Page 7 of Evanescent


  “Indeed, I’m the sole reason she was kicked out from somewhere.” He buries a smile into the side of his cheek.

  “I’m bringing her tomorrow night.” I wipe the water from my eyes. “I’m going to ask her to bond with me.”

  “A lifetime commitment at such a young age? Don’t be foolish. You haven’t had the chance to consider your options. So many pretty girls to choose from. Skyla, for instance, is a real catch. Rumor has it you’re just her type.” He lowers his chin as if he’s baiting me. “If I had to guess, I’d say you were made for one another.”

  I tick my head back. “She’d snatch my balls off if I tried to put a move on her. Besides, I’ve only got one girl in mind and that’s Laken.”

  “I see,” he muses. “And does she only have eyes for you?”

  He’s mocking me. He knows something, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to ask what.

  “She loves me. I’m sure of it.”

  He shakes his head, slow and sober. “She may have loved you, she may have had a pure love for you once in different place, but circumstances have changed. People change. You’ll never win her back.”

  My blood courses through my veins, heavy and toxic as concrete. It takes everything in me not to strangle him.

  “I’m bringing her to the woods,” I assert. He can shove it up his ass if he doesn’t like it.

  “You’re a fool. There’s another girl for you, Wesley—it’s not Laken. I promise you this. Things will not end well if you refuse to heed my warning.” His eyes squint out a false smile. He’s reveling in my misery—tossing Flanders in my face so subtly he thinks I haven’t noticed.

  I lunge at him and grab onto his ears with both hands. I thrash his head over the edge of the pool with the zeal of a cage fighter. Blood trickles down his temple as a smooth line of crimson escapes his nose. Demetri rumbles out a dull laugh before disintegrating right between my fingers.

  He never dies.

  He always wins.

  Worst of all, he’s always right.

  I dip down under the water.

  He won’t be right this time. Laken and I will be together in the end even if I have to deal with Flanders myself.

  As if the day weren’t running on crap fumes already, I see Jones’s ugly mug staring back at me from my phone.

  Shit. The last person I want to speak to is Laken’s overprotective uncle.

  I pick up as I head into Henderson. All I really want is to get in the shower and hit the sheets—forget about the nightmare that happened earlier at the pool.

  “Yo,” I say, less than enthused to be chatting it up with Jones. Way to end this mindfuck of a day. Maybe I should call Laken after and see if she wants to hang out. She can kiss all of my emotional boo-boos and make me feel better. Just being with Laken—thinking of Laken, makes me feel better.

  “Rumor has it the Spectators are joining forces.” He quips into my ear while over annunciating his P’s and C’s. “Rival clans are banding together. We could have a real problem if you don’t act. Do you have your boy on it?”

  “Not yet.” I don’t fill him in on the fact I’m not too fond of my boy at the moment—that he might be trying to steal my girl. “I might take this one up on my own.”

  “You don’t say?” He chuckles into the phone.

  I shake my head as I hit the door to my room.

  “Well, it was nice knowing you, kid.” He breathes heavily into the receiver. “Look, what do I have to do to knock some sense into you?”

  I flick the lights on to find a very naked, and amply endowed, Kresley Fisher on my bed with a red velvet bow tied snug around her waist.

  “Shit,” I hiss into the phone. “Look, I gotta run. I’ve got a girl in my bed I’ve got to deal with.”

  “Laken?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Keep it that way.” The line goes dead as I toss my phone on my desk.

  “Aren’t you going to shut the door?” She purrs, stretching out her long, tanned legs. Kresley pushes her hips from side to side, slipping her thighs open just enough to let me see the promise land.

  “No need. You’re leaving.” I pull off my coat and shoes, plucking a fresh pair of boxers from my dresser before turning on the shower. “I said, leave.” It charges from me a little harsher than intended. A few guys poke their heads into the room and break out into a fit of laughter before heading down the hall.

  “You bastard.” Kres hustles her sweater back on. She jumps into her jeans with that stupid bow still hanging from her belly like some unwanted Christmas present. “What’s got your balls all twisted up in knots? Did you find out Laken did the walk of shame last night? And, let me guess—you weren’t the one unlucky enough to degrade her body all night long.” She gets in my face with her dark mane, wild and knotted up as if she were waiting for hours. “I bet it hurt like hell to have your heart ripped out while it was still beating. I should know—you did it to me.” She hawks a fresh one into my eye before bolting out of the room.

  Shit.

  I pull my shirt up and wipe the spit off my face. It’s not the first time she’s hurled a live one at me. The way she spits on a regular basis, you’d think she were part camel—part devil is more like it. I know better than to incite the witch that lives inside her, but she caught me on the wrong night.

  What the hell was she babbling about—walk of shame? I snag my phone and send Laken a text.

  Hey beautiful. I need you.

  All night long I wait for Laken to respond, but my phone lays silent.

  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.
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  “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 o
ver 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.”