Ethereal

  “I mean just you guys and,” I look over at Brielle. “My brother will be there. Kate and Nat can come. My mom has this thing about my stepbrother meeting people. I know she’ll be OK with it.” Never mind the fact I almost clawed her flesh off this morning. I’m sort of hoping she’s already forgotten all about that incident.

  “Sounds good.” Logan picks up my hand. But we need to be alone—just you and me. That’s when I’ll tell you.

  Tell me now, please.

  Alone.

  Am I going to freak when I hear it?

  He doesn’t say anything. Not a single thought sails through his mind.

  You don’t think I can handle it, do you? I ask.

  It’s not that I don’t think you can’t handle it. Once you realize who you are, you won’t ever get a chance to go back.

  Who am I?

  Skyla.

  Not funny. I don’t scare easy.

  You’re lying. He gives a bleak smile.

  So it’ll frighten me?

  It will and it should.

  Chapter Nine

  Speechless

  “And Drake,” I motion over at him sprawled across the sectional. “He could meet all the really important kids who go to Paragon.” I nod to my mother.

  Brielle and I have spent the last several minutes building our case for a simple movie night in with friends. Just the sheer heft of how hard it is convincing my mom, you would think we were asking to sacrifice kittens at midnight.

  “I’m all for it. I’ll take Tad out for a surprise date and catch the ten o’clock show. Fair enough?”

  “What about the girls?” I hadn’t even thought of Mia and Melissa until they walked past us five seconds ago.

  “They’ll come with.” She relaxes into the idea.

  “Really?” A small squeal of delight escapes.

  “We’ve still got boxes everywhere and don’t think it hasn’t gone unnoticed that you haven’t exactly been digging into them.”

  “I swear,” I hold my right hand in the air. “I will tackle those boxes Sunday morning.”

  “Nice try, but I’m dragging the whole lot of you to church.”

  Brielle gives an audible laugh.

  “It wouldn’t hurt if you joined us.” Mom offers.

  “Thanks, but no thanks.” Brielle averts her eyes when my mother’s not looking. Once my mom has a chance to meet Darla, and get to know her, I think she’ll realize they have polarizing parental opinions.

  My parents used to go to church when my dad was alive. It was mostly something my dad did. I haven’t seen the inside walls of hallowed ground since my mother married the antichrist.

  “OK, Sunday afternoon. And we won’t make a mess. You’ll see.”

  ***

  “Bitch squad, three o’ clock.” Brielle pushes me into the clearance rack at the mall.

  I hadn’t really thought about clothes before, but after ransacking my closet it was clear there was nothing in there Logan worthy to wear tomorrow night.

  “Would you stop?” I push her off. “I’m not afraid of them.” I watch as Michelle, Lexy and Emily glide in and turn their noses up at the meager offerings. “If they hate everything so much maybe they should jump off Devil’s peak.” A part of me can’t believe I said that out loud. I keep forgetting that comments like that bring up the pain of Chloe’s death. It’s embarrassing how many times I’ve emotionally slit Brielle’s wrists with my tongue and let her bleed with grief. “Sorry.” I whisper as the three of them head in our direction.

  “No offense taken.” Brielle pretends to interest herself in an ugly striped sweater.

  “So Michelle,” Emily ups the volume of her ultra annoying voice for our benefit. “You give Logan back his sweater yet?”

  I look up. It’s like hearing his name inspires some kind of kneejerk reaction in me. And why would she have his sweater? Probably bullshit.

  “I haven’t seen him yet. After all, he just left it at my house last night.” They break out into a round of howls. The sound of their voices erodes the peace and quiet of the store, fills my ears with its chaffing rhythm. I can tell by their serene expressions that making me miserable offers them a unique brand of nirvana.

  Emily boldly makes her way over. Her short dark curls frame her face like a picture I once saw of a mermaid in the book of fairytales my father used to read to me at bedtime. I used to wish I could be like that girl, jump into the water and swim with the fishes, live in that magical underwater world.

