Wicked

by Addison Moore

  “Call it an inkling.” Her head twitches. “Let me lay down some ground rules. Hands off, keep your legs to yourself. I’m sure there’s a nice steel bed with your name on it, and the Counts would love to have you fill it. Do you know what they do to Celestra like you? They milk you for blood. Rumor is, Pierce wants to have your baby. I hear the thought just kills your dear sweet friend Nat—so much so, she now has a vested interest in your capture, herself.”

  I swallow hard.

  “Would you like me to take care of Nat for you Skyla? I’d do anything for a friend.” Her dark eyes gleam at the thought. Chloe is a bubbling poison just waiting to spew out and cover the world in her toxin.

  “No. Never mind Nat.” The last thing I need is Chloe killing her and pinning me for Nat’s death. Chloe’s just that twisted, I can smell her insanity a mile away.

  “Brielle is having a party tomorrow night.” She washes over me with those warped lenses and takes up my hand. Gage and I are going as a couple. I suggest you do the same, but it won’t be with Ellis. She digs into me with a satisfied smile. I have another boyfriend in mind for you—our friend, the Sector. That’s right, I saw the two of you feasting on one another’s tongues. This eye you gave me? It really does see through walls. Besides, pissing off Michelle is one of my favorite pastimes. The bell rings, and she takes off.

  I have news for Chloe. I can’t wait to see how helpful that necklace will be while I carve my initials into her chest with the spirit sword tomorrow night.

  And I’ll be sure to bring my new boyfriend, Marshall.

  Once I’m through with her, he can take her straight to hell.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Baby You Can Drive My Car

  Gage insists that I keep my appointment at the DMV.

  Logan offers to drive me over in the Mustang. I run my fingers over the dry and cracking dashboard, fidget with the old school dials on the radio until I find a familiar song and let it bleed from of the speakers. I can’t wait to have this as my very own car.

  “What am I going to do about insurance?”

  “You have a job,” Logan says, pulling into the DMV.

  “Yeah, well, it’s not turning out to be so lucrative.”

  “I’ll front you the money. You can pay me back.”

  “Like a loan?”

  “Like a loan.”

  “Deal.” I should probably ask for terms or something, but I’m so excited to finally have my own car, I can’t wait.

  The fog lays thick over Paragon at this late hour in the afternoon. It seeps in through the opened door and cloaks Logan in mystery.

  I don’t really know what that vision of Marshall’s meant. If I didn’t already know I was marrying Gage I would have thought it was a wedding—our wedding—Logan and me.

  He wore his familiar smile, but I couldn’t really make anything else out. I walked a small eternity down a white aisle with what looked like flower petals at my feet.

  My heart races at the thought. Maybe I’m accidentally going to marry Logan? Or maybe we’ll be in a play? Or he’s the best man at my wedding with Gage? Or worse, I marry them both. Good God, I’m going to be a polygamist! We’ll have a reality show and twelve kids, and I’ll have to support us all by modeling online in the nude—only no one will want to see me in the nude after twelve kids, not even Logan or Gage.

  “You OK?” Logan shifts in his seat to get a better look at me.

  “Yeah, I’m OK,” I say, getting out of the car. Of course that was another lie. I’ve honed my skills on the art of lying.

  I slam the door and head into the DMV. Let’s see if I can hone my skills on the art of pretending to know how to drive.

  ***

  OK, so I shouldn’t be too surprised that I didn’t pass my drivers test. It was like the forces of nature showed up and practically rammed me off the road—what with the wall of fog and vat of rain, the bionic windstorm that came out of nowhere. And I honestly don’t remember that curve being there. All I have to say is thank you to the small tree that spared me from sailing down a steep embankment, which totally had instant death written all over it. Well, the administrator’s death, not mine. I probably would have been vegging out, quite literally, in a hospital room for the next fifty years.

  Logan drives me back to the Oliver’s home, and we hang out with Gage who’s convalescing on his bed, watching TV.

  I crawl up next to him and wrap my arms around his waist. He’s scrubbed clean and well rested, even though every now and again his chest rumbles with a tiny cough.

  “So Chloe decided who my next boyfriend will be,” I say plucking at a stray fiber on his shirt.

  “Me?” Logan asks with more curiosity than hope.

  “No, Dudley,” I say.

  An alarming silence hacks through the air.

  “No way.” There’s a fresh rage in Logan. “I can’t stand the thought of him touching you.”

  An image of Marshall sealing his lips over mine flashes through my mind.

  “It’s sort of a good thing,” I say as the two of them snap their necks in my direction. “I mean he’s faculty, right? It’s not like she expects me to be seen with him in public or anything. It has to be a secret relationship. This is never going to be a big deal.”

  Their expressions soften as they consider this.

  I let out a long drawn out breath.

  Something tells me it’s going to be a very, very, big freaking deal.

  ***

  Back at home, fast food bags clutter up the Landon kitchen, and this shocks me because the last thing my fake family believes in is fast food.

  “What’s up?” I ask plucking out a burger and fries.

