chapter 4
In the Belly of the Fire
Laken
On Wednesday, the shadowed evergreens stretch like skyscrapers at this late hour under a cobalt sky. It’s a magical night—a night for dreamers, for lovers—not for quasi-Satanic rituals like the one I’m about to partake in. It goes against the entire principle of what this pristine beauty was designed for. Typical Counts behaving like morons.
It’s just minutes before the bizarre ritual, that Flynn compared to a Girl Scout meeting, and I pace nervously outside of Austen House.
“You have to hurry, or we’ll be late,” Jen hisses while trying to herd me toward the demonic thicket.
“No one said anything about those haunted woods,” I say, snatching my wrist from my apparently deranged sister.
Jen’s blonde hair whips around like a white flame as she tries to secure her grasp over me.
“You’re going to be late. And, trust me, they hate it when you’re late to these kinds of things.”
“Have you done this?” My body seizes in the cold night air. “I mean, are you a member?” If sweet, innocent Jen managed to pass initiation, I’d feel a hell of a lot better.
“No, I chickened out.” She sinks a frown before successfully snatching me by the wrist. “But that was because I believed the only thing I needed was Blaine. I was too afraid if I went through with it, he might see me as a strong, independent woman and leave me.”
“God, Jen, you make no sense whatsoever.” Everything is off kilter with her. The entire world revolves on a separate revolution in her head. “Just what the hell is wrong with being strong and independent?”
“Nothing.” Flames light up in her eyes, and I’m thrown for a moment only to realize the house lights were just turned on from behind.
The hint of a thumbnail moon lingers up above like the barely-there smile of the Cheshire cat. The woods pulsate in the distance like a heartbeat, and the wind calls my name in whispers like a lover who’s already damned.
A chill runs through me. The arctic breeze whips around my bare ankles and stiffens me from moving along with her.
I should have known better than to let Jen dress me for the evening. This ridiculous silver gown with the goddess sleeves—paired with heels dipped in multicolored glitter is better suited for Halloween. I didn’t dress this way when I was four, I don’t know how I let her talk me into dressing like this now. Nothing Jen suggests ever turns out to be a good idea.
“Look, I know for a fact Fallon and Carter will be there,” she says, easing me onto the cobblestoned path. “Kresley and Grayson, too!” She shouts their names as if they were some kind of a grand social prize that I should automatically flock to. Little does she know those silicon sisters are hardly a selling point.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath. “Let’s go,” I say, following her down the dark winding road. The forest approaches, large and looming. Its branches extend like knives, the dark trunks press against the purple night like corrugated cutouts.
We crest the hill, and to my surprise, we head away from the woods. Oddly, this does little to quell my nerves.
“Where are we going?” A whole new panic sets in as we approach a series of boulders washed a pale blue from the moonlight.
The granite gleams as the boulders warble in and out of existence like water. An unnatural shimmer glosses the air as Jen pulls me through the stones, and we emerge through a tunnel where a bright orange fire with long baroque tongues extends to greet us.
“Don’t be afraid.” Her voice resonates like the hum of a motor.
A series of walls appear as an expansive space takes shape around us. The fire bleeds out in an enormous circle as if we were in the eye of some demonic hurricane.
“Shit,” I say it low. Jen must have got her wires crossed, and morphed us into middle earth. A blue glow emanates from the right, and Jen pulls me along until we hit a rectangular walkway. From the other side, a blazing fire stretches high and wide as the eye can see.
The heat prickles over my body. The flames are far too close. They make this dress feel like one too many layers of clothing, and my face starts to singe.
“We need to get out of here,” I shout over the dull roar of the flames.
“I’m getting out of here,” she says, shoving me toward the wall of fire. “You’re staying. This is where Wesley said to bring you.”
I just stare at her stupefied for a moment.
“I don’t care what Wes says, I’m not going in there.” I point to the room ablaze like an inferno. “In the event your blonde brain hasn’t picked up on the smoke signals, the room is on fire.”
“Don’t be silly, Laken.” She gives me a hard shove through the door. “Every good girlfriend does what her boyfriend wants.”
“Your ex-boyfriend wishes!” I scream, as a stone rolls over the entrance and seals me into the room of doom.
The flames move and dance in a circle, forming a large ring of fire with its inferno-like walls as high as the eye can see.
“Laken.” My name sings from behind, and I turn to find an entire slew of familiar faces staring back at me. Fallon and Carter with their warm smiles. Kresley and Grayson with their stone-cold stares—standing beside them are a few other girls I remember from the slice and slaughter.
I speed over to Carter, and she hands me a long velvet robe reserved for unholy midnight gatherings such as this.
“He’ll be here soon.” The words escape her lips sweetly enough, but I’m betting something wicked this way comes.
“Who’s that, Satan?” I ask, slipping the robe over my dress. Oddly, I suddenly feel cool and comfortable, not at all like I’m about to be served up grilled and crispy.
“No, you goof,” she laughs while adjusting my hood. “Wesley. He’s the guest of honor on your behalf. He’ll be officiating the ceremony tonight.”