  “I guess I owe you an apology.” She blinks her watery blue eyes.

  I’m so stupefied by the notion—struck without words. Emily Morgan, the evil mermaid, eating crow? Doubtful.

  “I guess you didn’t steal everything from Chloe.” Emily walks in a small circle as Lexy replaces her in the line up.

  “How does it feel to be sleeping in the same room that Logan did Chloe? Has he done you there too? You know, it being familiar stomping grounds and all. He is known for being sort of insatiable in that department, isn’t that right Michelle?”

  “I don’t kiss and tell, Lex.” A slow spreading grin widens across Michelle’s face.

  It’s like I see her for the first time, her dark honeyed skin, eyes black as midnight, her lips naturally pulled into a snarl whether the occasion warrants it or not. Her hair falls down in glossy burnt umber waves, well past her shoulders. It’s a wicked beauty she holds. I can see guys lining up around the block to take a ride if she threw out the offer. I’m not buying that Logan is one of them.

  “Let’s go.” I whisper to Bree.

  “Not so fast.” Michelle steps out in front of me. “Logan says you’re having a party tomorrow night? Mind if we come?” She clogs up the air with her sarcastic drivel.

  “Really? Logan told you that?” I don’t believe a word coming from her mouth. I’m sure she vomits lies in her sleep.

  “Yup. He says it’s going to be really exciting, what with all the movies and popcorn. Oh wait he didn’t mention the popcorn, but I’m sure you’ll provide. Can I bring anything?” Michelle digs into me with a look of satisfaction.

  “Oh I know!” Emily interjects. “We can all go to the library first and check out books. Then we can snuggle up on the couch together and read them round robin style.” They explode with laughter.

  “Oh wait!” Emily continues. “We can do personality makeovers!” She’s laughing so hard, tears streak down the side of her face, bleaching out her foundation with their white lightning tracks.

  Brielle grabs me by the elbow and rushes me out the door. The security alarm goes off. Looking down she holds out the ugly striped sweater before tossing it back into the store, nailing Michelle in the face with it.

  “If any of that crap about Logan is true, his ass is toast.” Brielle hisses.

  If any of that stuff about Logan is true I want off Paragon. I’ll swim all the way back to L.A. if I have to.

  Chapter Ten

  Gathering

  “So it’s prolly the wrong time to ask, but how exactly does one garner a handful of enemies in the short time we’ve been here?” Drake asks with a mouthful of chips.

  I slap the next chip out of his hand.

  “Stay away from the food. It’s not for you.” To say I’ve been a little pissed since my confrontation yesterday with the bitch squad is a tad bit of an understatement. I made Brielle promise she wouldn’t tell me whatever info she may have gleaned from her shift last night at the bowling alley. I want to hear it right out of Logan’s mouth—see his face when he tells me what exactly is going on. There are a thousand different scenarios playing out in my mind, but the truth is, not one of them makes me feel better. And the thought of Logan having sex with some dead girl in my bedroom sent me packing for the downstairs couch last night. I know she wasn’t dead at the time, but dead or alive, it hurt like hell to hear it.

  “Ignore us please.” Brielle sounds just as annoyed with Drake as I am. Maybe the delusion has been shattered, and she sees him for the
monkey boy he really is. “They’re everybody’s enemies.” She pulls a face.

  “So you’re saying I’m in good company.” I pour the lemonade I just mixed from powder into a large glass container my mother uses at her parties. Chips and dip? Lemonade? “This is so going to suck.” I slide my arm over my face in distress.

  “So what. We’re watching a movie. The guys are bringing pizza. And by nights end you may not hate Michelle so much.”

  My eyes dart over to her accusingly. She’s implying that what Michelle said yesterday was true, at least partially. I hold up my hand. I don’t want to know anything else—for now.

  “When they get here, I’ll take him upstairs and he’ll tell me everything. Just start the movie, don’t go waiting for us. I’ve seen it a thousand times already.”

  “This innocent movie get together is a rouse for you to get it on with some guy upstairs in your bedroom?” Drake’s back straightens at his misinformed epiphany.

