Evernight (The Night Watchmen Series Book 2) (28 page)

“She tried to put up a fight in the beginning, but who could resist this charm?” He chuckles to himself, so lost in thought. “And when she finally gave in to me, I knew that I had reached my peak. I knew that I had touched the edges of the universe. Being loved by her was
that
powerful.”

Dropping his head, he closes his eyes. His tone shifts as shadows form around him. “I should have known better when I made that deal. I should have known that she wouldn’t stay put, even when she promised me she would. Even when she told me that we were ride or die, and she would find a way around the deal that didn’t involve making one of her own.

“When I returned, I had no idea what had happened. They don’t tell you anything down in the Underground. I thought she had found a way. I thought so many things, but never once did I think she had traded herself, because that would mean she went back on her promise. That would mean the tigress would no longer have her freedom. And I couldn’t handle it.”

He plunges both hands into his hair, rubbing back and forth, as his voice strains with an emotion that drives a knife right through my heart. “She wasn’t supposed to trade herself. She’s not meant for a cage. I should have… I should have found another way for Mack. I should have given it more time but…”

“Weldon,” I say, reaching out to him.

He looks up at me, tears dulling the gold in his eyes. “But I couldn’t, Faye. I couldn’t leave him down there for another minute. He’s my brother. My twin. I had to do something. He was always the book-smart one. I thought if I could just get him up here, then he could think of a better solution to get me out.”

Anger flits across his face, curling his lips. “But he didn’t find a solution. He just stood back and let her go, and I’m not sure I can ever forgive him for it.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say, reaching out to rub his back.

He looks over at me and smiles, but it holds no weight. “Wow,” he says, shaking away the moment. “I can’t believe I went there. I didn’t know I could be so emotionally deep.” He’s already putting his walls back up, pushing away the pain he so openly just felt.

“Weldon,” I start to say, trying to show him it’s okay to be open.

He waves me off with his hand, sucking in a deep breath. “The general said we should get to know each other. You know my story now. Enough said.”

I sit there awkwardly for a moment, racking my brain for something to say. Anything to smooth away the awkward silence and drowning thoughts. Something that will drive out the demons haunting both our minds in the form of unwanted memories.

Finally, a random fact pops up, and it’s just enough to change the tone of our conversation. “Did you know that chocolate has a chemical in it that possibly counteracts depression?”

He looks at me funny. “I can’t say that I did.”

I rub the side of my arm and look up at him. “Do you like chocolate?”

He chews on his lip for a second, his eyes distant in thought. “Umm… I used to, but not so much anymore.”

“Me either. I prefer cheese over chocolate.”

He runs his hands through his golden hair. “I uh-I only have a taste for blood.”

I try to ignore the waves sloshing around in my stomach. “Oh,” I say, swallowing slowly.

He turns to me. “But I do need to eat human food every once in a while. It just isn’t very satisfying.” He extends his other leg out, leaning back on the palm of his hands. “Sometimes, I miss the gratification of sinking my teeth into a juicy hamburger though. You know—all the grease, melted cheese, sauce, and bacon.” He pauses to look at me. “You can’t have a burger without bacon.”

“Yeah,” I laugh, “everything’s better with bacon.” Tucking my hair behind my ear, I lean back to match his stance. “I honestly can’t remember the last time I had one.” I close my eyes, and Katie comes to mind. “Actually, I can. The day after high school graduation. My dad had a cookout for Katie and me. That was the last time.” I open my eyes, hating that they burn.

“Your dad was a good man,” Weldon says, looking me straight in the eye.

“So uh, what else can you do as a demon?” I ask, shifting subjects onto something a little less painful and close to home.

He plays right along, allowing me the space I need from a subject too personal to speak aloud. I feel like I’ve robbed him. As if I’ve slotted him when he just opened up to me about Claire, but I can’t bring myself to try. Not about my parents. Not yet.

“Basically the same things as other demons, I’m just not at full strength since I still have my humanity. I hear every other demon on a different wavelength. I understand their language. I can pass through shadows. I can be vicious, savage, cruel, and heartless… you know… all the basic requirements.”

“You’re none of those things,” I say quietly.

He looks off to the side. “You barely know me, Faye. You don’t know half the things I’ve done.”

“I know that your mistakes aren’t what define you,” I say strongly.

He snorts under his breath. “Okay, Mary Middleton. Have you tried taking your own advice? Better yet, have you ever considered the notion that just because you accept the fact they’re gone, doesn’t mean you have to forget about them?”

Heat builds under my skin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m sorry,” he says in a tone that suggests otherwise. “I didn’t realize that you were a psychiatrist. You know—the kind of person who likes to listen to problems, but not speak of their own. The kind that makes you think you’re a friend by listening, but keeps you at a far distance.”

I flinch back. “That’s not who I am. I was just trying—”

“To help?” he says, cutting me off. “Thanks, but I think you should direct that energy back onto yourself. I gutted myself over Claire, hoping that maybe it would break the ice between us, but you’ve brushed off not one, but two attempts now at talking about what hurts you the most.”

Anger erupts out of me. “I’m here! I’m trying! I just can’t let it all out as openly as you can. I haven’t even come to terms with everything that’s happened yet. It’s only been a few months, Weldon. Not years. I haven’t had years to stew over what went wrong. I haven’t had time to really grieve my parents, or even try to save them for that matter. I’ve been pushed into this life, losing everyone that I used to know in the process, and I’m doing my best to keep up with it. If you can’t have any patience with me, then I think we’re done here!”

