of us, but I’m not perfect.”

  “Wait.” Muddled comprehension failed me. “What about Jacob? What does this have to do with the Evanti?”

  “You’re a half breed claimed by one of their males. Evanti customs ensure a female a period of five years to grieve over a lost mate. Since they have so few females, it’s a given she
will be expected to mate again to help populate the race.”

  Realization dawned. “You’re telling me I’m what? In heat and available?”

  Emma winced. “I honestly didn’t think it would get so out of hand. Harper never allowed the other males around you, so I didn’t know what to expect.” She barely jostled me as she climbed the front-porch steps. “I think we all underestimated the intensity of your appeal.”

  My gaze found its way unerringly to Clayton. “So they act on impulse rather than sincere interest?”

  She bobbed her head. “Taking your pheromones into consideration? They will all be affected on some level.”

  Clayton’s lips tightened in a hard line as we walked past. I rested my weary head on Emma’s shoulder and the pastry-sweet scent of home tickled my nose.

  She pressed her lips to my cheek. “I love you, vinda koosh.”

  “I know you do.” I sighed.

  She settled me on the couch in our tiny living room. “Let’s have a look and see what the damage is.” She scanned me from head to toe, eyes snagging on the cut denim where bone pierced through flesh. Regenerated skin had already begun to swallow the protrusion. We both knew what had to be done.

  She glanced at me, her face impassive. “Are you ready?”

  I locked my jaw. “Do it.”

  A crisp snap like a celery stalk breaking filled the room. I cried out as a torrent of pain swept me up and threatened to drag me under while Emma reset the broken bone. I would heal, but damn it, I would hurt too.

  Clayton charged through the doorway and came to my side in an instant, grabbing Emma by the throat and lifting her from the couch. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He gritted out the words through his clenched teeth.

  I didn’t have to worry about Emma. The cold sweat breaking along my spine was all for Clayton. Something menacing stirred behind those pale blue eyes of hers.

  Clayton was another matter. No matter his innate strength, or the years spent training that had honed his body to rock-hard perfection, biology still insured they were unevenly matched.

  She was a halfling, and he was not. If he made her mad enough, she could level him without batting an eyelash.

  I threw a couch pillow at him, bringing his attention back to me and away from a fight he couldn’t win. “Clayton, let her go. She had to snap the bone before it mended completely.”

  He blinked his eyes as if to clear them and released Emma from his hold. He backed away slowly, slipping back behind his mask of indifference. “I apologize. That was uncalled for. I should have known you would never willingly harm her.”

  Emma rubbed a hand across her reddened throat. “Maddie heals quickly. I’m surprised Harper never told you. When her bones are broken, they have to be reset within a couple of hours or she has to endure a solid break.”

  Clayton looked past her to me. “How many times have you done this?”

  She snarled. “My father wanted Maddie from the first time he saw her during the summer court of her tenth year. He knew he couldn’t possess her until after her ascension, so he forced me to punish her for his pleasure.” Her voice cracked. “She lived apart from the rest of the court, and she was the one thing he couldn’t have. When he found out she was unbreakable…” Emma shuddered and left the rest unspoken.

  Clayton’s gaze held mine, but I broke the stare. Ashamed of what she and I had been. What at our basest level, we still were.

  He reached out to me. “Maddie, I—”

  Emma shoved him back. “Don’t call her that.” I heard tears in her voice. “You’re not Harper no matter how much you wish you were. You don’t know her.”

  All the churning emotion, regret, concern, confusion and something infinitely softer, sweeter, drained from his face. “Madelyn,” he corrected. “I wish you a quick recovery.” He turned towards the door. “I’m going to check on Jacob before heading home.” His eyes gleamed sterling. “He will be punished for what he did to you.”

  Emma nodded and Clayton dipped his head in turn. Clearly there was much more to this story than either had told me. But answers would have to wait until the edge of pain had dulled and I could think again.

  I didn’t want Clayton to go, but I couldn’t ask him to stay because according to Emma, his hormones would ensure he remained, whether he wanted to or not. It would be better to let him go and clear the air between us. “Thank you, Clayton, for everything.”

  He didn’t get a chance to respond. Our screen door flew open, slapping against the kitchen wall. Dana rushed in and made a beeline to where I lay sprawled on the couch. “Oh, Maddie,” she cried. “You poor little thing. When we heard the news, I was shocked.”

  “Were you?” I asked, but she ignored me. This morning she had tried to tell me something. I no longer had to wonder what, but whereas I could almost forgive my sister for her actions, I did wonder what Dana’s reasons for withholding information were.

