chapter 3
Hearts like Broken Glass
Laken
Rain falls in sheets, causing the lights at Austen House to flicker every now and again, followed by a sizzle of lightning bold enough to illuminate the secrets of the night. But not even a lightning storm of this magnitude can detour Flynn from bouncing onto my bed with expectations that will never be met.
“And by the way”—I take a seat at my desk and flip open my laptop—“don’t ever come into the library and start talking shop with Wes in the vicinity. That’s sloppy. One misstep and I’ll be the offering at the next unholy slaughter.”
“Got it.” He groans while getting comfortable on my mattress. “Let’s get my sister out of hock, and we won’t have to worry about me interrupting your suck-face time with Romeo. And what’s up with that? I thought you and Coop had something going.”
“Nope.” I’m quick to deflect the accusation. “The old Wes is trapped in that body, and it’s my responsibility to get him out. He’d do the same for me. Besides, didn’t you hear? Coop is taking Grayson to homecoming.”
Flynn gives a little laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” A guilty grin spreads over his face. Flynn is gorgeous in that surfer-boy-next-door kind of way.
“Something’s up—spill it.”
“Last summer Coop was messing with her for kicks, and I was, too.” He shrugs. “No big deal, unless you’re Cooper keep-away-from-my-girl’s-crotch Flanders. He was pretty pissed when he found out.”
My mouth falls open at the revelation.
Flynn averts his eyes for a moment. “Grayson didn’t think it was that big of a deal either—so don’t go painting me like some big bad wolf.”
“Cooper was messing with Grayson?” My dinner does a solid revolution in my stomach, and suddenly I want to hurl it across the room at Flynn for the hell of it. And in no way do I want a definition of the word messing.
“Yeah, so? I was, too. Grayson gets around. She’s not a trophy catch like you.” He tosses Casper’s old teddy bear at me.
“What’s a trophy catch?” I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know, but if my girl parts are up for a prize, I should be enlightened.
“Trophy catch, you know—hard to get. You’re probably a virgin, so it’s made of win.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not, so I guess my stock just tanked.” Tucker Donavan runs through my mind like an armed robber bagging my vagina and taking off with it like some million dollar heist. Only, I gave it away for far less than a million dollars—I believe a cheeseburger and the backseat of his Camaro were involved.
“No kidding, huh? You sleep with that fake Wes of yours?”
Fake Wes. I know I’ve referenced Wes that way before, but I don’t like the way it sounds coming from Flynn. I’m wondering if it was a good idea to let him in on everything or if I should have taken Coop’s advice and kept him on a need to know basis.
“Unfortunately, it wasn’t Wes—wasn’t Coop either.” I thought I’d cut him off at the pass with that last tidbit of info, but my heart mourned for one just like it did the other. I can’t have both, so either way I’m heading toward heartache.
“Well, if you’re in need of something quick and dirty.” He plucks a condom out of his pocket. “I’m always ready to serve at the feet of a queen like you. I don’t bite unless you want me to, and I always say please and thank you.”
“Wow, you’re a real gentlemen.”
My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Coop.
Home yet?
I text him back. Sitting in my room with Flynn.
Flynn is a mattress magnet. Keep a safe distance.
I give a soft laugh.
Where are you? Maybe he’s at work? If he is, I might have to cure my sudden craving for Mexican food. I can feel a serious appetite coming on, and very little of it has to do with satiating my stomach.
He texts right back. Austen House—three doors down. Updating software for a friend. Almost through. We need to talk before I leave.
My heart drops like a stone. Grayson’s room is three doors down. Cooper was “messing” with her last summer, and Flynn injected himself into the situation. Maybe if he hadn’t stuck his little head in the way they’d still be together? But he’s in her room, touching her software, and the thought makes my blood boil like lava just beneath my skin.
“Anything you want to share?” Flynn nods toward my phone.
“That was Coop.” I stare down at it before tossing it to the foot of my bed. “He’ll be over in a few minutes.”
“Coop.” He makes a face before springing up to his feet. “That’s my signal. God forbid he think I’m trying to tap his fountain.”
Fountain? I’ll let this one slide.
“I’m thinking a nice long walk will get me somewhere.” Flynn gazes out of the blackened window in the direction of the forest.
“To do what? Feed a Spectator what’s left of your brain?” I’m sure there are more than a few zombies just waiting for a delicacy like Flynn Masterson to wander into those woods. And, judging by his eagerness to run toward danger, I bet that cranium of his is filled with an entire stack of stupid. His brain might actually harm Spectators, not cure them. Flynn should consider stamping an FDA warning across his forehead as a courtesy to the coffin-challenged creatures.