  At least mom, Tad and the girls have left, which leaves me free to beat the shit out of Drake for sport if I so choose.

  The doorbell goes off. Saved by the bell, literally.

  Brielle rushes over and lets them in. Gage strides in with a giant white pizza box. Natalie and Kate come in all smiles and hellos, each offering me a hug.

  “I can’t believe they did that to you.” Kate whispers in my ear. I’m not quite sure which offense she’s referencing. The list seems to grow by the hour.

  Logan steps in last. He looks luminescent with a crisp white t-shirt, simple dark jeans, white sneakers. His hair has track marks from his comb, and it’s still damp around the edges as though he’s fresh from the shower.

  “Hi.” He gives a soft embrace rubbing the skin on the back of my neck with his fingers. I’m innocent I swear.

  “I believe you.” I say the words out loud. I’m spellbound by him already. I think even if we didn’t share our gift I would be anyway.

  We gather in the family room where I toss around paper plates like Frisbees. Logan doesn’t eat, just stands off to the side with his arms folded across his chest.

  “So here’s the movie. If you don’t like it blame Drake.” It’s some cheesy movie from ten years ago. I point over to the cabinet beneath the TV. “There’s lots more crap where that came from.” That was Tad’s major contribution to the household a boatload of B movies.

  “You got the comedy channel?” Gage takes the remote and channel surfs while everyone finds a spot and gets comfy.

  “Hey, would you like a tour of the house?” I exaggerate my words over at Logan.

  “That would be great.” He matches my playful tone.

  “You’re going to miss the movie.” Kate pinches at my jeans as I walk by.

  “That’s the point.” Natalie pulls up a toss pillow and hugs it close to her chest. “They’re going to entertain themselves.”

  Gage turns around. His eyes spear through me like a javelin. There’s something hot about that penetrating stare. I want to know all of his secrets and Logan’s combined.

  “We’re just going to talk.” I don’t know why I felt the need to quantify my alone time with Logan, to Gage, but a small part of me wanted to. It’s like he knows me, but too much. Like we’re connected in some strange way that I don’t fully understand. There’s so much I don’t know. I plan on shaking all of the answers out of Logan in the next few hours. By the time I go to bed tonight, in the same room he supposedly did Chloe—I’ll know everything.

  “Hey Skyla?” Drake calls out as Logan and I are about to ascend the stairs. “There’s a stack of rubbers in my top drawer. I hear it’s a safer way to talk to people.” He roars with laughter.

  Freaking idiot.

  Chapter Eleven

  Truth

  I spent all morning cleaning and hiding the things that seem to multiply and run errant in my bedroom when I’m not looking. My bed is perhaps the neatest it’s been in its entire wicker-framed history. All of my stuffed animals, as embarrassing as it is to admit, are tucked safely underneath my bed.

  I scan the floor for any bras or underwear that may have gone undetected earlier. My clothes are native to the rug in the dead center of the room, which my mother has lovingly dubbed as the hamper.

  The room’s nothing special, and for sure nothing pretty since I’ve yet to unpack most of my personal things. The walls are still a dingy white. One day this summer I for sure want to paint it a really pretty green.

  “I’ll help.”

  “Help?” I let go of his hand and bounce over to the mattress. I pat the spot right next to me.

  “Paint your room.”

  “Are you kidding?” I bury my head in the pillow. I was so nervous about having him up here I completely forgot holding his hand was like inviting him front and center to listen in on my monologue about underwear.

  “And you hid things pretty well.” He reaches under the bed and yanks up a prize. The stuffed elephant I won at the county fair when I was eleven.

  “Give me that.” I laugh snatching the animal and hugging it hard across my chest. “Don’t touch him, he’s mine.”

  “So,” he digs his fingers into the hair at the base of my neck. “You want to know why I was at Michelle’s.” It comes out expressionless.

  “It’s none of my business where you go.” I drift my gaze over to the door—wonder if I locked it.