Wesley. He mentioned he would be here early to help set up.
I chew the inside of my cheek, a nervous habit I’ve taken to doing ten times a day since I’ve arrived, and now I’ve permanently deformed the inside of my mouth.
The girls around me break out in a choir of “Hallelujah.” I’m shocked I can actually recognize the hymn for once, so I decide to sing along to make it look as if I actually want to be here.
A dark-hooded figure emerges from the fire. I recognize those sea green eyes, those dimples pressed in without a smile. Dear God. It’s Wes. He just walked through a wall of flames like a god, and I suddenly have the urge to bow before him.
As if everyone in the room shares my longing, every knee curtsies to him as he passes through our circle and settles in our midst.
Wes doesn’t take his eyes off mine as he proceeds in my direction, and it’s only now I notice he’s cradling a gilded bowl in his hands. There’s something erotic about the way he keeps his eyes over mine. The way he demands for me to do the same. A prickling feeling comes over my skin, and I have the intense desire to rake off his clothes and have my way with him.
A strange series of thoughts riffle through my mind—Wes and me with our limbs locked over one another, rolling around at the lake, the two of us on his bed in a compromising position, his mouth fused to mine while experiencing one lush hormonal exchange. It’s electrifying, intoxicating.
Wes stops just shy of me, the bowl still extended from his person.
“Kresley.” He pulls his lips in a line, disappointed he needed to call out her name at all. But his eyes remain over me. His focus is completely mine from beginning to end. “As the chapter leader, I ask you to conduct the initiate’s birthright.”
Kresley steps forward. Her wicked brand of beauty sparks a rise of adrenaline in me. I’ve never seen her look so sharp, so well hewn from the pages of a magazine. I’m sure any casting couch in Hollywood would be thrilled to have her.
I glance past her at Grayson then the girls from school who look vaguely familiar. They all look exquisite here—far more so than the pall reality casts upon them. No, there’s definitely something in the atmosphere down here that gives the ripe delusion of ultimate perfection. It’s covering our flaws, sealing us with an unnatural allure, but it’s all a lie. Just like whatever bullshit is about to fly from Kresley’s lips.
“Sister Laken,” she says it bored, averting her eyes like a seventh grader. “It behooves me to ask if you’re here upon your own will and without the coaxing and coercion of others?”
“Yes.” I nod. “I want to be here.” I give a private smile to Wes. “I want nothing more than to be one of you.”
Kresley makes a face like she’s going to be sick. “Do you solemnly swear to never breathe a word of what you are privy to outside of the circle of Treasures? Should you break the words of your covenant, you will be cast out into darkness, forever lost to the world and must suffer the fate of the enemy. Do you comprehend the consequences and accept the punishment should you be found wanting?”
“I do.” I so am going to rat this whole psychotic meet and greet out to Coop as soon as I’m given a get-out-of-hell free card. Only something tells me I’m not getting out of here without paying a very steep price. I get the feeling my soul is the exact currency required if I ever hope to exit.
“Welcome, Sister Laken,” she says, lack luster. “It is a pleasure”—she rolls her eyes—“having you as one of us. Our Ensign, brother Wesley, will proceed with the ceremony.” She sticks her finger down her throat before making her way back to Grayson’s side.
Wes takes a step in my direction, lifting the bowl midway to his chest.
There’s something murky swilling around in there, looks like soot—and holy shit. I do believe that sanguine surprise is also known as blood.
“You’re a Treasure now, Laken.” Wes presses out a wide-eyed smile. “Once you’re sealed, you’ll forever be a select possession.”
I glance down at the bowl of blood he’s cradling, fragile as a newborn. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be anybody’s possession let alone the devils’ that run this twisted body-smuggling operation.
“There’s one more thing.” Wes gazes into me with all of the tenderness he can muster. “This, Laken, is my offering. I’ve poured my own blood into this bowl. I’m sealing you for myself as well. That is, if you’ll let me—if you want to be with me, and with no one else, forever.”
Cooper blinks through my mind. I’ll be Wesley’s forever if I agree, at least according to the Counts.
Mom and Lacey hover over me like ghosts. I’ll sacrifice everything to save them, including Cooper if I have to.
“Yes, Wesley,” I saturate his name with sugar. “I’m already yours forever.” A part of that is gospel—and the rest of it is a lie of the highest order.
Wesley dips his thumb into the soupy plasma and marks my forehead in the shape of a half-moon.
“In the shape of a C for Counts,” he corrects. Wes read my mind the second his thumb made contact with me.
I give a wry smile. He doesn’t even pretend to hide it anymore.
“From this moment forward, you and I have entered into a lasting covenant as spirit mates now and forever more.” Wes leans in and imparts a kiss so chaste it makes me wonder if I understood anything he was saying at all. “You’re my spirit wife, Laken.” His eyes glow the color of the fire as he takes up my hand. “What the Countenance has bound together let no man put asunder.”
Strange. Wes said man, but I heard Cooper Flanders clear as a gunshot.
“No man, Laken.” Wes shakes his head ever so slightly. Not even that one.