  “Tad and I are leaving in the morning.” Mom blushes like a schoolgirl. “The workup is done over a two day period, so we won’t be back until sometime in the afternoon, Monday. Will you watch the house?” she asks, pulling out a stack of paper plates from the pantry.

  “Yes.”

  Tad balks as he makes his way over, still purple and bruised. I’m starting to wonder if being inseminated is her preference. Tad looks like a villain straight out of a comic book. And since we’re usually diabolically opposed, maybe I can be the super hero? Super Skyla? Sounds totally, meh. Maybe, medieval Messenger? Or how about the Angel of Annihilation? Speaking of names, I wonder how far Tad would jump out of his skin if I uttered the name, Ethan Landon. I guess I should ask someone far less volatile like Drake or Melissa.

  Drake wanders in and it’s not until he sits beside me at the bar that I notice Emily strutting in behind him.

  “Everyone—this is my new girlfriend,” he offers.

  My jaw goes slack. Instinctively, I want to knock Drake off the barstool for being such an ass to Brielle and simultaneously thrust a napkin at Emily and ask her to draw me a picture, but resist the urge.

  Mom and Tad wander over from the kitchen and stare at her like she’s a curiosity.

  “So you’re a cheerleader just like Skyla!” The way my mother squeals, you would think we were the only two cheerleaders on the planet.

  “Just like Brielle,” I shoot a look over to Drake.

  The air grows cold as Emily rolls her eyes to the ends of the earth.

  “You’ll have to excuse my stepdaughter,” Tad starts.

  I cut him off before he can fire off the zinger. “Yes, please excuse me,” I say, leaving the kitchen.

  I bump into Mia in the hall.

  “I don’t see your car parked out front.” She sets her foot out in defiance.

  “I failed the test. But it’s not like I didn’t try.”

  “Fine.” She shrugs. “Just have your boyfriend drop me off on my date tomorrow night.”

  “No, Gage is not playing taxi.” Unless you’re Chloe. “Besides, you should invite him over here, and you guys can watch a movie or something.” And I can totally keep an eye on this creep.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re the best sister e
ver.” She bites down on her lip. “But you know who won’t think so? Melissa. She’ll be all alone and bored out of her skin. I think I’ll invite a few friends to keep her company.”

  “Mia, no.” I zero in on that mischievous look in her eye, and I am acutely aware of the fact she means more than a couple of friends.

  “You can’t tell me no.” She plucks the phone from her pocket and waves it in my face. An image of me kissing Marshall burns on the screen. “Just give me one good reason, and I’ll email this to everyone at West. I have the entire student directory downloaded and ready to go.”

  I’ve never hit Mia, but I have the sudden intense desire to insanely beat the shit out of her.

  “Just a few friends,” I hiss, making my way past her.

  She’s so damn wicked it makes me wonder if Holden already has a body.

  Chapter Fifty

  Falling in Line

  From across street, in the thick of night, the house looks docile—almost fragile. But I can hear and feel the faint sound of bass trembling beneath me while rows and rows of cars are parked haywire all up and down our street.

  Clearly this is a recipe for a boisterous, balls out, call the cops because things are getting out of hand, wild disaster of a party. The air is rife with rampant teenage hormones of both the middle and high school variety. The cars aren’t all here for the party at my house, it’s the West slash East, it’s almost winter break bash Brielle is throwing that has them coming by the dozens.

  Not to be outdone by the party queen next door, Mia’s get together actually has enough people to outfit a small nation. It wouldn’t surprise me if the entire lot of us dropped into Paragon’s infamous underworld from the sheer weight of hundreds of jostling bodies. My mind strays to the rooms in the Transfer that house Counts in liquid Drano. I wonder if Brielle knows about them?

  “So you think there’s still a chance?” Brielle hiccups into me.

  I can’t believe I’m comforting a Count—a knocked up Count no less, while Drake is in there pawing all over Emily.

  “You can have anyone,” I tell her. Brielle’s mother is out at a conference, so she decided to have a few friends over. Funny how she and Mia classify a ‘few friends’ in the same manner, must be a Count thing.

  “I don’t want just anyone.”

  “Look, he’s still into you. He just thinks you’ve lost it and are threatening him with a fake pregnancy.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. He hates puking, and when you kept hurling, he was afraid you were going to get him sick. It’s not that he doesn’t want you, he just doesn’t want the stomach flu.” I think.

  “Really?” Tears gloss down her cheeks. “I totally know how to fix this. Thanks.” She pushes in a wet kiss on the side of my face before taking off across the street.

  A pair of headlights wink in my direction before parking high on the ridge.

  Marshall gets out and struts on over. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt pulled over a thermal. He looks hot and young, and oh freaking shit.

  “No.” I hold up a hand.

  “I received a note stating you wanted to take our relationship public. Interesting venue.” He glances over at Brielle’s house.

  “You know that note wasn’t from me.”

  “Yes, but your name was attached to it, so I thought I’d swing by and appease the one who sent it. Come,” he presses into my lower back as we make our way up the driveway.

  A few guys in Ellis’ stoner circle call out to him. He’s like a rock star in this environment as we walk into a masculine choir of Dudley.

