Never (The Ever Series Book 2) (25 page)

I start moving again before noticing that we’re walking directly through the grounds of a posh, modern resort—and I look like I just survived a shipwreck. Passing by throngs of tourists lying on deck chairs, I keep my head down, not wanting to pick up any thoughts. We approach the main building, and Ever keeps a firm grip on my hand. The air conditioning is a shocking contrast to the muggy warmth outside. I look to the side and my heart skips a beat when I don’t see Alex. He reappears seconds later holding a gift shop bag and wearing a completely different outfit, one more appropriate for a tropical vacation.

“Decided to go shopping?”

“What can I say? When in the Maldives.”

A woman behind the counter gasps. Looking down, I realize that even though my foot is healed the remaining traces of blood are being tracked across the impeccable cream tiles of the lobby. Ever begins pulling me along faster, and when we reach the front of the hotel, he hails a taxi and opens the door for me. By the time I’ve scooted to the middle seat, Alex is already on my other side. Ever says something in a completely unfamiliar language to the driver whose eyes snap to the rearview mirror. I figure it’s a shock for him to come across a tall, blonde, golden-skinned tourist speaking his native language perfectly.

“We’re exposing her,” Alex says grimly.

Ever gives him a sideways glance but says nothing, and I suddenly feel like I’m in the middle of my parents’ divorce all over again, which is slightly hilarious considering my company. When I laugh, Ever’s mouth curls up in a half smile.

“I feel like I’m with my parents,” I smirk for Alex’s benefit.

“And I do enjoy your sense of humor, Ms. Sullivan,” he says.

But thinking of my parents causes anxiety to well in my chest again, and my smile fades. I’m across the world from them, running away from something I don’t even understand.

“Can I call them? Let them know I’m safe?”

I frown. What would I tell them I’m doing, though? Vacationing on the Indian Ocean?

“It’s best that no one knows where you are,” Ever says gently.

“But what if I don’t get another chance?” I whisper, trying to hold back a fresh round of tears.

“You will, Wren. I promise you.”

I see the international symbol for airport, and less than a minute later, the cab has stopped at the curb in front of the terminal. There’s a wooden sign with yellow lettering that says
Departures
. Beside it is more text in a language I’ve never seen. Ever takes my hand as I step out of the cab, and Alex follows after me rather than exiting on the other side. When we walk through the sliding doors, the interior of the airport is the same as other airports I’ve been in. Ticketing counters, fluorescent lighting, scuffed white-tiled floors, drop ceiling. I catch a glimpse of a sign that says
Malé International Airport
as we begin walking quickly through the terminal. Suddenly the ground beneath us shifts violently, catching me off balance and causing Ever and Alex to freeze.

“
There
.”

I look at Alex and then follow his gaze to a tourist sitting in the middle of a bank of seats. Everyone around us is screaming or diving for cover, but this man is staring at us with unusual interest. For a second, I think it’s just because of Ever and Alex’s appearance. Then my breath hitches as I notice the unnatural coal black of his eyes.

Ever’s hand is raised, and I turn in time to see a shockwave hit the man squarely in the chest. When he gasps and blinks, his eyes are suddenly ordinary and brown again.

“What’s happening—”

I stop and look in the direction that both Ever and Alex are staring, watching in fascination as the lights at the far end of the terminal begin going out row by row, and then relighting. Finally my eyes focus on the four approaching figures whose presence seems to be
causing
the electrical failure. Even from here, I can tell there’s something off about them.

They aren’t human.

“Take her,” Ever says to Alex, his jaw clenched. “Keep her safe even if that’s your last act in this world.”

He looks down at me, and my eyes widen with panic.

“What?
No
!”

Alex grasps my arm and starts pulling me, and I struggle violently.

“We can’t leave him here! Let go.”

“Wren!” Alex snaps. “If I shift with you, I may not be able to stop. I need you conscious and alert, not dazed and vomiting. Now
move
.”

I begin running, but more because Alex has such a tight grip on me that I’m afraid he might take my arm off if I stop. With the turmoil in the airport, we’re able to slip through an unmarked door and begin winding down a hallway. Suddenly something inside me cracks, and I feel like I could just lie down right here and wait for them to take me. Seeming to sense my meltdown, Alex turns and looks at me.