Cooper
“And then what happened?” I ask, staring at Laken while I wolf down Chinese food straight from the carton. She’s sitting Indian style on my bed as I lay beneath her, admiring how good she looks perched on my mattress.
Like manna from heaven, Laken has spent the last three nights snug in my bed. We wait until Marky falls asleep before I shuttle her over. The last thing I need is to arouse suspicion. One night was pushing it—but three nights would be the Tic-Tac-Toe within the confines of marriage according to my prepubescent sister. Although, according to Laken, she’s already sealed the marriage deal with Wesley.
“And then,” she continues with her molten hot story, “we consummated our union right there in the room of fire in front of God and Kresley, herself. Grayson said my moves were weak. She says to tell you you’ve been spared of an embarrassing episode beneath the sheets.”
I give a quick nod. She had me for a minute, and my heart lurched at the thought of Wes “taking” her in such an intimate way—audience or not.
“I doubt you’d embarrass yourself beneath the sheets,” I assure her.
“Then what were you nodding your head for?” She leans in seductively.
“I was nodding my head because we wouldn’t make it beneath the sheets.” I hold the smile from forming on my lips. “You’d be lucky if we made it to the bed.” I almost phrased that last sentence in present tense as if it were imminently about to happen.
“We’re going to bed right now,” she teases, trying to lift me by the fingers. Her light erotic touch sends a fire line from my hand all the way down to my desperate man parts.
“You’re going to bed, Laken.” I toss the empty carton onto my desk and stretch out on the sleeping bag that’s been messing up my back the better half of the week. “I’ll be down here, flushing my football scholarship down the toilet.”
“Coop!” She slaps her hand over her mouth.
“I’m teasing. I swear they say a stiff surface does wonders for your back.” All of them bad, but I leave that part out. “Look, you’re his spirit wife now. The Counts take everything you’ve done seriously, and until we can figure a way out of this mess, I really want us to take it that way, too. I can ruin things for you. I’d hate myself if I did.”
“So—what? I belong to Wesley?”
I stare at her for a good while. Her golden hair, her perfect lips that I long to cover with mine.
“Yes, Laken.” My heart gives an unnatural thump. “I believe you do.”
On Friday night, as the clouds filter in low and cover the football field like stretched cotton, Wes jogs over before I have the chance to put on my helmet.
Here we go.
I pan the bleachers for no apparent reason. I know full well the only person I want to see is already cheering on the sidelines—and I’d like to think it’s for me.
“Hey, Coop.” Fog billows from his mouth as he digs his hands deep in his pockets. He’s wearing a thick wool coat that makes his shoulders look twice as broad as reality would have them, and for a second I wonder if he chose to wear it as a means of intimidation.
A quick pulse of laughter trembles through me at the thought of Wesley choosing his wardrobe with me in mind.
“What’s up?” I look out at the field. We’re playing Croft—a bunch of pussies who use their overinflated shoulder pads as a means of intimidation much like the one standing before me.
“The Spectators are up, Coop.” He takes a step in until our elbows touch. “The Counts want them gone.”
“I don’t see why. They haven’t caused trouble in a while.” Shit. Wes might lead Laken to the Celestra tunnels, but only the Tobias sisters are going to help us get our families out. And no Spectators, means no Tobias reunion—making their offer to get our families out of the tunnels null and void.
“It’s not up to me.” He ticks his head back. “Look, I don’t need you giving me grief. Launch a major assault. The Counts want each one of them gone by Christmas—do as you’re told.”
What the hell?
“Most of them have been gone for eons, and now, just like that, I’m supposed to hunt them down and kill them. And, by the way, how the heck do you expect me to do that? My bare hands?”
Wes glares right through me with a look of pure evil.
“You’re a smart guy, Coop. Always getting what you set your mind to.” The words hang like a vulture as it circles its prey. “I don’t care what you kill them with. You can use yourself as weapon and detonate in their midst. Just get the damn job done.” He stalks off, blending into the crowd.
I turn to find Laken staring right at me, her face rife with curiosity.
The opposing team floods the field.
Coach motions me over. Not being one to break with tradition, I run past the cheerleaders, and we exchange high-fives until I get to Laken and linger for a moment.
Counts want the Spectators dead—every single one.
She shakes her head in distress. Crap. The last thing I wanted was to worry Laken.
I continue down the line before jogging out to meet with the team.
Just touching her for that brief moment enlivened me in ways that only last summer I would have denied existed. “True love” was just some hippy-dippy concept that came from the land of unicorns and rainbows.
A slow spreading grin takes over as I crush my helmet over my head.
I wonder if she felt that spark? If she feels anything at all for me? Who knows? Tonight just might shape up to be the luckiest night of my life.
“Flanders.” Flynn barks while shoving his hand into my shoulder. We step outside the huddle for a moment. “Found an entire tribe of the f*ckers setting up camp by Olsen Creek. Mostly men, but some jacked up women—a few girls.” He says it with the hint of a greasy smile, and this unnerves me.
Flynn Masterson should be required to stay ten feet from all girls on the planet, living or dead.
