The line goes quiet. The even pattern of his breathing has been replaced with a morbid silence.
“Jones?”
“I’m here.” He lets out a breath into the receiver. “To answer your question, yes, he does.”
“Great. Where are they? I need to find his son.”
“What for?”
“Demetri says he’s the key to getting Laken’s friends and family out of those tunnels.”
“Is that so?” He huffs a laugh into the line. “And now we have a Fem who thinks he’s in charge of the Counts. I’d like to see that happen.”
“He’s letting them out,” I insist. “Laken will never be happy until her family is free. And what the fuck are Counts doing down there to begin with?”
“Who said they were Counts?” And with that the line goes dead.
Rain drives down hard and violent as it falls over the cathedral-like windows of the Ephemeral library. Laken helps as we check out a steady stream of students and their towers of books. But I keep stealing glances at her, watching as her golden hair falls over her shoulder, the way her chest bounces when she laughs, the innocent way her teeth graze over her bottom lip, and it’s all I can do not to get a hard-on while looking at her. As soon as the crowd dies down, I nod her over.
“Hey, good looking.” She wraps her arms around my waist and presses a kiss over my chest. “You called?” She bats her lashes at me.
I love these spontaneous displays of affection. I love that Laken isn’t hiding me away like I’m afraid she might be Coop. I push the thought out of my head. I asked him to meet Laken and me here once our shift is up. I figured I’d fill them both in on the Spectator trouble at the same time. I don’t mind spooking Laken if I know it’ll help keep her out of the woods. I just want her safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.
“I want to talk to you about Sunday night.”
“The meeting.” She nods, giving a brief look around. The library is dead so she doesn’t have to worry about anyone listening in.
“It’s going to be our first time,” I whisper. “Are you okay with that?”
Laken swallows hard like maybe she’s not. Her eyes shift around the vicinity as if she’s looking for the answer on the walls. “Wes, don’t you think it’s kind of weird we have to consummate anything at a meeting of all places? It borders on sick, don’t you think?”
“I promise it’ll be a private event—just you and me.”
“Then maybe we could, you know, play it off—we could do it somewhere else, all by our lonesome and take the entire night to do it.”
My stomach turns. “I’m not trying to spook you, or sway you in any way, but they will know. I’m not sure what will happen if we try to pull one over on them. A six month suspension probably.” Most likely a year, but I don’t bother with details at this point. “Laken, if this isn’t for you—if I’m not the one…” I shake my head. “ I don’t want you to regret this.”
Laken gazes over my shoulder as if she were weighing the balance of her future right here in this room.
“Of course, I won’t regret this. I guess we’re going to start our future together this Sunday night.” She breaks out in a tragically sad smile. “And then, after, we’ll head to the tunnels to free those we love. Can we take everybody?”
“No, they’d try us for treason. But for you”—I touch my fingers to her cheek—“for us they have to honor our first request. They won’t deny us our loved ones, Laken. I promise you this.”
She gives a hurried nod. “I’m going to hold my sister, my mother, again in just a few short days.” Laken latches onto me with a fierce embrace, burying her face in my chest.
The bell goes off three times in a row, and we turn to find Coop standing at the counter, dripping wet and pissed as a junkyard dog. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.” I pull Laken back and look into her tear-filled eyes. “Hope you don’t mind, there was something I wanted to talk to the both of you about. Let’s hit a spot in the back.” I get one of the girls stocking shelves to take over the front and lead Coop and Laken toward a table as far away from the nearest student as possible.
“What’s up?” Coop nods over at me before reverting his attention to Laken. “Everything okay?” He pulls his gaze over her features torturously slow as if he wanted far more explanation than she could ever give him—at least around me.
“Everything’s fine.” She reassures. “I’m fine.”
Coop takes a breath before knocking on the table to get my attention. “My little sister is home alone. I need to split, so this better be quick.”
