Richard gets up, and I pull him into a quick embrace.
“Slowly.” Ezrina grinds out the word like fingernails on a chalkboard.
Footsteps thunder from behind. “Looks like I’m missing the party.”
There he is, darkening the doorway—Wesley.
Laken takes a breath, and her arms slide across Kara like a seatbelt.
She’s got the right idea.
I have a feeling we’re all in for one fucking hell of a ride.
Wesley
I’ll be honest, it’s not what I expected—Laken and Coop huddle around a little girl and some guy while Ezrina glues her crazy-eyed stare in my direction. I thought I’d find them at Coop’s house—tucked in his bed, already declaring their love for one another with their bodies, but this was a turn for the unexpected.
“What’s going on?” I frown into Laken. I wish I could say that I understood why she pulled the cord, but my ego is far too bruised to accept any reasonable answer. She would have had her family back and an eternity by my side. How in the world did she come to the conclusion that was anything but a winning combo? It would have been. It still can be.
The boy steps forward. He’s about our age, maybe a little younger. I squint at him trying to make out his face, but I don’t remember seeing him around campus.
“We were dead, and now we’re alive.” He scowls into me. “Ezrina revived us with the antidote, and soon all of Celestra will gain their numbers, and their lives, back.”
“What’s he babbling about?” I look to Laken. I want to hear the truth from her, she owes me that much.
“They were Spectators,” she whispers, her chest still heaving from the shock of seeing me.
Holy shit.
I step into them and marvel. “You did this?” I look to Ezrina with her red hair sprayed out like a ring of fire. Her pale face pieced together like a bad quilt.
“Did,” she croaks, proud of her latest achievement.
“You know what this means?” Laken’s entire face brightens, the tracks of her tears still evident. “All of those Celestra prisoners who were forced to partake in the resurrection experiment can have their lives back.”
“What?” It comes from me stunned as shit—unexpected. “And where will they live? Work, for that matter?” You can’t just bring thousands, if not millions, of people back to life and expect a happy ending. Not to mention how pissed they’re going to be.
“The Counts can house them.” She drills it into me. “It’s the least they can do.”
I look up and meet Laken’s sharp stare. She said Count like it’s a dirty word, and every part of me knows she believes that to be true.
“Laken”— I step into her and touch my hand to her shoulder—“please, can I talk to you alone for a minute?”
Coop steps between us, sticking his chest out like some hopped up baboon. Quite frankly, I’m sick of his shit. I’m done playing nice. I don’t care if he does think he’s rescuing Laken from the big, bad Count—that Count being me.
“No, it’s okay.” Laken pushes him out of the way as she takes up my hand. “Wesley would never hurt me.” It comes from her like a threat as if she was just as easily letting me know I shouldn’t even think about it. There’s a look in her eyes that suggests she’s not above carving her initials onto my balls.
“That’s right.” I touch my hand to the soft outline of her cheek, and every part of me groans. I could have had her. I almost did.
Laken leads me out of the Count conservatory and through the long, white corridor until we hit the dismal world of the Transfer—a hell of the Counts’ own making with no sun and no stars, only the blank of night, the bad breath of death lurking in this ever-present night.
I pull her in without hesitating and hold her like that a very long time. Words beg to burst through my vocal cords, but the dam of grief has stopped up the way.
“I love you, Wesley. I do. I always will.” She lands a simple kiss to my cheek and pulls away. “But if we’re going to be together, it should be under different circumstances.”
“If?” My heart pinches in my chest because it wants to stop beating right here on the spot. “It sounds like I’ve got some competition.”
She shakes her head unconvincingly. “You still mean a lot to me, Wes.”
“What about Flanders? Does he mean a lot to you?” I don’t waver my eyes from hers—just stand there drowning in the silence that beats by like a small eternity. “I thought so.”
Her eyes fill with spontaneous tears. “I’m confused.” She snatches at my shoulder. “I promise you, once I get my family out of that hellhole, I’ll be able to think straight. Right now the Counts have it clouded with their wickedness, and I just need to know that you see how evil they are.”
Evil. And there it is.
“So now what?” I touch my fingers to her beautiful lips and ache because I’m afraid I’ll never get to kiss them again.
Laken gives a tiny smile. “I need time. I think, in all honesty”—she glances down at the ground a moment—“I just need to get my bearings.”
I don’t say anything just stare off at the listless horizon, at the dirty mansion that sits like an out-of-place piece of the puzzle and wonder how the hell we fell so far so fast.
“What happened when I left?” she whispers. Her eyes widen with wonder and perhaps a touch of embarrassment.
“I left, too.” A knot settles in my throat. “Nobody knows what happened, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to keep it quiet for at least a day, so I can get my bearings.” I don’t mean for it to come out as sarcastic as it sounded. “Look, I’m hoping to God I’m still the one for you.” I pull her in until our bellies press in tight, her dress still soaking wet from the rain. My body shakes just having her close as my fingers dig into her soft flesh. “You will always be the one for me, Laken. I promise you that. There will never be another.”
