Kate Brian - Endless

“If anyone could do that, it’s Tristan,” Kevin put in, picking at his nails.

“I just wish she’d said something to me,” Cori said quietly, looking at the floor so that her braids fell forward over her cheeks. The third crow cawed and came to perch next to its friends. “I wish I knew what she was thinking.”

“It’s a good question,” the mayor said, slamming closed a heavy leather ledger atop her desk. The sound startled the birds, and they whooshed away, bleating angrily as they disappeared into the clouds. “What is Tristan thinking ? What’s his endgame?”

I stared at the book beneath her skinny fingers. Suddenly my whole body was on fire with clarity. “I know how we can find out what he’s thinking,” I said. “Or at least, what he was thinking before he ran.”

The mayor’s face screwed up in consternation. “How?”

“His journals.”

I watch the never-ending line of visitors as they make their way, bleary eyed and clueless, down the hill toward town. The captives have been released, which means each and every one of those fresh, new visitors is now free to roam the island—to roam right into my waiting clutches. How, oh, how will I decide who my next victims will be? It feels good, having the freedom to choose. It won’t be long now before the deed is done and I can reap my rewards.

It’s not as if the watchdogs can stop me. Not a chance. I’m unstoppable. I’ve got pure evil on my side.

Now that I’ve touched her, I know everything about her, and still I can’t stay away. The feelings I have when I’m with her terrify me. I promised myself I wouldn’t let this happen again. Not with a visitor or a Lifer. But Rory is different from anyone who has crossed my path in a hundred years. I know it’s bad for me, bad for her, bad for everyone, but I can’t stay away. I keep going to the house on Magnolia to keep watch, to just sit and stare with the mere hope of glimpsing her. The pain when I’m not near her, the anticipation of seeing her again, of hearing her voice, of seeing her smile…it’s unbearable.

I slammed the journal shut and tried to stop the tears before they spilled over. The last thing I wanted to do was to cry for him, for us, for what I’d thought we were going to be. I turned my face toward the window of his bedroom, pressing my eyes closed as tightly as I could and biting down hard on my lip. I hated him. I hated him for doing this to me, to my family, to everyone he’d known and loved and cared about for centuries.

A knock sounded on the open door. I quickly swiped at the wetness under my eyes and turned around. Joaquin stood framed by the doorway. Strewn around me were dozens of journals, some lying open, some piled in stacks. The coverlet on Tristan’s bed was twisted from the many times I’d changed position over the last few hours as the other Lifers had slowly put their books aside and melted away, tired of reading, hungry for dinner, or just plain unconvinced that this plan of mine would come to anything. I’d been alone and brooding for most of the afternoon.

And now Joaquin was looking at me with pity in his eyes.

“I think it’s time to take a break.”

I pushed myself up against the pillows, sniffling. “I can’t,” I said shakily, grabbing another book. “There’s something in here. I know it. And I can’t stop until I find a way to save Darcy and my dad.”

“Rory,” he said.

“Joaquin,” I shot back, glaring at him.

He took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s something I want to show you. Something I’ve never shown anyone before.”

I slammed the latest journal closed. “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Have I ever?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow. “Come on, I know you’re at least a little curious.”

I said nothing. Just stared.

“Come on.” He let his hands slap down against his legs. “Your eyes are practically crossed. You haven’t eaten since this morning, if then. You’re not going to help your dad and Darcy any if you can’t think straight. Take a little break.”

I heaved a sigh. He was right, of course. My brain was foggy, my eyes were dry, and my stomach was one big, empty knot. Back home I was always the one carefully carbo-loading before a big race, getting plenty of rest the night before an exam. I knew what my body could and couldn’t handle, and if I was being honest with myself, it couldn’t handle much more of this without giving out.

And in a strange way, it was nice to know that he cared about me. Joaquin had never let me down. He cared about me. And that meant something. It meant a lot, actually.

“Fine,” I said as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “But then we’re coming right back here. I’m close to something. I can feel it.”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a slow smile, his hand grazing the small of my back as I slipped by him. “This won’t take long.”

“If you’re bringing me up here to kill me, I’m going to be really pissed off,” I said, pressing one hand on the flimsy wall beside me as the tower above the library swayed in the wind. I swore under my breath as the entire thing leaned to the left. Overhead, the huge, two-ton bell creaked ominously on its hinges.

“Rory, you keep forgetting,” Joaquin said from the winding stairs just below me.

“I know, I know. We can’t die,” I said through my teeth. “But you’d think that would negate this serious need I have to murder you right now.”

Joaquin laughed, and even with all the vertigo, the sound warmed my heart. “Just keep going. You’re almost there.”

I held my breath and climbed the last five rickety steps to the very top of the bell tower. Tall arched windows looked out in every direction over the island, and a two-foot-wide plank walkway circled the opening under the bell, which stretched down the ten stories to the floor of the building far below. My heart pounded from the climb, from the height, and from the whistling wind that seemed to blast through every one of those windows at once. I gripped the brick casing on the nearest opening and braced myself, trying to release the fear.

“What’re we doing up here?” I asked finally. I eyed the bronze bell as it swayed, thinking of the last time it had rung.

A quick flutter of guilt flashed in Joaquin’s eyes, but then it was gone. He walked to an east-facing window and sat down. “We’re taking a break,” he said matter-of-factly. “This is where I come when I want to get away from everything. Check it out. You can see every bit of the island from up here.”

I took a deep breath and looked out the north-facing window next to me. Sure enough I saw the bridge off in the distance, the cliffs from which my Lifer friends had jumped on the night they wanted to prove we couldn’t die, and several beams of light bobbing around on the northeast shore. A search party. They were still looking. Always looking.

“Cool, right?” Joaquin said.

“Yeah.”

I sat down next to him and our knees touched. I didn’t pull away, like I would have a week ago. There was something comforting about being this close to Joaquin. And at the same time something daring. I looked up into his eyes, and he stared straight back into mine until I blushed. Then we both smiled and looked out the nearest window. My knee was on fire. Never in my life had I ever thought I would be so focused on my knee.

“It’s the highest point in Juniper Landing.” Joaquin leaned toward me, bracing one hand beside my hip and pointing past my shoulder. I felt his arm graze my neck, and his breath tickled my skin. “Look.”