The awakening, p.24
The Awakening, page 24
part #1 of Eve Series
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” she replied unconsciously. She paused and reconsidered her answer.
“Yes. A little.” She paused again. “A lot.”
“That Chin Dimple guy… he’s a dead man.”
“Yeah, well, I think he already got what was coming to him. Let’s just say he won’t be walking the same for a long time.”
Jason said nothing and simply stared back at her battered face.
“It’ll be gone before I wake up tomorrow morning.”
“That’s not the point, Eve. Someone hurt you. That’s all I care about.”
He gently pressed the hand towel back against her cheekbone, his eyes now
overflowing with an odd blend of anger and affection. She looked away
uncomfortably and tried to change the subject.
“Want to start melting?”
“No.”
“Oh?” She hesitated. “So, what did you have in mind?”
“Interlopers,” he said, taking a seat on his bed. “I want to talk about the Interlopers.”
Eve sighed. “Jason—”
“I know, you’re not into it, I get it. But they’re evil, Eve.”
“Do you think I disagree?” she said. “Look, what they’re doing—it’s beyond
words. It sickens me. But we’re two people, and there are God knows how many of them. What could we possibly do about it?”
“I don’t know.” Jason cast his eyes down to the floor. “But we have to do something. And if we work together—”
“What? We’ll figure it out along the way?” Eve scoffed. “This is life or
death, Jason. We can’t exactly wing it.”
“You don’t have to be on board, Eve. I’m doing this with or without you.”
“You’re insane.”
“I have to do this.”
“Why? Why does this have to be your responsibility? Why you of all people?”
“Because they cut me open! ” he barked with sudden ferocity. “They strapped me down and carved me up like a goddamn animal! ” His chest heaved as he
spoke. “I want them to pay for what they did to me. For what they did to Woodgate. All of them. I need to make them pay.”
The room became quiet and still. Eve felt stupid for pressing him; she had known the answer all along. The top of his scar protruded from the V-neck of
his t-shirt—it was staring her right in the face—and yet she hadn’t seen it for
some reason. Hesitantly, she joined Jason on the edge of his bed.
“You know, I can’t understand…” She stopped short and bit her lip,
struggling to find the right words to say. “I mean, I want to. I want to understand.”
“Is that your way of asking me to tell you what happened?”
For the first time since the start of their sessions, it was Jason who avoided
Eve’s gaze; he kept his eyes pointed at the window, pretending to watch the yellowing sky, but really lost in thought—in memories.
“I went for a walk that night,” he began. “It was stupid. I knew about the attacks.
I knew it was dangerous to be out alone. But I figured I was safe”—he
chuckled, amused by his own naivety—“because I thought I was human.”
Eve listened quietly, studying him as he spoke. His eyes were cold, almost empty, but she could hear something raw and visceral in his voice: a repressed
pain.
“It happened suddenly. Something pounded into my back, knocking the wind out of me. I fell to the ground, and I tried to get up, but someone—some thing
—was pushing me down, shoving my face into the dirt. At first I thought I was
getting mugged. Then they tossed a bag over my head, and I assumed it was some stupid fraternity prank.” He grimaced. “I felt something wet dripping onto my back—something slimy. I could only imagine what it was, but every
disgusting possibility crossed my mind. Everything went black after that. I took
a huge blow to the head, and I was out cold.
“When I woke up, I was already strapped down to the table. They had metal
cuffs on my wrists and ankles. There was something attached to my forehead—
I couldn’t see what it was, but it was ringing. Maybe that was just in my mind, I
don’t know. My head was throbbing.”
Jason’s hands gripped the edge of his mattress tightly, and the veins in his
forearms bulged.
“Have you ever seen an Interloper up close?” he asked, finally turning to
Eve.
Her breathing became shallow. “Just once,” she said.
“His eyes were so black, like polished stones. He looked frail; I can’t believe
something so damn skinny could be so strong. But the worst part was his teeth
—hundreds of long, silver needles. They were the sickest things I had ever seen in my entire life… until I saw the inside of my own body.
