Page 36

The ball of spirit hovered before Evan’s face. If he squinted hard enough, he could see two golden eyes blink at him.

“I…have to let her go?”

“You don’t have to. If you wish, you can ask her to stay with you as long as you want. But if you do let her go now, she’ll return to you in the future when you need her the most. Preferably in a form much more efficient than an orb of smoke.”

Evan hesitated, but if he could hold her in a physical form again, nuzzle her soft coat, and see those golden eyes blink at him, he was willing to survive with her memories until she returned.

He pressed the ball of spirit close to his forehead, closing his eyes. “Daddy will wait for you, Misty. I promise. I won’t get another cat. Rue and I will wait for you,” Evan turned towards the window as the ball of spirit bounced reluctantly in his palms. “Come back soon.”

The ball floated off to boop Evan’s nose one last time, before flying away. It rose high into the sky, further and further away then disappeared beyond the clouds.

The commotion in the woods on the night of the fight against Knox didn’t go unnoticed by the townspeople. Fires and flashes of unnatural lighting had illuminated the sky above the grounds of the Old Temple. Some people had wandered close enough to hear growls and shrieks but didn’t have the guts to cross into the restricted area to check it out.

That night, some curious eyes had caught sight of Xen and Zeev carrying Evan and Aaron out of the woods. Words quickly spread that the infamous exorcist of Emberlyn had stirred trouble once again, in the restricted areas no less. Rumors of his “strangely dressed friends” who didn’t look particularly approachable carried across the town.

Evan’s reputation was far from ideal, but that didn’t bother him because he’d earned it through hard labor. But now he had to bear the blame for something he hadn’t done.

He’d saved the entire town from a disaster called Knox but no one knew, neither did they care to ask what had happened. The abducted men had been scared shitless and didn’t possess the mental clarity to recite the horrors they’d witnessed. They just wanted to survive.

Even when Robbie had tried to tell people that Evan had helped them escape from the clutches of the cult—carefully leaving out the part about creatures of the dark and demons—the people waved it away as a post-traumatic blabbering.

Because it was easier making up stories based on people’s preconceived notions than accepting the truth. To admit they were wrong about someone.

On top of all that, Xen had vanished from the face of the earth after dropping Evan home that night. He didn’t even return to check on Evan which was strange considering the demon clearly had attachment issues. With Aaron bedridden, recovering from his own injuries, Evan had no one to talk to.

Or so he’d thought until he found himself at the banks of the sacred river with his over-excited dog hopping about and a silver-haired youth sitting beside him.

Evan flicked a tiny pebble into the river, watching the surface ripple and fishes scurrying away below. Rue, energetic as ever, ran around chasing a butterfly.

Delos glanced at Evan. “What’s troubling you? Is it your friend’s health?”

Evan quietly chucked another pebble in the river.

“The townspeople gossiping?”

Chuck. Plop.

Delos squinted. “Ah, I see. Xen disappeared, didn’t he?”

Evan’s raised hand stilled, then dropped the pebble. He frowned at the river then at Delos. “It’s not about him.”

“Then talk to me. Perhaps I can help?”

Evan stared at the bright-faced youth, momentarily distracted from his chain of thoughts. “Who are you really?”

Delos’s head tipped to the side, silver strands dancing across his forehead and clear blue eyes twinkling. “I am Delos. Your friend.”

“You’re not human.”

At that, Delos stilled. “Then…I’m your well-wisher,” he looked away, letting out a soft sigh. “However, I do wish to be your friend though.”

Evan followed his eyes to the expanse of the river, mulling over his words before responding. “Well, you are my friend, human or not. People are overrated anyways.”

Delos chuckled. “You don’t like humans?”

“I prefer animals. Anything soft with fur.”

“Why would you prefer animals over your own kind?”

Evan paused. His lashes lowered and he picked up a pebble, rolling the smooth stone between his fingers. The seconds dragged on before he finally replied.

