Everdeep (The Night Watchmen Series Book 4) by Candace Knoebel
“Will you stop it?” I shout, sitting up. “I’ve made it very clear to you that I don’t want to talk about it. Why can’t you respect that?”
I see the leaves falling from the green in his eyes. “Because I care about you, and I know this is eating you up inside.”
“And? It’s my pain to deal with. Not yours. We’re hunters, Jaxen. Crying isn’t what we do. We pick up the pieces and keep moving. That’s all we can do.” I pause, and then add, “And not every girl needs a man to hold her and let her cry it out.”
He flinches back. “You know that’s not what’s happening here.”
“No? Then what is happening?”
“I’m trying to be here for you. Just like you were before we got together. Just like you were when my mother showed up.”
“Because that’s what you needed, Jaxen. A friend. A confidant. Someone to help you sort through everything. But I’m not you. I need space. I need time. I need all of you to stop pressuring me to deal with something I’m not ready to deal with yet.”
Jaxen’s looking at me as if he has no idea who I am anymore, and I can’t bear it. I can’t fix it. I turn away from him, feeling heat flush behind my cheeks and eyes.
He doesn’t say anything for a while. Neither do I. We just lay there with so many words unspoken. So many emotions clouding the air between us.
“I miss you,” he finally says when I think he might have drifted off to sleep. “I miss the light in your eyes.”
“So do I,” I say over the lump in my throat.
“I feel like you’re slipping away from me. Like we’re reaching this point where I can’t follow because I don’t know how to, and it’s scaring the hell out of me.”
A tear falls. And then another.
He rolls back toward me and pulls me against him, pressing his lips against mine. I let him kiss me. Let him take from me what I know he needs because I hate that I’m making him feel this way. Hate that he’s scared and I’m just too… too tired to fix it with words.
He runs his hands through my hair, kissing me sweetly. Passionately. Taking his time to tell me how he feels as his loving gaze burns against mine. He rests his forehead against mine, breaking the kiss as he gulps for air.
“Faye,” he says, his voice cracking. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
I press my hand against his beating heart. “You’re not, Jaxen. I just… I need time, okay? I need to figure this out on my own, in my own way.”
He nods, his eyes on mine. “It’s almost… almost as if we switched places. Me asking you to open up, and you holding it all in. Since when did that happen?”
I roll back to the window. Snuggle up against him as I stare at the moon.
“Since the world decided I needed to grow up.”
THE MONITOR NEXT TO OUR bed buzzes as the light from the early morning sun peeks through the curtain.
I wait a moment, thinking Jaxen will get it like he usually does, but it just keeps on buzzing away. Rubbing my burning eyes, I roll and find his section of blankets shoved to the side, the sheets wrinkled from where his body once rested.
He got up without waking me. But where is he?
“Answer,” I say to the ringing monitor.
Mack’s face appears, his eyes bloodshot and his face covered in a shadow of stubble. “Good morning, Faye. I trust you slept well?”
“Sure,” I say, sitting up, smoothing out my white T-shirt.
“And Jaxen?” His eyes shift around the part of the room he can see.
“He’s getting coffee,” I lie.
“Ah, well, then you can pass on the message when he returns. As of two hours ago, we’ve successfully administered a new protective barrier around the city. I’ll be announcing it on the news shortly to the rest of the city, telling them it’s now safe to be on the streets again.”
“That’s great news,” I say, trying my best to sound genuinely relieved.
“I have more for you,” he continues, his face gaining a little color. “Shortly after Weldon brought Nefarum to us, we were able to break him down enough to tell us what he knows about Evelyn’s footage.”
I sit straighter. “And?”
“And although he doesn’t know the actual trigger, he was able to open the drive Weldon brought.”
“So do you know what it is?”
“Well, here’s where it got a little tricky.” His eyes veer to the side. “There was never a trigger word spoken.”
I scratch at my cheek, and then scoot forward. “But that… that doesn’t make any sense.”
“No. Not a first,” he agrees. “But then I got to thinking about it. Of course it wouldn’t be spoken. To speak it would mean that if her program was ever compromised, then it would fall to shambles.”
“So then how?”
He crosses his arms and leans back, seeming at ease and in control. “I believe the trigger is in the footage, but I think it was planted subliminally. Within the images. We have a team of analysts working on it now, frame by frame.” He looks up from the monitor as a woman’s voice says something that sounds muffled, and then looks back at me. “Listen, Seamus wants to meet in his office in two hours. I’ll finish explaining the rest to you then.”
“Okay,” I say, turning from the blank screen.
After changing into sweats, a sports bra, and a black halter top, I head down the stairs, passing the many family pictures left behind from the previous owners. Jaxen wanted to take them down, but I insisted we leave them up. This isn’t our home. It never will be. Treating it like it is feels dishonest.
I want to remember where I am and why I’m here.
Katie and Jaxen’s voices trickle in from the kitchen as I make my way around the corner. They’re talking too low for me to make out what they’re saying, so I stop by the wall that separates us and listen in.
“I know, Katie. I’m just… I’m just worried about her,” Jaxen says, his voice heavy with emotion.
