Everlost (The Night Watchmen Series Book 3) (11 page)

Her face falls, and every painful emotion you can feel buries the green in his eyes. None of us left Ethryeal City on good terms with Mack, mostly because of his own doings, but that still doesn’t change the fact that he was Jaxen’s Elder. He was a large part of Jaxen’s life for a very long time, almost like a father.

And Clara knew it.

“I should have known. I have to tell Weldon.” He turns and heads out of the room, rushing down the stairs.

I’m a million different emotions, floating out of reach. Floating far away.

“Jezi’s moving her things out of the room next to this one. You can sleep there for now,” I say to Katie, turning for the door. “Do you need or want anything?”

She’s holding her arm pinned to her side. “To start over,” she says, tears in her voice. “We got off on the wrong foot.”

My arms and legs feel like thousand-pound weights. My brain feels like it’s been ran over by a freight truck filled with every horror I’ve ever dreaded.

“It’s okay,” I say with a fading smile. “You’re going through a lot. I’m here for you, Katie. Swear.”

She wipes at her nose. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to be introduced to everyone?”

“Not just yet. I’d like to get a shower maybe. Change?”

I palm my forehead. “Of course. Sorry. You can use my shower. Soap and everything is in there.” I point to the closet. “I’ve manifested a few outfits, so feel free to scavenge through.”

“Thanks,” she says with a half smile.

I nod and head out of the room in search of Jaxen, trying to leave the confusion and awkward feelings behind. But I’ve never been good at lying to myself. Not about what I feel. I feel it all too much, and I swallow it down and let it burrow into my soul as I push through the kitchen door and find Weldon shoving his way out the back door, cursing loudly.

“This is seven levels of fucked up,” Gavin says, nostrils flaring. “She has them all. I know she does.”

“All who?” I ask, moving to sit next to Jaxen at the table where the map is still stretched out.

“Everyone who freaking matters, that’s who,” he answers, plunging his hands through his hair. “Jonathon, Mack, Seamus, all of them!”

“We have to go back,” Jezi says, rubbing her temples. “We have no choice now.”

“We can’t go back,” Cassie says.

“We need more men. More fighters,” Gavin says. He slams his fists against the head of the kitchen table. “Damn it! You know damn well there will be an army waiting for us if we go back. We’re not just fighting the Darkyns anymore.”

Jezi’s head falls. Jaxen stands rigid, legs planted wide as he stares at the table, cracking his knuckles.

“This shit storm just hit an all new high,” Gavin says, eyes tight, “even for me.”

While everyone banters back and forth, my eyes center on Weldon on the back porch. He’s pacing back and forth, talking to himself. His thoughts are somewhere else, miles and miles from where we are. Probably locked away, just like his brother.

Ages pass as I feel the little bit of hope I had clung to slip away.

When Weldon finally storms back through the kitchen door, the entire room stops mid-sentence. He walks up to the table. Presses his palms against it. His head is bowed, his eyes clenched shut. “I can link with him. We’ve always been able to, even sometimes when we were in the Underground. It’s a twin thing.”

“You sure?” Gavin asks subtly.

Weldon looks up, his face a torturous mix of emotions that I can barely stand to look at. “He’s my brother,” he says, his voice cracking in half.

And with that, he pushes off the table and heads back out the back door, out into the dimming sky.

Silence follows his exit. No one knows what to say anymore. Gavin falls back down into his chair. Jezi heads over to the sink where the window is, messing with the dishes while her gaze scans after him. Jaxen takes a seat next to me and starts chewing on his nails.

It remains like this for a few minutes. Heavy. Grim. Our loud thoughts are the only thing filling this room, until Jezi drops a plate in the sink, the loud, ceramic smack cutting through the silence.

Cassie looks over at her. “Something is in the air, but I can’t put my finger on it. An energy I’ve sensed before.”

Jezi turns and looks at Jaxen. “I hate to break up this joyous moment, but we need to focus on the matter at hand,” she says.

“Which one?” Gavin says with a shaky laugh. “Take your pick.”

“Your mother,” she says bluntly. “She’s here.”

Both Jaxen and Gavin look up at her. “Here?” Gavin says. “Like
here
here?”

“Yes. Like right outside the front door.”

ISN’T IT WEIRD HOW YOU can wake up with a plan about how your day will go, and then, little by little, the universe decides to remind you that you can plan all you want, but there are forces much larger than us, with entirely different plans than what we had in store for ourselves.

Because it keeps happening to me, over and over, and my patience is wearing thin.

All I can think is that the universe must get a good laugh watching us as we scramble to find our balance after it delivers earthquake after earthquake. Despair after despair. Crippling our bones until we’re stripped bare and left digging through the sandbox, searching for the millions of pieces of ourselves that seem to slip into its own Bermuda Triangle.

And maybe that is what’s so good about the future. So promising about the one thing we cannot predict. Not knowing what’s in store makes it easier to breathe in and breathe out. Being blind to what’s coming in some way shields us from living day in and day out in total and complete fear. It makes every moment that much more precious. That much more valuable.