He makes a face as he heads toward the door. “There’s nothing wrong with my brain, Laken. I’ve got a sister who’s being assaulted in God knows how many ways, and I’m not about to sit around and wait for you to unlock the combination to Wesley’s Levis.”
Great. Now I feel like shit.
“We’re not waiting for me to unlock the combo to anybody’s Levis. Besides I’m heading to a new ritual this Wednesday. I’m getting in deeper.”
“What ritual?” He opens the door an inch.
“Wes said I’d be a Treasure.”
“Another waste of time.” He lets out a sigh. “It’s the Counts version of the Girl Scouts. I wouldn’t rely on that getting you anywhere.”
“Maybe it’s the next step. Maybe after, Wes will take me to another ritual, and it’ll be the one that leads to the neck of my mother.” It disgusts me to even think about.
Flynn shakes his head. “I would have never guessed that about the Counts—the blood, and guts, and gore—the kidnapping.” His eyes gloss over. “That’s the ritual you need to get to—get us to their f*cking hideout. I don’t know what’s stopping you from shaking the shit out of Wes.” His eyes flare with anger. “If you don’t, I will.” Flynn slams the door behind him and it coincides with the thunder booming overhead.
Crap.
Flynn Masterson is a loose cannon. If he does end up taking a walk in the forest, I might just root for the Spectator.
Cooper doesn’t show. Instead, Jen barrels into the room like a hurricane and begins tossing things into an overnight bag.
“Did you see Cooper out there?” I’m embarrassed to even ask. I know full well Grayson is pulling out the double D stops to keep him from exiting her bedroom, especially since his next destination happens to concern me.
“Yeah, and I sent him home.” She looks indignant. “He had some lame excuse that he was installing something in Grayson’s hard drive.” She rolls her eyes. “There’s no way he’s knocking her up on my watch.”
Should have known Jen was responsible in some small way. As the official Austen House cock-blocker she’s pretty much on the scent of any testosterone carrying team member.
“I’ll be staying downstairs tonight,” she says without breaking her frenetic rhythm. “I checked out the old den mother’s room, and didn’t find a leak—so I changed the sheets, and I’m good to go. Your new roommate, Hattie, should be here in less than ten.” She slams the drawer shut. “Be nice to her, would you?”
“I’ll be a saint.” Just knowing Hattie Tobias will be sawing Z’s less than six feet away is already robbing me of a good night’s sleep. But she wouldn’t hurt me, right? I mean we have the same goals. She wants to help her family, and I want to help mine.
Maybe this is a good thing? But I’m betting not.
I shoot a quick text to Coop while Jen deep sixes everything she can into her plethora of duffle bags.
My new roomie is on her way.
There’s a soft knock at the door, and Jen lets Hattie in with her fresh from the fifties hair style, her dark cesspools for eyes, and that candy-coated smile that tells you she would just as soon strangle you in your sleep as she would lend you her best wool sweater.
My phone buzzes, but I ignore it momentarily as Jen and I meet with the newly resurrected.
“I’ve got most of my things,” Jen announces, saddling herself with excess baggage. “I should clear out by tomorrow. If you have any questions, Laken will be more than happy to help you. Don’t stay up too late, that’s my only rule.” She hedges her way out the door and blows me a kiss. “No boys!” She shouts as the door shuts behind her.
“No boys?” Hattie growls it out with the undertones of a laugh. “We know better don’t we, Laken.”
There’s something concerning about the deep octave of her voice just took. She held a tenor usually reserved for a man, and that more than slightly creeps me out. But, then again, she’s not exactly naturally engineered, so I can’t really blame her.
“So how’d you do it?” I ask, hopping onto my mattress. “How’d you score a ride on the flesh express?”
She glides over to my bed as if she were a poltergeist. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” She narrows a hostile gaze in my direction. “Let’s get started on finding my family, shall we?”
“Like now? Good luck with that. Rumor has it Flynn might be up for a stroll through the haunted forest, but I’ll be the last one you get out in those woods without the false security of daylight. Let’s get some sleep and recharge those borrowed batteries of yours, first.”
She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t move. Hattie Tobias has no clue how to act like a human. I guess sixty years without practice will do that to a disembodied person.
“Are you just going to stand there, staring at me all night? I gawk up at her, more than slightly freaked out by her resurrected presence.
My phone buzzes from under my leg, and I reach for it. It’s a text from Coop.