“The Counts want them all gone—they just gave the order.”
“All?” His brows pitch. “With what, your bad breath?”
“I thought maybe you could use your killer charm. Hit on them and they’ll voluntarily off themselves.”
“Shit. We need to act, and we need to act now. You need to stall.”
“If I don’t flush them out before Christmas, the Counts will move on. They’ll assign the job to someone else.” And, in a way, I wish they would.
Flynn sighs, spraying a white film through his nostrils.
“Dude.” He shakes his head. “You must have pissed them off pretty good. Sounds like they’re sending you off on a suicide mission.”
I cast a quick glance into the bleachers and spot Wes. The harsh stadium lights bleach him out a dull grey like stainless steel.
“I don’t know about a suicide mission,” I say. “Sounds more like murder.”
Eradicate the Spectators—off me in the process. I can think of one person that would benefit.
I watch as Laken smiles and waves in the distance, swaying her hips for the crowd.
Wes has found a way to eliminate more than the Spectators from this planet. He’s engineered the perfect plan to make sure I’m one of the casualties.
Well played Wes, but the game isn’t over yet.
Not by a long shot.
Once the bodies and debris clear off the field, Melville House becomes the central location for debauchery. Most of the resident jocks are holed up at Melville, so it only makes sense. Plus, it’s the most distal male dorm on campus, and hardly any of the night patrol gives a shit what goes on down here. I guess they figure enough cash runs through this place, the kids are entitled to a little fun. Most of the house parents are former residents, so they tend to turn a blind eye once the beer starts to flow, and blunts brighten the periphery like a string of Christmas lights. Rumor has it the house parents have been known to stock a liquor cabinet or two.
Bodies file into Melville and stream throughout the overgrown room like swarms of locusts. I wish it were empty. That it was only Laken and me. I wonder if that will ever happen, if Laken and I will ever happen. If Wes gets his memory restored, I’m pretty sure she’ll renew her relationship with him. I’ll have to savor those stolen moments of the two of us in my bedroom. She’s been staying with me every night this week. Jen seems clueless, and Hattie doesn’t care, but something tells me if Wes found out, he’d have my ass on a pole.
“So I got my dress.” Grayson appears from nowhere. Her blonde hair holds the slight scent of bleach as she moves in close, tucking her hip into mine. “It’s actually teal, so forget all about the turquoise. We’ll need to get you a tie to match. Don’t f*ck this up, kay? I’ve got a professional photographer who might use us in a print ad if I play my cards right.”
I bet “playing her cards right” includes entertaining him in a horizontal position later in the evening. Although she slept with Flynn while I was with her for less than a print ad. Or at least I thought I was with her. Not sure what I was doing in the first place.
Her blood red lips keep yapping, but all I can think about is how I will most assuredly “f*ck things up” because I didn’t even realize there was a color difference between the two hues. And how many hours am I going to have to log down at Maria’s to pay for this brain malfunction? If I had thought things through, I could have stayed home that night. I can’t think of one good reason I’m headed to homecoming with Grayson other than trying to fool Wes, and something tells me there’s no fooling Wes.
Laken walks into Melville, and the room stills—at least for me.
Her smile fades to zero as her crystalline eyes narrow in on Grayson with her arm slithering over my chest.
Shit.
Grayson smooths her arm over my shoulders, and I try to casually disembark from her unwanted embrace. She drones on about hotel arrangements and how many bottles of champagne we’ll need to entertain the guests at our after party.
“Also”—she blows the word into my ear—“I’ll be wearing something pink and lacey, that happens to come with feathers, just for you.” She takes a bite of my earlobe, and I flinch.
“Where you going?” She zooms in and runs her hand up my thigh, securing a grip over my crotch with the dexterity of a garden snake.
“Okay.” I let out a nervous laugh as I push her away. “Lavender belt. Got it.”
Grayson gasps. “Teal tie!” The veins on her neck protrude like cords. Her face contorts with shock like I just kicked her in the gut.
Laken pops up next to her and gives a private smile at Grayson’s newfound distress.
“Have either of you seen Flynn?” She says it friendly enough—benign for that matter, but Grayson channels some uncalled for aggression in her direction.
“I guess you need someone to slut around with now that Cooper’s taken.” Grayson wraps a loose curl around her finger. “Anyway, Coop”—she touches her hand to my cheek, and I don’t stop her—“if you’re craving a little R and R you know where to find me.” She gives a brief wink before strutting off into the crowd.
“R and R?” Laken looks simultaneously pissed and cute as hell in the process. As lame as it is, I’m flying high off the fact she might actually be jealous. Jealousy is born from something. In this case, I’m hoping it’s just a hair away from love because I think that’s exactly what I’m feeling for her.
“Rest and relaxation,” I say. It’s code for blowjob, but I’m not clueing Laken in on that tidbit. Grayson likes to help a lot of guys get some R and R. Rumor has it her entire acting career hinges on the respite benefits she provides.
Laken’s face crumbles. Her perfect lips twitch under duress for a moment before recovering.
“What a mess,” she whispers below the music.
