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Elysian

Page 14

by Addison Moore


  “That’s right.” Mia bites out the words and startles me with her overeager agreement to the insult. “I’m way too juvenile. Gee, I wish I were grownup like Melissa, but then again I’d have to find a boyfriend that likes to hand out hickies to ten different girls.”

  Mom and I suck in a simultaneous breath.

  “Melissa!” Mom shrieks so loud the baby seizes in his playpen. “It’s OK honey…” She trots off and swipes him up. “You are the light of the world!” She barks the strange proclamation over his amber-feathered head. “You are a prince among men!” The walls vibrate with my mother’s abrasive verbal assault.

  Melissa steps into Mia with a rabid aggression. “You’re such a stupid shit. Just because Gabriel rejected you doesn’t mean you should ruin it for the rest of us.” She speeds off for the stairs.

  “Melissa,” Mom calls after her to no avail. “Emerson, I apologize. Our mornings are usually much more demure.”

  “Oh, that’s all right.” Giselle is quick to put my mother at ease. “They’re pretty wild at my house, too.”

  I bet, especially since half of the people that live there aren’t who they’re supposed to be.

  “Listen, Skyla”—Mom reverts her attention back to me—“Demetri called and said you haven’t been doing your community service. He says, Wednesday after school is fine with him. I’ll be there planning the party, so you won’t have to be afraid. The last thing I want is for you to fear him.” She strokes my hair like petting a kitten.

  “Why would I fear him? It’s not like he makes it a practice to set members of my family on fire,” I snap. “Oh, wait, he does.”

  “This isn’t the time.” She closes her eyes as if I were a lost cause.

  I’m pretty sure there’s a lost cause around here, and it isn’t me.

  Tad waltzes in with Isis who looks as if her closet has just been hijacked. She’s sporting a pair of Daisy Dukes with her blouse tied off just under her boobs. Her feet are noticeably bare as if she were allergic to shoes, and she’s made the unfortunate decision to pull her hair back in pigtails. Pigtails.

  I lean into Mom and whisper, “What’s the farmer’s daughter doing here?” More like the devil’s daughter.

  “She’s apparently an expert on finance.” She rolls her eyes as if wisely not convinced. “She’s going to teach us a few tricks to save a dollar here and there. Every little bit helps.” Mom makes her way to the table, ready and willing to swallow all the bullshit Isis, the barefoot wizard of Wall Street, is ready to dole out, mile after fictitious mile.

  “Come on, Giselle,” I say, ushering her out of the room. “I’ll take you to breakfast.”

  Mia looks to Giselle and winks. “I’ll see you tonight at the council meeting.”

  I pluck Mia back by the elbow. “You can’t seriously align with them. I’m your sister—your own flesh and blood.”

  “Yes, I can,” she snarks, yanking her elbow free. “Pierce says there’s big news tonight, and I don’t want to miss it. Plus there’s always a mixer after, so I get to meet hot new guys and eat pizza. The Counts are totally badass.”

  “Mia. I won a war for Pete’s sake. What could be more badass than that?”

  “Not according to Pierce, you didn’t. Chloe stood in your way and saved all of Countenance from permanent Celestra rule.”

  “Oh, so she’s the hero?”

  “She’s not only the hero”—Mia holds up her wrist and exposes a scab in the form of a thin line—“she’s my soul sister.”

  “Oh shit.” Leave it to Chloe to mark Mia as her own flesh and blood like this is eighth grade, well, for Mia it sort of is.

  I watch as she bolts upstairs.

  “We have to get her back, Giselle.” An unexpected spring of tears floods my vision. “I can’t lose her to the Counts.” That pendant flashes before my eyes like a warning. “I can’t lose Marshall either. Whatever you’ve got stopped up in that brain of yours, we need it to use against Chloe. The sooner the better.”

  “That reminds me, I almost forget to tell you”—Giselle breaks out in a giant dimpled grin—“I asked Arson if there was anyone I could see about these memory problems I was having, and he said there is one person on the island who could figure this out.”

  “Really?” I bet its Dr. Booth. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. “Who is it?

  “Demetri Edinger.”

  Figures.

