“Um, did I say anything? Did I mention anything I might be doing back there?”
“I don’t know,” he shakes his head, “you said you were going to show him the secret at the base of Devil’s Peak.”
“How’d you get back to the dance?” I ask, full with suspicion.
“You brought me back. You said Gage would be fine, that we could get him later.”
A dry laugh gets caught in my throat.
“Thanks Ellis,” I pat him on the back.
Marshall thinks he’s so damn funny. Wait until I drag him by the balls all the way back to the Transfer.
***
To my surprise, Marshall gladly leaves a disgruntled Logan and heads back to the Transfer with me. Apparently, there’s a Fem out there who obediently dons my face at Marshall’s bidding. I can’t believe she or it would be so convincing that even Gage could be fooled.
It turns out Gage has won himself a room at the estate.
The pristine mansion sits high on the ridge in all of its haunted house glory, complete with black wrought iron fence that knifes mercilessly into the lavender sky. A mass of gossamer slinks in the corner of the doorway, thick as fishnet.
God forbid, this is the hotel room that Gage foresaw us copulating in for the first time. It’s dank inside, gone is the pleasant scent of apples, replaced with the much more rancid and oppressive scent of mildew. Marshall leads me to the same breathing door and spins the knob until it spontaneously opens.
It’s my old room—nice to know it maintains its creepy ambiance with or without my presence. The dark hall is lined in navy velvet. Pictures of ghastly people hang disjointed on the wall as if to testify to the insanity of the structure.
“I’m invisible—he can’t hear me,” Marshall informs.
The distinct sound of giggling emits from the living room, and, sure enough, Gage is sitting there, along with some girl.
Shit. The Fem version of me is still here. He’s probably already married and had sex with her, she was the one he was having those visions of all along. What if my entire future, as predicated by Gage, was based on nothing more than a misunderstanding?
“Gage?”
He turns to face me before springing to his feet.
“I’m so sorry! Are you OK?” I press a heated kiss on him that momentarily makes me forget we’re standing in the unholy armpit of the Transfer and that the possibility of him having rutted with my lookalike was still looming overhead.
“I’m so sorry,” Marshall mocks me from behind.
“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. And, yes, I’m OK.” Gage touches the tip of his nose to mine. “I’m more concerned with what happened to you. Did he touch you?” Gage flexes his eyes over me quickly as if inspecting for signs of damage.
“No,” I can’t even look at him. Someone far worse touched me. It would kill Gage if he found out. It might even send him to Chloe’s arms for real this time.
“Excuse me?” A female voice pipes up from behind him, and I’m almost afraid to look, but I do.
“Giselle!” Sisters are the best type of females to leave your boyfriend with.
“Hi Skyla,” she says, before giving a flirtatious wave toward Marshall. I bite my lip and turn around to look at him accusingly.
Marshall turns with a guilty expression. As much as Gage hates him, I think Marshall and his sister have a definite spark. But, then again, Marshall can ignite a spark in just about anyone.
“You know, I was thinking,” Giselle looks around nervously, “you think I could come around sometime and hang out with the family?” Her eyes are heavy with concern as if she were truly asking for permission.
“Yes! I’m sure your parents would love that!”
“I know they would,” Gage pulls her in with his free arm and hugs her goodbye.
“Maybe I can see about getting you a—”
Marshall cuts me off, “No.”
“I’m OK with my present state of being,” she says. “I mean, you know, as long as I’m not discriminated against for being flesh deficient. I can totally handle my life this way.”
“We can get together tomorrow,” Gage offers.
“Perfect. I’ll stop by the house in the evening.” She steps back and begins to deteriorate.
“What kind of food do you like?” Gage calls out.
“I can’t eat,” and with that she disappears.
“Bummer,” I whisper.
The screaming starts in the corridors—the sound of cryptic piano playing permeates through the walls.
“Let’s get out of here,” my voice quivers.