“What’s a mess?” I can guess, but I’d rather not go there.
Laken looks up at me, her eyes filled with sorrow.
“We are, Coop.” She strains the words through hesitation. “I thought we had something. I thought maybe I was wrong about Wes and me, that if he never came back—if he was too far gone that it would be me and you.” Her eyes glitter in this dim light. “But Grayson…” she shakes her head. “She’s beautiful. You look good together, and by the way that makes me want to hurl.” She sticks her tongue out playfully, and I suddenly want to catch it with my teeth. A surge of adrenaline pushes through me at the thought of Laken wanting me on some level—but Wes is the condition. A part of me hopes he never gets his memory back.
“I guess I got caught up in the moment,” she continues. “I’m sorry if I led you on. I never meant to do that. And I would never expect you to wait around for me while I try to figure things out.” She sniffs and gives a little shrug. “I care about you, Coop. And if a little R and R with Grayson makes you happy then that’s what I want for you.” Her voice breaks with that last sentence. Laken’s chest quivers. She stands before me in her Ephemeral-issued cheer skirt, her hair still high in a ponytail with a bow on top. In a roundabout way Laken Stewart is breaking up with me. She thinks I want Grayson and those overblown lips of hers massaging me into a sexual euphoria rather than the perfection that is her.
I’d like to tell her how I feel, but I can’t. There aren’t enough words to describe these incredible feelings. So I do the only thing I can—show her. I gently grab the back of her neck and crash my lips to hers. Laken swipes her tongue over mine, and I indulge in something far more primal, much more intense and viral than I had ever hoped to achieve.
The world stops spinning. I’m having a heightened sexual experience right here, in the middle of the student body, through the portal of Laken’s mouth. My stomach clenches as she pushes in deeper, and a moan vibrates from her throat to mine.
Laken pulls back, her face red with shock. She looks past my shoulder at the door, her fingers still interlaced with mine.
Wes. Her chest heaves from the state of nirvana we just launched ourselves into.
Laken hurls her open palm in my direction and ignites a fire across my cheek.
“You bastard!” She screams it in my face with her left hand still clutching mine.
See you at the ridge at midnight, she says before taking off in Wesley’s direction.
My heart soars. That kiss personified everything we could be—everything electric.
Wesley is the enemy, and Laken knows it. She’s just using him in an effort to save our families. He’s a necessary evil for the time being just like Grayson.
I watch as he ushers her out the door with his hand firmly planted over the curve of her skirt.
She might be in Wesley’s arms for the next few hours, but she’ll be in my bed tonight.
Wesley
My heart pounds against my chest like a judge sounding a gavel. I’m f*cking finished with Flanders. He signed and sealed his death warrant tonight by ramming his tongue down my girlfriend’s throat.
“Just get me out of here.” Laken chokes the shit out of my hand like it was Cooper’s neck. And right about now, I’m betting she wishes it were. “I want to go someplace to forget about all this. Maybe Charity Lake? Or your room?”
A smile cinches up my cheek at the thought of Laken being so ready and willing.
“Yeah,” I say, leading her outside. “I’ll take you wherever you want.”
The stars spray out like an umbrella over Ephemeral. It’s cold as hell with the frost already coating the pines—the grass. A layer of mist seeps from the forest and sails over the campus like a ghost.
I glance back at Melville House pumping like a drum with its windows rattling from the noise. It’s taking all of my strength, not to go back in there and rip Flanders’ balls out from his throat.
“What happened?” I slip my arm around her waist as we continue down the road.
“I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “It’s weird because the Cooper Flanders I know doesn’t just manhandle girls. Last I heard, he was taking Grayson to homecoming.” She raises her shoulders to her ears. “I was talking to Carter, and the next thing I knew Grayson backed into me—she waved at someone and took off. Cooper was so wasted he lunged in my direction just as she left and planted one on me.”
Aiming for Grayson and missed? Doubt it. I’m damn sure Coop hit his target tonight.
“That’s probably it,” I say, brushing a kiss over her cheek. “Coop’s way too nice a guy to go around attacking girls, especially mine.” I’ll layer on the frosting, and make Coop look like a hero. When they find him lying in a ditch, I’ll be the last person Laken will suspect. Not that I’d kill the bastard—injure maybe.
If that less than stellar performance he gave on the field tonight is any indication, the varsity team won’t be missing him too much, either.
Laken looks up me with her eyes filled with fear.
“Hey”—I press a kiss over her temple—“let’s get to Henderson before we freeze to death.” I rub her arm. “I’ll get you something warm to drink.” And if all goes well, we’ll be drinking each other down in less than an hour.
I pull her in close and examine her under the pale light of the moon.
“I have something special to show you in my room,” I whisper.
She licks her lips and gurgles out a sexier-than-hell laugh.
“You’re a dirty boy, Wes. You know that?”
“That’s not what I was going to show you.” I hold back a smile. “But if you insist, I might give into your demands.” My lips curve at the thought. “Anyway, I really hope you’ll love it.”
“I love everything about you, Wesley Parker.” She dots my lips with a kiss.
