Sever (The Ever Series Book 3) (8 page)

Hearing footsteps, I turn, and when I look back, Ever has already disappeared. I rush the rest of the way to class, remembering back to the beginning of junior year when it felt like my life was ending. I had been sure that I would flunk math, and my parents’ divorce had seemed cataclysmic.

Now, immortal warfare has given me a fresh perspective. My pain, my decisions, my future—they are all larger than I am as an individual.

When I get to Trig, I contemplate my existence and the possibilities for the future, however long or short mine is. One possibility is that someone erases my memory, and I live to a ripe, old age. Another is that Victor wins, and something has control over me for eternity. A third is that I become like Ever and the others. Or, my least favorite option: I die, soon.

Maybe I
was
crazy to say no after Ever told me it was possible to become like him. Or maybe I trusted my instincts and was right. I think about all the things I’ve discovered since that moment. At the time, I hadn’t known about Alex’s true intentions, the war for this world, or Victor. All critical information when deciding whether to dispense with my humanity for an eternity with Ever.

Thinking of Alice’s long, strange fall down the rabbit hole into Wonderland, I wonder if I’ll ever hit the bottom—or if I’ll just keep falling.

I spend most of the period trying to stay under Ms. Kwan’s radar. It’s just my luck that my Trig teacher has turned out to be yet another math teacher who thinks everyone should “get it” immediately. The fact that I’m a senior—and struggling—seems to bug her. This is her first year teaching, and I’ve caught her thinking that teaching shouldn’t be so hard.

I guess everybody has problems. The only difference is other people’s problems don’t necessarily involve immortals. On the other hand, if Victor wins, he is going to be everybody’s problem, whether they know it yet or not.

I
need time to think—and not about Trig, and when the bell finally rings, I put my notebook in my bag and head for my locker. Ever is already waiting for me.

“Is this going to be the rest of my senior year? Immortals jumping out from behind every corner?”

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way for you,” he says as we walk to the parking lot. “Of all the things I wish I could give you, freedom from this is highest on the list.”

The sacrifice in his words makes me angry, which is good. It reminds me that I need to stop complaining if I don’t want Ever to disappear one day because he thinks it’s best for me.

“
That
is not what I meant. Hello! Read my mind. I am
not
sitting around wishing you would disappear. It just feels like I’ve been holding my breath waiting for something bad to happen … and it finally did.”

I grab his hand and raise it to my lips as we reach his car and he opens my door.

“I’m worried about my mom, and my life is strange … but I’m okay with that because I wouldn’t trade the time with you for anything.”

When he pulls out of the parking lot, I frown.

“Where are you going?”

“The bookstore,” he says evenly.

“I have a car now, remember? That’s kinda why I’m working in the first place.”

“Would you humor me?” Ever asks, his eyes unreasonably persuasive.

“Okay,” I smile. “But just so you know, I hate getting driven to work in an Italian sports car.”

A few minutes later, Ever slides into a parking space and gets out to walk me to the front of the store. He leans down and kisses me, and I have to force myself to pull away. As I walk toward the store, I stop and look back. Ever’s expression is serious, reminding me of last year when I first saw him and how I thought he would never smile.

Inside, I see Mike at the counter. Pretending like I didn’t see him, I quickly walk toward the stockroom. Mike is the twenty-something-year-old guy going to the community college near our house. He looks like a less attractive version of Chasen. A much less attractive version of Chasen. If it were possible for Chasen to be unattractive. And Mike’s personality—pompous and smarmy—makes him generally unpleasant to be around. Like most of the other female employees, I avoid him whenever possible.

Reaching the stockroom, I glance around. It’s dusty and plain—just a sea of cardboard boxes, really—but if there’s one thing I’m grateful about when it comes to my job, it’s that I don’t have to deal with any customers. I’ve heard way too many horror stories. Long lines of angry customers, people coming in and pitching an absolute fit because they want to return something without a receipt, employees’ pay getting docked because the registers came up short.

Clocking in, I look for a box cutter. This job has led to more paper cuts than I can count, all of them healed by Ever. My job isn’t exciting. All I do is verify shipments, sort stuff for different areas, keep track of inventory, and process the returns. I like it, though. Plus, it means cash for my ugly turquoise car.

My job also reminds me what normal life is like.

The door to the stockroom swings open, and I cringe inwardly when I see Mike. He likes to show up and sit around while I work until our boss comes looking for him, usually because his break ended fifteen minutes earlier. When he’s not around, she calls him a walking human resources nightmare. Meaning he follows every girl who works the same shift as he does.

Ever has come into the bookstore on multiple occasions, making it quite clear that I have a boyfriend, so obviously Mike either A) doesn’t care, B) thinks he’s valid competition against
Ever
, or C) is completely obtuse. I vote for a combination of all three.

“How’s my favorite under-aged worker bee?” he says, sitting down on a box across from me.

My nose crinkles automatically. He smells like cigarettes and Cheetos, two of my least favorite things in the universe.

“Turning eighteen very soon.”

“Noted,” he says in the sleaziest way possible.

With a look of barely contained disgust, I slash open a box with a little more force than necessary and take out the shipping invoice. When I look up, Mike catches my gaze with his watery blue eyes.

Nice legs
, he smirks to himself.

“Mike?” I snap as he leans toward me. “Touch one of my appendages, and you die.”

He smiles and retracts his hand.

“Aren’t there some of-age girls you could be following around?” I ask peevishly.

“You know you’re my favorite.”

I think about Ever listening to this conversation. Other than the sprinkler-system malfunction in the cafeteria involving Jeff Summers, Ever and the others are under strict instructions not to mess with any humans—even if they deserve it. Still, I worry that this jerk is going to get out to his car one night and find it crushed to the size of a tuna can.