  Everything is going to shit again.

  ***

  The sky maintains its stoic composure, nothing but steel pressing in with the heat of an incinerator.

  “It feels like hell,” I lament to Brielle as we head onto the field for practice.

  Chloe and Logan catch my eye off in the distance. The big bad bitch shakes her head, dropping her face into her palms before pulling him into a hug.

  “You see that?”

  “Yup.” Brielle takes a breath. “You think Chloe and Logan will end up together if you choose Gage or Dudley?”

  A pair of strong arms sweep me off my feet before I have a chance to answer. A dark head of hair leans in and presses a kiss over my cheek.

  “Gage!” I laugh as he twirls me around.

  He plants a kiss on my lips and greets me with those brilliant sapphire eyes. I wish the sky above Paragon would take a cue from Gage’s gorgeous peepers, but, then again, God probably stole the color from the heavens just to give it to him. And if you ask me, it was well worth the exchange.

  “Three o’clock,” I say.

  Gage turns just enough and nods. “Weird.” He draws in close. “I can’t get jack out of him. He says he’s fine, but I’ve been grilling him, and the only thing he seems to get wrong are facts about the war.”

  Brielle leans in. “I was just telling Skyla maybe he’s into Chloe?” She interjects her very much unwanted opinion. “Anyway, I’d better join the squad.” Brielle raises her brows at me before taking off. Does she honestly think I’m going to test drive Gage right here on the field? Not that I would mind.

  Logan catches my eye again. Chloe wraps an arm around his waist, and he doesn’t swat her off like the gnat she is.

  “Something is definitely wrong.” I hold onto Gage as we stare out at the two of them engrossed in a conversation. “I’ve got community service at Demetri’s Wednesday night. I’m thinking about infiltrating the ranks. Cozying up to my favorite Fem in exchange for a few answers.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “No, trust me, it’s best I go alone. If he sees I’m vulnerable, he’ll be more apt to believe me.”

  “Bring Nev.” Gage frowns into me, and his dimples invert.

  “Done.” I run my hand down his chest and give a little smile. “I got the letter.” I can hardly meet his eyes when I say it.

  “Sorry if I came on too strong.”

  “No.” I pull him in. “You were perfect. Every word, everything you said—it touched me, Gage. It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever read. It meant a lot to me. It really did.”

  “I’m glad.” His dimples dig in and hang out long after his smile dissipates. “You working tonight?”

  “Nope, you?” The words vibrate through my fingers as I scratch at his T-shirt.

  He nods, no smile.

  “What?”

  He shakes his head. “There’s something I kind of want to show you at the bowling alley—actually in the parking lot.”

  “That sounds perfectly dirty, Gage Oliver.”

  “It is dirty.” He lands a quick kiss over my lips. “But now that I think about it, it’s not my place to do it.” He lets out a breath, examining me with his smoky gaze. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll find out soon enough.” He pulls me into a tight embrace. “I’ll always be here for you, Skyla,” he whispers before taking off down the field.

  I glance in the distance and catch Logan standing alone. He offers up a wave before joining Gage on the way to practice.

  Ms. Richards blows her whistle, and the cheer squad lines up at mil
itary attention per Chloe’s newly formed rule. The fact that Chloe is a drill sergeant in the making doesn’t surprise me in the least. I can totally picture her barking out commands in the bedroom to Ethan, and Holden. An image of Logan lying next to Chloe springs to mind, unwanted, and I try to shake the horror out of my head.

  “First game is against Tacoma in just four days!” Ms. Richards’ hair stands on end like Ezrina’s, which is kind of ironic since Ezrina, herself, was gorgeous just prior to the curse my mother cast on her. “Let’s knock ‘em dead! Our team needs all the support we can give them. We want to nail these routines for our football players.”

  “Skyla’s good at nailing football players,” Lexy smirks.

  “Yeah,” Chloe snips. “She’s already cheering for half the team in bed—oh wait, you’re just a tease aren’t you?”

  “Skyla.” Ms. Richards pulls her lips in a dissatisfied smile. “You never tease a boy. Besides, boys are for later in life. All you need now is good friends and even better books.” Her phone rings, and she motions for Chloe to take over.