“If you’re worried about your boyfriend, there’s clearly a great deal you don’t know about him,” he says before kicking in another closed door.

A second later we’re outside on the airfield. It’s raining, but I can still see the setting sun.

“Are you ready to steal a plane for real this time?” he asks.

From the souvenir bag he’s been carrying, he produces a pair of canvas shoes and hands them to me one at a time to put on. Wearing shoes, I’m able to run fast enough so that Alex doesn’t find it necessary to carry me, and we reach the far end of the airfield without anyone noticing. At a small propeller plane, Alex opens the passenger-side door and hoists me inside. Then I watch as he does nothing more than touch the side of the plane, and the propeller starts spinning. As the plane begins moving, I look back toward the main airport terminal, letting out a yelp when I see black smoke rising from the building.

“We have to go back!” I scream.

“And what would you do?” Alex asks calmly as our tiny plane takes off into the air. “Die for love, I suppose?”

We’re already out over the crystal clear blue-green water, and suddenly I’m numb. I stare out the window at the sun’s copper rays shooting out from the cloud cover.

“I tried the self-sacrifice thing once,” I mumble toward the glass. “You messed it up.”

Alex starts laughing, and I turn and give him a sharp look.

“Yes, it was unforgivable of me not to auction off your soul but rather to fall in love with you.”

He stops laughing, and suddenly I’m livid.

“You don’t get to say that!” I snarl. “You don’t know what love is. You have no idea what it is to feel something for someone other than yourself!”

“And you’re such an expert after sixteen years of human existence?”

“I know more than you do, apparently!”

“Then you must have forgotten our kiss.”

I turn away from him as my cheeks go up in flames remembering his lips parting mine.

“Or maybe you haven’t forgotten.”

I
hate
him.

A
jolt wakes me, and I wince as I raise my head. The crick in my neck is monstrous. I lift my hand to massage it until I can finally hold my head upright without pain.

“Welcome to
Tierra del Fuego
.”

Glancing out the window, I realize we’ve landed. The tiny plane bumps along the rudimentary runway. Or maybe it’s a road. I can’t tell. The sun is low in the sky, and despite Alex’s last comment, I have no idea where we are or how much time has passed. I desperately need a normal night of sleep.

“And
where
exactly is that?”

“Near the border of Chile and Argentina. Soon we’ll be at the edge of Antarctica.”

“Are you kidding?” I gasp.

He shakes his head.

“And we got to South America in this tiny thing? With what fuel?”

He glances at me like I should know.

“Ever hasn’t told you a thing, has he?” he scoffs.

I bristle.

“Right! Like I’ve had
so
much free time lately to ask questions about things not pertaining to survival!”

He reaches out and touches me, and I feel a jolt.

“We are fully functional as our own energy cells. Unlike you humans, we don’t require endless external fuel sources to propel machinery. We
are
the fuel.”

He shoves a bottle of water and prepackaged food of some sort into my hands. Frowning, I try to calculate how many calories I’ve had since the dance. Not enough, that much I know. The food is salty and otherwise devoid of taste, but I’m starving—again—so I don’t care. We hit a rut in the ground just as I try taking a sip of water, and the plane comes to an unceremonious stop.

“What are we doing here?”

“Keeping you safe, remember?”

“And Ever?” I whisper.

“I imagine
he
is keeping my old comrades entertained.”

For the moment, I choose to believe him—that Ever is okay—or I would go crazy.

“What does
Tierra del Fuego
mean, anyway?” I ask absently.

“The Land of Fire.”

He gestures into the distance, and I’m instantly mesmerized by the orange glow quickly disappearing behind the mountains. Shafts of light are shooting up like they’re holding the clouds up in the sky.

This is the third sunset I’ve seen in rapid succession, and I’m beginning to wonder if being with these immortals has altered my sense of time. It seems like everything has sped up, allowing me to see more of the world in the brief time I’ve known Ever than during the rest of my life combined. If it turns out I’m going to die soon, I guess that’s a good thing. But instead of a world of beautiful landscapes, I would rather see the people I care about one last time.

That’s when it hits me: I’m never going to see my mom again, after the terrible things I said to her. And, even worse, what if Ever and Alex were wrong, and I’m still putting her—and everyone else I know—in danger?

What then?