“You’ve seen my boyfriend, right?”

He laughs.

“That blond male-model type is your boyfriend?”

I restrain myself from pointing out that the male-model type could easily snap him in half or turn his brain into runny pudding. When the door swings open, I exhale when Rita pokes her head in.

“Mike? Any plans to work this evening?”

He grins.

“I was just helping Wren here lift a few boxes.”

I scowl at him. Working at the bookstore has had it benefits—including the fact that I can now lift boxes nearly half my weight with no problem.

“Well, I’m taking off,” Rita says with barely contained annoyance. “I need another body up front at the registers. Now.”

My co-worker stands up and saunters toward our manager, turning back to wink at me. Shudder. But I still prefer his company to Victor’s. Because at least my creepy workmate isn’t planning to use me as a means of initiating mass destruction.

My shift today is short—only four hours, but the rest of it passes by slowly, which is the funny part about waiting for someone to pop out and steal my life: I can be simultaneously bored and terrified.

By the time I clock out, I’m restless and edgy. It doesn’t help that the second I walk out the door, I smell Mike before I see him. No matter how many times Rita tells him not to smoke in front of the store, he never listens. I turn and see him leaning against the building. When he pushes off and comes over to where I’m standing, I try to hold my breath as he exhales a plume of smoke from the corner of his mouth.

“Is Goldilocks late?” he smirks.

I smile as I see Ever appear behind him.

“No. He’s right behind you,” Ever says.

“
What the
?!”

I smirk as Mike spins around, his cigarette dangling unattractively from his lower lip.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Mike gasps.

Ever looks over Mike’s head at me.

“Wren? Shall we?” Ever asks, holding out his hand for me to take.

I nod, trying not to giggle as Ever steps around Mike. As we walk around the corner of the building to Ever’s car, he looks down at me with a playful grin.

“Would you be angry if his car doesn’t start tonight?” he asks as he opens the car door for me.

I sit down, and when I look over, Ever is already in the driver’s seat.

“You can’t be jealous of
Mike
. I mean, he’s just … yuck.”

Ever reaches out with one long, bronzed hand and touches my knee, sending a burst of warmth through me.

“You forget that I have to listen to his every waking thought.”

I arch an eyebrow.

“Can’t you just, you know, tune him out? You can’t be listening to everyone’s thoughts all the time. There’s gotta be a mute button, right?”

“Not for those thinking of you.”

“But he can’t be thinking about me
that
much.”

“Anything is too much,” Ever says seriously as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Come on. Half of Springview was mentally undressing you last year. Not that I blame them, but it was a little depressing—not to mention every female in a five-mile radius thinking you’re some kind of tasty snack. I don’t have to read everyone’s thoughts to know that much.”

“Does it help that you’re the center of my universe?”

I smile.

“Maybe a little bit.”

The problem is that when I get home, I’m reminded of my biggest problem. My mom is banging around the kitchen, getting ready to go to work, which means she’ll be around
Dick
. It makes me wonder. Is
that
what Victor expects me to become? A part-time human? A tool?

“She’ll be fine,” Ever says quietly as we walk into the kitchen.

“How do you know that?” I whisper back.

“Because Victor wants you compliant, not enraged.”

It’s hard not to see Ever’s logic. If anything happened to my mom, I would lose it. Just the thought makes me a little unhinged. I have to concentrate to smile when she turns around.

“Hey, Mom.”

I walk over and wrap my arm around her shoulders.

“What’s the emergency?” I ask her as she scans the kitchen like it’s stolen something from her.

“My department’s doing this whole water conservation program, filling up bottles with filtered water rather than buying plastic—and I can’t find mine.”

Walking over, I open up the dishwasher. The bottle is right there on the top rack. I turn and hold it out.

“You’re a lifesaver, honey.”

“You want me to make dinner and leave some for you?”

“Thanks, but Richard’s working the night shift. He offered to get takeout on my break.”

Ever may be right about Victor not hurting my mom, but I still don’t want his half-human creep hanging around her. Ever clears his throat in an abnormally human way, and my mom suddenly looks over at where he’s waiting in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Aw, Ever. I’m sorry if I gave you an evil look yesterday.”

He smiles, which is hypnotizing.

“Caroline, I will never hold it against you for being protective of your daughter.”

“Hey!” my mom says, clapping her hands together. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we have Richard over for dinner, and you can show off your culinary skills? Ever, you’re invited, of course.”

Shaking my head, I try to contain the wave of nausea rolling through me.

“Mom! The only thing I know how to make is tortilla soup—”

“That’s perfect! All right, I’ve gotta get going.”

She hurries over, kisses me on the cheek, and pats Ever on the shoulder as she heads toward the front door.

“I’ll call to check in before you go to bed!” she says over her shoulder.

I turn and smile at Ever.

“Got that?”

An hour later, we’re in my bedroom—studying. At least I am. Second semester of senior year, and I’m supposed to be coasting. And I would be, if I didn’t despise Trig so much. To Ever, my obsession with finishing out my high school education with a respectable GPA is probably a bit pointless. But I need to know that I’ve really lived every second of my time as a human. Or, if my end is near, and there’s nothing after this—or, worse, I’m possessed—then this is all I have. Either way, I can’t take anything for granted. Even Trig. I look up from my homework to find Ever staring at me, his own expression mirroring mine.

“Your leaps in logic are truly profound. From Trigonometry to mortality?” Ever asks.

I shrug.

“Your fault for reading my thoughts.”

“I only wish they were happier thoughts.” He smiles. “Is there anything I can do to improve them?”

“Maybe.”

Ever rises from the chair at my desk and comes over to where I’m propped up on the bed. When he pulls me up, I smile and lean forward to kiss him.