  “You hear that, Skyla? Books trump boys, but a cock-tease like you wouldn’t understand that.”

  “I’m not a cock-tease, Chloe. That’s disgusting.” I glance over at poor Giselle, sorry for her because she has to listen to this nonsense. And it must be twice as disgusting since the cocks in question happen to be attached to her relatives.

  “Those weren’t my words.” Chloe pumps a smile. “Those were Logan’s.”

  Chloe clasps the protective hedge with the fingers like the ultimate F.U.

  Logan called me a cock-tease?

  I glance down the field at the boy who seems to have lost his mind these days and wonder.

  “Listen up.” Chloe drills the whistle into our ears as if the dig she just initiated didn’t matter. “As you all know, Ellis Harrison has taken off for greener pastures.”

  Nat shoots me a corrosive look. She so wants to grind my face down with her fist.

  “In light of that”—Chloe continues as if anybody cared—“I’ve taken it upon myself to host a party Friday night after the game. We’ll be planning our senior prank, so stay sober. We’re going to need every available brain cell onboard to top the antics of last year’s class. Skyla, you’re exempt, we all know your brain is programmed to do nothing but suck face with boys.”

  Michelle and Lexy break out in titters. Em and Nat are too acidic to join in on the laugh-fest, but I’m sure they, too, are in agreement with our fearless leader.

  I’d like Chloe’s face to suck on my fist.

  Giselle lets out an exasperated breath. “I’m really tired of the way you treat, Skyla.”

  Crap. She didn’t even say it all Goth-like and scary. It came out whiny like the protest of a child, and knowing that Giselle had her life cut off at a young age, that sort of makes sense.

  “Are you tired of my behavior, Emerson?” Chloe says it amused, like a cat luring a mouse straight into its mouth.

  “Yes,” Giselle continues, “so much so, that I think I might let out a secret or two at that little party of yours.”

  Chloe shoots me a look and straightens. “Speaking of secrets… I think we should do something together that embeds the seven of us permanently together. A secret we could take through life—just the cheer squad.”

  “It sounds illegal.” I’m the first to be the voice of reason.

  Brielle hoots and bounces. “It sounds like fun!”

  “It will be,” Chloe assures. “Skyla’s just allergic to fun, so she wouldn’t understand the concept.” She gleams with hatred for me. “Again, Logan’s words, not mine.”

  Bitch.

  I glance down the field and spot his jersey—number twelve.

  And what in the hell has Logan acting like such an asshole?

  ***

  On Tuesday, Gage and I drive Giselle downtown to see Dr. Booth. I called and begged for an emergency appointment. Apparently, he’s so busy with the town loons, he could hardly squeeze in one more on the side.

  Dr. Booth’s office is lined with cherry-stained bookshelves that stretch the room out to a perfect rectangle. A pile of logs sit by the soot-covered fireplace, letting off the scent of fresh cut wood.

  Giselle takes a seat to my right and Gage to my left as we take in the curious décor that makes up the landscape of his office. A new painting hangs on the wall, and my jaw hits the floor once I see it. It’s of a naked girl, kneeling, her pink nipples stand erect and proud. It reminds me an awful lot of the paintings Marshall presented me with a few weeks back, and for a moment I look for the slightest hint of myself in her passion-riddled face. Next to the girl with the vanilla skin sits a framed picture of a man touching the finger of God. I recognize that from sixth grade art as the work of none other than Michelangelo.

  Strange. It’s almost as if someone is trying to tell me something. I’m betting that someone is Marshall.

  “So tell me again how this fits into Dudley?” Gage whispers as we wait for the good doctor to arrive.

  I sit up at attention because for a second I think Gage just read my mind, but then the Eye of Refuge pops in my head, and I’m oriented back to reality.

  I lean in and whisper directly into his ear, “If Giselle doesn’t help get the pendant back from Chloe, my mother is going to blink him out of existence.”

  “And this is a bad thing?” His chest trembles with a laugh. “So you want my sister to help keep Dudley on the planet.”

  “Yes. I want her to help keep him anywhere.”

