Marshall holds a finger in the air as if it were a barometer. “Something sinister is afoot. Since the closing of those tunnels this world has been in the throes of birth pains.”
Dudley is right. “I could have told both Skyla and Laken that the Counts wouldn’t shut down the tunnels unless they had something far worse mapped out.”
“But Skyla didn’t ask you, did she?” Chloe muses, kicking her heels against the metal cabinet below until the steady drumming echoes through the room. “That’s the beauty of Skyla, you can always count on her to go off half-cocked.” She gives a private smile.
“I think the Counts are dead in the water,” I say, trying to peer over Ezrina’s shoulder as she swills a florescent liquid in a beaker. “I really don’t think this Barricade bullshit is going to work out for you.”
“The Counts don’t lie down and play dead. That’s just you, Logan.”
Dudley enjoys a little laugh while taking the beaker from Ezrina and sniffing it.
“How is the serum coming along, Ms. Bishop?” he asks. And now it’s me laughing at him. Does he really think Chloe is here to spill all of Wesley’s deep, dark secrets?
“Wesley doesn’t seem to think it will last longer than a month.” Chloe sighs as if she were disappointed in the shortcoming.
“It won’t,” Ezrina assures.
“It’s been a part of his plan all along.” Dudley toasts Chloe with the beaker before taking swig of the pink concoction. “Too bitter.” He dumps the contents into the sink. “How else would Wesley remain in control? He must take away their ability to topple him. They’ll need him every day he’s alive. A short supply of serum is just the way to do it. It’s safe to say he’s the brains of the disorganization. Jock Strap is simply Demetri’s genetic trophy that’s miraculously bonded to Skyla.”
“What about me?” Chloe balks. “What about my child? I should be guaranteed a lifetime supply of this ridiculous serum. I’m the one who’s going to gift Demetri his precious dominion, not Skyla.”
Marshall tilts in. “I’d stay on his good side if I were you.”
Chloe jumps down and pulls her brother to his feet. “Come on, Brody. There’s someone in the Transfer who knows his way around a petri-dish.” She snatches Ezrina’s prized bed warmer from off the wall as she leaves the room. “I’ll make good use of this.”
Ezrina snatches a hatchet off the counter ready to reclaim her treasure.
Marshall shakes his head with boredom. “Let her steal it, Rina. No one knows how to handle a thief better than we do.”
Nevermore walks in with a bag of food from the Mexican restaurant down the street.
“Did I miss anything?”
Ezrina scuttles over and touches her lips to his. It’s still a bit strange to see Chloe and Pierce together.
“Great news,” she beams. “I’ve discovered something.”
“It always cheers her up when she gleans a bit of knowledge.” Nev wraps his arm around her. “What is it you discovered, my love?”
“Boiling the Dolomites creates a concentrated serum that can make uncountable batches of the elixir.”
Dudley and I exchange looks.
“So the Barricade is good to go?” I’m shocked Ezrina found anything good about that news.
“Heaven’s yes.” She clutches onto Nev’s shoulders as if bracing him. “I’m afraid young Wesley has an infinite supply. The Nephilim has much to fear.”
“Perfect.” I glance to Dudley. “What are you thinking?”
Dudley walks to the safe and spins the combination lock until the door opens with a yawn.
“Arm yourself.” He hands me a bastardized Ruger much like the one I shot my nephew with. Good times. The truth is, the darts have always been debilitating. The odds of death are slim to none, but I liked romanticizing the idea that the odds were a little better. Coop mentioned they were fifty-fifty.
“What’s this for?”
“We’re headed to Host.” Dudley spins the weapon in his hand. “Ezrina, consider yourself on standby should we need your services. Heathcliff, find that flappy bird and send him to work. I have a feeling Skyla will need his services.”
I pull out my phone to text her, and Marshall snaps it out of my hand.
“Haven’t you learned by now that warning her of imminent danger only increases its appeal?” The veins in his neck bulge. “She feels a responsibility to shoulder the vulnerability of her people.” He cocks a gun and squints into the chamber. “I should have disposed of Jock Strap when I had the opportunity.”
