“What did you do that for?” It’s more rhetorical at this point.
He offers a depleted smile. “Because I knew you wouldn’t.” He pulls out his phone and texts so fast the phone pops in his hands, wild and spastic. “Brielle had her baby,” he pants glancing up at me briefly. “Baby Beau. She’s on her way to the hospital.”
“A boy! Is that why you’re covered in—did you?” I slap my hand over my mouth as he nods.
“Shit,” he barks down at his phone.
“What?” I push the device back in my purse as the EMTs settle in around Chloe.
“My dad says there’s no way we’ll get the charge we need for Holden.”
That’s because he wasted it on Chloe. I badly want to say that but don’t.
She gets up on her elbows and bats the medics away citing she’s more than OK.
Of course she is, she just had some real action from Gage—their first kiss right here at prom.
Ms. Messenger, I bid you to evacuate the premises, Marshall says, helping me up off the floor. “Immediately,” he snaps. His jaw is distended, his eyes cut into the crowd with a look of vengeance.
I grab Gage by the hand and pull him along.
“Holden hard left,” Gage whispers before dramatically plucking his arm free from mine. “Just because I helped your friend out doesn’t mean I want anything to do with you!” He roars it so loud, the entire crowd reduces to a low rumble.
I glint over towards Holden. He’s all eyes and all ears. Gage and I have the floor. One last opportunity to squelch the life out of him tonight and I’d better not blow it.
“I hate you Gage Oliver! I hate you!” It shrills out of me like a fire alarm. I make a beeline over to Holden and grab him by the wrist. “Get me the hell out of here. I need someone in my life who knows how to have a good time.”
Holden huffs a laugh, takes me in with those serious Logan eyes—the dimple I gave him, by way of broken glass, pulsates in and out. He knows. He’s probably got Pierce and Nat waiting in that hotel room ready to hide my body once they beat me to a bloody pulp, drink down my blood like a brood of thirsty bats.
He leads me out the side exit towards the ocean. A wash of powder fresh fog baptizes us as we rush into the night.
I pray Gage is hot on our heels. That he hasn’t truly lost his sanity and isn’t sabotaging the altruistic purpose of this charade just to keep Logan out of our lives for good. I have a feeling this humanitarian effort, a.k.a, operation zap Holden out of existence, is going to take a little more than his cooperation.
Holden runs us down to the beach. He holds my fingers in a vice grip, sprinting us to the waterline so fast I can barely keep up in this mini-dress and heels. He knocks me down to the chilled sand, runs his hot hands up the bottom of my dress without waiting for an invitation. We jostle and roll further to the shore, with him assaulting me and me wondering how far I should let it go before I try to save myself from his ever-wandering appendages. The sand grows damp beneath me. An unexpected wall of water slaps over our shoulders, crushes us in a bath of icy brine.
Holden forces a series of greedy kisses upon me, roves his tongue in and out of my mouth in quick convulsive spasms. His teeth chatter against mine, his fingers dig into my arms so tight I can feel the circulation cutting off.
A conversation I had with Dr. Oliver comes back to me. I distinctly remember him mentioning that hypothermia would be the best way to preserve Logan’s tissue.
Waves topple us one after another until we’re floating with the natural ebb and flow of the sea.
I latch a leg around Holden’s waist, hook my elbow under his arm and paddle us out while offering up mouthwatering kisses. I spill kisses like lies, promises that will go unfulfilled as I sail us deeper into the dark expanse. I speed us out to sea like a dolphin, swimming hard and fast just the way Marshall taught me, like a marine animal trained for war.
My Celestra blood boils, keeps my body temperature comfortable and stable. I can feel Holden writhing in agony, teeth clattering like castanets. His chest heaves with convulsions from the icy waters.
I let go of him in the black calm of the ocean.
The sparkling resort is nothing but a simple dot glittering in the distance. I can make out the ridge of the island, the entire mass of granite a richer shade of ebony than the sky above it could ever afford.
The dress sizzles to life around me. Logan warms me. Leaves me secure in knowing that I’m not alone.
“Sh-sh-shit!” Holden seizes and thrashes before falling still to his waiting destiny.
I don’t say anything, simply pull him in by the fingers watch him slip peaceful into his final slumber.
Marshall appears glowing a translucent shade of gold as he floats above the surface. “This, my love, is death.” A colorful spiral of light encompasses Holden as it suctions his soul up into its vacuum.
“Now what?” I shout in a panic.
“Breathe life into him.” He floats up into the sky revealing an expanse of large feathered wings wide as a house. “The dress will do the rest.”