Your new roommate isn’t Hattie Tobias. It’s a Fem.
I snatch my backpack off the floor and run like hell out of Austen House.
Cooper
Laken barrels into the road just as my truck rounds out the driveway above Austen House.
She jumps in and slams the door behind her, manually punching down the lock.
“Drive.” She pants with enough fear pulsating out of her chest to fuel a generator.
“Are you okay?” Obviously, she’s not okay. Obviously, I’m an idiot for thinking it was all right to text her vital information that had the potential to scare the living shit out of her and send her running in my direction. And, unfortunately for Laken, I’m an ass because deep down inside, this is exactly what I wanted.
“Jen moved out of the room, and Hattie—that thing—showed up. She has these soulless eyes, and she just kept staring at me. There’s no way in hell I’m going back there.”
“Laken,” I push her name out with grief as I pull in behind the cedars just beyond the granite Ephemeral Academy sign. “I don’t think it’s going to hurt you.”
“What the hell are you talking about? You want to send me back there?” Her chest heaves out of her uniform, and I get lost for a moment watching her flesh quiver.
“No, I don’t want to send you back. But if I thought you were in any danger whatsoever, I would never have waited all day to tell you. The Tobias sisters showed up earlier for their regularly scheduled haunting and were less than impressed to find out someone, or something, had taken up residency here on campus in their name. I talked to my dad, and he seems to think it’s a Fem.”
“Why?” Moisture glistens her eyes.
“Because they’re twisted.” I feel like a jerk for scaring the shit out of her. “What do you want to do for tonight?” I’m half-afraid she’ll be in Wesley’s arms within the hour. That she’ll want me to drive her to Henderson, and I’ll have the image of her running up the steps to meet him immortalized in my mind forever like some unwanted screensaver.
“Where are you going, Coop?” She cuts me a sharp look.
A smile plays on my lips. Laken knows damn well where I’m going.
“I’m going home,” I say it just above a whisper.
“Well then, I guess I’m coming with you.”
The moonlight streams in through the skeletal branches of the cedar, the dappled light softens over her features, illuminating her like some otherworldly goddess.
My adrenaline soars as I start up the engine and head back onto the highway.
The road smooths beneath the tires and a pinhole of light emerges in the distance as we speed toward the first stoplight in Trinity County. We’re escaping the nightmare world of Ephemeral if only for a night.
I’m heading home with Laken by my side.
It looks like Wesley’s nightmare is just beginning.
The lights are on in the house, making the windows glow a soft orange. Pumpkins line the porch on either end as I step aside, letting Laken walk ahead of me.
“I love it.” She nods up at the window that Marky attacked with construction paper. A wrought iron gate with a frightened cat decorates the picture window out front. A full moon with a bat slicing through the center greets us from the kitchen. Halloween and Christmas is pretty much what Marky lives for this time of year. Sorry to the turkey. He always seems to get the shaft.
“Everything looks so homey.” Laken takes in a breath as if Marky’s artwork belonged in a gallery.
The doorknob spins, and Marky’s little face appears, murky, from the other side of the screen.
“Laken!” She does a little bunny hop before letting us inside.
“Marky!” Laken matches her enthusiasm.
“I thought I’d bring home a friend.” I give my sister a half-hug. “How many times have I told you to look out the window before opening the door?” I say it mostly in jest, but I’d hate for Marky to find herself in hot water one day because she didn’t heed my advice.
I pull off my jacket and toss it on the couch.
Dad has taken off to Boston on another one of his conferences, leaving behind the latchkey princess and me to hold down the fort.
“I didn’t need to look out the window,” Marky smarts. “I heard your voice.” She jets out her hip to emphasize her sarcasm. Marky squeals and wraps her arms tight around Laken’s waist. “I miss you.” It comes out sweet enough, but there’s desperation buried beneath her words, and I’m heartbroken for her, slightly embarrassed by the scene all together.
“I missed you, too.” Laken plants a kiss over Marky’s head, and her eyelids tremble as if she were about to cry. “How about a movie?” She looks to me for approval.
“No way. It’s nine.” I shake my head. “She’ll be a zombie in the morning if she stays up any later.”
Marky balks at me with the attitude of a thousand angry teenagers. “You always ruin everything.”
“We’ll do it another time.” Laken is quick to rectify. “I promise.” She strokes her hair before ushering her toward the stairs.
“Will you tuck me?” Marky’s mouth falls open as if the idea hadn’t dawned on her until now but it was such a fantastic one that she could hardly absorb it.