His brow quirks up. “You know what your problem is, Faye? You’re bipolar or something. Everything is all or nothing with you. All anger with no patience, all love with no reasoning, or all fear with no confidence. Maybe if you’d stop letting your emotions drive you, then you could get through the simulation. You could unlock your hidden strengths.” He leans forward. “You could
allow
yourself to be the powerhouse you’re meant to be, rather than the little girl who’s too scared of her own strength to use it.”

“You’re being a jerk,” I say, wishing we could back up to when things were going smoothly.

He leans forward and shrugs his shoulders. “Some say jerk, I say a teller of undesirable truths.”

“How can you be so callous?”

“Callous? That’s a new one.”

Standing up, I head for the door. I don’t want to sit another minute in his presence. He’s impossible.

“Where are you going?” he asks, steps behind me.

I turn on him, pointing my finger in his face. “You want me to open up? Well, here it is. I know exactly who are you. I know exactly how you feel. Different. An outcast. Scared of who you are and what you’re truly capable of. Scared of your mistakes and the ghosts that continually haunt you. I never asked for this power, just like you. And I don’t want to be a murderer because of it, just like you.”

He backs up a step, taking in my words, but I can’t think straight anymore. I can barely see straight I’m so angry, so irritated that it’s come to this once again with him.

“You know, you may think that your walls are so thick that no one can get past them. No one can see just how scared you really are because of all your sarcastic insults, but you don’t fool me, Weldon. You’re just like Jaxen, but more… more pigheaded!”

I reach for the door.

“Wait,” he says.

I keep my back to him, my chest heaving up and down.

“You’re right,” he says, so low I almost can’t hear him. “I don’t like who I am, and it eats me up inside. Every. Single. Day.”

Turning around, I keep my lips pressed together. I owe it to him to listen. I owe it to myself to at least try.

“I hate that I have to drink blood in order to remain strong,” he continues. “I hate that I have to resist the urge to use my demonic powers just so I can feel human again. I hate that I still use them because I’m too weak not to. I hate the monster I turn into, and I hate that my partner is stuck down there, probably being tortured just as I was… or worse.”

His eyes squeeze shuts and he turns his head away from me, cursing under his breath.

“I hate that I can’t control my powers,” I say, offering a small bit of solace. Offering what I promised him. I close my eyes and ignore the ripping, stabbing feeling in my heart. Speak over the choking feeling in my throat. “I hate that when I open myself up to pull from the energy around me, I end up pulling on every life force as well, with no way to shut it off. But what’s worse is I hate how much I enjoy it. How good it feels when their energy fills me. I hate how I want more. I hate that I’m a monster too. I hate that I’m weak too.”

He looks back over at me.

My shoulders drop as the weighty feeling slowly shifts off me. “Clara was right about me. I am damaged. Broken. And I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to control it. I’m a mess.”

His features soften. He smiles. “It seems our demons have a lot in common. Maybe we can fix them up together. One step at a time,” he offers. “Maybe here and now, we can make a pledge to one another that no matter what, we won’t let the other give up or give in. We’ll push each other to stay in control and not fear who we are. Deal?”

“I can do that,” I say, feeling a small sliver of hope. Feeling a large amount of gratitude for the friend that he is.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his golden eyes shining with honesty.

I nod.

“Good,” he says, sounding relieved. “So then trust me when I say that as you get to know me, your life will only get weirder.” He flaunts a huge grin. “Come on, mouse.” He pauses, waiting for my reaction. “It’s a fitting name, don’t you think?”

I cast my eyes to the ceiling.

“Let’s meet the others. I’m sure Jaxen’s chomping at the bit to know how you are and if everything went okay. I swear you have that boy whipped.”

I smile despite myself because he knows Jaxen as well as I do, and he probably is wondering… no… worrying about me.

“Let’s go settle his nerves then,” I say before nudging into him.

J
AXEN’S PRESENCE ALWAYS HAS TH
E
power to steal my breath.

I don’t have to search the weight room to find him. I find him naturally, habitually. His thick hands are wrapped around a bar above him, and his shirt rests on the ground next to him. My mouth nearly drops as he pulls himself up into the air again and again. Every muscle in his back individually ripples and tightens under the strain of his strength. His compacted biceps tighten as his chin crosses the bar pull-up after pull-up. Sweat drips down the hollowed line of his spine and onto the floor beneath him.

My mouth goes impossibly dry. My fingers tingle with a need to touch… to roam every part of his skin. Flashes of his lips on mine, his body pressed against me, spread heat along my skin. I’ve never wanted anyone as badly as I want him. I’ve never wanted to shove away all rationality just so I could lose myself in someone. Just so I could be consumed by fire, heat, and passion. By all the things that drive us to love and be loved back.

I jump when Cassie clears her throat next to me, having to shake my head just to remember where I am. What I’m supposed to be doing.

“Geez, Faye, I think I hear every one of your eggs lining up for fertilization,” Cassie says as she bumps into me with her hip. She’s wearing a playful smile, but it does nothing to stop the fire the licks across each of my cheeks. When she notices, she leans in and says, “My God, you haven’t yet, have you?” with her hand strewn across her heart.