I wrap my arm back around her waist as we head in the direction of Henderson Hall.
She loves everything about me.
Too bad she can’t remember my name.
Laken nuzzles against me, blowing kisses in my ear all the way up the steps to Henderson. Her hair holds the scent of vanilla and flowers, a country meadow blinks through my mind like some long forgotten dream that I struggle to remember.
It’s warm inside, toasty and well heated from the fire. The downstairs lights are dimmed just enough to give it a romantic feel—a code that lets me know one of my dorm brothers is about to get laid.
“I’m freezing.” Laken takes off toward the fireplace before I can stop her.
A tangle of bodies writhe over one another, then leap apart as Laken lets out a high-pitched scream.
Fletch and some chick with a rack the size of grapefruits scramble to cover themselves. It’s only when she looks up do I see it’s Carter.
“Shit, Laken.” Fletch tosses his shirt at her as he holds a pillow over his manhood. I know what I’ll be tossing in the fire later. “Can you scream any louder? I think I still have some hearing in my right ear.”
“Oh stop, Fletch.” Carter buttons up her blouse. “She probably saw that log between your legs, and nobody wants to see their brother’s junk. Isn’t that right?”
“Excuse me.” Laken groans before bolting for the kitchen. “I’ll be washing my eyes out with soap.”
Soap. Maybe as a courtesy she could gargle with it, too. Just knowing Flanders defiled her makes me want to vomit. Speaking of Flanders, didn’t she say she was with Carter before he dove into her mouth?
“How long have you two been here?” I ask, curious as hell as to when their private party began.
“Since the game ended in tragedy.” Carter slides into Fletch and pulls a blanket over the two of them.
“I’m adding the blanket to the burn list,” I say under my breath.
Fletch beams me in the face with the pillow he just employed as a penis protector.
I toss it back in the event he discovers a creative need for it before heading off to find Laken.
Fletch has more than his fair share of balls to sleep with Carter, front and center, in the common room—either that or he’s dumb as a post. If he gets caught, they could both get tossed out on their bare-naked asses.
The clanging of pots and pans fills my ears as I take in the scene from the kitchen.
Flynn has his hands up like there’s a hostage situation underway while Laken turns two long-handled pots into a pair of annoying gongs.
“What the heck?” I shout, speeding over. It’s only then I notice Hattie cowering in the corner, looking scared as all hell with her arms up over her head. “Whoa!” I disarm Laken before she commits a culinary-based felony. “What’s going on?”
Flynn jumps up, pumped with adrenaline. “I was making out with this chick, and your psycho girlfriend storms in and starts banging pots and pans in our ears like its f*cking New Year’s Eve. You’d better call Flanders and tell him to set up a permanent bed at the palace for the mentally unstable.”
Coop’s grandfather started up the psych hospital, and ironically I’d like nothing more than for his grandson to take up residency there.
Laken snatches a dirty steak knife from the counter before I can defend her mental stability and darts over to Hattie like she’s about to decapitate her.
“Laken!” I dive over the island and knock her down in a play that could rival any move made on that field tonight. She struggles free, sending the blade sliding up my cheek.
“Shit!” She drops the knife and covers her mouth in horror. “Oh my God, Wes, I’m so sorry.”
“We’re out of here,” Flynn says, moving Hattie toward the door. “Lay off the booze, girl.” He shouts to Laken. “You’re one mean drunk.”
“Wait, Flynn, she’s…” Laken folds into me helpless as they walk out of sight. “She’s not human.”
I touch my cheek and examine the pink stain on my fingers.
“You’re cut.” Her voice quivers as she lays her hand over mine.
“It’s just a graze. I’ll do more damage with a razor in the morning.” I get up and help her to her feet. “What did you mean she’s not human?” God knows we have enough of that floating around in our world for me to consider it an option.
“She’s”—Laken shakes her head as if searching for answers—“a real bitch. I saw her hanging all over some guy back at Henderson. Her tongue was in his ear, and it was just sick. I don’t like her messing with Flynn like that. He seems like a nice guy.” She pinches her shoulders to hers ears as if she were stressed beyond belief.
“What?” I pull her in and melt a kiss over her lips. “Trust me. Nobody wants to be taken advantage of more than Flynn. He’s anti-monogamy—roaming hands don’t offend him. Now—pots and pans might offend him if they’re used in an effort to stop him from hitting a homerun. I think you should let Flynn worry about Flynn. But that’s what I like about you best.” I run my hand up her cheer sweater and adhere to her heated skin. “You care about how other people feel.”
“You’re right, Wes.” She gives a limp smile. “I absolutely hate the thought of someone being taken advantage of. It kills me to know there are people being used—abused and tortured in this world, especially when I can’t do a damn thing about it.” She buries a hard look into me as if she were wielding that knife all over again.
I clear my throat.
Just hearing those words makes me think of those kids down in the Celestra tunnels. I’ve seen their long faces, their hollow eyes that let you know they miss living—that they’ve already died on the inside.
