Eve of Eternal Night Page 4

  I reached over and grabbed his wrist to pry his hand off the bar and give myself some space. When it didn’t even budge, I knew things were about to get interesting.

  “Do you mind?” I asked, trying to look over my shoulder at him. Imagine my surprise when I turned my face right into his. Sharp angles and shadows and ice-blue eyes greeted me with an ominous expression. I pressed my body closer to the bar to put some space between us. He laughed in response.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t bite… at least not without asking first.”

  “Charming,” I replied, trying to slither out of my seat and under his arm. My attempt was weak at best, and basically just made me look like I’d fallen off my chair. As I stood in the narrow space between the barstools, Prince Charming’s arm still penning me in, I finally got a good look at him.

  Cheryl’s behavior suddenly made perfect sense.

  Everything about him was rugged perfection, from his rocker garb to the five o’clock shadow on his face. Olive skin and short black hair made his eyes stand out even more than I’d originally noticed. And his full lips…

  They made it hard to look away.

  “See something you like?” he asked, those full lips curling up at one corner.

  “I see someone in my way,” I replied, but it lacked the bite I’d hoped for. I sounded way too breathy for my own good. Bad boys had been my weakness before everything had gone to shit with my family. Since then, I’d only dabbled in them. At least with a bad boy, I knew what I was getting and could plan accordingly. It was the wolves in sheep’s clothing I had a hard time with.

  “I see someone who doesn’t quite look like she fits in around here.” He made a point to look me up and down slowly before smiling wide.

  “Should I get a few more tattoos?” I asked, finally finding my sarcastic tone. I pointed at his neck, where an intricate pattern wound along until it met the stubble on his jaw. “Would that help? Or maybe there’s a secret handshake or something I should know…?”

  “There’s definitely something you should know,” he said, leaning his head near my ear. “Unfortunately, I’m more of a show-er than a tell-er.” He lingered there for a second while I tried to remember to breathe.

  He was upping the ante by the second, and I had no intention of backing down. The fire in my belly—and somewhere a little lower than that—wouldn’t let me.

  “And when those five minutes are up, then what?” I leaned in, using his tactics on him.

  His head dipped low, and the light scratch of his stubble on my ear nearly sent me over the edge. I needed to either jump him or run. There was no in-between. He was the type that dealt only in extremes.

  “Then I’d show you again and again and again until you were properly educated.”

  My breath caught in my throat as I tried to reply. I wondered if that wasn’t for the best. My tone would have undoubtedly given away what I was thinking.

  The strum of a guitar from the stage broke the tension between us, if only for a second. But it was the second I needed to let my head clear so I could stop thinking with my girly bits. He was trouble for sure, and I needed to remind myself of that.

  “Sounds like that’s my cue,” he said, pulling away from me. Without another word, he pushed off the bar, beer in hand, and made his way through the packed crowd, navigating it with an ease and grace that I wouldn’t have thought possible. His swagger as he moved was mesmerizing, and I caught myself staring at him despite my brain’s protests. There were bad boys, and then there were guys like him.

  He made the bad ones look like angels.

  I let out a deep breath and turned back to my drink, slamming it down in one gulp. I made a move to leave, but once the band started to play and the bad boy started to sing, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. I was transfixed. For the next hour, I sat and drank and stared at the lead singer, thinking all kinds of dirty thoughts. The kind you wouldn’t even admit to a best friend—even if I had one.

  When they took a break, I forced myself to leave. I knew I didn’t have the willpower to say no to him, and I didn’t want the fallout that would follow hooking up with a guy like him. Fallout would be a definite.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The next day, I went to the one place I could always find happiness, no matter what was going on in my life: the local animal shelter a few blocks from school. I volunteered on Saturdays (and Sundays, if they needed me), helping out with whatever they needed. I usually found myself with the newest incomers, especially the badly abused dogs. For whatever reason, I seemed to get through to them over time. I had no problem sitting next to a kennel for hours until the cowering dog inside finally crept its way close enough to sniff me. The dogs deserved to be loved.

  And in return, I received the same.

  There was something so peaceful about being around the animals. There was no judgment. No expectations (except for belly pats and ear scratches). And they certainly didn’t know or care who I was. From the second I set foot in the kennels, all they cared about was the fact that I was there. My presence was enough for them. If I could’ve rescued them all on my own, I would have.

  They were worth their weight in gold.

  I walked into the main area and greeted Nancy and Barb, the owners and managers of the facility. They were a pair in life as they were in work, and they were amazing. They, like the animals they cared for, didn’t give a shit about who I was.

  “Ladies,” I said, hanging my coat and purse in the employee room.

  “Eve,” Barb replied, not looking up from her paperwork. “We’ve got a new one in the back. A bait dog. Pit bull. I want you to be careful with that one. She’s worse than any you’ve dealt with before.”

  “Okay. I’ll be careful.”

  “No going in the kennel with her,” Nancy added. “Just to be safe.”

  “Got it.”

