Ephemeral (The Countenance)

by Addison Moore

  “Your families…” She glances down, overcome by great sorrow. “They reside in the tunnels.”

  “My mom.” Cooper takes a breath.

  “Casper?” Flynn takes a step forward as if he were about to shake her down.

  Hattie rakes me with her coal black eyes until it feels like my skin is about to blister. “All of them.”

  “What do you mean all of them?” I step out from behind Coop. If Flynn won’t shake her down, I will.

  “Surmise what you will.” She bounces over to her sister as if she never dispensed the morbid news.

  “How do we get to them?” Flynn demands.

  “In time,” she sings. “You see—it seems my family is locked away someplace entirely different. We have a younger sister, a brother, and a father.” Her gaze drifts into the forest, forlorn and hopeless before that evil spark returns to her eye.

  Family? They’ve got to be in their sixties or seventies at least. For all we know they could be dead.

  “They live.” She looks right at me affirming the fact she’s prying into my cerebral musings. “They’ve stagnated. My brother forever seventeen, my father fifty-three.”

  “And your sister?” I ask.

  “Nine.” It speeds out of her. “Like yours.”

  She knows everything. They’re everywhere.

  “You’re the ones who took the pictures.” The words heave out of me.

  “No, Laken.” Her lips curl as she exchanges a secret look with her sister. “Free my family.” A plume of fog escapes her lips with the demand. “We’ll lead you to yours.”

  “Where are they? How do we free them?” Cooper wants to run but doesn’t know which direction or how long the race is.

  “They’re Spectators,” she snaps. There’s a challenge in her eyes, and I can only imagine what that means.

  “We can’t help you.” Cooper looks to me. There’s no way.

  “Then we can’t help you.” The Tobias sisters disappear in a clap of thunder.

  The ground shifts. We land back in the full-grown forest with smoke rising around us, the wail of fire trucks perforating the night.

  Coop reaches over and takes up both my hands. “We need to get my mom and Casper back.”

  “They’ve got us by the balls. They know we need them,” Flynn says, coughing through the fumes. “I’ll see what I can find out about the tunnels.”

  “You think my family’s down there?” There’s a newfound panic in me over where exactly Lacey and my mother might be.

  “That’s what it sounds like.” Coop looks suspicious, like maybe he doesn’t believe them.

  I wish I didn’t.

  “We need to find a way to help those witches,” I whisper.

  Cooper squeezes my hand. Or maybe we just need them to think we’re helping.

  55

  Swallow the Impossible

  Nefarious dark clouds swirl in the night. They blossom overhead, cantankerous and foul. I pull out the shapes they invoke, the skull, the barren tree—the casket.

  Cooper leads Flynn and me to the back of Melville House. We sit under the eaves and watch the sky light up in shattered jags of lightning.

  “Coop?” I push into him, settling my shoulder into his chest. “If the Tobias sisters were Celestra, why would their family have been resurrected? I thought the Counts were greedy with their God-like abilities.”

  “The Counts are greedy.” He takes up my hand right there in front of Flynn. “That’s why they experimented on the Celestra prisoners, first.”

  “And some of them were young like their sister.” I shake my head. “They killed them, just to bring them back to see if it would work.”

  “Why so many?” Flynn interjects. “Why not five, twenty, even? Rumor has it there are fucking thousands.”

  “Because it worked for a while.” Cooper lets out a sigh and a long pull of fog streams from his lips. “Once the general Count population got wind, they wanted their dead relatives brought back before the body was cold. You needed a fresh death to work with—my dad thinks the resurrection went to the highest bidder.”

  I shake my head at the thought. “How the hell did everything go so wrong?”

  “Took years for the decomposition to hit the fan.”

  “Dude.” Flynn is dazed by the idea. “There is no effing way we’re going to reconstitute some sixty-year-old Spectators. It’s not happening.”

  “There is a way.” Coop pulls his cheek up on one side. “Ezrina.”

  “Ez-who?” Flynn chokes it out.

  “She’s this witch—a troll, I don’t really know what she is. She’s like the keeper of the underworld,” he says it plain.