“Logan,” I cry, pulling him over to me—so still, so frighteningly still. I seal my mouth over his cold lips and give three lungfuls of air. “Logan!” I shake him, but nothing happens. He’s not moving or breathing. “Marshall!” I dive down on Logan’s mouth in a panic, pulling us under in the process. I blow in a deep lungful of air as my tears mingle with the ocean and wrap my body around him to warm him. My heart aches for Logan. I want him back, alive and with me, so we can watch the future unfold together, see where it might take us, see how far the path that destiny carved out for us leads. I give another gentle puff before pulling us to the surface. His lips twitch beneath mine. He returns a beautiful breath, consummates it with the impression of a kiss that I will remember for ages.
“Logan!” I scream jumping over him, submerging him under without meaning to.
He pulls us back to the surface. “Skyla,” he laughs into the night.
He’s back.
Logan is back—my Logan.
Chapter 87
Fallen Angel
The navy sky hides beneath a veil of feathery fog as Logan and I wash high up on the shore, still glossy and wet from our adventure at sea. He pulls me in, rests his arm over my waist with his chest panting into mine.
“You saved me,” he gasps for breath as he says it, pulling me in nose to nose. He grazes his teeth against mine still laughing, gasping.
“How do I know it’s really you?” I can tell by the way his eyes dance over my face, the delight radiating from his being. There’s something sweet and wholly unique to Logan that shines from deep inside his soul.
“Happily ever after,” he whispers, pushing his forehead to mine. There will be one, I promise.
I get up on my elbows and offer a gentle smile. “It’s already here.”
A couple walking hand in hand along the beach captures my attention.
“Gage?” I scramble up to my feet and Logan follows. Chloe is gazing into him and they share a secret smile. “What the hell?” I run over.
“Skyla!” Gage races towards me and spins me in his arms, presses a kiss upon my forehead, my nose, my lips. He whips off his jacket and pulls it around me still warm from his body before looking up at Logan. “Hey, man, is it really you?” He pulls Logan into a half hug, ruffles his wet hair.
“It’s me.” Logan nods over towards Chloe who’s already halfway back to the resort. “What’s going on?”
To put it mildly that’s exactly what the hell I’d like to know.
He takes a deep breath. “She was thanking me. I knew you were fine, Skyla. I saw Dudley take off toward the water and disappear like a bat in flight. Besides, I don’t want to rock the boat with her, she knows Mia’s in the mirror.”
This catches me off guard.
Did I tell Gage, Mia was in the mirror?
“I was wondering,” I pause trying to take in this entire crazy night. “Why do you think Chloe had a bin
ding spirit around the night of the accident if she wasn’t the one driving the car?” I search Gage like he might have the answer, hoping he does because I’m going to abandon my sanity if I meditate on the subject any longer. “It was Holden, by the way,” I tell Logan, bringing him up to speed.
Gage squints out into the black of the ocean as a thin coat of fog puffs between us.
“Maybe you didn’t go back far enough,” he suggests.
“OK then,” I lay my hand out, Gage covers mine, and Logan his. I close my eyes and think of that terrible night last winter that erected itself like a blade through the heart of our existence, and the world washes blank around us.
***
We appear behind the bowling alley as a light rain begins to pelt us. The three of us stand locked in an argument off in the distance. I can hear the rage in my voice—feel the tension between the three of us, distrustful as a pack of thieves.
The Mustang is still parked back where I left it. Chloe emerges from the service door clutching at her chest, choking back tears.
“She’s dying at the thought of losing Gage,” I say. “We had just showed her the movie where she slaughtered Ethan and Emerson.” I sneak a quick look to Logan.
“It’s no surprise she chose the same mode of torment to take you down,” Gage says, pulling me in and offering a warm kiss. I love you, Skyla. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You know that?
Seems like an odd time for Gage to be professing his love to me. I give a short-lived smile.
“I know,” I whisper.
“Look,” Logan points over to Chloe.
She bats at the air, yelling at someone or something to get away.
“I bet that’s Holden,” I whisper.
She looks over at the three of us arguing under the evergreen and seethes.
“The keys are in the car,” Chloe nods as if she could see him. “I want him gone. If he wants me out of his life so badly I’ll gladly show him the way.”
“She was after me,” Gage breathes in disbelief.
“Chloe wanted you dead.” I shake my head at the impossibility of it all. She’d want the entire human race wiped off the map soon thereafter, once she realized the egregious error she’s committed. Life would be impossible without Gage. I especially know that.
“She didn’t want him necessarily dead,” Logan says it sober. “She wanted Holden to take over, and I’m willing to bet she’d spend the rest of her life with him.”
The Mustang rolls forward, the lights flick on and off like a warning.
“Let’s get out here,” Logan takes up both our hands.
“Let’s,” I say.
And we do.