“He called me chimera. He said my death would be their salvation—that I didn’t deserve my power. I didn’t even know what he was talking about. All I
knew was that he hated me. It was written all over his ugly face.”
Jason finally released his grip on the sheets and raised his hands, measuring
out a length of about two feet. “His blade was this long,” he explained. “He showed it to me and laughed. He wanted me to be terrified. He was enjoying every second of it. And then,” his voice trailed off and he lowered his hands,
“he just started cutting.”
“Jason—”
“I’ve never felt anything like it. It was indescribable—a pain you could
never, ever imagine. I could feel my skin, my muscle… separating from my bones. I could feel… everything.”
“Jason,” Eve repeated, “you don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to.”
Jason shrugged. “There’s nothing left to tell, anyway. I don’t remember
much else—I was in and out of consciousness, I guess. But there’s one thing I’ll never forget.” His eyes became fiery, and his lips curled furiously. “That freak—he kept licking my blood off of his talons, like it was chocolate syrup or some shit. One of his talons, on his left hand, was broken—cut in half, like a
jagged stump. He’d soak it in my blood and then suck on it like it was candy.
I’ll remember that forever.”
Eve was quiet, captivated by the strange feeling of nothing and everything at
the same time. The hairs on her arms stood up straight; every sense within her
was piqued and ignited, and yet her body was cold and paralyzed. It took her a
moment to finally realize she was holding her breath, and even longer to
notice that she was also holding Jason’s hand. It felt instinctive, almost natural,
and yet so very unlike her. With a surge of conviction, she leaned closer to him and nodded at the incision line peeping from his shirt collar.
“That scar doesn’t define you, Jason. I know it feels like it does—like they
took something from you—but they didn’t.”
“You sure about that?” he scoffed. “Because every night, I see his eyes and
fangs and that damn blade. I hear him laughing and that god-awful ringing in
my ears, and sometimes I think I can even smell the blood. Do you know what
that’s like? To have nightmares every single night?”
“Yes.” The word left her lips before she could stop it. “I do.”
Jason studied her face, searching for answers. “You do?” His eyes widened.
“Because of your parents?”
“Look, we’re talking about you right now, not me—”
“Do we have to do this?” he asked. “The back and forth. I’m going to keep
asking, and after some kicking and screaming, you’ll tell me.”
“You seem awfully confident,” she grumbled.
“Am I wrong?”
Eve let out a deep, aggravated breath and pulled her hand away from his. For
the first time in so many years, she felt weak, breakable, and defenseless, as if
every wall and every guard she had built up was now crumbling around her.
She had never told anyone about her parents, about the beginning of the end of
her normal, happy life. Back home, everyone assumed they knew the story, but
only Eve knew the truth; she carried it with her always, like an arduous burden that weighed her down. In this moment, the burden felt heavier than it ever had
before.
“They died today, eleven years ago.” She finally spoke. “Today’s the
anniversary.”
“Eve, I had no idea—”
“Don’t—” she cut in, forcing a smile. “It’s okay. It really is.”
Her smile quickly faded as she recalled the evening that had changed her life
forever.
“The drunk driver came out of nowhere. Before I knew it, the whole thing
was over. It was so loud, the crash. He destroyed them.”
Her eyes were distant as if watching the accident play out before her.
“I just stood there. The bastard got out of his truck—asshole had the nerve to
threaten me. The whole scene, it was so foul, so awful.
“Something happened inside of me. I felt this horrible pounding in my head,
and then suddenly—everything stopped. I couldn’t see or hear or feel anything.
That split second felt like hours of just… nothing.
“When I could finally see again—when all of my senses came flooding back
—I felt, I don’t know—different. I felt strong. Too strong. I couldn’t handle it.
The first thing I saw was that beast of a truck. I looked at it, just for a moment, and,” she paused, her voice wavering, “it flew into the sky, like the ugliest
damn bird you’ve ever seen. And then it fell to the ground, flat on top of the drunk driver.”
She raised her chin as if to brace herself. Jason remained silent.
“CSI had to hose his body off the pavement. It killed him instantly— I killed him instantly.”