“Because people are selfish. They abandon. The worst an animal can do is die on me,” he flicked the pebble into the river. “I’d rather mourn once for someone who’s gone forever than spend every day waiting for someone who might never return.

“I wish we never had you.”

Evan’s eyelids fluttered as the memory surfaced. With a forceful shove, he pushed it back to the unreachable void of his mind.

Some things were best forgotten.

Delos studied his face for a while before dropping his hand and idly picking at pebbles. “Do you know why the river water is so clean?”

Evan glanced at him. “Because it’s always flowing?”

Delos smiled. “Yes. If a river stagnates, the water would no longer be drinkable. The creatures who inhabit it would perish. Hence, to sustain its purity and the lives of all who depend on it, the river flows. Constantly. Freely,” picking up a pristine white pebble, Delos offered it to Evan. “A human life is quite similar.”

Evan hesitated, then took the pebble, and Delos continued.

“If you let yourself stagnate for those who aren’t meant to flow with you, you’ll never reach the deserving ones who await your arrival at the shore,” Delos watched the flowing river with a lazy smile, those all-seeing blue eyes gleaming in the sunlight reflecting off the water. “And sometimes, someone out there will continue to wait—no matter how long it takes, until you finally reach the shore.”

There was a peculiarity about the way he spoke, as though he wasn’t imparting knowledge but retelling an old tale.

Evan fidgeted with the pebble Delos had given him, ready to chuck it into the water—but paused. In the sunlight, the glossy white surface glowed with a bluish undertone. Too pretty to be lost to the riverbed.

After a brief consideration, Evan slid it into his pocket and changed the topic. “You sound like you’ve been around for a while. Tell me, is there such a thing as past lives?”

Delos paused. “Why do you ask?”

Evan shrugged. “Just curious. It’s not always I come across an all-knowing, polite, non-human friend willing to answer all my questions.”

Although he feigned indifference, Delos saw through his act and chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. As for your question, do you believe in past lives?”

Evan regarded the expanse of the river, expression distant. A faint voice in his head tried to override the chaos of his muddled thoughts but failed.

After a moment, he said, “I don’t think I’ve had one.”

As soon as the words left him, a chill crept down Evan’s spine. He whipped around, wide eyes darting around warily.

The isolated dirt trail leading to the town greeted him, trees swaying silently on the opposite side. Not a single soul was in sight other than Rue hopping around madly.

Delos followed his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Huh?” Evan blinked, disoriented momentarily, before settling back. “Yeah… Yeah, fine. I’m just… Guess I’m still recovering.”

Or maybe the last brain cell keeping him sane had expired.

For a moment, it’d seemed as though someone was standing right behind him, and the moment he’d spoken, a rush of intense emotions crawled up his spine like venomous spiders. A strange combination of anger and sorrow followed by a trail of disappointment that still lingered in the air.

Evan blinked furiously to dismiss the off reaction before Delos resumed their conversation.

“So, past lives…” Delos’s crystal blue eyes gazed at the sky, thoughtful. “Every human soul is said to have seven lives. So, rebirth is, in fact, pretty common. Reincantation, however, is not.”

Evan’s lips twitched. “Re incarnation ?”

“Exactly. You see, when a person dies and is reborn in a new physical form, they won’t remember their previous lives. It’s a new beginning. A rebirth. But a re—uh, reincarnation happens when a deep-seated desire or a promise from a past life is left unfulfilled. If the yearning of the soul is strong enough, they will be born again, and might even recall memories from that lifetime.”

Evan nodded, curiosity thoroughly piqued.

It was like he was sixteen all over again, learning about the world of the supernatural from Rhea for the first time. He’d not been scared then either, just curious. Too much for his own good.

“What kind of desires could compel a soul to reincarnate?” Evan asked, images of a white-clad youth and a face so identical to his own floating past his mind.

“It varies individually,” Delos glanced at him. “Sometimes the reason is as moving as a promise of true love. Or as destructive as a desire for revenge.”