“Jones called today.” I glance over at Laken. “There’s been a rash of kidnappings in downtown Trinity. He’s pretty certain the Spectators are behind it.”
“Oh my, God.” Laken touches her hand to her chest in horror. “What do you think has them riled up enough to resort to something like that?”
“We don’t know,” I say. “Orders are to herd them up. They’ve got to go before they do anymore damage. The Counts are through playing nice.”
“That’s funny”—Laken averts her eyes—“the Counts have done a lot of things, and playing nice isn’t one of them.”
A moment of silence strokes by, and I don’t bother telling Laken she’s right, that the Counts have set a timer to the questionable lives of the Spectators.
“I think the Counts are out of luck.” Coop raises his brows like he really doesn’t give a damn. “I don’t have a big enough net. The Spectators are far too sophisticated—far too spread out, for me to land every single one back in the Transfer. There has to be another way.”
“Coop.” I close my eyes a moment. Jones was right. He’s way too much of a bleeding heart. “Get them to the Transfer. They don’t belong in this world.” All we need is to start Napalming them before they realize it’s fucking on. Coop’s our safest bet. The last thing we need is a war on our hands.
“They don’t belong in that world, either.” His phone goes off, and he checks the text. “Marky’s getting spooked. I’d better make tracks.” He gets up and slips his backpack over his shoulder. He nods over at me before glancing back at Laken. “See you when I see you.”
Laken gives the hint of a smile, doesn’t say a word, doesn’t say goodbye.
See you when I see you.
Why do I get the feeling they’re talking in code?
But what I really want to know is why in the hell do I suddenly feel like I’m not enough for Laken?
6
Last Chance for Love
Laken
The night sky above Austen House is a pressing black. I don’t ever remember the sky looking so bleak, so dismal—altogether without hope. It’s as if it were trying to tell us something—to predicate something so fierce and terrible the only way it knew how.
I run in through a break in the rain to find Jen sitting behind the den mother’s desk up front. She has her Yankee Candle collection lining the expanse of the mahogany with her plug in waterfall constructed from mid-eastern stones, and the whole thing feels rather Zen.
“Good, you’re here.” She pulls a nail file out of the drawer without looking up. “I have some paperwork for you to sign regarding that Hattie girl. Just a disclaimer that says you know nothing about her whereabouts. I’ll bring it to your room before I take off.”
“Sounds good.” I wish I did know about Hattie’s whereabouts. I trot up the stairs two by two. Something about seeing Coop tonight made my heart skip, made my whole person feel as if I’m filling with helium.
“Goodnight, Laken!” Two friendly voices sing in unison from the common room. It’s probably Kresley and Grayson giving me the middle finger salute or Jax and Fallon doing the same, well, Jax anyway. I glance down ready to wave in the event it’s actually someone I like and freeze with a scream locked in my throat.
“Shit!” It pops from my lungs without permission from my vocal cords.
The Tobias sisters stare up at me in their disintegrated stat
es—balding, emaciated, skin over bone, and I take a breath, nearly tumbling over the railing in the process.
“Laken?” Jen steps around to where they’re standing, clearly missing the show. “Everything okay?”
“I just—”
The Tobias sisters evaporate to a vellum state and float up the stairs beside me.
They scream, angry and fierce, as if they were being violated in a fate worse than death. Leaving my ears ringing from the horrific howls. And, then, just like that, they’re gone.
“Laken?” Jen’s eyes round out with irritation.
“I’m sorry. I must have tripped and turned my ankle. I’m fine now.” I run the rest of the way to my room, slam the door, and lock myself inside.
“You always make such a grand entrance?” Carter looks up from her book.
“Just on days that end in Y.” I sling my bag to the floor and flop on the bed. “Why the hell is this place so creepy, anyway?”
“What do you mean?” She sits up Indian style with her hair pale as sugar cookies.
“You know, Casper, Hattie… things have been known to get weird fast.”
She sucks in a breath. “You know what I just realized?”