“My God—” Jason murmured.
Eve grimaced. “The police tried to say that the truck—my emergence—was
intentional. I was charged with second-degree murder. They were going to try
me as an adult due to the ‘ gravity’ of the situation.” She paused and shook her head. “My face was all over the local news. Everyone thought I was a killer.”
“What happened?”
“They stuck me in juvie during the court proceedings.”
“Juvie? For how long?”
“Six weeks.” She closed her eyes and cringed as an icy chill ran through her.
“Look, things happened. I—”
“Don’t want to talk about it?”
She ignored Jason’s interruption and quickly moved on. “I was eventually
acquitted. The whole case was dismissed. People were calling it the greatest failure of the judicial system in years.” She turned to look at him briefly. “You
know, San Francisco is a big city, but once everyone there wants you dead, it
really starts to feel so small. So suffocating.
“I was sent to live with my aunt. God, that was the worst part—seeing your
own family look at you like you’re some kind of monster. She couldn’t stand
the sight of me. We didn’t speak.”
Eve cast her eyes down to her hands and angrily picked at her nails.
“I was tormented every day. They beat me, they broke my bones. When I
started fighting back, they kept their distance, but the hate never went away.”
She scowled disgustedly. “My aunt—she’d see me come home covered in my
own blood. And she didn’t say a thing. She’d look at me with the most pathetic, lifeless eyes, like she was the victim… and then she’d just walk away.
“I got out of there when I turned sixteen—made some money, got an
apartment, and filed for emancipation.” She finally rested her hands on her lap
and stared blankly at the wall in front of her. “I’ve been on my own ever since.
Not like I wasn’t when I lived with her. I’ve been on my own since I sent that
truck flying.
“And the nightmares—they’re consistent. Every single night, it’s the same
thing. I used to wake up screaming. Now… now I’m just so used to it. It’s like
some sort of twisted lullaby.”
Finally, her story was out in the open. It seemed to hang in front of her like a
third body in the room, and for the first time in years, she was overwhelmed by
a feeling she thought she had learned to abandon: fear of judgment. She could
feel Jason watching her, but he didn’t speak, and his silence sounded like the
loudest, most agonizing scream she had ever heard.
“I didn’t kill that man,” she declared. “Well, I did kill him, but I didn’t do it on purpose, like they said I did. I’m not a murderer.”
“I know that.”
She picked at her nails yet again. “I know what you’re thinking—it explains
a lot, right? How I’ve lived. It explains why I am the way I am.”
“I wasn’t thinking that.”
“Then what were you thinking?”
“That you’re amazing.”
Eve froze. “What?”
“That you’re the strongest person I know,” he continued. “That despite all
the bullshit you’ve been put through, you’re still good. You’re not filled with
hate.”
“You don’t have to say that, Jason.”
“I don’t have to say anything I don’t want to.” His voice was stern, almost reprimanding. “I mean what I say.”
There was no way for Eve to respond. A weight had been lifted from her
shoulders, and though she couldn’t look at him, she felt herself begin to relax
the slightest bit.
“So, are you glad to be out of San Francisco? You can’t miss it much.”
Eve hesitated. “There’s one thing,” she began. “It’s kind of stupid.
Sometimes at night I’d head south, toward the mid-peninsula. There was this park that had a beautiful view of the bay. I’d lie down on one of the picnic tables, stare up at the sky and just think.” She took in a deep breath. “It’s cheesy as all hell, I know that. But the sky was always pitch black, and the stars were so perfectly clear. It was the only time I felt peaceful—like all of my problems
were insignificant.”
“You can do that here, you know. We’ve got picnic tables.”
“I tried once.” She smiled ruefully. “That was the night I found Marshall
Woodgate’s body.”
“Jesus Christ…”
“I came here to get away from all of that: the chaos, the blood. My past, more
than anything.” Her mind wandered to her first day at Billington, and to
how drastically things had changed since then. “I had a goal in mind. A
purpose. It sort of consumed me.”
“And that was?”
Eve was quiet, refusing to look Jason in the eye.
