Everdark

Elle Jasper Everdark

For the girls at Coffee Buy the Book in Pulaski, Virginia: Tracey, Jill, Steph, Pennie, Ally, Holly, Jill (there’re two!), Janie, Tawana, and the only nongirl, Dan the Man—this one’s yours, guys. Thanks so much for your support, hospitality, and the big freaking production you make for the fan-freaking-tastic book signings you invite me to! It’s the most fun I’ve had as an author yet! For the super readers and fans who show up to support and buy my books, for the food and wine, and for an always-memorable stay at the gorgeous Rockwood Manor— and for the friendship. I thank you. Totally. You make me feel like a rock star!

Acknowledgments

The following people rock at motivating, supporting, and encouraging me throughout the sometimes-grueling (selfinflicted!) and rewarding process of writing a novel. They give that certain special and influential kick in the ass I am so deserving of at times, and for that, I’m eternally grateful. They are my sisters, my best pals—my she-wolf pack! Kim Lenox, Leah Marie Brown, Betsy Kane, Eveline Chapman, Karol Miles, Molly Hammond, Allison Bunton, Valerie Morton, Bhing Dequito, Tyler Homberger, Sheri Dotson, Tracy Pierce, the Denmark Sisterhood, and, as always, my best friend of all—my mom, Dale Nease. You guys freakin’ rock-a-dilly! Thanks for being in my life.

Part One Tainted

“Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world.”

—Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“There’s a part of me that knows Eli wants me forever—as in it’s unacceptable for him to even consider my death, no matter how far into the future it may be. Okay—I like that. Who wouldn’t? Never have I wanted someone so badly, and never has anyone wanted me the way Eli does. But I think he wants to turn me, and that sort of freaks me out. I don’t want to live forever. It’s not . . . natural. I’m not scared of him or anything, but let’s just say I sleep with one eye open.”

—Riley Poe

Da Island, Gullah

Off the coast of Savannah, Georgia

mid-September

“Hold her down!”

Fire ripped through my insides, through my veins, under my skin, deep into my muscles, and I thrashed against the three pairs of strong arms trying to hold me still—I didn’t know why or who they were. I didn’t know where I was. I saw nothing but blood behind my eyes, streaks of crimson blurring my vision, and my head pounded with each sluggish thump of my exaggerated heartbeat. I knew only pain, and I wanted to get the freaking hell away from it, out of the tangled arms trying to restrain me. “Get the fuck off me!” I gritted through my teeth. Their grips tightened. The air was smoldering hot all around me as if it poured from a five-hundred-degree oven. It made the burning inside my body even more intense, and the heavy scent of salt and rotted sea life wafted to me. I wanted to puke.

“I liked it better when she couldn’t move,” a voice I knew but couldn’t place said sarcastically. It had a slight French accent.

I kicked out hard and caught someone on the jaw with my heel. A muffled curse and laughter reached my ears. I didn’t care. I was in friggin’ agony, and getting out of it was all that mattered. I fought harder, growling and spitting. An all-consuming hate filled me. I felt it through my skin, all the way to my bones. Finally, I broke free. I scrambled on all fours but didn’t make it far. Someone’s full body slammed me into the scorching sand, and I lay there, trapped, under the crushing weight—in anguish. I swore, but the sound came out muffled as coarse grains pushed into my open mouth. Whatever was on top of me was squeezing the breath out of me. I coughed. Air had a hard time getting back into my lungs. I wheezed.

“Ease up, Zetty,” another familiar voice said. “You’re pushing her face into the sand. She can’t breathe.”

Zetty? What the hell? An unfamiliar, guttural sound came from the weight trapping me. I bucked, or tried to, anyway.

“Here, give this to her,” another voice said. “Fast.”

“You give it to her, Bro.”

I heard a muttered curse, then felt a sharp pinprick in my ass. I bucked again, hard. I screamed, but it was no use. I lay there in the sand, with a big, heavy-ass Zetty stretched out on top of me as I cursed and wailed, until a drugging, calming haze swept over me, pulling me down. The pain eased, my lids grew heavy, and, finally, shadows crowded me, claiming me. I knew nothing else, and that was freaking fine by me. For however long, I slept.

A breeze drifted over my skin and across my face, and I cracked open my eyes. I anticipated pain, and that unbearable burning, but thankfully, there was none. My vision was blurry, but long shadows fell over me, accompanied by the cooler temperature of the afterlight, making everything around me hazy.

“Hey, you.”

Only then did I notice strong fingers interlaced with mine, and I turned my head and blinked several times until Eli’s face, lit by a kerosene lamp, came into focus. Dark shadows melded against perfect, pale skin, and the contrast made my breath catch. Had I ever feared him? Even now, it was hard for me to imagine his face contorted into the monster I knew he could become. He bent closer, and I inhaled his unique, drugging scent. “Hey,” I said, my voice scratchy, sore, and broken. “What happened? I feel as if a train hit me.” I did, too. My whole body ached, down to the bone—almost to the cellular level. Grinding my teeth together, I noticed grit. Sand?

“Yeah, sand,” Eli said, brushing my hair back from my forehead. “And your body aches because Zetty threw his full weight onto you. Damn, he’s one big Tibetan.” I found a bottle of water pressed to my lips. “Rinse and drink.” I did. Eli then leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine. A thrill shot through me, and my insides fluttered as the pressure of Eli’s lips settled, moved, tasted, caressed.

Possessed.

The pressure eased, and Eli pulled back, his darkening gaze fastened on mine. The small silver hoop still adorned his brow, and I decided I seriously liked it. “You fight like a wildcat.” The corner of his mouth tipped upward into the sexiest grin I’d ever seen. He nuzzled my neck. “Turns me on,” he whispered.

“Yeah, I bet it does, freak,” I said lightly. I laughed, shaking off the erotic shiver that coursed through my body at his seductive words. A powerful surge of desire for Eli gripped me, and, to be frank, it sort of took me off guard. It was strong. And not just midtwenties, hotblooded American girl, horny strong. It was powerful as