“Yes, my schedule is rather full this evening.” Marshall places a hand on both our shoulders. “I have recompense to tend to.”
Chapter Seventy-Five
The Switch
I’d like to think that the chaos that has taken over the winter formal was some strange phenomenon that we brought back from the Transfer, or even that this was just your run of the mill teenage super bash that was getting way the hell out of control. But, the truth is, once we land back in the ballroom, in the midst of a sea of bodies, and as soon as I see the chandeliers up above start to sway, I know full well that Holden’s latest and greatest fleshly disaster is long over.
“Excuse me, Love. I’m afraid it’s time the pretty Oliver receives his due.” Marshall’s features sharpen as he pulls the spirit sword from underneath his jacket, illuminating it discretely against his arm.
Light bulbs explode overhead one by one like some ghostly rendition of the Fourth of July.
“No,” I shout up at Marshall. “Anything but this.” There’s no way I can stand by and watch him kill Logan.
“Have it your way. I’ll execute my delivery another hour, another way.” The sword replaces its glow with the look of dull metal as Marshall tucks it back into his coat. “Ms. Messenger,” he brushes past me into the crowd.
The lights continue to burst in quick succession, causing tiny shards of glass to fall like hail. The exits congest as bodies collapse upon one another in a bid to escape. The room darkens with the exception of the votive candles dancing on the tables. Cell phones ignite across the expanse until the backup lights come on, just a shade lighter than the candles.
I look back in the direction Marshall was headed. I don’t see any sign of him. No sign of Logan either.
***
Gage and I finally make our way out into the parking lot where the rest of the student body has amassed.
My cell goes off. It’s a text from Mom.
It was touch and go. We lost him for a minute, but he’s back! He’s recovering rapidly. It’s unbelievable.
I can believe it. I can believe just about anything.
“Holden’s gone,” I say.
“But is he out of our lives?” Gage digs a smile into his cheek, and it makes me want to run and hide in his dimple.
“Probably not,” I say, shaking the glass out of my hair. “While you were in the Transfer, I couldn’t help but think you might have accidentally got it on with the fake me.”
“I swear as soon as we hit Devil’s Peak, I knew it wasn’t you. She had this cold look in her eyes just like that day you disappeared.” He winces. “No offense, but I might need to kiss you before I go anywhere with you again.” He pulls me in, brushing my lips with his.
I look up at him with the harsh light of the parking lot showering over his person. Gage is flawless. I can hardly stand to be near him, tainted in this dress of Marshall’s.
“I’m not sure I want you accidentally kissing a Fem,” I say. “What if it were Ezrina disguised as me, and you fell madly in love?” I pull my head back, and he peppers my neck with kisses. Truth is, I feel really bad for Ezrina, and the rotten sentence the justice alliance handed down to her and poor Nev.
“I can never love Ezrina like I love you. Unless, of course, she’s a great kisser,” he teases.
“Let’s hope you never find out.” I press in a warm series of kisses. “Wha
t kind of kisser am I?”
“The kind that keeps me up all night wanting more.”
A bullhorn goes off. A nebulous voice apologizes for the unfortunate power outage that disrupted the dance, then asks us to leave the premises.
Bodies switch back and forth in every direction as talk of heading over to the bowling alley filters through the parking lot.
“You think the bowling alley is ready for the onslaught?” I pull Gage in tight by the waist.
“I think Logan will welcome the business. Where is he anyway?”
“He’s pissed off at Marshall. He probably took off.”
“We should do the same,” Gage gives a naughty smile. I think we’ve ditched the subject of Logan and Marshall for now. “Let’s start a party of our own.”
***
I tell Gage I need to do a quick change and that I’d meet him back at the bowling alley. Instead, I drive myself to Marshall’s to do the unthinkable. Tonight is the last night I’ll be kissing Logan, and the last night I’ll be kissing Marshall. Logan’s kisses may not have benefited me but Marshall’s will. I’m done with Chloe and her threats. The season of her wicked reign has come and gone. I’m reclaiming my life and my relationship with Gage. I may be Marshall’s for less than a night, but Gage will be mine for a lifetime.