As the two sat chatting at the river bank, a silhouette soundlessly passed through the trees behind them. Dark eyes lingered at the back of Evan’s head, red robes fluttering silently in the breeze.

Evan drifted alone through the woods, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket. He had wandered into the town for a stroll, heeding Delos’s suggestion about “flowing like a river.” But after only a few minutes of unwanted side-eyes from the townspeople and whispers following him like ghosts, Evan gave up on socializing and settled for solidarity again.

He dropped Rue back at home in Celie’s care and went on about by himself.

Trees shimmered in the golden glow of the afternoon sun, birds taking flight high in the sky. It was a relatively clear day, even though a few dark clouds lingered here and there as usual.

As Evan approached the area restricted by the road construction workers, he stopped, staring at the rows of yellow caution tape.

After the disappearance of the seven loggers, the area was abandoned by the road construction company. Strangely enough, the CEO of that company suffered a cardiac arrest right before the contract was terminated.

But what bothered Evan was the fact that even though Knox was released a good while ago, months before the Greenes came to Evan with their case, something seemed to have continued to guard the Old Oak.

Evan still had plenty of unanswered questions.

When Knox was already free, why was the Old Oak still being protected? Who was this mysterious person protecting it? Why was the Covenant of Nightshade found loitering around it?

That night when Evan was held captive near the Tomb of Ascension, Aaron had fought against Knox’s control on his mind and came to himself to cry out a warning.

Don’t let them cut it. Don’t let them cut it down .

At that moment, as he watched the cult members drag Aaron away, it hadn’t occurred to Evan that Aaron might be referring to the Old Oak. He’d thought he was confused and blabbering in a moment of panic. But when he’d asked Aaron about it this morning, he’d said he couldn’t remember saying such a thing. Most of his memories were hazy and broken because of how brutally his mind had been manipulated and forced to obey Knox’s command.

The only thing he remembered clearly—other than suffering under Knox’s control—was a beautiful pair of crystal blue eyes that he saw God knew where or when. Evan had hung up on him when he refused to shut up about it.

Evan stared at the yellow caution tapes, then ducked below them. He was used to trespassing into areas especially marked restricted and didn’t bat an eye.

As he strolled into the forest, the hair at his nape spiked, and his skin crawled with awareness. But he kept walking like nothing was wrong. Leaves crunched behind him, bushes rustled and his ears picked up a faint breathing.

After meandering for a while, the Old Oak appeared at a distance, looming vast and mighty. Evan stopped, eyes on the tree as he spoke. “You can come out now.”

No response.

“I know you’re there.”

Silence.

Evan turned. “Mila.”

An old, haggard woman poked her head out from behind a tree trunk, wide eyes sunken and confused. Straws of hay spiked from her tangled grey hair as she stood up. Her clothes were tattered to the point that it was impossible to tell whether it was a dress or a bedsheet wrapped around her.

He knew it was her. Only a crazy person would wander so deep into these woods and currently, there were only two crazy people in Emberlyn.

Evan and old Mila.

“Lingering here is dangerous, you know?” Evan said. “Go back to town.”

“You,” she pointed at him, voice raspy and hoarse from lack of use, “go back.”

Staring at her for a moment, he tilted his head. “Why? Have you seen anything dangerous around here?”

Mila eyed Evan warily then glanced around, wide eyes surveying the woods. Clearly, she didn’t trust him, and he appreciated her sense of Stranger Danger.

The only person miraculously alive after wandering in this area was Mila. Perhaps because she was old or because she was crazy. Whatever the reason, she was the only person who could give Evan answers about the Old Oak and its secrets. He’d only been partly certain to find her in the woods and now that he’d found her…

He’d have to give her something first to gain her favor.

Evan dug into his pocket and fished out the green earring of the Covenant of the Nightshade. He’d retrieved it from Aaron this morning.

Perhaps Mila could tell him why Victor’s spirit had it on him.