“You bet. I’ll meet you up there in five.” Laken beams a smile. She warms the entire house with her larger-than-life presence.
I’d mention the fact that Jen is going to kill her—that she probably has Austen House swarming with an army of detectives by now, but I’m not up for ruining the moment, so I don’t say a word.
“I’ll get you some blankets. You like your pillow soft or hard?” A smile tugs on my lips when I say it. It seems like everything turns into sexual banter with her, with or without any effort. Laken seems to pull the dirty perv out of me without even trying.
“Soft or hard?” She mouths the words with a river of laughter bubbling from her chest. “I don’t plan on sleeping down here, Coop. I very much plan on sleeping right next to you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think that would be setting a great example for Marky.” I’d hate to fast forward ten years and find some goofball lying in her bed while she throws Laken in my face.
“I’m sleeping in your room, Coop,” Laken says it with an easy smile. “Either that or you can take up the couch with me, but I’m not leaving your side.”
The idea of arguing with Laken over, of all things, sleeping arrangements seems laughable. Dad isn’t home. Marky will be out like a rock in less than fifteen minutes, and I have the girl of my dreams ready and willing to cozy up with me all night long. I’d be a fool not to agree to her demands.
“Looks like we’re going to have a sleepover.” I give a devilish grin.
“Looks like we are.”
Marky makes sure both Laken and I read her a story, which I find amusing on many levels. I haven’t read her a bedtime story in about six years, but something about her turns into a four-year-old whenever Laken is around, so I guess it makes sense. It’s clear she misses Mom, and Laken is like the big sister she never had.
I shut the door to my bedroom and lock it—not that Marky has ever wandered into my room at night, but something tells me the odds are a little higher with Laken here.
“I put the couch together downstairs to make it look like a body is taking up residence,” I say. “If we hear Marky scream, we’ll know why.”
Laken plops on my bed with her shoulder hiked up on one side, her mouth pouting in my direction as if she were trying to seduce me.
Shit.
I hadn’t noticed she took off her blazer and unbuttoned her blouse. I can see her pink lace bra peering out, and my boxers twitch with excitement over what this might mean.
“Do you have a T-shirt I can borrow?” She bats her lashes at me. “That’s all I really need.”
Things are not going to end well for Wes if she lounges around on my bed wearing nothing more than a T-shirt.
I dig out a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt, guaranteed to cover every square inch of her from the neck down.
“Socks,” I say, tossing a pair of knee-highs over in the event she tries to seduce me with her feet. She could. She’s that damn beautiful.
Laken doesn’t hesitate digging her thumbs into her skirt and peeling it off.
“Whoa.” I turn around and listen to the rustle of her clothes as if it held the secret to nuclear detonation codes. Unfortunately for me, something in my pants wants to detonate in the worst way possible.
“I knew you were too much of a gentlemen to watch,” she purrs. I glance up at the blackened glass of the window and accidentally catch Laken stripping herself clean. Her creamy flesh glows against the backdrop of night. She pulls her arms behind her back and unhooks her bra, smooth in one quick stroke, just the way I imaged in my dreams. Her breasts explode, round and perky with rose-colored nipples staring back at me as if they knew what I was up to.
A groan gets buried deep in my chest, and I try to look away but my eyes have glued themselves to her reflection.
How the hell am I suppose to sleep next to that?
The curve of her hip catches my attention as it shows off her sheer lace panties, and I memorize her form and beauty for my mental musings—the shower.
Laken pulls on the sweats unceremoniously and flops back on the bed.
“Coop?”
“Yup?” I say, digging out a pair of sweats for myself as well. I don’t make it a habit to sleep in anything other than boxers, but tonight I’m making an exception. I’m sure Wes would appreciate that. There’s no doubt if Fems are infiltrating campus that they’re watching us at any given time. Not that I plan on letting a couple of prying Fems ruin the night. Nope. Tonight, I’d like to see Laken hone in some serious feelings just for me, but I doubt that’s possible. Laken has serious feelings for the Wes she once knew. If Laken and I ever did get together, she’d still most likely have Wes popping through her mind in screenshots. She’s in that deep.
“What’s up?” I yank my sleeping bag out of the closet and lay it over the floor.
“Why is there a Fem parading around as Hattie Tobias?”
“They want to mislead us.” I shrug. “It’s probably not too big a challenge for them to figure out what we’re up to.”
“You said she mentioned she wanted to find her family.” Laken’s eyes round out.
“I think maybe she wants to get us off track.”