  Without another word, I made my way through the kennel area to the room in the back that housed the newcomers and the dogs that needed to be separated from the main housing area. There, in the final kennel on the left, was a black and white pit bull, scars marring her neck and face. The second I neared the kennel, she backed up, growling, her head low.

  “Hey girl,” I said, bending down to appear less threatening. “What’s your name?” I looked up at the clipboard hanging on the door and saw “Sweet Pea” written in fat print at the top. “Sweet Pea, huh? Is that your name? Sweet Pea?”

  Her demeanor didn’t change.

  “Well, Sweet Pea,” I started, sitting down in front of the kennel, “I should probably break this to you gently, but I’m not going to because you’re the kind of dog who’s been through the wringer, and girls like us need to stick together. Here’s the deal: I’m not leaving here until you come sniff me. If you want me to go, you’d better just come over here and do it.” I looked up at her, cowering in the corner of her kennel, and smiled. “Guess it’s gonna be a long day.”

  ***

  Four hours and a sore ass later, I heard the click of nails on concrete coming from inside Sweet Pea’s kennel. I didn’t want to look up and spook her, so ever so slowly, I slid my hand back toward the chain link and kept my gaze pinned on the far side of the room. Her approach was slow and cautious, and I knew if I made the wrong move, we’d be right back at square one again.

  Twenty minutes later, I felt the press of a cold muzzle against my finger. Three sniffs. A snort. Then she ran back into the depths of her kennel. I turned to look at her, sitting with her head a little higher, not a growl to be heard.

  “Good girl,” I cooed at her softly. I remained seated for a few more minutes before slowly standing up, stretching as I did. I felt like an eighty-year-old. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sweet Pea. Maybe I’ll bring you a special treat next time.”

  I gave her a tiny wave, which made her duck her head, then walked away. It wasn’t a breakthrough, but it was progress nonetheless. And with a dog like her, that was huge. I knew what it was like to be her. To be fragile and scar
ed and uncertain. To feel like everyone around you would use or harm you. We were kindred spirits, even if Sweet Pea didn’t know it. And as I walked out of the shelter, I vowed to return the next day and pick up where we’d left off. To work hard to help rehabilitate her so that maybe one day she could have the life I strived to.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Sweet Pea and I had a breakthrough on Sunday after hours of me waiting her out. I’d gone to bed that night ecstatic with our progress. I’d even woken up in a good mood, which was rare for me at the best of times, and lately even more so. I bounced into the kitchen to make coffee and found a buzzkill waiting for me on my phone: a text from Iver, my advisor. It was gruff and to the point. 9:00. My office. So off to his office I went.

  “You summoned me?” I flopped down in the chair across from his desk and scowled, letting him know exactly how much I enjoyed being dragged in there on a Monday morning. His angry expression told me how happy he was about it as well.

  “I’ve had a chance to follow up with some of your instructors since we last met,” he said, reaching behind his desk to open a drawer. He pulled out the same manila folder and dropped in on his desk. It landed with a loud thwack that grabbed my attention. The file had to be heavy to make that much noise. I leaned forward in my seat, reaching for the file, but Iver snatched it away to open it.

  Power move number one.

  “Over half of them said your attendance rate is under fifty percent.”

  “So? I’m still passing.”

  “For now,” he said, looking over at me through his lashes. “Tell me something, Eve. Do you like your TA position in the chemistry department? Like teaching in general?”

  “Well I don’t do it for the money, that’s for damn sure.”

  He closed the folder and pushed it aside, focusing all his attention on me. The strain in his jaw told me I was getting to him, which made me feel a bit better. Like we were on more even ground. I hated feeling powerless.

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “It’s an answer, just not the one you wanted.”

  “Humor me.”

  I let out a put-upon sigh. “Yes, I like teaching for the chemistry department, okay?”

  “Then I have to question why your behavior in your other classes is so reckless. You do realize that if your grades fall, you won’t be allowed to TA any longer, don’t you?”

  “I do enough to keep that from happening.”

  “You were, but it seems you’re dropping dangerously near the point of no longer sustaining that balancing act. Care to tell me why?” I shrugged and sat back in my seat. After a minute of silence, he either got annoyed or realized I wasn’t going to answer him. “Here’s what I know from your file. I know you’re incredibly smart—maybe too smart in some ways—but this attitude of yours… it serves no one but yourself. And I could make an argument that, at this point, it’s not even serving you. So why don’t you cut the shit and tell me why.”

  His change in demeanor startled me for a second. He’d gone from calm and calculated to harsh and aggressive in a heartbeat. I wondered if my advisor didn’t have a little pent-up rage of his own that needed to be let out.

  I’d have preferred it not be unleashed on me.

  “This isn’t part of our deal,” I said, standing up. I snatched my bag off the floor and started for the door, but Iver was there to stop me. His distance was still respectable, but his presence felt hostile in a way as he loomed above me. “Listen, you sent me to that therapist friend of yours and I went. I’m hashing out my issues with him, which means I won’t be doing the same with you. Got it?”

  He looked down at me, his jaw working overtime as he reined in his temper. I understood that feeling, the need to tamp down your feelings before they exploded all over those around you, creating irreparable damage. Maybe in some bizarre way, Iver and I had more in common than either of us would want to admit.