  “Really?” I ask.

  “She’s intensely insane.” Coop nods. “She’s the one who cooked up the formula for conversion to begin with. After the second generation resurrections took, she was never able to rectify those bodies she already converted. First generation got the shaft. Every now and again they escape to find a better way for themselves on their own. If the Tobias family is still down there, hoping for a conversion, maybe I can convince her to use them as guinea pigs—see if takes.”

  “And if it doesn’t?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

  “Our families get the shaft,” Flynn huffs at the idea.

  “We find them on our own.” There’s a renewed fight in me.

  “I like where you’re going.” Cooper pulls me in with his eyes and holds me in their sanctuary. “But I have a feeling we’re going to need the Tobias sisters. The last place we’ll find the Celestra tunnels will be on earth.”

  His words slither up my back like a snake. The world is wide enough on its own, and now there are questionable spaces, alternate dimensions where they might dwell that we could never reach.

  The sky lights up in lavender tendrils as a ferocious roar unleashes overhead.

  “Tell them we’ll work with them.” Flynn nods into the idea.

  “They want Laken,” Coop says.

  “Even better.” Flynn gives a lazy grin.

  “Thanks.” I groan.

  “You’re a girl,” Flynn gravels it out as if I were the last meal on earth and he wanted a bite. “You can decode their estrogen readings better than we can.”

  “They’re dead, Flynn.” I turn to Coop. “Why would they want my help?” I wash over Cooper with a gentle gaze. His features shine a dull silver under the cast of light streaming from Melville.

  “They want a Count to be responsible for the fallout.”

  “Nice,” I muse. “So when the Celestra blood bank closes up shop, the Counts will know whose head to put on the chopping block.” And, probably quite literally.

  “Exactly.” Cooper gives a heartfelt nod. “No faction dispute, just homegrown treason at its finest. I’m betting the Tobias sisters want Celestra hands clean.”

  “I don’t get it.” It comes out a whimper. “I’m the least of the Counts. I’m for sure not a diehard. The last thing I want to do is align myself with the bastards.” All I wanted to do was prove that I wasn’t from here, that I had a life somewhere else—that Wes and Fletch did, too.

  A lone tear threatens to fall, and I blink it back before it has a chance to cloud the world with its liquid sorrow.

  “You’re possibly the only Count alive that wants out of the organization.” Coop gives a sly smile. “Who better to stab them in the heart than one of their own?” A fracture of light sizzles through the sky, and he examines me under the electrical display. “Besides, I think you owe the Tobias sisters in a big way.”

  “I do?”

  “They confirmed everything we knew.” Cooper wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me in. He dusts my forehead with his lips. “You’re lucid.”

  “Laken?” Wesley’s voice explodes in the night like a siren.

  “I’d better go,” I say, shaking the soot off the back of my dress.

  “I wouldn’t tell Wes,” Flynn suggests, surprising me. From Coop I’d expect it.

 
; “He won’t work with us. He’s too indoctrinated,” Cooper adds. “Good night, Laken.” He wraps his arms around me for a very long time before pulling away and taking me in. “You look so beautiful,” he whispers it low but even then Flynn can hear him. “I just want you to know I’ll never forget how gorgeous you look tonight.”

  Wes belts out my name—his voice draws in on us just below Melville House and my head explodes with pain. At least now I know why I’m getting the headaches—the windshield, the resurrection—it’s all real.

  Cooper glances off in the distance and swivels his hands over my back. “If you need anything at all. Just say the word, and I’ll be there.”

  “I know.” I pull him in for one last hug before taking off into the blank canvas of night.

  I follow Wesley’s desperate cries until I spot his heavily shadowed frame on the outskirts of the knoll just below Austen House.

  “Wes?” I shout. My Wes—Celestra-blood-thirsty Wes.

  I hate this. Everything about this is wrong.

  “Laken!” He charges in my direction, wraps his arms around my waist, happy to have found me.

  God, I love you, he seals the invisible sentiment with a kiss that falls in line with eternity. If you could pull a kiss out for miles, this would be the one.