“You’re not going to tell me.”
“It doesn’t matter. It didn’t work out. I failed.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t.”
“Trust me,” she chuckled, “I really, really did.”
“Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe it was never your true purpose in the
first place.” He leaned forward, inching his way closer to her side. “Sometimes
you want something so badly, you get caught up; you lose yourself in that hunger. But then, once it’s gone, you have a chance to reassess—to decide what
it is you’re truly after. Half of the time, it’s not what you originally thought it would be.”
Jason’s words repeated in Eve’s mind; they had awakened something inside
of her, a powerful surge of energy that now ached to be released. In an instant, every single function within Eve’s body stopped—her breath was stifled inside
her chest, her hands were frozen at her sides, and her eyes were dilated. It was
there, right in front of her—an answer to a puzzle she didn’t know she was trying to solve—and suddenly everything had become so simple, so clear. She
turned to Jason.
“I changed my mind.”
Jason wrinkled his brow. “What do you mean?”
“I want to do it.”
“Do what?”
Eve was intoxicated with a new sense of purpose: a new desire born inside of
her in that very moment. Her carriage became strong, almost austere, and her
eyes lit up with a passion and fervor that glowed through her like a burning fire.
Deep breath.
“The Interlopers—I want to fight them.”
CHAPTER 8: STARRY NIGHT
The classroom was nearly empty. Eve sat alone at her desk, hurriedly
slaving away over her exam; it was the fifth unannounced test they’d had
already, and they were barely halfway through the semester.
Eve looked up from her papers and made eye contact with Professor
Richards—he sat at the front of the room, scowling at her from his desk—and
she tightly gripped her old-fashioned pencil until it snapped in half. Richards chuckled to himself; God, he was a dick.
This was the second time Eve had taken this test. During the normal class hours
—which, for the record, had long since ended—Richards had pointedly
scanned the room looking for cheaters, or so he had claimed. And then, just as Eve had reached the last page, the final stretch of this nightmare of an exam, Richards had appeared at her elbow, torn the exam from her grasp, and ripped
“No,” she replied unconsciously. She paused and reconsidered her answer.
“Yes. A little.” She paused again. “A lot.”
“That Chin Dimple guy… he’s a dead man.”
“Yeah, well, I think he already got what was coming to him. Let’s just say he won’t be walking the same for a long time.”
Jason said nothing and simply stared back at her battered face.
“It’ll be gone before I wake up tomorrow morning.”
“That’s not the point, Eve. Someone hurt you. That’s all I care about.”
He gently pressed the hand towel back against her cheekbone, his eyes now
overflowing with an odd blend of anger and affection. She looked away
uncomfortably and tried to change the subject.
“Want to start melting?”
“No.”
“Oh?” She hesitated. “So, what did you have in mind?”
“Interlopers,” he said, taking a seat on his bed. “I want to talk about the Interlopers.”
Eve sighed. “Jason—”
“I know, you’re not into it, I get it. But they’re evil, Eve.”
“Do you think I disagree?” she said. “Look, what they’re doing—it’s beyond
words. It sickens me. But we’re two people, and there are God knows how many of them. What could we possibly do about it?”
“I don’t know.” Jason cast his eyes down to the floor. “But we have to do something. And if we work together—”
“What? We’ll figure it out along the way?” Eve scoffed. “This is life or
death, Jason. We can’t exactly wing it.”
“You don’t have to be on board, Eve. I’m doing this with or without you.”
“You’re insane.”
“I have to do this.”
“Why? Why does this have to be your responsibility? Why you of all people?”
“Because they cut me open! ” he barked with sudden ferocity. “They strapped me down and carved me up like a goddamn animal! ” His chest heaved as he
spoke. “I want them to pay for what they did to me. For what they did to Woodgate. All of them. I need to make them pay.”
The room became quiet and still. Eve felt stupid for pressing him; she had known the answer all along. The top of his scar protruded from the V-neck of
his t-shirt—it was staring her right in the face—and yet she hadn’t seen it for
some reason. Hesitantly, she joined Jason on the edge of his bed.