  And certainly never would.

  “Eve,” he started, trying to maintain a civil tone, “my job is to ensure that you succeed here—that your future is set on the right course. Do you understand?” Something about the way he said those words niggled at the back of my mind. Like he was talking about my life beyond school, but not. The way his eyes bore into mine only added to that feeling, like he was willing me to see something I couldn’t possibly see and had no way to understand, even though he seemed to think I should. “Keeping things from me—shirking your responsibilities—leads to consequences. Far-reaching ones. I can see you don’t like me, or any other authority figure for that matter, but that doesn’t mean I’m not integral to your success. Don’t forget that.”

  His eyes stayed focused on mine until the weight of them made me squirm. He stepped aside so I could get to the door, and I walked past him, still struggling with that feeling in the back of my mind. The one that said there was something behind his words. Something important.

  I all but ran until I was clear of the main office and in the hall. My breath was coming hard as I slowed my pace enough to not draw attention to myself. I pushed open the double doors of the building and stepped out into a storm. Rain pelted my face as I made my way to the student union for food. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. Maybe low blood sugar had clouded my thinking when Iver had said what he’d said.

  I grabbed a premade salad out of a cooler and a bottle of juice to go with it, then made my way over to the registers to pay. The same lady that was always sitting there on her swivel stool, playing with her chipped nail polish, rang me up without looking at me and handed me my change.

  I looked beyond her into the cafeteria, hating that I’d have to stay there to eat if I didn’t want to get more drenched than I already was. But my options were limited, so I cased the room while walking the perimeter, trying to find an inconspicuous spot to sit and eat without disruption. I spotted a table near the back that was being vacated as I approached, and I cut through the middle of the room to get there faster. I’d almost reached my destination when a familiar voice rang out through the room so loudly I wondered if Fenris hadn’t used a damn megaphone to achieve that volume.

  Not wanting to acknowledge him, I continued as if I hadn’t heard my name called. Then I heard it again and knew I was screwed.

  “Eve! Wait up!”

  The boy clearly wasn’t self-conscious. I turned to find him jogging toward me with his food tray in hand. The ridiculous smile on his face made me laugh, but I did my best to stifle it. I didn’t want to encourage such displays from him.

  I turned away before he reached me and kept walking, though this time I was headed for the rear exit of the building. Getting wet seemed like a better fate than becoming a public spectacle. I knew what that was like. I’d take a hard pass on that any day of the week.

  Just as I reached the portal to my escape, a large hand clamped down on the push bar and held it in place. No escaping for me.

  “Hey,” he said through a wide smile. His eyes practically lit up with excitement, and it made me instantly suspicious. Anyone that keen on seeing me—especially in a public setting—had ulterior motives. At least that had long been my experience. “You in a hurry to get soaked?”

  “So it seems.”

  He looked down at the salad in my hand, then back at me.

  “Why don’t you eat that here? I’ll keep you company.”

  “I’m not so great with company,” I said, holding his gaze. “I’m kind of a loner, if you hadn’t figured that one out yet.”

  His smile widened. “I’m starting to.”

  “Clever boy.”

  “Does this go back to your whole ‘a girl can never be too careful’ schtick? Because I’m pretty sure we’re in an extremely crowded room full of smartphone-wielding students. The risk factor seems pretty low.”

  “Then I guess you haven’t seen what kind of damage those iPhone-wielding students can do,” I said, leaning against the push bar on the door. His grip on it still held, but his smile did not. It fade
d away slowly, leaving a look of concern in its wake.

  “Eve—”

  “I just need to get to class, that’s all. It’s nothing against you. Promise.”

  He didn’t seem fully satisfied with my response, but he released the bar regardless, allowing me to leave.

  “You’re breaking my heart,” he said, forcing a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

  “I don’t have one, so I can’t relate. I’ll see you around.”

  He gave a little wave as the door closed on him. I could feel him watching me disappear into the veil of rain that seemed to fall harder with every step I took. I was soon running toward the chem building, trying to figure out why a part of me wanted to run back to Fenris.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Eve!” Fenris shouted from down the hall as I exited the class I TA’d. I could hear his heavy footfalls echoing off the cinderblock walls as he ran to catch up. I stifled a laugh so that my stone face would be in effect when he finally caught up. “Wait up!” I pretended I didn’t hear him and just kept walking. Just as I’d expected, he continued his pursuit until he jumped in front of me, looking disheveled from his dash down the hall. “Jesus, you walk really fast.”

  “I walk with purpose,” I corrected. “As every girl should.”

  “Can’t be too careful,” he said.

  “No, Fenris, you sure can’t.”

  “Ha!” he shouted before realizing just how enthusiastic he’d sounded and lowered his voice. “So you remember my name.”

  “Well, in fairness, it’s kind of hard to forget,” I said, continuing on to my tiny TA office.

  “I’m kind of hard to forget,” he countered with a smile.

  “That’s one way to put it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have office hours in a bit, and I need to get a few things done before that.”