  “Who would have thought Jacob, our Jacob, would react in such a way?” She took a few more hurried steps before catching sight of Clayton. Her turnabout almost gave me whiplash. She straightened her spine, thrusting her shoulders back as she ran a hand along her hair, checking her tight bun for flyaways before turning to face him instead.

  “Oh, Clayton,” she cooed. “You were so brave tonight. Mason and Dillon told me all about how Jacob was drinking coffee again. He knows that stuff makes him out of his mind. That boy has got to learn to read labels.”

  She patted his well-defined arm. “I didn’t see your truck. Why don’t you let me drive you out to see Jacob? That is where you’re going, right? Then I’ll take you right on home.”

  My fingernails dug into my palms. It irked me to realize if I’d been able to walk, I would have delighted in peeling her fingers away from his arm. I’d never been a fan of Dana’s, but the sudden irrational urge to wedge myself between her body and Clayton’s benchmarked a new level of dislike.

  He nodded. “I appreciate your offer.”

  She hooked her arm through his, leading him like a prize stallion through the kitchen. “Come on, hon. Don’t drag your feet.” Her expression shifted to something like pride. “I have three little boys waiting on their momma to get home.”

  The way Dana stroked him, practically crawling beneath his skin, and the way he allowed it, left little doubt as to whom the sire of her Evanti triplets must be. I remembered Emma telling me the children’s father had died in the same ambush that had cost us Harper. That might not have been the case.

  I recalled Jacob’s words. Did you look for his face among the children? Did you find it?

  Perhaps it wasn’t Harper’s likeness, but Clayton’s evidenced in Dana’s offspring.

  Emma’s voice rose over the screen door flapping shut on their exit. “Let’s get you up to bed. If we get you bandaged up right, you’ll be walking again by tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow is Wednesday.” It seemed like weeks instead of hours since I’d left the house this morning.

  “No. Absolutely not.” She scooped me into her arms. “You are not going hiking in the morning. One small misstep and you risk a repeat fracture. You’d be stranded on the mountain, and that is not going to happen. I won’t risk another Jacob finding you isolated out there.”

  “Yes, Mom,” I quipped.

  She wrinkled her nose and glanced down at my bloodied and muddied state. “Do you want to take a shower before you lie down?”

  I stared longingly at my bed. With the covers pulled down and my pillow fluffed within an inch of its life, I couldn’t resist its siren song. “Not tonight. I’ll catch one in the morning. It’s not like I have to worry about infection, and I’ll wash the sheets myself so you don’t have to. Besides, we’ve slept through worse.”

  And we had.

  Chapter Nine

  The next day my steps were slower, the burn of impact as my legs absorbed my weight more pronounced, but I was up and walking. The discomfort didn’t stop me from working, but Emma tried to.<
br />
  Every fifteen minutes she brought out a quart-sized freezer bag full of ice cubes and pushed me down into a booth before slapping it onto the sore knee. Lucky for us, Wednesdays were, without fail, the slowest day of the workweek.

  Glass comprised two-thirds of the diner’s outer wall, giving our patrons a window to the outside world. And who didn’t like to people watch? I stared through the Windex-polished panes and craned my neck, trying to catch a glimpse of Emasen, but left a smear from my forehead instead.

  “Stop sulking.” Emma tossed a balled-up napkin at me, bouncing it off the side of my head.

  I picked it up and wiped away the smudge. “I’m not sulking.” Okay, so if I didn’t tuck in my bottom lip, I would probably trip over it before the shift’s end. “I haven’t missed a cliff day since coming here.”

  The mountain had been my place of solace in a time when I’d needed a way to cope. On the rare occasions when Mother allowed me to travel in Rihos, Harper had sneaked me to a barren summit neighboring the summer castle.

  I would sit, dangling my feet over the ledge and watch as he dived into open air and raced towards the ground in freefall. I gasped each time as his wings snapped open with a sharp pop to halt his descent.

  Sometimes, he had even cradled me against him, allowing me to play the game too.

  I needed a way to forget I’d cost such a vibrant male his life. Emasen gave that to me. There, I could almost hear his laughter carried on the winds roaring through the basin.

  I exhaled slowly, taking stock of how I’d squandered the life he’d given me. I’d done nothing, went nowhere to justify his sacrifice. My chest ached. My heart hurt until I wished to pull it out and slide back down into the mire of my self-imposed isolation.

  My fingernails bit into my palms. No, I would use the pain to anchor me. To keep me awakened and remind me of the high cost of freedom and the male who’d paid the price so I didn’t have to.

  “More icing and less pouting.” Emma pointed to where the bag only half covered my knee.

  I straightened the compress and cast a quick glance around the diner. An elderly couple hunching over their bowls of soup du jour were the lunch rush today. The rest of the place sat empty, and had been since the sparse morning rush.