Never (The Ever Series Book 2) (7 page)

Chasen has followed us inside, and Audra arrives from another part of the house I’ve yet to see. Moments later Alistair appears out of thin air. The only member of the group missing is Persephone.

“Persephone is watching your mother,” Ever says.

I nod. This makes me feel a little bit better, but I still feel a flare of anxiety about my friends. Ashley being used as a pawn was my fault, and with a sinking sensation I realize that I’m still putting everyone at risk. Audra hisses suddenly, and I spin around and see Alex at the opposite side of the room.

“Shall we test the extent of your immortality?” she asks, stepping forward menacingly.

Ever raises a hand.

“I’ve invited him here.”

I blink, remembering the millisecond Ever wasn’t in my presence before we left my house. It was exactly a millisecond—for me—but it must have been enough time for him to seek out Alex.

“Why?” Audra asks with distaste.

“Because I expect he has brought hell down upon us.”

I stare back and forth between them, trying to make sense of what Ever just said. These immortal creatures are fierce and beautiful, but Ever said they were not angels, so by
hell
, I understand him to mean something really, really
bad
, just not in any sort of biblical sense.

“As the end neared, you became greedy, didn’t you?” Ever continues, his attention directed at Alex. “At long last, you wanted something for yourself. … And now they’ve come to collect what you thought you were owed.”

I watch as Alex’s features transform from defiant to resigned in an instant.

“They’ve found her,” Alex says.

It isn’t a question. It’s a statement. And they’re talking about me. I want to scream and demand answers from the five of them, especially since I seem to be the main topic of conversation again. An eerie numbness starts to take over.

“Does anybody feel like erasing my memory and sticking me back at my house to get eaten by whatever’s coming?”

Chasen laughs, and I look behind me.

“No way,” he says cheerfully. “You’re too much fun.”

“Aww, you need a pet?” I ask, eyes narrowed.

He laughs even harder, and I finally crack a smile.

“I’m glad the two of you find this so amusing!” Audra says caustically.

“Amusing? You haven’t even told me what I’m supposed to be so afraid of! Anybody care to clue me in?”

Alistair, who’s been watching us calmly, gestures for me to sit on the sofa.

“Wren, first, it’s good to see you again. I only wish it were under better circumstances.”

He smiles, and I feel surprisingly calmed by his presence. I can’t figure out how he manages to seem so fatherly at such a young age. That’s when I remember that looks are deceiving.

“I told you when we met that we are not of this dimension,” Alistair says.

I nod even though I don’t think I was truly able to absorb that fact until I stepped
through
a mirror.

“However, that may have been an oversimplified accounting of our history,” he continues carefully. “You see, our dimension had become inhospitable when a small number of us discovered that we could transcend the barrier into your world. We escaped and took refuge in this dimension, and eventually we were able to foresee what would result in the most evolved species—humans. Taking form, we began to integrate ourselves into human society as necessary.”

He stops, but even if I can’t read his mind, I know this isn’t the end of the story.

“As your species increased in number, a few began to exhibit traits that we initially assumed were exclusive to our own kind. These individuals’ minds could see more, sense more. And they saw us in greater detail than those around them could.”

His brow furrows, and I take an uneven breath. I knew I was in too deep to go back moments after Ever told me he wasn’t human, but as another layer is peeled away, I feel myself spinning millions of miles away from everything I took as fact, things my parents told me when I was young to make me feel safe in the world.

There are no ghosts. There are no monsters under the bed. The dark shape I saw from the corner of my eye that disappeared when I turned—it was nothing. There is nothing coming out of the darkness to get me.

The truth is that they just didn’t know.

“We befriended many of them and helped them adjust to their new reality. Then, over time, as superstition and religions began to evolve, many of them were persecuted, or believed themselves possessed by evil, and they went mad.”

I shudder, remembering Ever telling me pieces of this. Born in another time, I could have been burned as a witch or tried as a heretic. I’m sure it could probably still happen if the wrong people found out about me.

“We had witnessed humans being channeled by those from other dimensions, but only very briefly,” Alistair continues. “The beings possessing them had no hold in this world and would quickly slip back. Then, the first like you was taken,
truly
possessed by something of our dimension.”

“It sounds like you’re talking about demons …
Hell
—literally,” I mutter.

He nods.

“This is perhaps where some of Christian mythology is rooted. It wouldn’t be unusual for you to understand it as such. These possessed individuals posed a very real threat, not only to us but our adopted world as well.”

“And you fought back,” I whisper.

“And we were betrayed,” Ever says.

I look over at Alex.
Iago
. The traitor.

“B
etrayed,” I repeat, still staring at Alex.

“Wren, if you believe you’ll find a hero among us, you will not,” he counters defensively. “Your company here has spent human history annihilating those like you.”

“And I never said I was looking for a hero,” I snap back. “I’m looking for the truth. Now, will someone fill me in?”

“Wren, our world, when we left it, was nearly desiccated,” Alistair says. “There were those who believed their excess could go on infinitely with no regard for resources or consequences. They were wrong.”