Gavin looks up at Jaxen, who’s looking back at him, mildly horrified. Slightly scared.

His face is so pale that it’s almost transparent, and his heart is practically beating out of his chest. I want to reach for him, but my hands have gone numb. The room, it’s suddenly so cold.

No one knows what to say. We all knew this was coming… but now that it’s here, I don’t think any of us quite know how to feel.

Gavin is the first to make a move. I wouldn’t expect less from him. In a way, he’s always been like a leader to us. An anchor we would drift away without.

He unfolds his hand, placing a fist against his palm, and lifts an eyebrow in Jaxen’s direction. “You win, I get the door. I win, you get the door,” he says, trying to make light of the situation, though the humor is devoid in his voice. He’s guiding Jaxen. Walking him through this monumental moment.

They both look at each other like the world is splitting open right in front of them, but they have all the strength in the world to withstand the fall because, together, they will make it through.

I half expect Jaxen to curse at him for making a joke out of something that’s clearly eating him alive, but he doesn’t. And that’s the beauty of their relationship. It isn’t for me to know how Jaxen will respond. How Gavin should or shouldn’t treat him, because they know each other deeper than most of us know ourselves.

Jaxen inhales and holds his hands out and, on three, they play their sacred, misunderstood game of rock, paper, scissors.

Gavin has a rock.

Jaxen has scissors.

Jaxen curses under his breath against Gavin’s taunting laughter, and then smoothes his hair back. He tugs on the hem of his shirt. Swallows down the need to back out. He looks down at me, steel in his eyes, and then heads out of the kitchen with purpose in his steps. I follow behind him, just as curious and nervous. Time seems to slow and speed up as he approaches the door.

He doesn’t wait for the rest as they file out of the kitchen behind us. When he reaches for the door handle, his hand hovers over it. A million emotions settle in his features. With a deep breath, he twists the handle and the door swings open.

The hairs on my arms rise as warning signals flare up inside me.

Something is wrong… off… not the way it should be. It’s like a sudden chill in the air on a hot summer day. Like a blue sky turning green right before a tornado forms.

There she is at the bottom of the steps, standing with her hands clasped in front of her and her face shielded under an intricately detailed gold and royal-blue cloak. But it’s what’s standing behind her that has the Hunter in me itching for my flux. The muscles in me flexing for release.

Werewolves.

I smell them. Sense them. Taste the darkness in them. But they don’t… they don’t look like werewolves. At least, not like any I’ve ever seen before. I quickly count six behind Evangeline. There’s a black one who looks more human than werewolf, with a snout instead of a nose, and golden eyes. On one side of her is a dark brown man with the arms and legs of a werewolf, standing upright on his hind legs. On the other side is a woman who looks of mixed race with cinnamon-colored skin and Ethiopian-like features. Freckles cover her quaint face and on down her arms. Her hands are claws and her feet are like that of a wolf.

Behind them is a man with long, flowing, sandy-blond hair, yet, his legs and arms are like a wolf and he’s on all fours, pacing back and forth, growling through his snout. Next to him is a woman with a snout the color of gold.

I smell the Primeval in all of them.

That must be why they’re all mismatched versions of werewolves.

Misfits… just like Weldon and me.

But that isn’t what catches my eye. It’s the small wolf tucked right behind Evangeline’s legs, peering hesitantly at us. Her coat is the color of cream with tiny cinnamon speckles underneath her eyes. She carries a strong scent of werewolf. She’s more wolf than the rest, being completely shifted.

Every fiber in my body is yelling and screaming at me to attack. To vanquish the very kind that are responsible for scarring Katie’s face.

But no one else moves.

I turn. Jaxen is frozen in place, staring at the tall, slender-framed woman. She pushes her hood back. Long, flowing, brown hair is kept pinned out of her face. Eyes like Jaxen’s pass over me before landing on him. The same hardened, green eyes Jaxen once had. Her hands are pressed to the sides of her cloak, her fingers flexing and releasing… like she’s unsure of what will happen. Unsure if she should even be here.

She takes a small, hesitant step forward. “Hello, Jaxen,” she says, her voice surprisingly soft and melodic.

Seconds march between them, armed with weapons loaded with every pent-up emotion he’s ever felt.

He stumbles down a step.

And then another.

And another and another, until he’s standing right in front of her, staring at her as if she’s going to vanish at any moment. Gazing at her as if he’s just encountered the bogeyman that’s been hiding in his closet all these years, and he realizes now that she isn’t as bad and as scary as he thought she would be. She’s just a person… just like him.

Flesh and blood. Mistakes and empty promises.

“Mom?”

She reaches out. “It’s been far too long. I know.”

The fabric of her cloak has slid back on her arm, baring an ugly scar that looks oddly like a marring of teeth marks.

Like she was… she was bitten.

I think my heart is going to explode in pain, because I’m sure it can’t contain the amount of all-consuming emotions it’s feeling right now. I can’t keep my eyes off him as she waits for him to say something. Anything.