“You know, I can’t understand…” She stopped short and bit her lip,
struggling to find the right words to say. “I mean, I want to. I want to understand.”
“Is that your way of asking me to tell you what happened?”
For the first time since the start of their sessions, it was Jason who avoided
Eve’s gaze; he kept his eyes pointed at the window, pretending to watch the yellowing sky, but really lost in thought—in memories.
“I went for a walk that night,” he began. “It was stupid. I knew about the attacks.
I knew it was dangerous to be out alone. But I figured I was safe”—he
chuckled, amused by his own naivety—“because I thought I was human.”
Eve listened quietly, studying him as he spoke. His eyes were cold, almost empty, but she could hear something raw and visceral in his voice: a repressed
pain.
“It happened suddenly. Something pounded into my back, knocking the wind out of me. I fell to the ground, and I tried to get up, but someone—some thing
—was pushing me down, shoving my face into the dirt. At first I thought I was
getting mugged. Then they tossed a bag over my head, and I assumed it was some stupid fraternity prank.” He grimaced. “I felt something wet dripping onto my back—something slimy. I could only imagine what it was, but every
disgusting possibility crossed my mind. Everything went black after that. I took
a huge blow to the head, and I was out cold.
“When I woke up, I was already strapped down to the table. They had metal
cuffs on my wrists and ankles. There was something attached to my forehead—
I couldn’t see what it was, but it was ringing. Maybe that was just in my mind, I
don’t know. My head was throbbing.”
Jason’s hands gripped the edge of his mattress tightly, and the veins in his
forearms bulged.
“Have you ever seen an Interloper up close?” he asked, finally turning to
Eve.
Her breathing became shallow. “Just once,” she said.
“His eyes were so black, like polished stones. He looked frail; I can’t believe
something so damn skinny could be so strong. But the worst part was his teeth
—hundreds of long, silver needles. They were the sickest things I had ever seen in my entire life… until I saw the inside of my own body.
“He called me chimera. He said my death would be their salvation—that I didn’t deserve my power. I didn’t even know what he was talking about. All I
knew was that he hated me. It was written all over his ugly face.”
Jason finally released his grip on the sheets and raised his hands, measuring
out a length of about two feet. “His blade was this long,” he explained. “He showed it to me and laughed. He wanted me to be terrified. He was enjoying every second of it. And then,” his voice trailed off and he lowered his hands,
“he just started cutting.”
“Jason—”
“I’ve never felt anything like it. It was indescribable—a pain you could
never, ever imagine. I could feel my skin, my muscle… separating from my bones. I could feel… everything.”
“Jason,” Eve repeated, “you don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to.”
Jason shrugged. “There’s nothing left to tell, anyway. I don’t remember
much else—I was in and out of consciousness, I guess. But there’s one thing I’ll never forget.” His eyes became fiery, and his lips curled furiously. “That freak—he kept licking my blood off of his talons, like it was chocolate syrup or some shit. One of his talons, on his left hand, was broken—cut in half, like a
jagged stump. He’d soak it in my blood and then suck on it like it was candy.
I’ll remember that forever.”
Eve was quiet, captivated by the strange feeling of nothing and everything at
the same time. The hairs on her arms stood up straight; every sense within her
was piqued and ignited, and yet her body was cold and paralyzed. It took her a
moment to finally realize she was holding her breath, and even longer to
notice that she was also holding Jason’s hand. It felt instinctive, almost natural,
and yet so very unlike her. With a surge of conviction, she leaned closer to him and nodded at the incision line peeping from his shirt collar.
“That scar doesn’t define you, Jason. I know it feels like it does—like they
took something from you—but they didn’t.”
“You sure about that?” he scoffed. “Because every night, I see his eyes and
fangs and that damn blade. I hear him laughing and that god-awful ringing in
my ears, and sometimes I think I can even smell the blood. Do you know what
that’s like? To have nightmares every single night?”
“Yes.” The word left her lips before she could stop it. “I do.”
Jason studied her face, searching for answers. “You do?” His eyes widened.