  With Marshall glued to my side, we immediately garner the attention of, well, everyone as we enter the house. Logan is talking to Chloe in the corner as Gage comes back with drinks for the two of them. They all stare disbelieving. Gage glowers at us his with dark brows crouched over those electric blue eyes like a bat in flight.

  I duck into the hall in an effort to ditch Marshall and run smack into Nat and Pierce.

  Shit.

  Her eyes have healed, and her skin looks even toned for the first time in days. Her hair’s all wiry and locked in a kinky mess of curls that, in this dim light, actually gives her that Medusa effect.

  I spin on my heels and land face first in Marshall’s chest. I yank him along until we bypass Nat and her bloodsucking boyfriend and land in the cool night air right out back.

  “You’d rather we be alone. I like where this is going,” he growls pulling me in.

  “No,” I say, pushing back. “You have to help me.”

  “Why?” His eyes light up like copper kettles.

  “You need me to fight a war. It’s the least you can do, you owe me.”

  “Do tell.” His features soften.

  “First, a body for Holden. I don’t like the thought of him leering at me all night long. Plus, I’m a tiny bit afraid of him. Second, deal with Natalie and Pierce. They’re really starting to piss me off. Maybe humiliate them in the worst possible way.” I close my eyes briefly. “And would you please get rid of Chloe? I’m sorry I ever thought she was a good idea. She won’t let me near my boyfriend, and that’s just…” I grapple for words, “wrong.”

  “Drama.” His chest gives way to a sigh. “For your information, I don’t owe you anything. In fact you’ve yet to thank me for hauling both you and your supposed boyfriend out of the Transfer.”

  “You did that?” I marvel.

  “Yes, I did that.” His cheek slides up one side.

  “So it is called the Transfer. How did we get there in the first place?”

  “I don’t know,” his lips twist when he says it while holding back a smile.

  “You must have been there. Hey, are you watching me?” I blink into the realization.

  “Am I watching you, or am I watching the Transfer?”

  The moon casts a scant shadow down over the yard. It bleeds through the forest just beyond the property and dapples us in rich buttery light.

  “So are you going to put an end to all these mysteries?” I ask dipping into him.

  “Like?”

  “Like what the Transfer is, why you need me to help fight the Fems, when I’ll get to meet my mother?”

  “Too deep. Let’s get back to the task at hand. Holden gets a body, Natalie and Pierce suffer abject humiliation, and Chloe,” he pauses, “nothing I can do about that one. You’ve made your bed, Skyla.”

  “You could humiliate Chloe.” Everything feels hopeless. “What about the spirit sword?”

  “You can’t kill her, but you could try, the results might be amusing.”

  “I’ll settle for whatever you can do.”

  “Very well.” He takes in a breath. “I’ll filter through your wish list, but you’ll have to do something for me in exchange.”

  “And I want Nevermore.”

  He raises a brow as if to affirm this.

  “Well then,” I lick my lips. “I’ll do just about anything.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Anything Goes

  The windows shake in time to music turned up far too loud, booming out of crap speakers that replicate to perfection the sound of crumpling paper.

  It’s electrifying stepping into the crowd. I scan the room for signs of Chloe and Gage. A nagging feeling that things are about to go brilliantly wrong grazes along my nerves.

  “Come on, Holden,” I whisper. “Come out and play one last time. It’s your chance to be the life of the party—make it memorable like only you can.”

  It’s not that I need Holden’s assistance in what I’m about to do. It’s not that Marshall has asked me to do anything I’ve never done before—hauling Michelle into a the crowd and having a cat fight over him—ditching the scene with him to prove a point—an open mouthed kiss as payment, but it’s Gage whose heart I’m eager to protect. Hopefully Holden will create enough havoc that I won’t have to.

  I see Gage over by the window. His steel cut gaze bores through me with heart stopping intensity. His lips
curve and ignite a smile that almost waylays me into forgetting my mission.

  I scan the room for Michelle, her awkward haircut, that dim rose of hopelessness she wears around her neck.

  Brielle catches my eye near the door, her hands wrapped securely around a dark figure, and she’s laughing, dipping her head back as he nips at her ear. He turns just enough for his face to get caught in a narrow strip of light.

  Drake?

  They’re back together! I’m completely caught off guard. Just seeing them in the same proximity brims me to the limit with hope for me and Gage. Love prospers. It doesn’t dissipate under duress, it grows, affirms itself in ways we could never imagine. There’s nothing Chloe can do to keep us apart.

  “Hard right,” Marshall whispers just before heading out the door. He wants his hands clean, and I can’t say I blame him.

  “Body—body, body, body, body, body, body,” I whisper like an incantation on my way over to Michelle. I’m secretly hoping the Holden show will take over. I’m not really in the mood to kick some Miller ass at the moment, especially not while declaring my love for Marshall.

  I step in next to Emily and Michelle.

  “So what’s going on?” I say rather unexpectedly, but neither Michelle, nor Emily seem to notice me. “Hey, where’s Lexy?” She has this thing for Logan, and even though I don’t want him, I’m not exactly optioning him out to other people.