“Flynn’s ready to go off on his own.” She blows out an anxious breath. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he were off in the woods right now.”
Crap. “He’s such a moron,” I whisper, rubbing my palm in my eye while trying to forget about him and his impulse decisions that have the power to yank me out of a bedroom with Laken. “I fully expect a distress text while he’s getting his brains sucked through his eyeball.”
Laken buries her face in the pillow. Her sweatshirt rises up her back, and I can make out her underwear peering over the elastic.
“Tell me that can’t happen.” She takes a hold of my hand, and pulls me next to her on the mattress.
“It can, and it will.” I bring her fingers to my mouth and bury a kiss over her thumb. “Flynn is an idiot. Expect moronic things to occur, regularly and without reason.”
She reels me in closer, and I inspect the newfound curves my lucky sweats adhere to.
“I don’t like this,” she whispers.
“Okay,” I tease, trying to get up, but she pulls me down with a laugh trapped in her throat.
“I’m afraid, Coop.” Gone is her playful demeanor, replaced with a childlike innocence that makes me want to shelter her from the world. “I don’t like being afraid.” Her silver eyes reflect fear like a mirror as she shivers next to me.
I pull back the sheets and she slinks under the covers. My arm rides low over her waist and I hold her like that a good while.
“Don’t be afraid, Laken,” I whisper, tracing her brow with my finger. “Be strong. I’ll hold you up.” I reach for her hand again. “I’ll never let you fall.” I’d be lying if there weren’t horrific things she should fear, for instance why the Counts have taken such an overt interest in her.
“They don’t like the fact I can remember,” she says, rubbing her thumb against my palm.
My thoughts are wide open. She’s able to hear them all, like a field with no barriers, but nothing of real interest to listen to.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be afraid.” I pull the covers up over her shoulders, and she slips them back down, patting a space for me next to her.
“Would you hold me again? Just for a few minutes?” It comes out more of a plea from a child than a seductress, so I crawl underneath and wrap an arm around her waist.
“Can you turn off the light?” She adjusts her head into the pillow as if sleep were a real option, so I lean over and comply.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were asking me to spend the night, right here next to you,” I say with a little too much hope in my voice.
“Maybe I am.” A seam of moonlight sprays throughout the room. It washes away every last hue and dips us into a black and white world. Laken catches my gaze and holds it. You could feel the electrical charge thicken around us, enveloping us in one hell of a power surge.
Her lips hedge toward mine, and she freezes. Laken wants a kiss, hell I want a kiss, but she doesn’t want to initiate it. She’ll only come so far. The rest is up to me.
“Laken,” I blow it out in a whisper through the silk of her hair. “It’s not right.” I don’t say his name. I try to block Wes from my thoughts, but he pulsates in and out of my mind like a demonic shadow.
“I know.” She turns the other way and scoots in a little closer. “But I really need you, Coop. I need you keeping me safe. Wes can’t comfort me. He’s one of the very things that scare me.”
Laken pushes her bottom into my stomach and wraps my arms tight around her waist until we’re spooning.
“I wish I could say I’m sorry,” I whisper. “That it sucked of me to be comforting Wesley’s whoever-the-hell-he-is girlfriend, but I’m not. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you.”
Laken presses in with her spine against my chest. She reaches back and touches my neck, setting my insides on fire.
“I appreciate your honesty,” she rasps into the dark. “I hope you don’t mind if I’m honest, too.” Laken presses deeper into me as if she were trying to push through. “This is the only place I want to be. You’re the roof protecting my sanity, the walls holding up my will to survive. The Counts cast their shadow over my life and you cast the light.” We bask in silence on the heels of her ego-inflating words as I drink them down, swill them around in my mind and savor them. Laken smooths her back over my chest and fills me in on the Treasure ceremony, Wednesday night. “But I would totally rather watch a movie with you and Marky,” she says. “What do you think I should do?”
I press my lips together and take her in as the moon glows over her like silver. Laken trusts me, she wouldn’t go if I told her not to. A part of me doesn’t want to send Laken to any more brainwashing ceremonies. God forbid they achieve their purpose.
“I think it’s important you go.” I try to sound casual like I weren’t secretly disappointed. “We’ll do the movie another time.”
“Flynn says the Treasures are no big deal—that I need to dig deeper.”
“He might be right. Probe Wes. Find out where he’s getting the blood. Maybe play a mental game and catch him reading your mind, call him out on it and tell him you want those powers—so you can be just like him.”
Laken goes rigid. She holds a breath for longer than a minute before exhaling and melting back into me.