Even if this assembly of immortals
can
protect me indefinitely, what is my life worth on the run? And what if Alex is lying again? My eyes shift in his direction. What if they
can
die, or cease to exist? What if something has happened to Ever—and that’s why he didn’t follow us? Am I staying alive now only so that one side doesn’t gain an advantage? Have I always been the pawn? I bury all of my questions and fears deep down, because if I don’t, they will paralyze me, and I need to survive to see the people I love, to make sure they’re okay.

Suddenly Alex is at my door, helping me to the ground. It’s freezing outside, and I look down at my loose-fitting jeans, T-shirt, and canvas shoes. Alex begins hurrying me toward a waiting all-terrain vehicle parked near a clump of trees at the edge of the road.

“Get in. Before you freeze,” he scolds like it’s my fault I’m human and susceptible to things like extreme temperatures.

He lifts me into the passenger seat and appears on the driver’s side almost immediately. When he turns on the heat full blast, I lean forward and hold my hands against the vents.

“How delicate you creatures are,” he sighs.

I smirk.

“My humble apologies.”

“You should sleep.”

I look around at the surrounding forest. Even in the fading light, it is spectacular.

“Sure, and wake up on another continent? No thanks. … Wait a second. How did you manage to get a vehicle dropped off on a dirt road miles from anywhere?”

“Never underestimate the power and influence of money.”

“Right.”

The vehicle pulls out onto the road, and suddenly I wish that I could have visited some of these places when I wasn’t afraid for my life. But that’s the twist, I guess. If my life weren’t in danger, I never would have seen these things. As blackness descends, I search for some sign that things will turn out all right, but there isn’t any. I don’t say anything else to Alex, choosing to stare out the window until city lights eventually emerge out of the darkness. The vehicle winds up through some hills, and when we come to a stop, I see the exterior of a building made up of stone walls. There are double doors at the center and a sign. It’s a hotel. I glance at Alex, and he gestures to a giant duffle bag in the back.

“No sense in making a spectacle of ourselves.”

He pulls a coat from the back and puts it on. As soon as he gets out and closes the door behind him, I climb over the seat and reach into the bag and pull out a parka. The bag is packed with an assortment of gear and miscellaneous clothing. When I’m dressed less like a fugitive or kidnapping victim, I get out, and Alex takes the bag. I follow him toward the building’s glass doors.

“What are we doing here?”

“Eating, sleeping … human inconveniences. Or would you prefer a sleeping bag in freezing weather with only me for comfort?” he asks mildly.

We walk through the wood-framed glass doors and across the tiled floors toward the front desk. Before we reach it, Alex points to some chairs at the periphery of the reception area. I don’t argue, knowing that my presence at the front desk will only raise questions. I see Alex take out two passports and the same type of monstrous black credit card that Audra paid for her dress with. A minute later, he rejoins me, and I get up and follow him through the lobby. At another corridor, we walk all the way to the end, and Alex opens the last door. He gestures for me to go in after him. I’ve only taken a few steps when I stop, my eyes locking onto the large—solitary—bed in the room.

“Uh … do you have your own room?”

“You’ll be the only one sleeping, remember?” Alex says coming in and setting the bag next to the bed.

I swallow. This doesn’t reassure me much.

“And you’ll be doing—what? Watching me sleep?”

“Yes, but first I’ll be watching you eat.”

He walks over to the phone by the bed and makes a brief phone call in Spanish or Portuguese. The conversation is too brief for me to guess which one.

“Your last meal in civilized human society will be served whenever you wish.”

My heart thumps in my chest. I’m too scared to even ask about the next phase of this race across the world.

“Mind if I shower first?”

He holds his hand out.

“Please.”

I slink off to the bathroom, relieved to find a robe hanging on the door. In addition to the shower, there’s a jetted tub. Ignoring the temptation, I strip down and turn on the shower, focusing on the task at hand. I wash my hair, which is stiff from my impromptu dive into the ocean, and then I scrub off any remaining grit and sand.

At any second, I keep expecting to wake up. After seeing Ever sitting and watching me sleep at my dad’s house—something I had been sure was a dream—anything is possible. I figure this could be one of those dreams that seems to go on for days, but after you wake up, you can only remember tiny fragments of what seemed epic. Everything that was my reality has fallen so far off the map that all I can do now is hope that my absence is keeping everyone safe. To hope for survival or that I’ll see Ever again—to hope for a happy ending—is too risky.

