Entropy

by Addison Moore

  We all want answers. Now if I can only figure out how to pry them out of my heart. And I know one surefire way to do it.

  I need to break it.

  There’s simply no other way.

  Cooper

  Laken and Marky make batch after batch of chocolate chip cookies as if it were their sole responsibility to feed the entire Western hemisphere. I helped with the first batch, then ate my way through the last nineteen rounds. Marky was the one who sat me down with a tall glass of milk, and Laken made sure to give me the first cookie from each batch to make sure they weren’t “poison.” Glad to report they weren’t.

  Marky stretches her arms in the air. “Well, I’m pooped. I think I’ll curl up with a good book.” She jumps over to Laken, nearly knocking her down to the ground. “Thank you for being so nice to me.”

  My stomach sinks like a ship. If Laken and I don’t end up together, it’ll break Marky’s heart as much as it will mine. I tousle my sister’s hair as she takes off for the stairs.

  “Are you high off all that sugar, Flanders?” Laken twists a dishtowel in her hands before snapping it at my hips.

  “Whoa.” I snatch her weapon of choice and toss it behind my back. I don’t hesitate pulling her in by the waist, and Laken bubbles with a laugh. “I’m high off you, Stewart.”

  Her smile softens as she tilts into me. “You know I love it when you call me that.”

  “I know.” Our eyes lock and the world stills. It’s just Laken and me, our bodies connected at the hips as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and it feels as if it is.

  Her tongue swipes over her lips, glossing them quickly. Laken tucks her head in toward mine an inch, and my eyes widen. We haven’t shared a kiss since that night in the hotel, that night Wesley came from nowhere and changed everything between Laken and me in a heartbeat. I’ve been meaning to tell her that I want her to be sure with him. To really take her time before making any decisions regarding who she wants to be with, but a part of me says screw that. I lean in a little, and she does the same. Laken’s eyes begin to close. Her lips part as she comes in closer. Her breathing picks up pace, as does mine, and my hard-on knocks at my Levis.

  “Here you are.” My father’s voice booms from behind, and we part ways looking nothing short of guilty.

  Shit. “Yup, we’re here.” I shoot him a look without meaning to.

  “I’m sorry.” He swallows down a laugh. Dad has on his tweed cardigan, his thick framed glassed. “I didn’t realize I was interrupting.”

  “No.” Laken takes a step forward, shaking her head emphatically. “We just finished baking some cookies. Would you like some?”

  “No.” Dad’s smile expands because he knows what else we were just about to cook up. “I thought you might be interested to know there’s been an edict given by the Counts. They’ll begin exterminating the Spectators on their own sometime in the near future.” He gives a slight nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll turn in early. This news doesn’t sit well with me.” He stares over at me with a sudden look of disappointment. “Be careful you two.” He shakes his head, exasperated. “I realize you’re young and in love.” He takes in a breath, and secretly I hope he chokes on it long enough to forget his train of thought. “I’m not as good at having this talk as some other parents might be, but please, be careful. You have bright futures ahead of you. Immediate gratification might feel good in the moment, but sometimes it comes with lifelong consequences.” He flexes a dry smile. “Don’t make me a grandpa just yet.” He takes off, and I want nothing more than to grind myself down the garbage disposal.

  “That wasn’t awkward at all.” Note to self, have a little talk with Dad.

  That insatiable smile bounces back to her lips as she swoops on over.

  “I don’t mind.” She wraps her arms around my waist, and I do the same, pulling her in close. “I like that your dad is trying to protect you—both of us.”

  “From each other.” I narrow my brows.

  Laken knocks her head back and lets out an effortless laugh. “He’s just trying to make sure we save procreation for another day.”

  She bites down over a smile as her hips grind into mine. Laken is playful and light, and the words I wanted to share with her tonight suddenly feel like a noose around my neck. I’m pretty sure if the situation were reversed, Wes wouldn’t be asking her to explore her feelings for me just to be sure.