“I will. I’ll make sure we get our families back as quick as possible.”
Our families. Laken feels like family. She feels like she was made just for me. As if this interstate kidnapping—this horror that the Counts have brought upon us—was meant to be.
An hour slips by with Laken writhing her hips into my lap every few minutes. She pulls my arm under her soft chest and my boxers spring to life. I try to move and hide the evidence, but she follows me with her body.
“I think I’d better sleep on the floor.” I pop up on my elbow and scoot back.
She twists to face me.
“Why?” Laken snatches my fingers and holds on for dear life. A pale wash of moonlight rinses out her features, soft as marble. I glance down and see her nipples protruding from my sweatshirt like sirens.
“Because there’s only so much I can take before I cave. I’m a guy, we’re weak.”
A soft laugh trembles from her. “Oh, I don’t know—if a strong guy like you could take on a zombie or two, I think you could handle sleeping next to me in a bed for a few hours.” She looks at me from under her lashes, beckoning me to stay.
I take her in like this, a platinum goddess against the black velvet of my bedroom. She pushes back a notch, and I can make out the silhouette of her body—a perfect hourglass that I’d love to manhandle for the next few hours. And if she grinds those hips into me one more time, I just might.
She licks her lips awaiting an answer, and my hard-on blooms to life.
“Like I said”—I climb over her—“I’ll take the floor.”
Wesley
Tuesday, while the skies turn an ashen sage and the hillsides glow neon from the deluge of rain, I walk Laken to her final class of the day, cheer.
“Do I wear anything special tomorrow night?” Her eyes glow against the sodden backdrop. The Minotaur hovers behind her with his overexposed bonze eminence and makes Laken look like a Greek goddess from long ago. I could be the warrior who’s trying to free her from captivity—the stronghold of her mind.
I brush my thumb against the high ridge of her cheek. She’s so perfect it doesn’t seem believable. Every person has a flaw to call their own, some more discernable than others, but Laken remains unblemished—the perfect canvas, the landscape of Eden.
“You’re amazingly handsome.” She winces when she says it.
I give a little laugh. “I was thinking the same thing about you. God’s a true artist. You’re living proof.” I kiss her hand. “And, about the ceremony, wear whatever you want. They’ll give you a robe when you get there. It’s already been sanctified, so you can enter the chamber. Jen knows the way. I’ll have her bring you. I need to be there early to help set up.”
“But I want to go with you. I can help set up. I promise I won’t get in the way. I’d much rather be with you than Jen.” She interlaces our fingers and gives a squeeze.
I glance past her as the fog rolls onto the field. Some of the cheerleaders have already straggled out and are warming up. In the distance I can see the football players, Flanders looks away just as our eyes meet. Figures. I’m sure he likes to keep an extra eye on Laken at all times. I talked to Hattie—heard he didn’t score. Not that it surprises me.
Laken’s eyes widen as if she’s just remembered something.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” She glances onto the field and lowers her gaze. “So, after the ceremony, we’ll be closer than ever. I mean, I’ll be in all the same clubs that you are, right? I want to do everything with you, unless that freaks you out.” A nervous smile twitches on her lips.
“Of course, I want that. You couldn’t freak me out if you tried.” The Tenebrous Woods flash through my mind—those dark, twisted tree limbs that are set to decapitate if you take the wrong turn, the screams—those horrible, deafening screams. I mentioned it once to Edinger. He said they were looking into severing the vocal cords of repeat offenders, but I think the silence would be worse. Just knowing they wanted to cry out and couldn’t, would be far more heartbreaking.
Laken’s eyes tear up, and she gives a hard sniffle.
“You okay?” I wrap my arms around her and brush a tender kiss over her cheek.
“I think I might be catching a cold, either that or allergies.” She shakes her head. “So you never answered the question. Am I all caught up on your extra curricular activities?” She looks crestfallen as if she already knows the answer long before I give it.
“Yes.” I push out a little smile. “Sort of. There might be one more thing, but it’s a surprise.” God, I’d love to bond with Laken that way. Bring her to the woods and teach her how to take blood—to take the powers that are rightfully ours to begin with. Although, I wouldn’t be so anxious to watch her suck off some guys neck, and I doubt she’d be thrilled to watch me guzzle down on Skyla, the Celestra that picked me out of a crowd to personally drain her. She’s pretty, but she’s no Laken. And somehow I don’t think Laken would approve of me touching my lips to some hot Celestra even if it were completely platonic—even if my only thought while doing so was of Laken the entire time. Who knows? She might classify it as cheating.