“Because of your parents?”
“Look, we’re talking about you right now, not me—”
“Do we have to do this?” he asked. “The back and forth. I’m going to keep
asking, and after some kicking and screaming, you’ll tell me.”
“You seem awfully confident,” she grumbled.
“Am I wrong?”
Eve let out a deep, aggravated breath and pulled her hand away from his. For
the first time in so many years, she felt weak, breakable, and defenseless, as if
every wall and every guard she had built up was now crumbling around her.
She had never told anyone about her parents, about the beginning of the end of
her normal, happy life. Back home, everyone assumed they knew the story, but
only Eve knew the truth; she carried it with her always, like an arduous burden that weighed her down. In this moment, the burden felt heavier than it ever had
before.
“They died today, eleven years ago.” She finally spoke. “Today’s the
anniversary.”
“Eve, I had no idea—”
“Don’t—” she cut in, forcing a smile. “It’s okay. It really is.”
Her smile quickly faded as she recalled the evening that had changed her life
forever.
“The drunk driver came out of nowhere. Before I knew it, the whole thing
was over. It was so loud, the crash. He destroyed them.”
Her eyes were distant as if watching the accident play out before her.
“I just stood there. The bastard got out of his truck—asshole had the nerve to
threaten me. The whole scene, it was so foul, so awful.
“Something happened inside of me. I felt this horrible pounding in my head,
and then suddenly—everything stopped. I couldn’t see or hear or feel anything.
That split second felt like hours of just… nothing.
“When I could finally see again—when all of my senses came flooding back
—I felt, I don’t know—different. I felt strong. Too strong. I couldn’t handle it.
The first thing I saw was that beast of a truck. I looked at it, just for a moment, and,” she paused, her voice wavering, “it flew into the sky, like the ugliest
damn bird you’ve ever seen. And then it fell to the ground, flat on top of the drunk driver.”
She raised her chin as if to brace herself. Jason remained silent.
“CSI had to hose his body off the pavement. It killed him instantly— I killed him instantly.”
“My God—” Jason murmured.
Eve grimaced. “The police tried to say that the truck—my emergence—was
intentional. I was charged with second-degree murder. They were going to try
me as an adult due to the ‘ gravity’ of the situation.” She paused and shook her head. “My face was all over the local news. Everyone thought I was a killer.”
“What happened?”
“They stuck me in juvie during the court proceedings.”
“Juvie? For how long?”
“Six weeks.” She closed her eyes and cringed as an icy chill ran through her.
“Look, things happened. I—”
“Don’t want to talk about it?”
She ignored Jason’s interruption and quickly moved on. “I was eventually
acquitted. The whole case was dismissed. People were calling it the greatest failure of the judicial system in years.” She turned to look at him briefly. “You
know, San Francisco is a big city, but once everyone there wants you dead, it
really starts to feel so small. So suffocating.
“I was sent to live with my aunt. God, that was the worst part—seeing your
own family look at you like you’re some kind of monster. She couldn’t stand
the sight of me. We didn’t speak.”
Eve cast her eyes down to her hands and angrily picked at her nails.
“I was tormented every day. They beat me, they broke my bones. When I
started fighting back, they kept their distance, but the hate never went away.”
She scowled disgustedly. “My aunt—she’d see me come home covered in my
own blood. And she didn’t say a thing. She’d look at me with the most pathetic, lifeless eyes, like she was the victim… and then she’d just walk away.
“I got out of there when I turned sixteen—made some money, got an
apartment, and filed for emancipation.” She finally rested her hands on her lap
and stared blankly at the wall in front of her. “I’ve been on my own ever since.
Not like I wasn’t when I lived with her. I’ve been on my own since I sent that
truck flying.
“And the nightmares—they’re consistent. Every single night, it’s the same
thing. I used to wake up screaming. Now… now I’m just so used to it. It’s like
some sort of twisted lullaby.”