“Me too,” Katie says. “I’ve never seen her like this. I mean, sure, she’s always internalized a lot of her emotions, but this…” She sighs. “I’m afraid what’s happened has changed her in a way that none of us can fix. She hasn’t even visited her father since our return.”
Anger and guilt slice through my stomach. I feel like I’m being punched in the heart, over and over again.
Of course, I’m changed. My mother’s dead. Gone. And there’s nothing I can do to change that. Nothing except destroy the one who took her and so many others away.
“I just wish I knew what to do. I feel almost… helpless. I can’t… I can’t bear the thought of losing her,” Jaxen says.
I turn my back to the wall, leaning my head against it. I want so bad to tell him I love him, that I’m not going anywhere, but I can’t bring myself to because I know that’s a lie. Though I do love him, I can’t guarantee what’s going to happen. Especially now with a Darkyn in the midst.
I round the corner. Glare at Katie’s arms wrapped around Jaxen’s stiff form standing in front of the sink.
“Good morning,” I force out, trying to calm the vibrating waves of hostility coursing through me.
Katie jumps and lets go of Jaxen at once, ears flushed the color of the apples on the table. Spins around saying, “Jeez, Faye. I didn’t even hear you coming.”
“Perks of all that training. Right, Jaxen?” I move past them to the refrigerator and reach for the orange juice, trying to breathe through the fire burning in my stomach. “Mack called. He said we need to meet in two hours at Seamus’ office.” My words are clipped. Too clipped.
“Did they decipher the footage?” Jaxen asks, dumping the pan of scrambled eggs on the serving platter and watching me out the corner of his eyes.
“No,” I reply, grabbing the plate of bacon and setting it on the table. “He said the trigger is embedded in the images. He has a team working on that now.”
“And what about my… aunt?” Katie asks as she takes a seat across from me. Her ey
I inhale, forcing myself to calm down. “Well, I don’t know about the others… but I think I want to hear what she has to say.”
“Faye…” Jaxen starts to say.
I flick a glance in his direction. “Whatever it is must be important if she was willing to risk her life by entering a city she had no right to enter.”
“Or it could be just another trap,” he reminds me, quirking up an eyebrow. “Just like Bael was at the manor. She could be misleading you… using Katie who, by the way, is close to your heart, to bring your defenses down. Luring you out into the open just like last time.”
His words sting like acid poured over my heart.
I stiffen my jaw. Grab a plate from the center of the table and dump a spoonful of eggs onto it. Stab them with a fork. Again and again and again, and then push away from the table.
“Where are you going?” He pushes his chair back, standing with me.
My face tightens. “For a jog. I’m not hungry.”
“But it’s dangerous out there,” Katie says, lips pressed into a slight grimace. “The city—”
“Is fine,” I say over her. “Mack said his barrier is up and running. Just like I want to be.”
Jaxen moves around the table to stand in front of me. “Then I’ll go with you.”
I force my face smooth. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go alone. Get some fresh air before we meet with the others. I won’t be gone long.” I look up into his longing, green eyes, rooting how I feel.
Watching him swallow the need to contest, I ignore the guilt. I need my space. Require it if I want to remain sane.
He tugs at his ear. “Okay,” he says, and then steps out of my way.
I move past him and head for the door, pushing away the urge to tell him to just come. My need to erase the despondent look in his eyes is overpowered by the need to be alone.
I have to get my thoughts in order before I face this day that could possibly change the course of everything.
MY LUNGS ARE GLORIOUSLY ON fire.
I’ve warmed into my stride, enjoying the morning glow that’s breaking through a splotch of muddy clouds, bathing my skin in warmth as my feet carry me toward a mindless destination.
Following the twists and turns the city streets provide, I’m grateful for the quiet emptiness. It helps me bury my worries—all the stress that has been eating me up from the inside out. I don’t want to be anything in this moment. Just a vessel for exertion. Just a body pushing its limits.
If only my delusions could actually be true.
I can’t name the moment I lose myself in my pace, but I do, driving my feet faster until my lungs and muscles are screaming at me to stop. Heartbreak is at my heels. Horror is around every corner. My stride becomes desperate as I push myself harder and harder, wishing I could outrun that moment in the Underground that left a hollow place in my heart. Praying that the next time I close my eyes, I won’t see her face covered in blood again.
The city blurs around me as my thighs excruciatingly tighten and, when I can’t go a second more, I barrel to a stop, hands bracing my thighs as I pull in large gusts of air. Sweat pours down my face, stinging my eyes as everything I tried to outrun catches back up to me.
Even with my eyes open, I see her face. See the blood. See the moment my mother was robbed from me.
I press my hand against my chest where my heart hides, twisting it in the fabric of my hoodie… wishing the awful ache that’s been plaguing me ever since that moment would finally subside. Knowing I’ll never let it because that will mean I’ve finally accepted her death and let her go.
That will never happen.
Standing straight, I stumble back a step when I realize where I’ve taken myself—the sequester. The few who have gathered to picket outside the fence are walking in circles, shouting at the guards. But that’s not all… there, standing yards away from me, is my dad, walking back toward the apartment building where he was stationed by choice, or so I’ve heard.