“There’s always tomorrow.” Ezrina sheds a thin line of a smile.
“Nobody is killing Gage.” As much as I’d like to, and I would, it’s not happening on my watch.
“Unfortunately, that’s not on the agenda for today.” Dudley tosses me a weapon. “Shoot on sight.”
“Who are we shooting?”
“Skyla.”
10
Paper Dragon
Skyla
I should have known any day that starts off with a demonic-inspired picture from Emily would continue in a crappy trajectory.
Laken and Coop seem slightly edgy this afternoon. They’re both in my biology class. It’s actually lab day, and the tedious exercise of dissecting a cat has ceased for the afternoon—a cat as in a furry feline creature that the world over has domesticated and trapped in their home. I’m not sure what genius decided a cat would be a great way to explore human anatomy rather than your traditional frog, but I suppose the amphibian society wholeheartedly approves. Coop volunteers to put Fluffy away for me. I thought it was a good idea to name her before I sliced and diced her guts up. It seemed respectful in a morbid Ezrina sort of way.
“The smell of formaldehyde is really starting to get to me.” I plunge my face in my shoulder and take a deep breath. I’d rather inhale vats of body odor than the plastic, harsh chemical scent.
“We’re all finished up in here. Let’s go outside.” Laken hands me my book bag, and we head out into the flurry that’s taking over Host. Dark, full-bellied clouds race across the sky at an accelerated pace. My eye hooks on Omen from a distance. His body writhes like a serpent under the shadows of the clouds. His ruby glass eyes reflect the coal sky, boiling with anger, raging with a promise to destroy us just as efficiently as the gale that’s come upon us.
“What’s the deal with the weather around here?” Laken shudders.” There are three other seasons you know.”
“Not in this fool’s paradise.” I wrap my coat around me tight. “So what’s up with you and Coop?”
She swallows hard, casting a quick glance back into the room. “He’s asking questions about the release of the captives. He’s figured out the tunnels are closed.” She shrugs. “I may have alluded to it. He asked if I played a role.” Her eyes are set in the distance. You can see the pain in her heart, clear as the brewing storm, and my anger toward Wesley increases. He did this. He put her in this position just hoping to cause discord between her and Coop. Judging by the look on her face, he succeeded.
“Talking about the captives?” Coop comes up from behind, and we both clam up. “This was sitting on your desk.” He hands me the water bottle I left behind.
“Thanks. I’ve been so wiped out lately. I think I need something stronger. You guys up for coffee?”
Coop grimaces the exact way Logan does when he’s about to get in over his head. His worm-infested body flashes through my mind. Logan was decimated no thanks to Wesley and his thirst to rid the planet of his own people. We may not all be in the Barricade, but you’d think Wes has a shred of solidarity in him. Of course, the true blame regarding Logan’s body belongs with Gage.
“Actually”—Coop bears into Laken with sorrow as deep as the ocean—“I’d like to speak with her alone, if you don’t mind.”
I have a feeling the tunnels are about to be excavated in a whole new light. The last thing I want to do is witness a huge blowout between the two of them.
“Nope, don
’t mind at all.” I voluntarily begin to trot off before I land myself in the middle of an argument.
“Wait.” Laken pulls me back. “Skyla was with me. I want her here.”
“You were with her?” Coop’s chest expands as he bounces in his sneakers. I’d swear he’s about to tackle me. “You know what Wes is capable of, and you know how desperately Laken wanted those tunnels shut down. That was a perfect storm for him to take advantage of her.” His face bleaches to chalk. “Oh, God.” His head swivels to Laken. “Did he take advantage of you?”
Her mouth opens, and a thick white plume emerges—no words, just a rather guilty admission by way of fog-riddled silence.
Crap. Tension swarms around the two of them, suffocating as smoke.