Laken freezes like she’s having a seizure—probably envisioning Flynn getting his ass kicked by the new chick. Little does she know he’d enjoy it—pay for it if he could.
“Hey”—I change the subject—“tonight you mentioned something about hanging out with Carter at the party.”
Her mouth opens as she glances past my shoulder.
“Did I say Carter?” Her lids rise unnaturally. “I meant Fallon.”
“Fallon.” I give a quick nod. “That’s probably what you said. I was just too pissed at Coop to notice.” I lead her toward the stairwell on the way to my bedroom.
Why do I get the feeling I’ve just been lied to?
I wish I could care right now whether or not Laken was being honest with me, but I’m so tired of waiting for her to come around. That damn fall from the tree house really messed her up, and now my dick and I are left to our own devices as far as alleviating duties are concerned. Although I’d better wait until her memory is fully restored because, with my luck, she’ll wake up one day and realize she’s been sleeping with someone she considers a brother. She’ll probably never speak to me again. And I can count three times tonight her memory has cut out like a bad engine.
Laken and I step into my room, and I wedge the door with a chair in the event Fletch decides to crash our private party. The last time he caught me with his little sister, he turned me into a bruise from the waist down.
“So what are we going to do?” She hops on my bed and bites down a seductive smile. Her ponytail glides from her shoulder like a golden waterfall. “You said you wanted to show me something.” Her gaze falls to my jeans then rides back up again.
“You’re a naughty girl, you know that, Laken?” I pull off my jacket and slip in next to her.
“Is that something you should say about the girl you’re going to spend the rest of your life with?” It comes from her lips soft, not one ounce of sarcasm to back it as an off-handed remark.
“Most definitely not.” I pull her fingers to my lips and kiss them one by one. Spending the rest of my life with Laken would be an honor I’d die to achieve.
“On second thought,” she purrs, “I can be the naughty one in this relationship—in fact, I volunteer.” A wicked gleam flickers in her eyes and sends my body perking to attention in all the right places.
“Mmm, maybe not tonight.” I adjust the hard-on in my jeans. “Laken.” I bury my face in her neck a moment. “You seem willing.” I shake my head. “But I’m not one hundred percent sure you’re fully back.”
“I’m fine. I’m remembering everything.” Her eyes round out with desperation as if she’s overeager to please me.
“I can’t do it.” I swallow hard. Everything in me is screaming we should. “I can’t take advantage of you. I won’t let it happen—but I did want to show you something.” I reach back on my nightstand and pull out a notebook.
“What’s this?” Laken twists into me to get a better look.
“I’m thinking about getting a tattoo.” I hold back a smile as she settles herself next to me. Her creamy thigh glides over my jeans, and I swallow down a groan.
“A tattoo?” A trembling laugh escapes her. “You’re hardly the type. Let me guess, you want Asterion’s ugly mug emblazoned on your back. You’re that dedicated to this school, I can tell.” She gives a vixen-like grin.
“Wrong. I’m that dedicated to you.” I tap her nose with my finger.
“Me? Oh, please don’t tell me you’re going to ink my face across your body. I swear I’ll never speak to you again. Besides, that’s going to be creepy when we’re finally together. The last thing I want to do is make out with myself while kissing your chest.”
“You’d kiss my chest?” I stroke a finger along her jawline.
“Yes.” She scratches at my stomach. “I will. I plan on living a long, happy life with you, Wes.” She looks down at the comforter, saddened by her words as if she didn’t mean them at all.
I glide my hand around the back of her neck and listen in a moment, hoping to get the details on why she just went from ecstatic to cliffside plunge in under five seconds.
I hear the words Cider Plains, and old Wes thumping through her mind, and I know exactly where she’s at. She’s right back in Kansas, with a version of me she insists existed.
“Laken.” I expel her name with a sigh.
“Sounds like I’ve disappointed you.” She presses her lips together. “What’s in the book?”
“Hey—” I pick up her chin with my finger. “You could never disappoint me. You do nothing but please me, I swear.” Mostly on a nightly basis in my dreams but that’s another story. “This is what I wanted to show you.” I open the lined journal to a page with a sketch of her name written out in elaborate scrollwork.
“Wesley,” she whispers, mesmerized by seeing her name laid out in such a grand manner. “Is that what you’re thinking for the tattoo?” She searches me with those unknowably pale eyes as if she were frightened for me.
“Yes. I want to. I am. There’s not a thing you can do to stop me,” I tease. “I’m having it done during Christmas break. I found this guy. He’s supposed to be the best. You can come with me and hold my hand if you want. In fact, I’m begging you to. I’m sort of a wimp when it comes to pain.” I hike my cheek up one side. “True story.”
“Wes. Of course I’ll come with you. I’m totally flattered you’d do something like this, but really you don’t have to. I’m right here, and you’ll always have me.” Her brows knit, and this time I could swear she’s about to cry.
“Whoa, what’s going on?” I toss the notebook to the ground and scoop her into my arms.
Her eyes well up with tears, and she gives a hard sniffle into my neck.
“Nothing,” she whispers, as she starts to cry. “It’s just, I want things to be like this forever.” She buries her face in my chest with her warm tears dampening my shirt.