It’s almost as if he senses me watching him because he stops mid-step and looks my way.
Paralyzed.
That’s how I feel.
“Faye?” I see him mouth.
I turn. Start walking in the opposite direction as his voice grows in strength. He’s moving toward the fence, calling out to me, and it’s the desperation in his voice that stops me. That ties concrete blocks of guilt around my ankles.
“Faye, please. Come back. Talk to me,” he pleads.
Sorrow stings my eyes.
“Baby girl,” he says. “Please don’t walk away from me. I can’t bear it.”
He’s crying now, openly, and my knees begin to wobble. My heart beats rapidly against my chest, begging me to find the nearest hole to hide in. But, for some reason, I don’t. I turn back to him, force my weighted feet forward, and stop at the fence, finding his hands clenched in the links.
“How are you?” he asks as a few tears weasel through the thick stubble lining his cheeks. His face is ghost white, and his cheeks are sunken in. I don’t think he’s had a meal in days.
My lips are trembling. Quivering.
His head tilts a little to the side, eyes heavy with concern. “Oh, baby girl, please. Come inside. Come sit with me.”
I break. Snap right in half.
“Dad,” I manage, looking away from him as I shake my head. “I can’t.” It’s all I can get out through the mound of pain lodged deep in my throat.
We’re standing here, crying. Grieving. Breaking into a thousand irreparable pieces.
“I understand,” he says a moment later, sucking in a breath. He tries to smile, but it’s as shaky as my knees. “But you need to know something.”
I keep my eyes pinned to the many cracks in the concrete, knowing that if I look at him, I’ll be a puddle of tears. A shattered heart piled at his feet.
“This wasn’t your fault. None of it. Her—” His breath catches. “Her death was a choice. A sacrifice gladly made that either of us would have done. She just… she made that choice before I could.”
I choke on my tears, trying to find a calming breath.
His fingers find mine on the fence. Strength pours into me from the contact alone. Suddenly, I don’t want to hide from him anymore. I don’t want to run from the grief that’s been following me from the moment I woke to us running through the Underground.
He follows me, step after urgent step, until I’m at the gate, pushing past the Elite guards and through the small opening they gave me to the other side. His arms are open, and I fall into them as we sink to our knees, holding each other in the middle of the yard for everyone to see.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. To be able to hold my little girl again. We can get through this together, Faye. I promise you. She would want that.” He’s holding the back of my head as I press my forehead against his shoulder.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I admit, wishing my throat would stop aching.
He squeezes me tighter. “Neither did I.”
“She isn’t gone,” Evangeline says from somewhere behind me.
My dad and I stand. Dust ourselves off as we turn to face her.
“Come… I’ve been waiting for you to visit. I have something to show you.”
IT’S A FUNNY THING… LONGING. Desire. Want.
They don’t seclude themselves to any one reason. They aren’t just for romance. Aren’t just flowery words meant to express what another person ignites in you.
They’re complex emotions. Deeply engrained, like scars carved into our veins. They don’t go away, and they aren’t easily appeased. They’re the true definition of pain. Of aching so bad you can barely breathe.
The longing I feel to see her, touch her, and hear her voice just once more could take over all of my rationality if I let it. It’s that consuming—like a sniper sitting in the back of mind, waiting fo
Following Evangeline across the yard makes me think of this. Makes my hands shake at my sides and my heart pound out of sync as I wonder just what she means. As I try to grab onto the strings dangling from the balloons of my hope drifting higher and higher in my mind, lifting me in a way that has fear slamming through my blood for the moment my grip slips and I fall.
Evangeline was given a floor in the same apartment building as my dad. It’s a tall, concrete building that accommodated the Elites-in-training before the fall of the Coven. Smoke stains char the sides of the building and the tops of the windows from a fire that had broken out on the third floor during the Darkyn attack.
There’s no security to get in or out here. No guards except the ones they elected amongst themselves to keep the others safe from the Primeval who still have doubts about their integration.
“We’re on the fifth floor,” Evangeline says as we cross through the glass doors and head through the entryway. Furniture is flipped on its sides, bullet holes peppering the fabric. A few wolves I haven’t seen before kick a ball back and forth between them. They look up as we pass by, their eyes latching onto me in curiosity.
When the elevator dings, my dad and I follow her onto the fifth floor that looks similar to where Jaxen and I stayed during our time here in Ethryeal City. Only, it’s not nearly as loud as it once was.
There’s no happy chattering from Elites-in-training.
Just an endless quiet.
Lukah’s standing closest to the elevator, outside what I assume is his door, foot propped up against the wall. His shaggy, blond hair is pulled back into a bun that sits on the crown of his head. A darker, bronze-colored beard has formed along his jawline. He looks older in a way. More grizzly than before.
The moment his stormy eyes meet mine, they light up in a way I wasn’t expecting. A smirk slowly burns across his lips. “Long time no see. I thought maybe you decided to join the rest of those a-holes out there who like to spend their days picketing against us.”
My dad puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes.
“I’m sorry,” I say, looking at him directly. Making an effort to sound normal. “Me not visiting had nothing to do with any of you. I just…”