Finally, her story was out in the open. It seemed to hang in front of her like a
third body in the room, and for the first time in years, she was overwhelmed by
a feeling she thought she had learned to abandon: fear of judgment. She could
feel Jason watching her, but he didn’t speak, and his silence sounded like the
loudest, most agonizing scream she had ever heard.
“I didn’t kill that man,” she declared. “Well, I did kill him, but I didn’t do it on purpose, like they said I did. I’m not a murderer.”
“I know that.”
She picked at her nails yet again. “I know what you’re thinking—it explains
a lot, right? How I’ve lived. It explains why I am the way I am.”
“I wasn’t thinking that.”
“Then what were you thinking?”
“That you’re amazing.”
Eve froze. “What?”
“That you’re the strongest person I know,” he continued. “That despite all
the bullshit you’ve been put through, you’re still good. You’re not filled with
hate.”
“You don’t have to say that, Jason.”
“I don’t have to say anything I don’t want to.” His voice was stern, almost reprimanding. “I mean what I say.”
There was no way for Eve to respond. A weight had been lifted from her
shoulders, and though she couldn’t look at him, she felt herself begin to relax
the slightest bit.
“So, are you glad to be out of San Francisco? You can’t miss it much.”
Eve hesitated. “There’s one thing,” she began. “It’s kind of stupid.
Sometimes at night I’d head south, toward the mid-peninsula. There was this park that had a beautiful view of the bay. I’d lie down on one of the picnic tables, stare up at the sky and just think.” She took in a deep breath. “It’s cheesy as all hell, I know that. But the sky was always pitch black, and the stars were so perfectly clear. It was the only time I felt peaceful—like all of my problems
were insignificant.”
“You can do that here, you know. We’ve got picnic tables.”
“I tried once.” She smiled ruefully. “That was the night I found Marshall
Woodgate’s body.”
“Jesus Christ…”
“I came here to get away from all of that: the chaos, the blood. My past, more
than anything.” Her mind wandered to her first day at Billington, and to
how drastically things had changed since then. “I had a goal in mind. A
purpose. It sort of consumed me.”
“And that was?”
Eve was quiet, refusing to look Jason in the eye.
“You’re not going to tell me.”
“It doesn’t matter. It didn’t work out. I failed.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t.”
“Trust me,” she chuckled, “I really, really did.”
“Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe it was never your true purpose in the
first place.” He leaned forward, inching his way closer to her side. “Sometimes
you want something so badly, you get caught up; you lose yourself in that hunger. But then, once it’s gone, you have a chance to reassess—to decide what
it is you’re truly after. Half of the time, it’s not what you originally thought it would be.”
Jason’s words repeated in Eve’s mind; they had awakened something inside
of her, a powerful surge of energy that now ached to be released. In an instant, every single function within Eve’s body stopped—her breath was stifled inside
her chest, her hands were frozen at her sides, and her eyes were dilated. It was
there, right in front of her—an answer to a puzzle she didn’t know she was trying to solve—and suddenly everything had become so simple, so clear. She
turned to Jason.
“I changed my mind.”
Jason wrinkled his brow. “What do you mean?”
“I want to do it.”
“Do what?”
Eve was intoxicated with a new sense of purpose: a new desire born inside of
her in that very moment. Her carriage became strong, almost austere, and her
eyes lit up with a passion and fervor that glowed through her like a burning fire.
Deep breath.
“The Interlopers—I want to fight them.”
CHAPTER 8: STARRY NIGHT
The classroom was nearly empty. Eve sat alone at her desk, hurriedly
slaving away over her exam; it was the fifth unannounced test they’d had
already, and they were barely halfway through the semester.
Eve looked up from her papers and made eye contact with Professor
Richards—he sat at the front of the room, scowling at her from his desk—and
she tightly gripped her old-fashioned pencil until it snapped in half. Richards chuckled to himself; God, he was a dick.
This was the second time Eve had taken this test. During the normal class hours
—which, for the record, had long since ended—Richards had pointedly
scanned the room looking for cheaters, or so he had claimed. And then, just as Eve had reached the last page, the final stretch of this nightmare of an exam, Richards had appeared at her elbow, torn the exam from her grasp, and ripped
