Read Online Everlost (The Night Watchmen Series Book 3) by Candace Knoebel - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Candace Knoebel
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standing up with him.
“We’ll be right back,” he says to everyone in the room.
I follow him out the back door and across the backyard.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You’ll see,” he says, pulling on my hand. He takes me to a small shed behind the manor that houses a trap door inside. “Watch your head,” he says as he disappears down the small, steep wooden steps that lead to an underground bunker. I follow him down, waiting by the stairs as he searches for the switch to turn the lights on.
The air in here has an unused, forgotten kind of smell to it, like it’s never known natural light or air. I squint, using the little bits of light filtering in from above, barely making him out a few feet ahead of me.
“I know it’s somewhere here,” he says, sliding his hands up and down the smooth walls.
I join in on the effort and feel my fingers slide over the switch. “Got it,” I say as I flick the lights on. One by one, the fluorescent bulbs mounted on the ceiling flicker on, carrying on further than I thought they could reach.
“What is this place?” I ask as small lights inside of pristine glass weapon cases flicker on, reflecting off the slick metal and steel inside.
“Our family armory,” he says, moving past the tables in the middle of the room holding all sorts of items, half of which I’ve never even seen before. Curved blades. Knuckle weapons that look like tiger claws. Various vials and jars filled with herbs and ingredients for witchcraft.
“I don’t think even the weaponry room back in Ethryeal City has anything on this,” I say, running my thumb over the razor-sharp edge of a Shadowblade—the only blade in existence that can kill a demon indefinitely. It looks exactly like the one I saw in Mack’s Wiccan shop right before we left for Whiskey Hallow. “I can’t believe you have one of these.”
“It’s been in the family for as long as I can remember,” he says, looking back at the blade.
“Didn’t Mack say there was only ten in existence?”
“Yeah,” he says before turning back to wherever he’s headed. He reaches on top of one of the metal cabinets and pulls down a phantom cloth bag. Tosses it to me. “I want you to take a few things with you just in case.”
“Like what? I don’t plan on getting myself into any trouble.”
He stops, turns, and lowers his gaze on me. “Trouble follows you,” he says, though it’s not meant as an insult, but as the truth. And I’m okay with that.
I swallow and look down at the table, wishing that my life were simpler. Easier. Less complicated.
But wishing is for fools.
“I’ll leave the magic stuff up to you as far as any potions you might need, but weapons are my forte.” He grabs a brass knuckle off the table and hands it to me.
“Is that German carved into it?” I ask before sliding them on to make sure it fits. It’s a little loose, but good enough.
“Yeah. One of my great-grandfathers carved an old German proverb into it. Translates to: When there is no enemy, it is safe to fight.”
“When is there not an enemy?”
He half smiles at me, putting a flux, some daggers, and other small hand weapons in the bag.
“Do you really think I’m going to need all of this? We’re only going to talk to the general, and then leave.”
“He could have been lying,” he says, continuing to fill the bag. He looks over at me. “In this business, it’s better to be prepared, than not.”
I sigh and hand him another flux. When he’s satisfied that I have more metal on my person than a robot, we head back upstairs and into the house. Cassie’s at the stove, cooking something that makes my mouth water and my stomach twist with hunger pains. I reach for a fresh roll resting next to her on the counter.
“Hey, not until dinner,” she says a moment too late. The roll is already stuffed halfway into my mouth.
Jaxen reaches into the fridge, pulls out two bottles of water, and then heads through the kitchen door. I
“We’ll be right back,” he says to everyone in the room.
I follow him out the back door and across the backyard.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You’ll see,” he says, pulling on my hand. He takes me to a small shed behind the manor that houses a trap door inside. “Watch your head,” he says as he disappears down the small, steep wooden steps that lead to an underground bunker. I follow him down, waiting by the stairs as he searches for the switch to turn the lights on.
The air in here has an unused, forgotten kind of smell to it, like it’s never known natural light or air. I squint, using the little bits of light filtering in from above, barely making him out a few feet ahead of me.
“I know it’s somewhere here,” he says, sliding his hands up and down the smooth walls.
I join in on the effort and feel my fingers slide over the switch. “Got it,” I say as I flick the lights on. One by one, the fluorescent bulbs mounted on the ceiling flicker on, carrying on further than I thought they could reach.
“What is this place?” I ask as small lights inside of pristine glass weapon cases flicker on, reflecting off the slick metal and steel inside.
“Our family armory,” he says, moving past the tables in the middle of the room holding all sorts of items, half of which I’ve never even seen before. Curved blades. Knuckle weapons that look like tiger claws. Various vials and jars filled with herbs and ingredients for witchcraft.
“I don’t think even the weaponry room back in Ethryeal City has anything on this,” I say, running my thumb over the razor-sharp edge of a Shadowblade—the only blade in existence that can kill a demon indefinitely. It looks exactly like the one I saw in Mack’s Wiccan shop right before we left for Whiskey Hallow. “I can’t believe you have one of these.”
“It’s been in the family for as long as I can remember,” he says, looking back at the blade.
“Didn’t Mack say there was only ten in existence?”
“Yeah,” he says before turning back to wherever he’s headed. He reaches on top of one of the metal cabinets and pulls down a phantom cloth bag. Tosses it to me. “I want you to take a few things with you just in case.”
“Like what? I don’t plan on getting myself into any trouble.”
He stops, turns, and lowers his gaze on me. “Trouble follows you,” he says, though it’s not meant as an insult, but as the truth. And I’m okay with that.
I swallow and look down at the table, wishing that my life were simpler. Easier. Less complicated.
But wishing is for fools.
“I’ll leave the magic stuff up to you as far as any potions you might need, but weapons are my forte.” He grabs a brass knuckle off the table and hands it to me.
“Is that German carved into it?” I ask before sliding them on to make sure it fits. It’s a little loose, but good enough.
“Yeah. One of my great-grandfathers carved an old German proverb into it. Translates to: When there is no enemy, it is safe to fight.”
“When is there not an enemy?”
He half smiles at me, putting a flux, some daggers, and other small hand weapons in the bag.
“Do you really think I’m going to need all of this? We’re only going to talk to the general, and then leave.”
“He could have been lying,” he says, continuing to fill the bag. He looks over at me. “In this business, it’s better to be prepared, than not.”
I sigh and hand him another flux. When he’s satisfied that I have more metal on my person than a robot, we head back upstairs and into the house. Cassie’s at the stove, cooking something that makes my mouth water and my stomach twist with hunger pains. I reach for a fresh roll resting next to her on the counter.
“Hey, not until dinner,” she says a moment too late. The roll is already stuffed halfway into my mouth.
Jaxen reaches into the fridge, pulls out two bottles of water, and then heads through the kitchen door. I
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