  “I locked it.” He smiles.

  “No reason to.” I say it cold.

  “Michelle has something I want.”

  “I hear most girls do.”

  “Not that. And no, most girls do not. You do.” He cocks his head to the side with a blatant flirtatious smile. “Something else. Something nobody else could give me.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “Say.” I command.

  “It’s something of Chloe’s?”

  “Who’s going to care? What’s the price you’ll pay if you tell me?”

  “You’ll want it.” His brows raise a notch. “I’m pretty sure I’ll want to give it to you, at least in part.”

  “OK.” A lungful of air expresses through my lips. “Anybody ever tell you, you talk in circles?” I clasp the fingers of his other hand. He’s warm. I feel so comfortable sitting on my bed with him. It’s strange. “Are you sleeping with Michelle?”

  “No.”

  “Have you slept with Michelle?”

  “Almost, but that was months after Chloe died and I was a head case.”

  “You sleep with Chloe in my bedroom?” I shoot the words out low, with a quick assault.

  Our eyes lock, imprisoning one another in a dead serious gaze.

  “Yes.”

  I push back a good six inches towards the headboard. It doesn’t feel right being around Logan at this moment. I can feel a million stupid things wanting to exit my mouth all at once—every single one an excuse to kick him in the face.

  He doesn’t say anything. Instead he leans back on the bed and covers his eyes with his arm. A soft breath of exasperation streams out from him.

  “It’s not like you knew me then.” I immediately regret my word choice. Who am I anyway? I’m just some girl he’s met. He’s probably known Chloe all his life. She was probably the love of his life, and if I start a relationship with him now I’ll always be competing with a dead girl. “Just tell me about the touch, how we can hear.” All I want now is for Logan Oliver to spill all his deep dark secrets and get the hell out of my bedroom.

  He sits up and scoots over, careful not to touch me.

  “I think we should do this with words.” He touches his lips when he says it.

  “Afraid to let me in, much?”

  He shakes his head.

  “More like, afraid to hear you.” His voice is careful, like he’s treading lightly so he won’t get burned. “It only happened twice. It was stupid. Chloe and I…” he shakes his head again. “She was a good person, but not the right person for me.” He picks up my hand. “She
wasn’t the best influence. By the time she disappeared we had already broken up, which put me at the top of the suspect list.”

  Logan is the last person I’d suspect in something like that.

  “Tell me what Michelle has.” I ask.

  “Her diary.”

  “Oh.”

  “She left something in it for me.” He pulls a face. “Anyway when I get it, I’m sure you’ll want to read it.” He picks up my hands again.

  I will, I say surprising myself with my honesty.

  I know. He blinks a smile.

  “So what about me? This thing?” I don’t want to talk about Chloe anymore, ever.

  He rattles my hand in the air and I take it back.

  “This thing. You said your dad did it?”

  “Yes. My mom and sister can’t.”

  “Your dad ever talk about his family? Do you know them?”

  “Just my grandma. She lives in a nursing home back in L.A. My mother left her there to rot.” Harsh, but true.

  “She ever talk about angels?”

  “All the time, but she’s senile. The doctors said it was one of her fixations. It was nonstop angels everyday, all the time.”

  “Well she might not be as senile as everybody thinks. The only other people that share our gift have Nephilim blood in them.”

  “Nephilim?” I draw back to get a better look at him.

  “Angels who chose their lust for women over their desire to remain on the frontlines for God. They came down and started families with human women as if they were one of them.”

  “Are you saying I’m part Nephilim?”

  “I’m pretty sure, but I’ll have to take a small vile of blood to be certain.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” My hearts races at the prospect. “I can’t stand the sight of blood.”

  “Well then, you’d make a lousy vampire.” His lips curve just shy of a smile.

  “And where do you send this vial? Angels-are-us?”

  “My uncle runs the mortuary. He has access to testing.”

  “Your uncle runs the mortuary? I thought your family ran the bowling alley?” Just the thought of a room full of dead bodies sends a chill up my spine.