“What does it matter?” She frees her elbow from him. “The tunnels are closed. What happened to our families will never happen to another human soul again.” Tears come as she leans into him. “Coop—I’m a small sacrifice.” Her hand rises to his cheek. “My heart is yours forever. Nothing or no one can ever change that—not even Wesley. I’m sorry for what I did, but I swear to you it was nothing more than a sacrifice on my part. It was a task. A duty—nothing more than a job.” She turns her head into her shoulder before bolting toward the dorms.
“Laken!” Coops shouts after her. “Skyla.” He pulls me in, desperate, his hurt already mirroring Laken’s. “Tell me what he did, or I’m going to assume the worst. I just want to know. I’m not angry. I know she was vulnerable, and that fucking asshole decided to use it to his advantage. He didn’t shut down those tunnels for Laken. I know, Wes. For whatever reason, he was able to get her to feed into something he needed to do anyway.”
Oh shit. I blink stunned. It all makes sense. Wes needed to create a worldwide frenzy. What better way than to return thousands to the point of their capture?
“It was a kiss,” I whisper, dropping my forehead into my palm. “It was a stupid kiss.” Coop takes off after Laken, and I stagger toward the woods.
Gage, Laken, and myself, we all fed into Wesley’s sick hands. This was just a game, and we were his favorite pawns.
A horrible growl emits from above. I need to see my mother. I need Marshall to take me there at once.
I pluck out my phone to text him just as a flicker of lightning touches down in the woods. I glance up distracted as an entire herd of runners brush past me, and my phone goes flying.
“No, no, no!” I watch helpless as shoe after shoe stomps down on it. Then, for good measure, a skateboard runs over my newly cracked screen. Just crap.
A strange noise emits from the woods, and I take a few steps closer to the dew filled lawn.
Is that—barking?
In the distance a dark shadow sits low to the ground, stirring the fog into an otherworldly frenzy. The riotous noise intensifies as I make my way closer—barking for sure. The shadow sways and twitches as I come in and—holy shit. There he is with his black fur, his muscular build, his three rabid heads—Cerberus. He snarls and snaps as I draw near before carefully heading deep into the woods.
“I’ll bite,” I whisper, treading in slowly after him.
“Demetri?” I call out, and his name comes back to me in an echo.
“Try again, bitch.”
I spin to find Chloe holding something above my head that loosely resembles a frying pan.
A hard knock comes down over me—a sharp, wild pain radiates through my bones as the world fades to black.
My eyes feel as though they’ve been glued shut. A horrible drilling sound goes off in my head. I’m dizzy. So freaking dizzy.
I give a few hard blinks trying to register the world around me. A spear of pain shoots through my skull. I try to get up, but my arms, my legs won’t move, heavy as sand. My lids fly open to find my limbs fettered, my hands tied at the wrists, my feet bound at the ankles. I’m naked. I blink down at my shivering body. No wait—I’m still safely tucked in my bra and boy shorts, better than naked I suppose but equally as alarming. I glance around to find my body secured to a round, steel harness.
“Gage?” I’m not sure why his name flew from my lips. Perhaps it’s because I recognize the steely cold room I’m in as Ezrina’s old stomping grounds.
“Really, Skyla?” Chloe busies herself by penetrating a needle into a pouch and filling it with a dark crimson fluid. “Do I have to hit you over the head again to get you to acknowledge me?”
I groan. “I should have figured you would have morphed into your true form only to lure me into the woods. And here I thought Cerberus was male the entire time.”
“You should know better than to run into the forest like that. I would have thought you were a brighter student. You just failed Horror Movie 101, Skyla.” She clicks her tongue.
“What’s up?” Brody nods from across the room. He’s propped up in a recliner. His face looks pale and sickly.
Chloe flicks her finger at that syringe she’s playing with. “I’m going to infuse him with your blood, Skyla. And then you had better pray that he revives his angelic powers, or I’ll be forced to do horrible, horrible things to you.”
“Do you even know his blood type? You can’t just inject someone with blood, Chloe. Did you fail chemistry? Oh wait, you’re not allowed at Host, are you?” Technically he needs to drink it, but I’m not helping her out with the obvious.