“Did everyone left behind …
die
. Or are they like you—immortal?”

“Their existence changed, but it did not end,” Alistair says.

“Which means, what?”

“Those who did not cross over to your world remain trapped. They can see into this dimension, but they cannot inhabit it without a vessel.”

I swallow. A vessel. He means
me
.

“So they’re stuck in limbo, then?” I ask.

“Essentially, yes,” he nods.

“So, what I saw was something trapped on the other side—using that guy on the trail as a puppet?” I’m beginning to feel sick. I lean forward. “And that’s what these things want to do with me?”

“
Alex
should be able to answer that better than any of us,” Ever says. “He’s been trading in human lives long enough to know.”

“And how is that any worse than your solution?” Alex snaps back.

I look over at him in horror.

“I can answer that! I would rather be dead than have my existence hijacked!”

Feeling Ever’s hand on my shoulder, I try to slow my breathing.

“What matters now is that we keep Wren out of danger,” Alistair says in a diplomatic tone.

“Um, no offense, but you guys can’t put me on ice for the next millennium until this whole thing blows over. Who knows if I’ll thaw properly …”

Alistair smiles, and Chasen chuckles again, causing Audra to shoot him another icy look.

“I think it’s best for now if we disrupt Wren’s life as little as possible,” Alistair continues. “This could have been an isolated occurrence. We won’t know—”

“Until they take her?” Ever asks incredulously.

“Not on my watch,” Chasen says with a little too much glee for my taste. “I’ve always wanted a pet.”

I smirk.

“Well, that works out. … I’ve always wanted a guard dog.”

Chasen’s eyes narrow for a second, but he quickly nods and laughs.

“Touché.”

“Chasen is correct,” Alistair says. “It will require all six of us, two with Wren at all times.”

My cheeks redden.

“That’s going to make showering difficult,” I blurt, not able to help myself.

Chasen begins laughing again when Audra cuts him off with another deadly look.

“
Six
of us?” she seethes. “Alistair, have you forgotten that
he
was the one who caused all of this?”

I frown, unsure if she’s referring to Ever—for not killing me in the first place—or Alex—for leading who knows what here. When I see her staring at Alex, that answers my question.

“I have to agree … ,” Ever begins.

I look up at him and think:
Keep your enemies closer
.

“… with Alistair,” he finishes.

I look around at each of the perfect figures in the room and then reach over and touch Alistair’s hand.

“Thank you, all of you …”

…
for caring whether I live or die
, I don’t add.

With nothing left to say, I get up and make my way toward the front of the house. Ever joins me a few moments later, and when we get into his car, he touches my cheek.

“Why do you feel guilty?” he asks curiously.

“I just wish I weren’t the cause of all this.”

He studies me and then laughs.

“A stranger from another dimension comes here to kill you, falls in love with you, upends your life—and you feel like you’re inconveniencing
us
?”

I shrug.

“It’s just weird, everyone standing around talking about me. Honestly, I never liked my own birthdays as a kid. It always felt wrong being the center of attention. Like, why would people celebrate
my
birthday? I guess I still feel that way.”

“You shouldn’t,” Ever says as we turn onto the main road.

When my phone buzzes, I look down. It’s a text from my mom saying that she’s ordering pizza. I write her back saying I’m starving.

“Would you like to spend some time alone with her?” Ever asks.

I nod. Then something catches my eye in the rearview mirror. Headlights. Ever looks over at me, clearly less than pleased.

“A necessary evil,” he says.

Alex
.

“Great.”

As soon as the car glides to a stop in front of my house, I see a red streak tear by us. It sounds like exactly what it is—a high performance racecar being driven way too fast by a reckless driver. Ever gets out, and I laugh in confusion when it takes a normal human amount of time for him to come around to my side, which gives me time to get out and give him a wry look.

“You know, that might be the second time I’ve gotten the door open by myself,” I tease him.

Then I notice he’s looking up toward the house. I turn and see Mr. Hannigan standing on his front steps looking mystified. He waves eagerly.

“Hi, Mr. Hannigan.”

“How are you, Wren? You know, I used to fly jets before your mother was even born, and I could have sworn I heard one just now. My old ears are playing tricks on me! Did you kids see anything a few moments ago?”

“Just a Ferrari,” Ever says, his features completely deadpan.

I look over at him sharply before Mr. Hannigan laughs, his features crinkling.

“Very funny, young man. You nearly had me going there for a minute. Wren, you say hello to your mother for me.”

I smile weakly and wave.

“I will.”

I wave again as Mr. Hannigan turns to go back inside, and when he shuts his front door behind him, I give Ever a look.

“
Just a Ferrari
,” I say in a poor imitation of Ever’s cadence.

He smiles.

“He never would have believed it.”

We start walking toward the house, and I see the curtain shift.

“What does she think we’re going to do in front of the entire neighborhood that she has to check up on us?” I huff.

Ever takes my face in his hands.

“Maybe this?”

He bends down, and my heart races like it does every time he looks at me that way. Suddenly he stops and straightens to his full height. The sound of someone clearing his throat makes me cringe and spin around.