I let myself in, not bothering to acknowledge his overtly friendly, yet mocking, hello, and head straight upstairs. I take off the ten thousand pound dress, before strutting back into the living room with my bra, underwear, overgrown angel wings, and four-inch stacked heels. Really, I’d just like to take them off, but I think it adds to the effect, plus they can double as weapons.
“Skyla.” Marshall looks up at me from the couch. He drops the remote, far more intrigued with the entertainment in front of him.
“Marshall,” I let his name trickle off my tongue as I round out the stairwell. In theory, this is exactly what I should be doing to right all the wrongs in my life. In theory, people do this every day for a whole lot less. “Tell me about that enchanted dress.” Really I’d just love conformation that it possessed me into almost doing the unthinkable with Logan and not confirm my suspicions that I have absolutely no control over my feelings for him.
“The dress?” Marshall jumps up, and the room ignites with lightning. “Should you have obeyed my words you wouldn’t be wearing that look of trepidation. You would be swooning. Delivering yourself to me rather than circling furniture. However, you do need a kernel of interest or its efforts are null and void. And you do have more than a kernel of interest where I’m concerned, you affirm it each time you’re in my presence.”
I exhale, exasperated at the thought.
“So,” I say, pulling an arm up over the couch seductively, “tell me how you punished Logan.” I’m dying to know what happened. Maybe he’s in the Transfer? Only I wouldn’t make such a stink about rescuing him. I think a celestial time out might do him some good.
“My aren’t we quizzical? I’ve yet to administer justice,” he purrs.
Marshall and I engage in a game of cat and mouse as we twirl around the sofa, the table—the piano. I’m not entirely sure who’s running away from who, but if the fact my heart is about to give out in fear, counts for anything, I’d probably guess it was me.
“Now, now, you’ve already committed,” his lips curve, a malevolent gesture all their own. Marshall is at his best when he’s about to get his way.
“Yes, I did—just like you’ve committed to extracting Chloe from my relationship with Gage. I already know I’ll win the faction war with you by my side.” I give a sly wink. I plan on building up his ego so far it explodes to the four corners of the room.
“I’ll make it easy on you,” Marshall morphs ten years his junior. This is how I remember him from our first meeting, when he introduced himself to me by way of his mouth.
Then something in me reverts, and I wake up as though I had just come to from some long horrible nightmare.
Holy crap.
I’m standing in my math teacher’s living room with nothing but my underwear and a pair of wings, and might I add, feeling anything but angelic. I pluck off my heels in haste and hold them out in defense.
Marshall leans in like a lion about to pounce. “Now, this, intrigues me on a whole new level.” He darts one way, sending me in the opposite direction.
“No!” I shout as he comes near me. “I’m sorry, I can’t actually go through with this.” I hold my hand out in an effort to stave him off.
“Let’s see if I can’t change your mind.”
He presses in with a kiss infused with passion.
A vision appears. I’m lost in a crowd. A sea of people with no faces, just the hands of a clock, numbers that I can’t read—Logan’s there. He asks me to follow him, take him places.
The door bursts open, the icy night air sears my bare skin, but Marshall doesn’t relent.
He presses in further and deeper, showing just one more. It’s Gage. He wears a look of horror. He’s bleached white, frozen like a statue, and this terrifies me.
“Skyla!” Logan wraps an arm around my waist and physically plucks me free.
He takes off after Marshall, pounding him relentlessly into the creamy white mortar of the fireplace.
Marshall gives a powerful shove, knocking Logan off his feet.
“I should rip you to pieces and feed you to the wolves,” Marshall seethes. A spontaneous blaze roars to life in the enormous fireplace, licks the air with its hungry tongues. The front doors slam shut with violent force, loud as a gunshot. “I will have my way with you—under my terms, in the hour of my choosing,” he hisses. “Shore up your affairs young Oliver. The scales of justice have been weighed, and you have been found wanting.”