I glide my hands up the back of her sweater and blow out a breath. Shit. I wish to God I knew how to fix this. Why would there be tears if we already have everything we want—namely each other?
God, I miss you, Wes, and I don’t give a damn if you hear me.
Hear me?
“I miss this.” She looks up at me. “I miss touching you.”
My stomach lurches.
For a second I thought she knew I could read her mind, and the idea set off the panic button. If Laken knew, she’d hate me for the sheer dishonesty. If we’re supposedly this close—practically ordained as husband and wife, then she should share all my secrets.
“I’m right here Laken. What do you miss?” I press my lips against hers.
“I’m tired of you waiting for me to get my memory back.” She blinks away the tears, her eyes as red as bloodstains. “I think maybe…” Her hand slides down my chest and crests over the growing bulge in my jeans. “Maybe if we were together—if we shared everything, then I could truly come back to you.”
I take a deep breath and consider this. I’m ready to cave. I’m ready to give Laken whatever the hell it takes to get her mind back in shape—the memory of who she was, her family—I want to give it all back to her. I’m just not sure the portal to all that knowledge is locked in my pants.
“You really think that’s going to make a difference?” I ask, staring off into the ceiling as if the answers were scrawled out up there, and all I had to do was connect the dots.
Laken slips her hand into the lip of my jeans, her fingers graze me in places I’ve dreamed of, wished for.
“I’m positive, Wes. It’s like there’s this secret between us, and it’s creating a hurdle for me to feel as close to you as I’d like. It must be that—the two of us finally being together. What else could it possibly be? I mean you don’t have any secrets from me, do you?” She twirls the hairs just below my belly in a dizzying circle, and I close my eyes a moment.
“Laken, you’re going to start something I know we’re not ready to finish.”
Secrets. A dry laugh pulses through me. Only a sweet girl like Laken would think of sex as a secret.
On some level she’s sensing that something’s wrong. She’s a Count, and according to her genetics, a damn strong one. She’s picking up on the fact I’ve got all this Celestra juice flooding my veins, and she doesn’t know what to classify it as. God, what if she senses Skyla on me and thinks I’ve been cheating?
“You know I would never cheat on you.” It pops from my lips out of the blue.
Shit—exactly what every guilty boyfriend says.
“What I mean is,” I pause in the event I feel the need to bury myself further, “I would never even think of another girl or want one. You’re it for me, Laken. Hand to God, you’re all I’ll ever need. I was serious as death when I took that oath the other night, and I’m equally as serious about getting your name indelibly marked over my skin. I want to have a piece of you near me at all times. You’re all I ever think about from eyelids open until I fall asleep, and then I’m lucky enough to have you greet me in my dreams.”
Her smile expands, and she warms the room with it.
“You dream of me?” There’s a twinkle in her eyes as if she’s picking up on the unchaste nature.
“Damn straight,” I say, lowering my lips to hers. “And someday, each one of those deranged fantasies is going to come to life.”
She tips her head back and belts out a laugh.
“Then take me now, and make me yours.” Her eyes fills with sorrow again as if the very thought had the power to scrub the joy from her soul.
I dig my fingers into her hair and comb through it, soft as silk.
“You said you wanted our first time to be special, that you wanted to wake up next to me in the morning and do it all over again.” I’m starting to resent the fact I have a strong memory. A little forgetfulness would have had the power to cure this gnawing ache in my gut, not to mention give some much needed attention to the parts of my anatomy that crave it most.
“I was lying.” She flat lines.
“Very funny,” I say, pulling her in until our stomachs touch. “Besides, you’re right. I do have a secret.” An entire boulder feels as if it’s lifted from my chest. “I want to share it with you more than anything. It’s a big one, and I need to know that you won’t say anything.”
“I won’t.” She gets up on her elbow, eager to hear whatever I’m about to tell her.
“It’s not something I can tell you. I’d rather show you. It’s something I do and I’m afraid if I try to explain it with words it’s going to sound a whole lot worse than it actually is.” I take a breath and hold it because I know damn well the odds of it looking as bad as it sounds are close to one hundred. But maybe if she comes to understand the need for it—if she understands why we have to oust Celestra, deplete them of their physical strength, maybe then she’ll see it’s for the greater cause. In reality, all we’re doing is reducing them to human. Nothing wrong with that, since ninety percent of the population functions just fine that way.
“I’m going to love you no matter what it is you’re doing,” she whispers, her eyes still dewy from tears. “I’m sure it’s not bad because you’re not a bad person. And if it sounds bad, then I’d rather see it. Whatever this is, I think it’s important we hurdle it together. We can make it through anything, Wes. I know we can.”
I wrap my arms around her and seal my lips over hers.
Laken thinks we can conquer just about anything together.
I hope to God she’s right.
I hope to God that Celestra doesn’t ruin anything between Laken and me just like they’ve managed to screw up the entire universe.
And if they do, all the more reason to wipe the bastards off the face of the earth.
But Laken and I will persevere, and so will the Counts.