Laken flushes a bright pink over the apples of her cheeks. “I’d better go.” She tries to pull away, but I reel her in and dot her lips with a kiss.
“I love you—you know that?”
She looks up at me a very long time. Her brows knit as she inspects my features as if searching for clues.
“I love you, too, Wes.” Laken wraps her arms around me and heaves a ragged breath. “Everything I do is because I love you.”
I pull back and dig in a smile.
“The Treasure ceremony is going to be special,” I assure her.
“Okay.” She winks. “It’d better be.” She blows me a kiss and takes off in the direction of the gym, her hair bounces from behind with a rhythm all its own.
Tomorrow night is going to be far more special than she could ever imagine.
Flanders catches my eye in the distance and nods.
A dull laugh rattles from my chest. Flanders wishes he could have Laken the way I do.
And after tomorrow night, Laken just might be mine forever.
After practice, once the team clears the pool, I decide to hang out and swim a few laps, solo. The cavernous room holds the thick scent of chlorine. The windows that line the back expose the deep welt of evening.
Laken runs through my mind, the thought of her accepting the proposal I’m going to offer tomorrow night incites a rush of adrenaline through me. I can picture the two of us together in the Tenebrous Woods or, as the less informed like to call it, the tunnels. If I knew she wouldn’t judge me—hate me, if I knew she wouldn’t be appalled by what goes on down there and why—I’d take her today. We would drink our fill and become the beings we were always meant to be. In my mind’s eye the fantasy takes a U-Turn and I imagine the two of us locked in a heated kiss, Laken stripping to nothing right there in those gnarled woods.
The steady beat of footsteps snap me back to reality. I glance up and catch Demetri Edinger breezing in like he owns the place—like he owns me.
Supervising spirit. More like a rotten demon. My own personal bitch.
He’s the part I’m not looking forward to—the part where I reintroduce Laken to the bastard who shuttles me around the nethersphere—the demonic leash to which I’m bound and gagged because my mother gifted him to me a few years back on my birthday. Although, I may not have to let Laken know about him—in fact I’d rather not.
I dive under and swim in his direction. No use in putting off the inevitable.
Edinger crouches low as I pop up by the edge and he clasps onto me by the hair, submerging me under just as I take a breath.
I try to free myself from his murderous charge, but he’s holding me steady just below the waterline.
Shit!
I expel a breath as a cough begs to bubble from my throat. My nose burns with fire as I inhale water like oxygen.
F*cking bastard. I latch onto his arm and yank him in. He cycles over me, and I buoy to the surface, gasping and coughing.
Edinger floats to the top with his wool coat rising up around him like a pair of giant wings.
“You f*cking a*shole.” I charge at him, securing him by the collar and thrashing him against the edge of the pool. His head gives a satisfying thump, so I arrange for it to happen again.
“Excited are we?” His eyes glow an unnatural shade of yellow. He holds his hand out, and I suction over to him like a magnet without even trying. He raises his palm as if casting a spell, and my body lifts right out of the water. I’m pulled upward above the swimming pool a good twenty feet, and my stomach bottoms out because I know what’s coming.
Gravity takes over, and I set in on the world’s crappiest belly flop. The water slaps against my chest like fire, and I hit clear to the bottom of the pool before rising to the surface.
I glance around for the bastard who sponsored this bellyache. He’s still in the water with a shit-eating grin cemented to his face.
I dive in his direction, stealth like a seal. From underwater, his body looks unnaturally elongated as if his feet were touching the floor while his head stays safely above water. This doesn’t surprise me. A Fem can do whatever the hell it wants, and God knows Demetri Edinger has done exactly that, time and time again.
“What’s the matter, Wesley?” He taunts as I surface beside him. His dark eyes gleam a wicked smile all their own. It’s nice to know he’s enjoying the shit out of himself. “Feeling a little battered and blue? From what I can see, this has less to do with your physical state and more to do with a matter of the heart.”
“What the hell do you want?” I spit just shy of his face.
“Lets cut to the chase. What is it that you want?”
“Laken,” I pant. “I always want Laken, that’s why you brought her to Ephemeral, isn’t it? Gifting her to me with a bow? You got her kicked out of Rycroft didn’t you?”
“Indeed, I’m the sole reason she was kicked out from somewhere.” He buries a smile into the side of his cheek.
“I’m bringing her tomorrow night.” I wipe the water from my eyes. “I’m going to ask her to bond with me.”