Logan staggers up and bypasses Marshall on his way to the fireplace.
“I believe this belongs to Skyla.” Logan snatches one of the spirit swords from above the mantle.
“Out!” The word explodes from Marshall. The windows rattle with his deafening boom.
Logan bolts over and picks me up. He speeds us out into the driveway, pausing just shy of the Mustang and lands me on my feet.
“The keys?” Logan runs his eyes over me, clad in my underwear.
“The keys are in the car,” I say, snatching off the angel wings and discarding them.
“You may not want to get into that habit,” Logan’s face brightens to a smile, his chest still heaving from the sprint. “Skyla, I love you more than the heavens love the sun and the moon,” he whispers out of breath, and offers a soft tender kiss. A memory darts through my mind of a dream I once had long before I knew of Logan. He whispered those exact words to me—same ones that Marshall showed me in the vision.
The scar I gave him down the side of his cheek curves into a lateral smile. He picks up my hands. About Chloe’s secret...
Tell me. I give a squeeze in anticipation. My expression sours as I remember the harsh reprimand I had my mother impose. “Tell me,” it comes out soft, ashamed.
The Counts will know if I betray them. I can only lead you in the right direction.
“OK, we’ll make a game out of it.”
Ethan Landon wasn’t himself.
“No, he was Holden. But Holden is dead now, and the real Ethan has come back to stay.”
His eyes widen as he pushes out a smile. Chloe won’t like that.
“Did Chloe know Ethan?”
How well does the grim reaper know his victims?
“Chloe is the grim reaper? Chloe killed Ethan?”
He gives a quick nod.
“Did Chloe lure him to Paragon?”
Logan pushes out a bleak smile.
“She did that to bring Tad and Mom to Paragon and, most likely, me. But how?” I stop the thought midflight. “Tad said something about Ethan saying strange things in a conversation—he believed people were after him. He was right, and I’m betting the people in question were Demetri and Chloe. He must have mentioned Paragon, and that’
s why Tad hauled us here. Maybe that’s how she got us to the island. And what was your role?”
My uncle runs the morgue. If anyone knows how to dispose of a body, it’s me.
“Only the Counts ended up taking him.”
Logan presses out a smile as though he were proud of me.
“So, what can I do with this?” I finally have all the ammo I need against Chloe and have no real way of utilizing it. “I know for a fact she poisoned Emerson, but I don’t know how to pin her with anything.” For that matter, she knows I killed Holden.
“She’s at the bowling alley. Get her into the kitchen alone, and I’ll take care of the rest. I promise, after tonight, she won’t stand in the way of your relationship with anyone.” He stares off in the distance a moment. “I really do love you, Skyla,” he pauses. “There was no way I would have ever let Marshall touch you like that. I’m just sorry I didn’t come sooner.”
“Thank you.” A hard shiver runs through me. “I care about you, too.”
“I know,” he opens the door to the Mustang for me. “Oh, and, Skyla?”
“Yes?”
“Things are going to get a little wild tonight. I’m going to need you to trust me.”
I give a hard stare. Logan is stone serious to the point it frightens me.
“I will. I just hope, for your sake, there’s no cult gathering involved. I let you off the hook once. I don’t think I have it in me to do it again, even if it is for my own good.”
He raises his brows.
Doesn’t say a word.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Mystery Kiss
I pull back on the sweater and jeans that I began this long night in before attempting to hunt down Gage at the bowling alley.
The parking lot is full. Cars are parked in total chaos throughout the dirt lot next door and all the way down the street. Four limos sit lining the front of the building. I’m pretty sure that’s a sight I’ll never see again.
I step inside to a dim lit room with a rainbow of neon decorating the lanes. I love bowling in the dark.
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