“Don’t mind me,” Alex says from where he’s standing on the sidewalk.

Glaring, I turn and rise up on my toes to kiss Ever before hurrying up the stairs. Unlocking the door, I step inside and stare suspiciously at my mom.

“Great timing! I was just about to pick up the pizza. … Hey, where’s your boyfriend?” she asks innocently.

Right. Like she wasn’t just peering out the window. I’m just hoping that she didn’t see Alex, the creepy voyeur.

“He couldn’t stay.”

“Not even for pepperoni?” she asks.

“I guess not.”

“You want to come with?”

“Actually, I’ve got homework. But I can get most of it done before you get back,” I promise.

“So studious on a Friday,” she says.

More like so
human
, I think.

When she grabs her purse from the front table, I kiss her on the cheek and start climbing the stairs. Within a few short minutes, Algebra 2 has landed me squarely in the mortal plane of existence. I tap the book and squint at the problem, annoyed by my faulty math gene.

Graph
:

x
2
+ y
2
= 25

3x - 4y = 0

Based on the example in the book, I know that the coordinates are going to form a circle, but this fails to inspire a wellspring of excitement in me. Every problem takes me way longer than it should, but I finally finish with a glimmer of hope that my answers won’t elicit scorn from Mr. Bellarmine. Next, I move on to my English assignment. We’re supposed to choose two poems by the same poet, analyze them, and draw correlations. I can’t help thinking that if everything is inspired by the poet’s thoughts and feelings, then how am I supposed to know what the person intended? I mean, seriously. Someone a hundred years ago writes something, and everybody thinks they know what it’s about. Probably not.

I flip through my anthology of nineteenth century American poets. I’ve already chosen mine: Edgar Allan Poe. But I’m not doing
The Raven
. Instead, I’m focusing on two that referenced dreams and death. The beginning of the first selection is appropriately titled
Dreams
.

Oh! That my young life were a lasting dream!

My spirit not awakening, till the beam

Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.

I feel a chill run through me. As I read the rest of the poem, I’m reminded that Poe’s words have nothing to do with me or my life, but they still rattle around in my head, reminding me of my mortality.

Do I regret turning down Ever’s offer of immortality? I shake my head, answering my own question. I don’t want to die before my seventeenth birthday, but I’m also not ready to trade my humanity before I’ve had a chance to live. Besides, at what cost? Ever didn’t get around to telling me the consequences. And there is always a price. Risk and reward for every choice. My mom told me that when I was hesitant to join the cross country team.
I’m slow
, I told her. Her response was:
You’ll get better. Take a risk and see what happens.

And she was right. Me, Wren Sullivan, the girl who hated sports and got knocked unconscious by a soccer ball in elementary school, ended up loving running. I look across the room at the pair of running shoes I hastily abandoned before Ever and I left the house. There is no way I’m letting this immortal feud derail my plans to keep running.

When I hear my mom’s car in the driveway, I get up and stretch my legs. Edgar Allan Poe will have to wait before I make any more amateurish guesses about his fascination with dreams and dying. Bounding down the stairs, I swing open the door before my mom can put her key in the lock. As soon as she walks in, I swipe the box from her.

“I’m starving!”

“Good. Because I thought you’re boyfriend was coming over, so I ordered an extra large—and a salad.”

“That’s very nutritionally conscious of you,” I smile.

“So? Where is Ever tonight?”

I look at her as we walk into the kitchen. She’s thinking about how he’s always around. It’s not that she doesn’t like him, but she
is
getting a little nervous about how much time I’m spending with him. It’s probably for the best that he didn’t stay. I grab utensils, plates, and bowls from the cupboard and pour us both sparkling water before joining her at the table.

“Um, family stuff, I think.”

Lying about Ever is getting easier and easier. I comfort myself by remembering that the less my mom knows, the safer she’ll be. I hoist an enormous slice of deliciously oily pizza onto my plate. It’s from the same place I went with Ashley, Lindsay, and Taylor—cheesy décor, but great pizza. By the time I’m mid-way through my third piece, I’ve caught my mom up on everything I can, which excludes any immortal-related activities.

After we’ve cleared the table and wrapped up the leftover pizza, I head upstairs to finish my homework. When I’m finished, I pack my backpack and go down the hall to brush my teeth, trying not to think too much about what I learned from Alistair and what could be hunting me. Stopping by my mom’s room to say goodnight, I smile and wave when I see she’s on the phone. Back in my room, I crawl into bed with my poetry anthology. Opening it, I glance at the other poem I’m doing.
Spirits of the Dead
. Very cheerful.

Thy soul shall find itself alone

’Mid dark thoughts of the gray tomb-stone—

Not one, all of a crowd, to pry

Into thine hour of secrecy

I sigh heavily. Poe definitely had his issues; it’s probably what made him such a great poet. It’s not like I don’t have issues of my own, but that’s not going to make me a great poet. I write a few sentences for the paper and then get up and put the book in my bag. When I hear a gentle tapping at my door, it creaks open and my mom pokes her head in.