“Wes.” She rubs her cheek over mine. It feels like heaven—like something we should be doing with every inch of our bodies. “You just scared me a little, that’s all. I’m scared to death you’re choosing the Counts.” Her eyes search me, wild and frantic as if I were lost even though I’m right here in front of her.
“You’re choosing Cooper.”
“I’m not choosing anybody.” She digs her nails into my arms as if begging me to understand. “I just want my family back, safe. The Counts are monsters, Wes. And we’re not. We’re good. You and me. Wes”—she shakes her head—“you’ve imprinted yourself over the fabric of my soul. You are irreplaceable. I promise you that. You’re not one of those monsters.”
Thoughts of who I really am swirl through my head as I put my mind on lockdown.
There are bigger monsters out in the world, and she’s looking dead on at one of them.
“I get it. You hate the Counts.” It comes from me defeated. I pull back with a sad smile before leaning in to dot her lips with a kiss.
She shakes her head with the look of pity in her eyes. “And you don’t.”
And now I wonder if the gap between us can ever be filled because you could never truly hate yourself, could you?
Although, with every last bit of me, I think I do.
In the early hours of the morning, while the stars struggle to shine through the pale expanse, I head over to the downstairs chamber of the library and summon my least favorite demon—Demetri.
“Up so early?” He materializes in a haze, already dressed in a suit and tie, his oversized wool coat on over that. “I would have imagined your new bride would have kept you occupied until well past noon.”
“There was no ceremony, and you know it.” I drop into the nearest seat and slump into my newfound depression. I wish it were true—that Laken would want to do anything with me until well past noon.
“Let this be a lesson.” His wickedness cuts through the dim light. “You cannot force yourself into a relationship, Wesley. Laken was never the one for you. She was never meant to be your Essential.”
His jaw tightens, and, for the first time, his smiling eyes look as if they’re trying to burn a hole through my skull. “You must believe me. You were created for someone far greater than she.”
“I was created.” I nod into this bit of fucked-up news. “What—did you hatch me? Sprout me from a seed? I’m dying to know the logistics.” I jump up and shake him by the collar. “Just where the hell did I come from?”
“From your mother’s womb.” He pushes me away like blowing back a feather.
“Did you—” Shit.
“It’s not always necessary, there are other ways.”
Relief spreads through me like a wild fire. “I’m no longer interested in the details of my conception.” I slip back in my seat like a drunkard. “What do you want with me?”
“Now, that is the question I’ve waited a lifetime for you to ask.”
9
Two Dates are Better than One
Laken
On Thursday, Kresley herds every last unsuspecting dorm sister into the common room.
“As you know, winter formal is upon us.” She pauses to flip her muddy-brown hair over her shoulder. “It’s tradition that the women of Austen House take a group picture with their dates.” Her eyes cut in my direction, quick as slitting my throat. “Pictures are at nine o’clock sharp at the photography station, be late, and you won’t be in it.” Her lips dip in and out of a smile as if they were doing the wave. “For those of you with more than one date, we respectfully request you simply choose one of your suitors for the photo as it is in poor taste to impress your polygamous ways upon the rest of the group.” Her eyes linger over mine like a threat.
I bet she’d like for me to relinquish one of my dates, and I know exactly which one.
She drones on and on about dress code and protocol, but I effectively tune her out, easy as turning down the dial on a radio full of static.
If I don’t end up with Wes, he might go back to her.
A pang of grief rockets through me as I take her in by the fire with the orange flames lashing her already tan skin. Her long, charcoal hair looks like passion born at midnight, and her clear green eyes practically beg you to stare into them. Kresley has an undeniable beauty. And she’s already slept with Wes, something I’ve yet to do. It breaks my heart just thinking about him losing himself in lust while his body writhes over hers. I don’t know that I could handle Wes with anyone else, Cooper either for that matter. I sink deeper into my seat as I lose myself just thinking about the polygamous implications I’ve impressed upon myself. I have to choose, and I need to do it soon, or I’ll lose them both.
Before I realize it, half the room has cleared out. Kres and Grayson stand nearby glancing down at their chests, probably doing a side by side of their boob jobs.
“What’s up?” Carter slips in next to me and knocks into my shoulder “You look pretty upset.”
“I guess I am.” I try to shake the idea out of my head. “I’m just all over the place. So, are you and Fletch going to the dance together?”
“You know it.” She wraps an arm around my shoulder. “In fact, I think we’ll be going to a lot more events together in the future. I’m really feeling good about us. I think we might even be family one day.” Her gaze darts to the ceiling, and you can practically see the stars spray out over her head. The idea my brother can illicit that dreamy look in anybody’s eye is a mystery to me. “You know what I like best about your family?” She squints into me with a look of earnest amazement written over her face, and now I’m dying to hear what she finds so fascinating about my fake fam.
“Do tell.”
“The fact you guys are so tight. You don’t keep things from each other. Everyone’s so open and honest.”
My not-so-fake mother comes to mind with her insane level of sarcasm, enough to send any one of her children to therapy for life. It’s funny because even after Coop ran the blood tests and revealed her to be the real deal, I still can’t think of her as my mother in any way.