“You’ve been sucking face with my brother these past few weeks, and now you wish life had a rewind button?”
“Very funny.” She tosses her book at me and misses. “No, the fact Casper and Hattie were both your roommates. It sounds to me like you have a bad track record with your new roomies, and guess what part I get to play in this horror flick?”
I glance over at her and weigh the odds of anything remotely rotten happening to poor, sweet Carter. “It’s doubtful you’ll go missing.”
“God”—she leaps off her bed and onto mine in a single bound—“it’s like that bed is cursed. You think I should have the mattress burned?”
“Only if you’re worried about bed bugs. Besides, Flynn is missing, and he never once slept in that bed.”
“No, but we had a little f-u-n in this room. Oh my, God! It’s true!” She pulls her knees up and hugs them.
“Stop.” I sit up and lean against the pillow fort I’ve got going on at the head of my bed. “Let’s change the subject.” I pull my sweatshirt over my knees and blow out a breath. “I’m about to have a little f-u-n.” I glance down, losing myself in the comforter.
“Oh my, gosh!” She leans over and pushes me so hard I nearly topple off the bed. “Which one, Coop or Wes?”
“Wes,” I say, incredulous. I thought Coop and I made it pretty clear we were just friends. Hell, if you judge our relationship by these last few weeks, it seems we’re less than that. “But a part of me wishes it were Coop,” I whisper it so low I’m not sure she heard. “And I wonder if that’s because I know I can never have him.”
“Aww!” Carter bounces over and lands her arm around my shoulder. “Oh, sweetie! If you want Coop, just sleep with Coop. He’d totally be down for that.”
I avert my eyes at the thought. “Carter, life doesn’t work like that. I’m committed to Wes. I’m in love with him.”
“If you’re so in love with him, why are you wasting time wishing you could wrap your legs around Coop?”
Leave it to Carter to get to the point. “I’m not. I mean I don’t want that. I mean I might want it a little bit, but that’s because I’m momentarily confused.” I pull back to get a better look at her. “You see, Wes and I used to be strong—then something sort of wedged its way between us, and while there was this rift, Coop stepped up beside me and was there when I needed him.”
“And now?” She nods like she knows. “The rift is gone, and your feelings for Coop didn’t magically disappear like you hoped they would?”
“I’m not sure I ever hoped they would,” I say it low, ashamed of my admission.
“So what’s the rush to have some fun? You hoping Wes will bring it, and you’ll forget all about Flanders?”
I let out a breathy laugh—first one all day. “No. It’s some freaky Count ritual—that Ensign thing we did a few weeks back.”
“There’s no fucking in the firebrand, trust me I’ve tried to get a—” Her eyes round out. Carter brings her hands up and covers her mouth without bothering to finish her sentence. “Are you thinking about becoming Wesley’s Essential?”
“Yeah, I know it’s sort of a big deal.”
“Sort of a big deal?” She kicks me in the leg. “Laken, that’s an honor only reserved for the who’s-who in Count-ville—not to mention the fact it bonds you for life.” She pulls back, her brows dipping in confusion.
“Yeah, but we did that when I became his spirit wife, remember?”
“That was a little different. It means your spirits will always have a special connection, but it still leaves room for other loves. You know, it doesn’t condemn anyone to a certain death if they ever try to be with you.”
“What are you talking about? Outside of some freaky altar action, Wes didn’t mention anything about the grim reaper showing up. I’m pretty sure neither Wes or I want to meet some untimely demise.” Carter probably just has her facts mixed up.
“Not you, silly—or Wes, for that matter. We’re talking any extracurricular lovers, you know, like Coop.”
“Coop?” I tick my head back. “Okay, rewind because I’m totally confused.”
“Yeah, you didn’t know? Rumor has it, once you become Essentials, you’re stuck with one another always and forever, and if anything happens to one of you, the other one still can’t get laid without having their play station turn into the killing fields.”