  “I fell in the forest,” I pant, looking up into his face. “Funny thing is I saw myself in that tree house again.” I smooth out my expression. “Things started coming back to me.”

  “Laken.” An arid rose blooms from his lips. The amethyst sky illuminates in a seizure from above. His teeth flash a brilliant pearl and light up the night resplendent. “Knew it. You’re going to be all right.” He takes in my scent at the neck, dots my face with a spastic spray of kisses. “What the hell happened out there tonight?”

  “Jen—she knocked into Jax—there must have been a ricochet effect.” I spit out the lies faster than I can process them. “Did we avert an Austen House massacre? No one’s dead, right?” I’d feel horrible if someone died in the mêlée.

  “No one’s dead. You were the last accounted for.” Wes gives a strained look out into the forest. “We’d better get you home. Jen’s hysterical.”

  “So you’re saying she’s her normal self.” I lean into him as his chest rumbles alongside mine.

  “I think we should do something to commemorate us as a couple.” He jostles into my shoulder as he says it.

  “Time travel?” I blink up at him, trying to usher the fact, I’ve already done it once tonight, out of my mind.

  “I’m still working on that. I have just enough juice to get us somewhere and not bring us back.”

  “Oh, right.” Juice.

  “I think we should head to Charity next weekend—I can teach you to use your powers.” He pulls me in under the fat belly of the moon. “I promise you one thing,” he whispers as he lands a gentle kiss across my lips, “it will be unforgettable.”

  Austen House is frazzled with girls huddled around the fireplace recanting every last detail to a rather peeved-looking Ms. Paxton. Wes goes over to talk to her while I hunt down Jen.

  I run upstairs and smack into a giant cushion of a body as I turn the corner.

  It’s Grayson in her silk-robed glory.

  “I saw you tonight,” she hisses, her burgundy lips set in a snarl.

  “Yes, and I saw you. We were all there, remember?” I try to dart around, but she blocks my path.

  “You were with him,” she accuses. “You’re cheating on Wes with Cooper.” She says it so freaking loud I flinch at the thought that maybe Wes heard.

  “I’m with Wes. He’s downstairs right now waiting for me.” Oddly, it feels like a betrayal to Cooper to say that. Wes is a compass—a guide to the nexus of this wickedness. But until I release him from the stranglehold the Counts have on his memory, a part of him remains a counterfeit.

  “Tell me you don’t like Cooper Flanders.” She drills her vacant eyes into me like a dare.

  “Everybody likes Cooper Flanders.” I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks. “He’s just a friend. He’s helping me with lit.”

  She swallows down a laugh. “You are such a liar. I saw the two of you take off in the forest.” Her eyes gleam with vicious pleasure. “I’m going to hang you, Laken. When I’m through, you won’t have Wes or Cooper to lean on. Not even Flynn will want to come near you. I don’t know how they can even stomach you after you got high out of your fucking mind and nailed half the basketball team.”

  “I did?” That vision I had when Miles forced his lips upon me replays in my mind like a movie.

  “Some rumors don’t lie.” Her lips curl victoriously.

  “Is that what I did at Rycroft?” I say it more to myself than Grayson. And Jen still thought I was a virgin? I bet it was the zero-drug policy that supposedly got me booted and not the zero “going down on jocks” policy.

  “Must have stung like hell when your own boyfriend found you—reported you to campus officials. Boys turn on you, Laken. And, I’m going to make sure Cooper and Wes do exactly that. You’re so damaged it’s sickening.” She knocks into my shoulder as she takes off downstairs.

  That’s what I supposedly did? The basketball team?

  I’m going to find the bastard that devised my alternate identity and strangle him with my bare hands. I could have done any number of things to get expelled and none of them needed to make me look like some female version of Tucker, the man-whore of Cider Plains.

  I’ll have to be extra careful with Coop. The last thing I need is the white-haired witch dismantling everything I’m working so hard to get back—namely Wes in all his former glory. I need Wesley in my life more than ever and for far stranger reasons than I could have imagined.