Mila’s eyes instantly latched onto the green stone, and she involuntarily stepped forward. “That…”

Evan held the earring out to her. “Victor gave this to me.”

Well, Xen had snatched it, but…whatever.

Mila’s dazed eyes momentarily cleared and she choked on a sob. With a trembling hand, she took the earring and clutched it to her chest. “Oh, Victor… My Victor…”

She crouched near a tree, curling in on herself as she cradled the earring close.

Evan stared at her, unblinking.

How could someone love another so deeply that they lost their mind, their heart, and themselves in the wake of their death, Evan couldn’t understand. Love was supposed to be beautiful. It was supposed to be comforting. When love became painful, wasn’t it better to give it up?

Crouching beside Mila, Evan watched the oak at a distance. He was silent for a moment but his limited patience ran out and he cut to the point. “Do you know why a tree was dropped on your house?”

Mila’s shoulders trembled.

“Because someone wanted to protect the Old Oak,” Evan continued then turned to her. “Do you know anything about it?”

Mila peeked at the oak through teary, hollow eyes. Her hazy, aged gaze squinted as though seeing through the vast tree and into its dark secrets.

Her dry, cracked lips parted to croaked out, “They said…if I brought him, they will give me back…my husband.”

Evan gauged her carefully. “Brought whom?”

Suddenly, Mila jolted upright. The air of sorrow vanished from her person, replaced by unbearable thrill and joy. Evan could sense it, which meant she wasn’t faking it.

Her face cracked into a grin, bloodshot eyes wide as she stared at the oak. “Victor!”

Evan followed her gaze to the tree, but there was no one. She was hallucinating. Before Evan could confirm, Mila broke into a run.

“Wait!” Tripping and stumbling from the momentary surprise, Evan chased after her. “Stop running. It’s not safe!”

The woman, although frail-looking, ran unnaturally fast. Her shrill cries echoed in the woods as she wailed her husband’s name. Evan could barely keep up.

As he neared the outstretched twisted branches that coiled like a huge serpent around the trunk, Mila suddenly vanished.

Evan lurched to a stop, eyes darting around, but the silhouette of the woman was nowhere in sight.

He called for her. No response.

That wasn’t a surprise.

She had been wandering this area for God knew how long and was familiar with every nook and corner of the woods. If she wanted to hide, it would take Evan a solid while to find her.

Damn it. I could have asked her a few more questions.

As he was busy looking around the twisted branches and overgrown bushes, without his notice, a translucent veil slowly descended over the expanse of the ancient tree, stretching taut over it before turning transparent.

Its energy was faint, nearly imperceptible. If Evan wasn’t so agitated, his sharp senses would have caught it.

He frowned, then scratched his temple.

Where the hell did she go?

It was useless. Mila wouldn’t come out now. And with the earring in his grasp, Evan couldn’t tempt her into answering any questions either.

The only way to draw her out was through Victor. Summoning his spirit wouldn’t be a huge deal for a seasoned exorcist like Evan. With a sigh he turned to leave, only to pause as something caught his eye.

Evan paused, before approaching the enormous trunk of the oak.

Torn paper talismans and spell-woven threads lay scattered, likely by the workers who’d ripped them off the tree for fun. But Evan’s attention was drawn to something else.

A jagged branch jutted from the trunk like the tree had sprouted a nose—but when Evan drew closer, he realized it wasn’t a branch at all.

It was a nail. A huge iron nail, almost as big and thick as his forearm. It was embedded deep into the trunk of the oak, flakes of iron peeling off of the old iron shaft. Pulling it out with his bare hands would be impossible for someone like Evan whose only strong muscle was his tongue.

Yet, Evan stared at it, he felt an uncomfortable tug in his chest, making his brows stitch together. A strong, almost physical urge to pull that nail out stirred within him.

Impulsive thoughts?

Evan reached up, intending to try and pull it out. There was no resentment or malice on the nail, so it definitely didn’t contain a spirit inside the tree. But as soon as his hand wrapped around the protruding shaft of the nail, Evan stilled.