“Oh my, God.” I straighten. “You mean they just die right there in the bed?”
“Oh, no. Are you kidding? This is the Counts we’re talking about. It’s a grueling fight to the finish. I believe some serious volcanic rear-end action is involved. I think it takes about three days. But most people just slit their throats because, really? Who wants a steady stream of lava shooting out their ass?”
“Holy crap.”
“Exactly—it’s that scary. I can see what has you so down. If you don’t hop in bed with Coop before Sunday, it’ll never happen. You want to head over, and I’ll cover for you?”
The door closes, and we look up to find Jen has stealthy entered the room.
“Covering for Laken?” Jen shoots me a look. “What mess are you in now?”
“I’m not in a mess.” I shake my head aggressively at Carter.
“Laken’s getting ready to have some f-u-n with Wes Sunday night and was wondering if she could have some—”
I swat her over the face with a pillow in the event she decides to let out all my deep, dark secrets by way of the alphabet. I should have known better than to confide in anyone willing to date my brother. That, alone, is a serious red flag in the morals department.
Jen’s eyes spin like pinwheels. “Carter would you mind leaving my sister and me alone for a moment? I think we’re going to need some serious privacy.”
“Oh, I don’t think Laken and I have any secrets.” Carter shakes her head while looking from me to Jen. “I know all about her feelings for—”
I smack her again with the pillow, and she bounces off the bed and out the door.
“I don’t need this kind of abuse, Anderson.” She mouths the words good luck before shutting the door behind her.
“What’s this about?” Jen glides across the floor like an apparition. “Are you and Wes thinking about going all the way?”
“Geez.” I sink into the mattress. Jen has the sexual sensibility of someone from the sixteenth-century. “Actually”—I blow out a breath—“yes, we sort of are.” I fill her in on the Count ritual where Wes and I become Essential to one another forever and threaten to kill poor Coop by way of his gastrointestinal system if he ever even thinks of getting near my girl parts.
“Laken.” She scoots in next to me before dropping her head in her hands. “That’s pretty serious stuff. Can I ask what prompted the Essential debate between you and Wes?”
/>
“It’s no debate.” I hold back from telling her all the fun details on why we’re so desperate to do the deed. I’m pretty sure other girls don’t screw their boyfriends for their mother’s welfare. It’s a strange predicament, but I’ve sort of been attracting those very things as of late. “Wes and I are…” A part me wants to say desperate, but in actuality it’s just me who’s desperate. Wes is just bonding himself to me for life out of the kindness of his heart. It’s sad because if it were last summer and I had this opportunity, I would have jumped on it, or, more accurately, jumped on Wes and gladly given Kres the middle finger in the process. Not that I ever want to see Wes with Kresley again, or anyone else for that matter. “My heart breaks when I think of not having Wes in my life,” I whisper for no good reason.
“Oh, honey.” Jen wraps an arm around me. “Wesley’s a great guy. There’s no rush. He’ll wait for you until you’re good and ready. I have to admit I’m a little jealous that he’s invited you to be his Essential. That’s the apex of romance if you ask me.” She gets that dreamy, faraway look in her eye that one might equate with a bad soap opera. “I was hoping Blaine would ask me one day. I mean”—she shakes herself back to reality—“it’s sort of the only way to ever know he’ll never cheat. He can’t, right? And neither could you.”
“Oh, right, the Counts anal revenge. Ridiculous bastards.”
“Hey.” She pushes into me. “You’re one of them, too, you know. You should be proud. Besides, this is an amazing event in your life. I’m going to do something special for you Saturday during the Austen House commemoration just to prove it.”
“Thank you.” I pull her in and lay my head on her shoulder. “I’d like that. But please don’t cause a scene. I think at this point, Wes and I want to keep it kind of private.”
“Private?” Her chest rumbles. “You do realize the two of you will only be separated by a ring of fire. Try not to get vocal on us.”