  The door to my bedroom sits ajar, and I can hear Jen giggling, but its pitch black inside.

  Dear God, she’s finally ditched her sanity.

  I flick on the lights and jump back at the sight.

  Shit!

  Jen and a very bare-chested Jackson spike up on her bed. Her hair is disheveled, and a crimson smudge lies over both their lips.

  Oh my, God.

  “I was just getting a sweater.” I back out of the room without bothering.

  “We were just talking!” Jen shouts after me.

  I turn off the lights and shut them inside.

  Looks like Jen found someone to share kisses with, and from the looks of the lust-filled map drawn over their faces, they were anything but chaste.

  Time to have a little unchaste time myself, with Wes. Although the idea of surrendering myself to this new version feels a lot like I’m cheating on the Wesley I once knew. Maybe it’s me who needs to wait for his memory to restore itself.

  56

  Zombie Nights

  Wes and I drive over to his mother’s house where he swears he has a real bedroom just like the rest of civilization.

  “I’ll have to see it with my own eyes.” I try to smear it with as much disbelief as possible. Truth is, I would love another piece to the puzzle that is Wesley Paxton. This mysterious persona who’s hijacked someone so pure and simple and turned him into a viable monster.

  I’m still wearing the navy dress from earlier. There was no way I was going to ruin Jen’s foray into French kissing.

  I glance over at Wes as he drives—so silent and strong with his chest broad as a wall. The thought of him kissing me used to give me pleasure. Now it twists my insides with an ever-so-slight ache. The Tobias sisters, well, Hattie, said that I’d always have an affection for Wes but that my heart belonged to Cooper.

  I drop my gaze to the dashboard and feel the weight of those words. I’m not sure I’m willing to admit she was right—ever.

  The houselights are on as Wes and I head up.

  “She said she left in a hurry—didn’t think she locked the doors.” He spins the knob confirming her theory. Wes waits for me to cross the threshold first, a perfect gentleman in every way.

  A dark shadow elongates from the ki
tchen, and I hop behind Wes, startled.

  “It’s just me.” Mr. Edinger holds his hands out as he makes his way into the living room. “Ellen mentioned she had an emergency, so I wanted to come by and see if everything was okay.” He holds up a sandwich. “A quick bite never hurt, either.” The chandelier casts a pale halo over him as he takes us both in. “I was just leaving, in fact.” He gives Wes a knowing wink.

  “No, it’s okay.” Wes tries to play it off like it was nothing, like we weren’t going to head upstairs and see how much my memory, or his, really mattered in our unification efforts.

  “I’ll show myself out the back.” He settles his gaze over me for a moment. His brows dip over his hooded eyes. They clue the world in on his sinister nature. Mr. Edinger hides a secret laugh just beneath his perennial smirk. “I see you’re through with your tutor.”

  Is he talking about Cooper?

  “So many papers to work on this year,” he continues, “I’m sure you’ll grow to know him quite intimately.” There it is, that drawl I heard in the Transfer. It couldn’t have been him down there, could it? “Good night,” he says before heading into the kitchen. “Careful what decisions you make.” He drags out the words, his gaze never wavering. “Especially when you think no one’s watching.” He nods before disappearing into the kitchen.

  Those candid pictures pop into my mind like a junk drawer shaking out old snapshots.

  There’s something altogether off about him—haunting. It’s as if we’ve met long before I ever came to Ephemeral, and I can’t place where or when. One thing’s for sure, I don’t trust Mr. Edinger.

  Wes spins me around and pins me with a kiss before I could protest. “That was close.” He bites down gently on my lower lip and tugs gently before letting go. “Imagine his surprise if he found us upstairs.” He sears me with his lust. “Reading our lit books.”

  I tremble into him with a laugh. Wes is hungry, and I’m starting to feel an awful lot like a meal.

  His cheek rides up on one side as he examines me. “I’d better run up and make sure I don’t have any old socks hanging around. They could be lethal, and I’ve made it my personal mission in life to protect you.” He dots my nose with a kiss. “I’ll just be a sec.”