  “I’m all for saving procreation for another day.” I swallow hard. “As long as I’m the one who gets to procreate with you.” Shit. Could I sound more desperate? Not to mention it’s a far cry from the endorsement I was about to gift Wes.

  “Really?” She tilts into me, her lips edging for that kiss again. “You would want that with me?” Her lips twitch with an acute sadness, and I don’t even want to guess what it could mean. I’m pretty sure I’d die if she broke my heart right here in the kitchen. For all I know, Laken could be giddy off cookie dough, and doling out kisses is simply one of the side effects.

  The smile glides from my face. “Yes,” I press it out lower than a whisper. “I want a lot of things with you.” I shake my head as if contradicting the words that just flew from my lips. Her mouth opens, and I gently lay a finger over it. “No, please, don’t say anything. I don’t want you to feel like you’ve been backed in a corner to share your feelings. I know you still have something with Wes. I get it. I want you to know that I support whatever you decide. Laken, I will never judge you.” I touch my forehead to hers a moment. “I just want to see you happy. That’s all.” And that’s as close as I get to marketing Wesley to her heart. Having Laken here, so close—touching me— is like tossing lighter fluid on the flames. I think I’m already in the fire. I hope I don’t get burned in the end. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fair share of fantasies where he morphs into a football, and I score the winning touchdown by kicking him across the field.” I tickle her ribs to try and pull us out of the pit I’ve inadvertently landed us in. “But then again, you sort of dominate my fantasies.” True as God.

  Laken secures me by the chin until my eyes are settled over hers once again.

  “I have never met anyone like you before, Cooper Flanders.” Laken drips with grief as she says it. Her mouth opens as if she wanted to say something else then aborts the effort. “Morph into a football?” She looks away, confused by my idiotic descriptive.

  Great. First, I practically shove her in Wesley’s direction, then I recant and let her know I regularly kick his ass in my screwed-up imagination.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone there.” I run my hands up over her shoulders, trying to pull her back into the moment. If she offers up that kiss again, I won’t hesitate to take it. But now that I made myself sound like a douchebag by reducing Wes to a sack of pigskin I’d like nothing more than to kick the shit out of, I’m pretty sure she’s changed her mind.

  “No, it’s not that.” She pulls free and touches her fingers to her temple a moment.

  “Laken, what’s wrong?” My arms refuse to let go. Instead, I tighten my grip around her.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing, but you just reminded me of something Wes said a while back.” She looks up and holds my stare. “Something about Celestra having a power they were too stupid to know about.”

  “What’s that?” Suddenly I’m not feeling too bad about wanting to kick him across the field.

  “He said they could shape shift—morph into any creature they wanted.”

  What the hell? “I’ve never heard that. It’s not true.” I shake my head. “You think he’s trying to throw you off?”

  “He was convinced. He said when he drinks their blood, he can do it himself. Maybe it’s that girl he’s taking it from? Skyla.”

  “No. Only Fem’s can do the things he’s talking about.”

  Laken’s eyes widen with fear. I lead her straight back to my father’s office and open his laptop.

  “What are you doing?” She slips on the armrest
beside me as I pull up the genetic info I had my dad compile a few weeks back.

  “Just extinguishing one last doubt.” I type in his name—Wesley Paxton, and his databank pops up. “Shit,” it slips out without meaning to.

  “What is it?” Laken leans in until we’re cheek to cheek.

  “This.” I point over to the genetic markers next to his angelic listing.

  “I don’t get it. All I see is Countenance—NSO.”

  I touch the notation at the bottom. “NSO—no specific origin. Nobody else has an undetermined factor, Laken.” I look over at her and give the hint of a nod as she pieces it together on her own.

  “Oh my, God.” Laken steadies her eyes over mine. “You think he’s Demetri’s son, don’t you?”

  My heart hammers over my chest with both horror and elation. “I know he is.”

  Wesley

  The clouds lose their luminosity as the day fades to grey. Ephemeral is lit up like a winter wonderland in honor of tonight’s formal. It’s the one dance they like to keep on campus. Mom says it’s because you can never trust if we’re going to have an early snow. But, then again, she’s not my real mother, just some special issue from the Counts. I smirk into the night on my way to pick up Laken.

