Read Online Never (The Ever Series Book 2) by C. J. Valles - Free Book Online
Authors: C. J. Valles
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around. There’s not another person crazy enough to be out.
When he drove me home earlier, Ever’s expression was apprehensive, probably in part because my thoughts have been going offline so often. Plus, I was very careful to be evasive about my non-conversation with Alex at the beginning of the lunch period. My newfound privacy is a little strange, though, since the only way to achieve it is to think hard about my boyfriend’s sworn enemy. It’s hard not to feel guilty about that.
Slowing down as I reach the path’s mile marker, I figure I’ve reached my limit for self-inflicted punishment. I walk for several seconds before starting into a slow trot, wheezing a bit as I go. The trees lining either side of the path, unlike the evergreens behind our house, don’t have any leaves yet. And in the gray light, the bare branches have a grim, haunting appearance. My mind jumps to Snow White racing through the dark forest, the trees coming alive and tearing at her clothing.
Remembering childhood nightmares of the reaching trees, I shudder and jog faster until the path curves. I can see the turnoff leading to my street, but there’s a figure in a hooded sweatshirt approaching. My heart jumps in my chest, and I slow down, thinking one thing: the man with the Red Bull and cigarettes from the grocery store parking lot when my mom’s car had died. At the time, I remember thinking it was luck that Ever had appeared only moments after the man began approaching me.
Shaking off my fear, I force myself to keep going. It can’t be the same guy. It just can’t. When I’m about twenty feet away from him, I feel silly. The man up ahead is heavier and has graying hair. I’m about to pass him when he turns suddenly and smiles widely, his eyes coal black.
Unable to stop myself, I squeak in terror. Then the man blinks, confusion clouding his brown eyes. It doesn’t matter. I’m already sprinting, my breath coming in jagged bursts. My muscles have no oxygen left, but I keep pushing them. A second later, I run headlong into Ever, who just appeared in front of me on the trail. When I look up, his expression mirrors my panic.
“His eyes,” I gasp.
I said the same thing when I first saw Alex, knowing that something was very wrong the second I saw his eyes. Looking up at Ever, I remember with sudden clarity the dream I had before I woke up in France. The furious angel: it was Ever’s face that I kept seeing over and over, even when I didn’t remember who he was. His features now look the same as they did in my dream.
Beautiful and enraged.
When we get back to my house, I don’t even argue when he tells me we have to leave. Sitting in the passenger seat of his car, I stare out the window and watch as the rain picks up and begins sheeting against the darkened glass. Even after Ever promises me that he’ll bring me home later in the evening—no matter what—I still feel a nagging sense of guilt. My mom doesn’t get home early from work very often, and now I’m running away and leaving her there. I called and left her a message saying that I would be out with Ever—true—and will be home later—also true. Of course, I didn’t mention in the message that I saw a possessed person on the walking path less than a mile from our house. But I did make Ever promise that someone would be watching over her.
Despite the failing light, I recognize the cadence of the turns in the road telling me that we’re getting closer to Ever’s house. The last time I was here seems like a lifetime ago. As soon as we reach the end of the unpaved, unmarked road to the house, the car glides to a stop and Ever immediately pulls me from the passenger seat. Chasen is standing out front with his arms crossed in what I’ve come to think of as his permanent post.
As we pass through the entryway, I don’t have time to appreciate the art on the walls that I noticed last time. We walk into the living room, and my déjà vu resurfaces at the sight of the
When he drove me home earlier, Ever’s expression was apprehensive, probably in part because my thoughts have been going offline so often. Plus, I was very careful to be evasive about my non-conversation with Alex at the beginning of the lunch period. My newfound privacy is a little strange, though, since the only way to achieve it is to think hard about my boyfriend’s sworn enemy. It’s hard not to feel guilty about that.
Slowing down as I reach the path’s mile marker, I figure I’ve reached my limit for self-inflicted punishment. I walk for several seconds before starting into a slow trot, wheezing a bit as I go. The trees lining either side of the path, unlike the evergreens behind our house, don’t have any leaves yet. And in the gray light, the bare branches have a grim, haunting appearance. My mind jumps to Snow White racing through the dark forest, the trees coming alive and tearing at her clothing.
Remembering childhood nightmares of the reaching trees, I shudder and jog faster until the path curves. I can see the turnoff leading to my street, but there’s a figure in a hooded sweatshirt approaching. My heart jumps in my chest, and I slow down, thinking one thing: the man with the Red Bull and cigarettes from the grocery store parking lot when my mom’s car had died. At the time, I remember thinking it was luck that Ever had appeared only moments after the man began approaching me.
Shaking off my fear, I force myself to keep going. It can’t be the same guy. It just can’t. When I’m about twenty feet away from him, I feel silly. The man up ahead is heavier and has graying hair. I’m about to pass him when he turns suddenly and smiles widely, his eyes coal black.
Unable to stop myself, I squeak in terror. Then the man blinks, confusion clouding his brown eyes. It doesn’t matter. I’m already sprinting, my breath coming in jagged bursts. My muscles have no oxygen left, but I keep pushing them. A second later, I run headlong into Ever, who just appeared in front of me on the trail. When I look up, his expression mirrors my panic.
“His eyes,” I gasp.
I said the same thing when I first saw Alex, knowing that something was very wrong the second I saw his eyes. Looking up at Ever, I remember with sudden clarity the dream I had before I woke up in France. The furious angel: it was Ever’s face that I kept seeing over and over, even when I didn’t remember who he was. His features now look the same as they did in my dream.
Beautiful and enraged.
When we get back to my house, I don’t even argue when he tells me we have to leave. Sitting in the passenger seat of his car, I stare out the window and watch as the rain picks up and begins sheeting against the darkened glass. Even after Ever promises me that he’ll bring me home later in the evening—no matter what—I still feel a nagging sense of guilt. My mom doesn’t get home early from work very often, and now I’m running away and leaving her there. I called and left her a message saying that I would be out with Ever—true—and will be home later—also true. Of course, I didn’t mention in the message that I saw a possessed person on the walking path less than a mile from our house. But I did make Ever promise that someone would be watching over her.
Despite the failing light, I recognize the cadence of the turns in the road telling me that we’re getting closer to Ever’s house. The last time I was here seems like a lifetime ago. As soon as we reach the end of the unpaved, unmarked road to the house, the car glides to a stop and Ever immediately pulls me from the passenger seat. Chasen is standing out front with his arms crossed in what I’ve come to think of as his permanent post.
As we pass through the entryway, I don’t have time to appreciate the art on the walls that I noticed last time. We walk into the living room, and my déjà vu resurfaces at the sight of the
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