“You’re—you…” He looks down at the scar on her arm, down at her feet, at the small wolf looking up at him with bright, curious eyes, and then back up at her. “You’re a werewolf?”

She takes another step toward him. “Look at how you’ve grown. How handsome you are. So much like your father, yet, I see so much of myself in you. Words can’t express how proud I am of you. Of the man you’ve become. And how proud I know your father would have been.”

She takes another step in his direction. Reaches her hand out toward him, but he backs away from her. Shakes his head like he’s trying to make sense of her words, and I’m trying so hard to swallow the lump in my throat that’s trying to choke me.

“Jaxen, please. If you’ll just let me explain…”

His hands fly up by his ears as his face screws up with so many emotions. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. Loss. Confusion.

But most of all… fear.

Fear that his illusions of how this moment would go… of what her reasons would be for leaving… wouldn’t be strong enough to shatter the walls he’s so carefully built.

But being bitten? Being forced to turn into something against her will?

How can you blame her for that?

She follows his movements. Moves closer, looking like it’s taking all of her strength to keep from wrapping her arms around him. To keep from protecting him from this hurt she knows he’s lived with for far too long.

“This… this can’t be happening right now.” He grabs her arm, pulling it closer so he can fully inspect her scar. “You were bitten?”

She nods as tears slip down her cheek.

“Is that… is that why?” he chokes out, his face twisted in rage, disgust, and horror. His words smothered by agony, disappointment, and torment.

“You don’t know how hard it was for me to leave you,” she rushes out, tears straining her voice.

He drops her arm. Swallows down the millions of fervent emotions threatening to buckle his knees, and deals with it the best way he can. The only way he knows how.

He hardens himself.

“But I know how hard it was to be left.” He backs up a step. Far enough that she can’t so readily touch him. “So is this your big explanation? Is this your only excuse? You were bit and had to abandon us? You couldn’t have even tried to let us know if you were okay? Tried to at least explain so we wouldn’t be left questioning what
we
did wrong? Why
we
could be so easily left?”

Evangeline jerks back as if she’d been struck across the face. The little wolf, still hiding behind Evangeline’s legs, bares teeth up at Jaxen, growling out.

“Leaving you was the single hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I couldn’t let you become a part of this world, Jaxen. I’m your mother. I couldn’t risk hurting you. You have to understand,” Evangeline says desperately.

He runs his hands angrily through his hair. Tugs on the ends. Stares at her with unmasked hatred. “I don’t have to understand anything,” he says heatedly as he begins to pace back and forth in front of her. “But more importantly,” he continues, “I don’t want to!” He stops right in front of her. Lowers his gaze on her as shadows fill his tone. “We might be related by blood, but that’s about it. You don’t have the right to claim the title of Mother. Not anymore. Not ever again,” he spits out.

“Jax,” Gavin says, moving quickly to stand next to him. He tries to put his hands on his shoulders, but Jaxen just shrugs them off and moves away from him. “Calm down, bro. Please. You promised me.”

“Why should I calm down? Are they going to attack me?” he asks, throwing a wrathful look over his shoulder at the wolves who are all on point now, teeth showing and growls rumbling. “Her new family. These… the beasts who she has given all her time to. Time that should have been ours? This is insane. This is-this—”

“It isn’t fair,” she finishes for him. “I know.” She holds her hand out to shush the few wolves growling behind her. “And it’s going to take time for you to absorb this. I didn’t come here thinking otherwise. I get that it’s difficult for you to understand my reasons. I never expected it not to be, which is why I initially left. I wanted the best future for you boys. I wanted you to move forward in life without having this,” she looks back at the wolves, “this big secret hanging over your heads, which could potentially rob you of a future you were destined to live out. If the Priesthood found out that you were talking with us, you would have been shunned.”

“So instead, you left us with your abandonment hanging over our heads?” Jaxen says bitterly with his back to her. He spins on her, tears slipping down his cheeks. “You left us! Disappeared into thin air. Made us feel like we weren’t good enough. Made us feel like you were only ever there for Dad and, when he died, we were of no use to you anymore. What kind of mother does that? What kind of mother can leave two boys to figure it out on their own? To mourn the loss of not one, but two parents?”

He turns back to Gavin. “I’m sorry, brother. I promised you I would try. I tried.” Without another word, he rushes back up the stairs and slams the front door behind him, rattling the glass in its frame.

Gavin’s tripping over words.

Awkward tension stifles the air around us.

I retrace everything that has happened. Try not to notice Evangeline’s hand trembling at her sides.

Weldon takes a step forward, the sound of his feet crushing the grass beneath him as loud as someone screaming right beside me. “Well, that was a twist I didn’t see coming,” he says, laughing despite nothing being funny. “It certainly threw our dear Jaxen for a loop.” He stops near Evangeline and bows his head slightly at her. “I, too, am fond of the moon, but I don’t think in the same context as your howling lot.”