“She’s right.” Brody moans. “I think that’s why I feel like shit. You’re killing me, Chloe.”
“You won’t be her fist victim.” I struggle to free myself from the harness.
Her eyes widen. You can see Chloe’s chest rise and fall with the fear of losing her brother. Who knew that dark, charred heart of hers could warm for another person? Gage being the only real exception.
“No.” She speeds over and shakes him as his head wobbles on a swivel.
“His kidneys are probably shutting down. He’s going into shock. Untie me, Chloe. I’ll help get him out of here.” I would, too. Brody is worth saving, unlike his ungrateful sister.
A shriek emits from her throat so loud and terrifying the hair on my body stands on end. Holy shit. I’ve dreamed of witnessing a full throttle Bishop breakdown for some time now, but somehow with me tied up on this bed of perversion— The vision! This is it. The horrific steel bed I’m bound to is the exact one Emily happily whipped up on paper this morning. I glance down at my body contorted every which way, my arms splayed out, my legs spread wide. God this means something—something bigger than Chloe…
Her sobbing turns to laugher. “I’ve got it,” she mutters. “Don’t worry, Brody. I have a plan that will make you ten times stronger than you ever were before.” Chloe snatches a tool off the metal tray beside me and examines it in the light. A scalpel. Of course, it’s a scalpel. Chloe and I have a long history with sharp objects.
“How is it you cut me again?” A dark smile plays on her lips. “Was it this way?” Chloe slices a clean line up my left arm, right into the soft underbelly where my skin is white as snow. My flesh parts as the sharp sting of the scalpel runs its course as far as she can take it. Blood drips over my arm like a crimson curtain as Chloe dashes to the other side and inflicts a fresh wound.
“Chloe.” I moan as the urge to vomit hits me hard. “Please, don’t.” A horrible dizzying sensation grips me as she quickens her movements and slices up my thighs, my legs, the bottom of my feet.
A shrill cry escapes me, louder, far more bloodcurdling than Chloe had just a few minutes before.
Brody hoists himself up. “Chloe don’t.” He holds his hand out and falls flat on his face. “Shit.”
“See what you’ve done?” She stomps over and slaps me hard with the metal tool. It’s not until blood fills my left eye do I realize she’s cut my face as well. “He can’t die, Skyla.” She races to the refrigeration until and pulls out a large gray bin. “He has to live. He’s the only person on earth who truly loves me. I need him, Skyla. Have you ever needed someone so much you can’t breathe without them? Oh, that
’s right”—her tone grows fierce and mocking—“you have three people who fit that bill. Well, you’re not having a baby, are you?” Chloe holds the bin over my body and peppers me with its icy contents. I tilt my head up as far as possible. Whatever it is she’s decided to finish me off with is tickling the hell out of me.
A slew of tiny yellow creatures curl and twist their way into my flesh. Gah! Dolomites!
“Marshall!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
“Shut up!” She slings the last of the bucket over my face and fills my mouth with the slithering worms. Instinctually, I turn my head and try to evict each and every one of them to the ground. My eye snags on the protective hedge and the mirrored heart Logan gave me lying on the floor in a silver puddle. Shit. I should have turned that necklace into a choker and welded it to my neck.
“Ugh!” I let out a hard groan because the urge to hurl still hasn’t let up.
“I should snuff you out while I have the chance.”
“Did you just say you were going to snuff me out?” I balk at her ridiculous comment as the worms burrow deep into my newly formed incisions.
“Like a flame.” Chloe cinches a smile.
After all I’ve done for this bitch, she should lick the soles of my feet after I run through a puddle of habanero sauce—of course, I’d have to heal first.
“But you’ve done something for me, Skyla”—her neck arches back as if it were sexual in nature—“you’ve gifted me something I could truly never repay you for.”
“Damn straight.” Now we’re talking. “Like your fake life.”
“Oh, no.” She shakes her head, her eyes fixed on mine. “Something far greater. I’ve seen a glimpse of the future. It’s…” she staggers forward like a drunkard. Her gaze lost on some unknowable horizon. “It’s…”
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