  “Mr. Paxton!”

  I turn to find my newfound father striding toward me. Now there’s a biological surprise I’d like to forget.

  “What?” I gruff it out. I knew I should have hurried and went ahead with Fletch. But I wanted to take my time and get my hair just right for Laken. Like she’s going to judge this contest on my follicular standing. I’m an idiot. I’m pretty sure Laken sees that. And when she finds out I’m a bastardized Fem, I’m sure she’ll want nothing to do with my sorry ass. That’s part of the reason I’ve decided not to tell her—yet, anyway.

  Demetri slaps his arm over my shoulder and walks me away from the crowd. “You ready for tonight?”

  “Let’s see—I’ve got my tux on, my dancing shoes, so yes. I think I’m fucking ready for tonight.” I flick his arm off and keep walking.

  He pulls me back with no real effort on his part. “How you amuse yourself this evening is the least of my concerns. I’m talking about the burning of the bridge.” He shifts his stare to the overgrown forest on our left. Bridge burning. That’s the name of the project they’ve given to taking out the Spectators. Jones has decided to utilize me to do his dirty work. He wants every single spook out of Trinity County by midnight. He said he’ll arm me with enough gas bombs to stop a herd of elephants—that is if they happen to be partially deceased, frozen in a rigor state. Ezrina guaranteed it would take them down in minutes—dissolve their flesh to ashes within twenty-four hours. Not that she can fully be trusted. The damn witch came from Celestra to begin with.

  “Yeah, I’m ready.” I yank my elbow free from his grasp. “Is that what you came for? To give me some pointers on how to take down the Spectators? Or maybe a little father-son bonding time is what you were really after.” I grit the words through my teeth.

  “Now, Wesley”—he gives it with a dull, expiring laugh—“I wish you the best tonight both in and out of those woods. But do yourself a favor, and guard your heart. It’s prone to get broken if you keep pining for someone else’s girl.” Wickedness gleams off him like a sheen. It’s undeniable. He’s an unthinkable kind of evil, and knowing I’m derived from him sends a chill right down to my soul.

  “You mean Flanders’ girl.” I sag into myself momentarily stunted by the trauma of the idea.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “It’s not happening on my watch.” I stride past him, down the hill toward Austen House. It’s never happening if I have anything to say about it.

  I hit the entrance and stride on in without looking back to see if dear, old Dad is gloating over my shoulder. Instead, I head into the dorm as the thick, cloying scent of every perfume known to womankind collides right here in the entry.

  “Look at you.” Kresley is quick to wrap herself around me like a serpent. That can only mean Laken is around and ready to witness the event.

  “Knock it off.” I peel her limbs away just short of landing her on the floor.

  “Hey, you know what’s been bugging me?” She pokes a finger in her cheek and tilts into my body, manipulative as hell. Not that she’s any good at it.

  “I’m not interested.” I try to make my way toward the common room, but she holds me back a moment.

  “If Laken is your Essential, why the hell has Cooper Flanders been pawing all over her the last half-hour?” She points over by the fireplace, and I see them. Laken has her hair tied back. She’s wearing a simple navy dress and looks stunning. My heart picks up pace, my dick begs me to make her mine tonight in the very worst way. Coop stands next to her with his hand cradling her elbow. They whisper into one another with a strangled intensity. Probably inventing new ways to get rid of me.

  “None of your damn business.”

  Kresley spins me around before I can take off. She spears me with those overly made up eyes, those clownish lips. “I thought so. It never happened, did it?”

  I shake my head. “Nope.” I don’t know why the hell I felt the need to confess to Kres, of all people, but something about verbalizing it feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

  “It’s okay.” Her features morph into genuine heartbreak for me as she cups the side of my face. “I promise, Wes, I will always be here for you. Whatever this thing was with Laken, I forgive you.”