The nail was warm. Too warm. As if its other end was sitting in a pot of boiling water. As if it was alive.

Evan blinked in bewilderment then glanced at his hand holding the nail as wetness gathered at his fingertips.

A dark trail of red oozed from the nail, trickling down his hand and drenching the sleeve of his hoodie. A metallic scent pierced his nostrils.

With a curse, Evan jerked back but when he tried to wrench his hand away, he couldn’t. He gripped his arm with his free hand and tried to pry it off the bloody nail but it wouldn’t budge.

His fingers were glued around the iron shaft.

To his horror, that trail of blood was moving unnaturally up his arm. Like a bloody worm, it slithered across his shoulder, his collarbone, heading towards his chest.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Panic and dread turned his insides to mush. Evan whipped his head around, trying to find something to grab onto and yank his hand away from the nail.

But when his eyes landed on a figure crouched outside the perimeter of the oak, he paused.

Mila rocked on her heels, hugging her knees with a mad gleam in her eyes. “They said if I brought him, they would give me back my husband… Give me back my husband… My husband…”

Realization dawned on Evan, albeit a little too late.

The him she was referring to was none other than Evan himself. And she had lured him to the oak. It wasn’t Evan who sought out Mila, but the other way around. But how had she known that Evan would come to the woods?

A figure flashed behind her, so swift it was all but a blur. It wasn’t until a hand pierced the back of Mila’s neck and out through the front, that his presence was registered.

Mila’s grin froze, her cackle reduced to a bloody gurgle.

Evan’s breath hitched.

The figure in red pulled his hand out of Mila’s neck, leaving behind a gaping hole overflowing with blood. As Mila’s corpse tumbled to the side, Xen straightened, eyes cold, remorseless.

Evan gaped at him, unsure whether he was looking at the real Xen or a poorly crafted illusion of him. “Xen…?”

Dark eyes rose to meet Evan’s but Xen didn’t step closer. Heavy demonic energy wafted off him like black steam as he reached forward with his bloody hand and pressed his palm against the air, against an invisible wall. When he lowered his hand, there was a bloody handprint left on the transparent barrier erected around the oak.

Xen couldn’t break into it.

Evan’s eyes widened when he realized he was trapped inside. But before he could rake his brain for a way out, a prickling sting stirred in Evan’s chest.

One hand still stuck to the nail, he pulled the neck of his hoodie away, staring down at his chest.

The bloody worm stopped right over his heart. Its liquid tip hardened, elongating into a fine needlepoint. Before he could react, the needle pierced into Evan’s chest.

“No, no, no—” he clutched his arm tight, intending to block the blood flow but to no avail. More blood oozed from the rusted nail, trickled down the body of the bloody worm, and pumped the dark liquid directly into his heart.

As soon as the blood flowed into his body, Evan hunched over with a scream, clawing at his chest.

Hot. It was hot. Too hot.

It burned .

Molten lava dripped into his veins, boiling his blood, and desecrating his organs. Someone screamed. Maybe it was him, or maybe Xen. Evan couldn’t tell.

The more that alien blood pumped into his chest, the faster his strength and energy drained. Helplessly, he slumped against the tree trunk.

A face flashed before his closed lids.

It was his face—only younger, softer—smiling at someone with unrestrained warmth.

No. It wasn’t Evan. That smile held no dimple.

The person he was smiling at stood at a distance, hands folded behind his back, dark robes fluttering around him, long raven hair swaying. At the sound of the youth’s chuckle, he turned.

Dark brows, impassive face.

Scarlet eyes.

Xen.

Voices faded. The world blurred around Evan until nothing remained. Empty.

But just before darkness swallowed everything, Evan heard a voice—a desperate call eerily like Xen’s. Yet it wasn’t Evan’s name he was shouting.

“—den.”

“—arden.”

“ Carden! ”