“A lifetime commitment at such a young age? Don’t be foolish. You haven’t had the chance to consider your options. So many pretty girls to choose from. Skyla, for instance, is a real catch. Rumor has it you’re just her type.” He lowers his chin as if he’s baiting me. “If I had to guess, I’d say you were made for one another.”
I tick my head back. “She’d snatch my balls off if I tried to put a move on her. Besides, I’ve only got one girl in mind and that’s Laken.”
“I see,” he muses. “And does she only have eyes for you?”
He’s mocking me. He knows something, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to ask what.
“She loves me. I’m sure of it.”
He shakes his head, slow and sober. “She may have loved you, she may have had a pure love for you once in different place, but circumstances have changed. People change. You’ll never win her back.”
My blood courses through my veins, heavy and toxic as concrete. It takes everything in me not to strangle him.
“I’m bringing her to the woods,” I assert. He can shove it up his ass if he doesn’t like it.
“You’re a fool. There’s another girl for you, Wesley—it’s not Laken. I promise you this. Things will not end well if you refuse to heed my warning.” His eyes squint out a false smile. He’s reveling in my misery—tossing Flanders in my face so subtly he thinks I haven’t noticed.
I lunge at him and grab onto his ears with both hands. I thrash his head over the edge of the pool with the zeal of a cage fighter. Blood trickles down his temple as a smooth line of crimson escapes his nose. Demetri rumbles out a dull laugh before disintegrating right between my fingers.
He never dies.
He always wins.
Worst of all, he’s always right.
I dip down under the water.
He won’t be right this time. Laken and I will be together in the end even if I have to deal with Flanders myself.
As if the day weren’t running on crap fumes already, I see Jones’s ugly mug staring back at me from my phone.
Shit. The last person I want to speak to is Laken’s overprotective uncle.
I pick up as I head into Henderson. All I really want is to get in the shower and hit the sheets—forget about the nightmare that happened earlier at the pool.
“Yo,” I say, less than enthused to be chatting it up with Jones. Way to end this mindf*ck of a day. Maybe I should call Laken after and see if she wants to hang out. She can kiss all of my emotional boo-boos and make me feel better. Just being with Laken—thinking of Laken, makes me feel better.
“Rumor has it the Spectators are joining forces.” He quips into my ear while over annunciating his P’s and C’s. “Rival clans are banding together. We could have a real problem if you don’t act. Do you have your boy on it?”
“Not yet.” I don’t fill him in on the fact I’m not too fond of my boy at the moment—that he might be trying to steal my girl. “I might take this one up on my own.”
“You don’t say?” He chuckles into the phone.
I shake my head as I hit the door to my room.
“Well, it was nice knowing you, kid.” He breathes heavily into the receiver. “Look, what do I have to do to knock some sense into you?”
I flick the lights on to find a very naked, and amply endowed, Kresley Fisher on my bed with a red velvet bow tied snug around her waist.
“Shit,” I hiss into the phone. “Look, I gotta run. I’ve got a girl in my bed I’ve got to deal with.”
“Laken?”
“No.”
“Good. Keep it that way.” The line goes dead as I toss my phone on my desk.
“Aren’t you going to shut the door?” She purrs, stretching out her long, tanned legs. Kresley pushes her hips from side to side, slipping her thighs open just enough to let me see the promise land.
“No need. You’re leaving.” I pull off my coat and shoes, plucking a fresh pair of boxers from my dresser before turning on the shower. “I said, leave.” It charges from me a little harsher than intended. A few guys poke their heads into the room and break out into a fit of laughter before heading down the hall.
“You bastard.” Kres hustles her sweater back on. She jumps into her jeans with that stupid bow still hanging from her belly like some unwanted Christmas present. “What’s got your balls all twisted up in knots? Did you find out Laken did the walk of shame last night? And, let me guess—you weren’t the one unlucky enough to degrade her body all night long.” She gets in my face with her dark mane, wild and knotted up as if she were waiting for hours. “I bet it hurt like hell to have your heart ripped out while it was still beating. I should know—you did it to me.” She hawks a fresh one into my eye before bolting out of the room.
Shit.
I pull my shirt up and wipe the spit off my face. It’s not the first time she’s hurled a live one at me. The way she spits on a regular basis, you’d think she were part camel—part devil is more like it. I know better than to incite the witch that lives inside her, but she caught me on the wrong night.
What the hell was she babbling about—walk of shame? I snag my phone and send Laken a text.
Hey beautiful. I need you.
All night long I wait for Laken to respond, but my phone lays silent.