Getting out of the shower, I comb through my hair with my fingers and use the blow dryer since I have no hair ties. When I open the bathroom door, I peek out and see Alex staring out the window. His clothing is different, and he looks unreasonably perfect after flying across the world. I step quietly out of the bathroom, and for a second or two, I think I can make it to the bag next to the bed without him noticing.

But as I tiptoe out, he turns. I blush. There’s a blouse and a skirt already laid out on the bed. Suddenly an irrational flash of anger hits me when I think of the dress he bought me for the dance, the clothing he left for me in France. … Does he think I’m his doll? I stop and take a deep breath, remembering that I wouldn’t have any clothes at all right now if it weren’t for him. I might not be alive if it weren’t for him. And for better or worse, he may be the only thing standing between me and eternal possession. On the other hand, he’s also the whole reason I’m in this mess.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

He nods, and I retreat quickly back into the bathroom. When I come out again, he motions to the door, and we walk back toward the lobby. As we reach a large room with dining tables and chairs, he gestures toward a table along the glass. We are the only ones here. He holds out my chair, and I sit down and look out into the darkness and then back at him.

“What time is it?”

“Nearly one,” he says without consulting a clock.

“Of course it is,” I mutter. “Don’t you think the staff minds serving dinner this late?”

“I highly doubt it. They are being well compensated.”

“Wait, now I remember. Money fixes everything.”

I turn again and look out at the large bay that’s barely visible in the moonlight. When I look back at Alex, he’s studying a man approaching our table. His expression is apprehensive, and I start feeling nervous that I’m about to come face to face with another pair of black, empty eyes. Alex’s posture abruptly relaxes, and he turns back to me as the man hands us both menus before departing. I look down at the unfamiliar text—Portuguese? Spanish? Both?

“What do you feel like having for a final repast, young human?”

I shake my head wearily.

“How did you pretend to be somewhat normal for an entire week?”

“It was exhausting, truly. Now humor me.”

“What’s on the menu?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “What would you like?”

With a sigh, I give up trying to expect any decorum from him.

“Seafood, vegetables. Is that specific enough?”

He nods, and when the man returns with water, Alex has a brief conversation with him that I’m hoping will result in food.

“Is Ever meeting us here?” I ask when our server leaves again.

He shakes his head.

“No.”

“Then what are we doing here?”

“A small change in the plan.”

“Oh, good. There is a plan, then,” I mutter acerbically. “What a relief. Any chance it involves me going back home at any point? Normal human life?”

“I highly doubt that you, Ms. Sullivan, have ever had a normal human life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He leans forward.

“Have you ever in your entire existence felt
normal
?”

I blush as I remember dozens of moments across my lifetime when I felt a little bit
off
.

“No. Never. Not completely,” I answer honestly.

“Then why would you want to return to a life that has made you feel as though you didn’t belong?”

The question catches me off guard, and I don’t say anything. Then my food arrives, and the man smiles and begins saying something. I smile apologetically and try to tell him I don’t understand when Alex speaks.

“Calamari in a white wine stew, fresh gnocchi, and mussels with butter, garlic, onions, and fresh oregano, served with a side of sautéed vegetables,” he translates.

I take a bite and smile. After eating nothing but prepackaged food—and not much of it—I feel like I’ve reached utopia.

“Oh,
wow
. It’s amazing.”

Alex says something that causes the man to grin widely before leaving us. I’m so intent on my meal that I don’t notice right away that Alex is watching me, and suddenly I remember that the last time I sat across from him in a restaurant—in France—I had wanted to kill him. Now I don’t know how to feel.

“You make me regret having no use for food,” he says ruefully.

I pause.

“I think I would miss eating, even if it weren’t necessary.”

“Yes, I suppose I’ve come to envy a great many oddities of being human, food being only one of them.”

Something in the way he says this makes me blush, and I focus all of my energy on enjoying what might be my last good meal. By the time I’ve finished the last bite, I feel like I could sleep forever. When the man returns to the table, I smile again, wishing I could explain how wonderful the food was. I think he gets the point, though, since I’ve eaten every last bite and look like I’m ready to drift off right here at the table. Alex appears behind me and pulls out my chair. As we begin walking back to the room, my adrenaline spikes when I remember the last conversation I had with my dad—about spending the night at a
friend
’s house.