  His dimples dart in and out. “I might be rooting for Chloe on this one.”

  “Gage.” I smack him over the arm.

  “What’s going on?” Giselle leans in, looking fearful as if something were truly amiss, and it is.

  Dr. Booth speeds into the room before we can answer. He takes a seat behind his desk, extinguishing a manufactured smile.

  “Why do I sense trouble?” He lifts his chin at me.

  His dark bushy brows extend past his wire-rimmed glasses, and he looks genuinely troubled by our presence. As he should.

  “She’s got a memory we need to unleash.” I nod over to Giselle.

  Dr. Booth shakes his head. “The whole story.”

  It’s like he knows me. He’s a Levatio like Gage, so I feel totally safe letting him in on every last detail as I start in on the long, sordid story.

  “Marshall brought back Emerson then Chloe chopped her head off, and then we needed a soul so everyone could think Emerson was still alive so we could continue to blackmail Chloe to please Arson Kragger, but Arson couldn’t stand up to Demetri because Demetri made sure my treble was a lasting ordinance.” I pause, ransacking my brain to see if I left anything out. “Anyway”—I take a breath, turning to Gage—“did I mention Logan and I are taking Arson and Pierce to the Justice Alliance for resurrecting those eighty-nine souls in the faction war? It’s really Holden in Pierce’s body. I killed Pierce a few months back and now Holden is hiding out in his evil shell.”

  “What?” Gage looks as if I just told him I ate the heart of a newborn for breakfast.

  “Hold your thoughts, Gage.” Dr. Booth rasps his knuckles over the desk. “I’d like a spin at this, first.” He looks over at me, more than a little irate. “Skyla, for God’s sake, why?”

  “I don’t know. Logan thought it was a good idea.” I bite my lip. “And so did I. The Counts sucked those souls right out of the ethereal plane and resurrected them as lab rats. I’ve been taken, by the way”—I smear it with all of the attitude I can—“it’s a living hell down there. They’ve got children and babies—entire families are being held hostage, never to be released.” The sweet little girl I saw down there wafts through my mind. Her name was Lacy, and I’m positive she’s related to Laken the girl I tried rescuing from Ezrina’s floating casket emporium—Wesley’s main squeeze.

  I shudder just thinking about him. He looks so much like Gage it scares the crap out of me.

  “I
’m sure it’s dreadful.” Dr. Booth nods, still obviously annoyed by my strategy. “Skyla, acting as a thorn in the Counts’ side is not going to help your plight. If what you say is true and your mother finds you the victor, and thus advisor to the Faction Councils, I seriously doubt the Counts will come forth with the level of support you’ll need. You, my friend, have just stepped into a hornet’s nest. This won’t go away easily, and if Arson and Holden or Pierce whoever-he-is-these-days Kragger have their way, you will most certainly pay.”

  A breath escapes me as I sink in my seat. A wild thought sails through my brain, and I’m stunned into submission.

  “You don’t think that Logan was sabotaging me, do you?” I look to Gage and Giselle for answers.

  “Why would he do that?” She jumps in her seat at the idea. “That boy loves you. In fact, just the other day, I heard him say he was going to do something special to make sure you would never forget him.”

  “Why would I forget Logan?” I glance over to Gage. “The only person forgetting about Logan seems to be Logan.” I shake the thought away and turn to the good doctor. “Can you help Giselle tap into her memory bank? We really need to know what has Chloe so riled up.”

  “No.” Dr. Booth folds his hands and gives a defeated blink. “But there is one person on this island who can do just that. I hear she uses an intricate stone technique that yields wonderful results.”

  “Great,” I lean in. “Who is it?”

  “Isis Edinger.”

  13

  The Devil’s Cup

  Wednesday morning in chemistry I can hardly keep my eyes open. It doesn’t help that the steady sound of rainfall is luring me to sleep like a lullaby. Paragon sings its favorite song as I watch the evergreens wave wild outside the classroom window.

  “Do I bore you, Ms. Messenger?” Marshall smacks his handy-dandy pointer hard against his desktop, and I jerk to an upright position.

  “No.” I glance around startled as if maybe I had just woken up. Shit. Was I sleeping?

 

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