“Yeah, we’re real honest with one another.” Fletch flashes through my mind. I’ve yet to tell him the truth about what the Counts have done. Wes asked me not to tell, but I think it’s time we revisit that conversation. “I’m glad you’re into Fletch. You deserve to be happy. You both do.” Her phone goes off.
“It’s him!” She wiggles her cell in my face before jumping off the couch.
“So, Laken”—Grayson holds back the wicked grin twitching on her lips—“how are you going to handle going with two guys? I mean I guess you switch dance partners all night, but who gets the goodnight kiss?” Her eyes light up with laughter.
“Oh, Grayson”—Kres slaps her arm with a mock reprimand—“Laken’s been kissing them both all along. They don’t mind.” She spears her dark brand of hatred into me. “I’m just curious how long you think they’re going to put up with your bullshit? The quickest way to lose a guy is to bruise his ego.” Her chest pumps with a laugh. “So you go girl. You just keep being you, and Grayson and I will be right there for the fallout.”
Grayson lifts her shoulders with delight. “All’s well that ends well.”
The two of them strut off toward the front.
Crap.
I wanted to add, if it isn’t ending well, it isn’t the end. Some questionable words of wisdom I heard long ago that don’t seem to apply to my current situation.
The tragedy of it all is the fact that I totally believe Kresley when she says the quickest way to lose a guy is to bruise his ego, and what better way to bruise his ego than to date another guy?
Nothing about this is going to end well.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fish it out.
It’s a text from Marky.
About to bake cookies. Want to come over and help?
I don’t hesitate with my reply.
Be right there.
I borrow Jen’s car and drive to Heaven to be with Coop.
All’s well that ends well.
At least for tonight.
The Flanders’ house is lit up a cheery peach while pictures of tissue paper turkeys line the windows. I’ve always appreciated its homey appeal, the childlike finishing touches that Marky adds to let you know the spirit of youth is alive and well inside.
Marky opens the door as I’m still making my way down the walk. I bounce my way up the porch, and she flies at me with a tight embrace. My heart breaks a little because I could have been doing exactly this with Lacey right now if I wasn’t so torn.
“Who’s Lacey?” Marky looks up at me with her expressive eyes. Her pale skin glows with healthy pink undertones. “Is that your little sister?”
“Yes.” I untangle myself from her as we step into the house. Marky is a Celestra just like Coop, and I keep forgetting she can hear me when we touch. “I miss her.”
“Is she back in Kansas?” She looks up at me with her eyes filled with wonder.
Had I told her about Kansas?
“I’m not—um, yes, she is.”
“You don’t have to be afraid, Laken.” She dives her arms around my waist again. “I heard my dad and Coop talking all about it. They said the whole world will think you lost your mind and that the bad guys are going to lock you away at my grandfather’s nuthouse, but they have it all under control. Cooper promised me he wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.” She buries her tiny face in my chest a moment before sniffing back tears. “So don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
I take in a breath and place that steel barrier over my thoughts. Coop promised he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. My heart blooms like a hillside in springtime. It’s true. Coop is always there when I need him.
“Thank you.” I give her tiny body a quick squeeze.
“Can I ask you a question?” She tilts up at me, and suddenly I want to give her every answer in the world. But I don’t think I can. I’m just a bag of question marks these days, myself.
“Anything,” I whisper.
“Do you like my brother?”
“So that’s it?” Her tiny upturned nose crinkles. “You just think he’s nice?”
My heart starts to break. I can see now the answer that Marky wants to hear.
“I think he’s really nice.”
“Do you think your boyfriend is really nice?”
There it is. Marky speared me right in the heart, and she doesn’t even know it.
“I don’t think I have a boyfriend anymore.” The words sting just coming from my lips. “But, yes, Wesley is a nice guy, too.” When he’s not busy laying down for the Counts like an offering.
“Really?” Marky hops up and down, taking me with her. “That means Cooper can be your boyfriend!”
A breath gets caught in my throat. How the hell do I respond to that?
“What’s going on?” A voice booms from behind, and we turn to find Coop in his practice jersey, his Ephemeral sweats, looking so damn hot my stomach bottoms out like a trap door. The slight curve of a smile hugs his cheek as if he heard.
Marky steps into him and buries her tiny little finger in his chest.
“Laken doesn’t have a boyfriend anymore, so you better shape up!” She stalks off toward the kitchen, and the clatter of cookie sheets fills the air.
Coop ticks his head back. A knowing smile buds on his lips. There’s a coolness about him that makes my knees turn to water, and I want nothing more than to feel his body pressed up against mine.
“How about it, Laken? Should I shape up?” He bears those sky-grey eyes into mine. Coop wants answers just as much as I do.
“I don’t think so.” I wrap my arm around him, pressing his body close to mine just the way I’ve wanted to all night—the way I’ve needed to. “I like you just the way you are. Let’s go make some cookies.”
Marky calls for us, and we head into the kitchen.
The only one that has to shape up around here is me.
Entropy Page 17