  A body brushes up against me, and Laken is quick to insert herself between the two of us. “Whatever this thing is with Laken?” A dark laugh bubbles from her throat. Coop stands behind her decked out in his rent-a-tux, his thirteen-dollar cologne, and it takes an effort not to slug him for the hell of it. “Look, Kres, whatever’s going on between Wes and me is our business. No one’s looking for any help from you—so you can stop volunteering.” She threads her arm through mine.

  “That’s right,” I say to Kresley, trying to get her out of my life once and for all. Besides, I need Laken to see I’m aligned with her, or I’ll never win her heart or her trust. “Laken and I can handle this.” I look over to Coop for a second. “This is just another bump in the road. We’ll get through it.” I land a kiss over Laken’s cheek, and my insides soften to butter. I want her in the worst way right now. I always have.

  Kres shakes her head in pity. “I’ll still be here for you when she dumps you, Wes. The tragedy is, she already has, and you just haven’t accepted it yet.”

  I speed us out the door and welcome the cold slap of wind against my face.

  We head toward Dickenson Hall, Laken in the middle with Coop and I ensconcing her like bookends. I wonder how long this will stretch out before she clears her head and makes a decision. I wonder if I’d let it stretch out forever—hell, I know I would.

  The last thing I’ll do is admit that Kres is right.

  She might be.

  A part of me knows she is.

  Dickenson Hall is lit up like a Christmas tree with a million twinkle lights sprayed out.

  “It’s beautiful,” Laken whispers. It’s the first thing she’s said—that any of us have said since I’ve arrived.

  “You’re the only beautiful thing I see.” I twist into her, wrapping my arm around her waist, not really caring about any unspoken rules that might be in play tonight. “You look gorgeous.”

  Laken flexes her hips into mine, and I go for it. I wrap both arms around her and pull her in. I’m feeling it, and I hope she is, too. Laken and I have always had an undeniable chemistry.

  “I think”—she nods toward the tables sitting around the facility with their flickering candles, their tall vases filled with blood red roses—“we should go have dinner.”

  Laken leads us over to the table with Fletch and Carter. Jen and Blaine join us and fill out the rest of the chairs.

  “Ladies.” Blaine nods into the table as he takes a seat. “Everyone here looks dressed to impress
. Nice work.”

  The wait staff starts shuffling around, and, before we know it, a crisp, green salad lands in front of each of us.

  “So, Laken”—Fletch hoses down his lettuce with ranch dressing like he were putting out a fire—“I see you finally found something worth collecting—men.” He knocks his elbow into Carter, and she rolls her eyes.

  “Be quiet, Fletcher.” Jen is quick with the reprimand. “Laken is a beautiful young lady who’s simply exercising her options.”

  Laken’s mouth falls open. I bet she’s sorry she’s not within strangling distance.

  I hate the thought of being referred to as an option, but, at least, I’m still on the table—for now.

  “That’s right.” Blaine tweaks his brows into his food, and I can feel it coming. “So when Wes shows up with a spare girl to prom, Laken will be the first to understand.”

  “Shut up, Blaine.” I close my eyes a moment before turning to Laken. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” Blaine scoffs, lifting his water goblet as if he’s ready to commence a toast. “Turnabout’s fair play. Isn’t that right, Laken?”

  “Enough.” Jen tries to defuse the situation.

  “Enough is right.” I growl over at my brother. I’m about ready to turn this entire damn table over. “Laken and I are going through some pretty heavy stuff right now, and I’d appreciate it if you’d give us a little breathing room. I’m sure Coop doesn’t want to listen to your bullshit either, so cap it.”

  Laken reaches under the table and clasps onto my fingers. Thank you.

  She keeps her hand over mine for a good long while. I’m starting to think the road to Laken’s heart was paved by Cooper’s boots, hell, I’ll lick them if I have to.

  “So, Coop…” I lean over and begin a conversation about Ephemeral football that spans an hour.

  Game on.

  When the tables clear off and the lights go down, I ask Laken if she wants to dance. It’s an upbeat song, and I would rather drown in vomit than shake my body to it, but if this is what it’s going to take to keep Laken away from Coop, I’m in.