***
I retrieve my phone from the sand and put in a text to Melissa. Did you find Mia? ~S
Less than a minute later. She got pissed and locked herself in Mom and Dad’s room. She was bawling then it got quiet. I busted through the door and she’s just gone. Everything was shut, the doors, the windows. I don’t know where she could have disappeared to. I’m scared.
I know exactly where she might have disappeared to.
And so does Chloe.
Chapter 88
Body Language
The Madison Lights Ballroom is bathed in billows of precipitous baby’s breath. A blue tinted fog aligns itself with the fact tonight is a new moon.
“Your people have entranced my mother,” I say sarcastically to Logan as we enter the establishment. “She’s been going to the meet and greets with Demetri, often and willing.”
“I’ll find out what’s going on. If she’s at the meetings I’ll see her there for sure. I missed tonight’s, but there’s a follow-up three days later called the Slaughter of Plenty. It concludes the New Moon Festival.”
I don’t know whether to be frightened or impressed that Logan knows so much about the Counts. And the simple fact the phrase he just uttered contained the words slaughter and plenty, both frightens and unnaturally arouses me.
“There she is,” he nods behind me.
“Let me,” Gage offers.
“I’ll go with you.”
Gage wraps an arm around my waist as we head on over. Chloe pretends not to see us coming and continues to listen thoughtfully to whatever Michelle is filling her ears with.
A giant black rose lays flat against Michelle’s swollen chest. I pull a bleak smile at the thought of Marshall actually taking my advice and gifting her a new one—bigger and better at that.
“There’s a good chance Mia is stuck in the mirror.” Gage lets into her with a tone that clues her in on the fact he’s not shitting around.
“What’s it to you?” She snarls at the two of us as if she never did love him, as if she hated us equally.
“My sister is missing,” I hiss. “Remove that stupid binding spirit you placed around it so she can get out in one piece.”
“What the hell kind of hallucinatory drugs are you on?” Michelle pulls at a lock of her hair as Marshall whistles for her in the distance. She gives a sultry smile before trotting off dutifully like a well-trained dog.
“The mirror, dear Skyla, and everything in it is mine.” Chloe cuts a scathing look to Gage. “Why did you bring me back?” She hacks into him accusingly.
His eyes widen. He looks from me to her. “I got a text saying her sister was missing, and all roads to trouble always lead to you, Chloe.” He effortlessly slashes her with the blade of his tongue. “Do the right thing for once and let her go, she’s just a kid.”
“At the beach,” her eyes gloss over, “you said you cared about me, that you had feelings for me. You were faking it all for that stupid brat. You’ve been faking everything, haven’t you?”
Gage doesn’t say anything. He lets his muted silence speak volumes about how much he loathes her.
I’m no expert, but I’m guessing that while bargaining for my sister’s wellbeing, it’s a lousy time to clue Chloe in on how much he hates her.
“I’ll give Mia back,” she doesn’t look at me when she says it. She never takes her eyes off Gage. “But I want to speak with you, alone.”
***
I wander outside and find Logan leaning against the corrugated trunk of a palm, gazing out into a pale sapphire curtain of fog with a dismal expression.
I strum my fingers lightly over his arm. “Everything OK?”
“It is now.” He pulls me in, doesn’t hesitate wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Have I told you how dapper you look tonight?” Every Greek god should bow to his feet, but I don’t tell him that.
“Where’s Gage?” He sears my cheek with the question.
“Chloe—she’s probably telling him off, or vice versa. I didn’t feel like sticking around for the show.” A strangled silence crops up. Now that I’ve got Logan back, there is so much to talk about it’s impossible to know where to begin. “Hey,” I jump. “I thought of a way you might be able to save the bowling alley.”
“Please, share,” he gives a little laugh.
“You could tie in the pizza kitchen to every school lunch program on the island.” I leave out the part of me accusing Chloe of coming up with it. Technically it was me who had the stroke of brilliance.
“You, Skyla Messenger, are a genius.”
I relax my head back and laugh. “I’ve been called many things, genius is not one of them.”
Logan offers a quiet smile. He draws me in with his steely gaze, makes my heart skip a beat.
“You wanna take a walk?” He nods down a path that leads into the woods.
I take up his hand and we head into the forest, the thicket entombs us with a quiet calm, a stark contrast to the bad eighties music that’s hijacked the speakers inside.
The moon glows above the mist, soft as a lamplight.
“God, that feels good,” Logan takes in a full breath.
“What feels good?” I stroke his hand with my thumb. It’s so nice to have him back inside his beautiful body.
“Air in my
lungs,” he presses the back of my hand to his lips, “but now you’ve eclipsed that.” Logan sears into me with his ironclad gaze. He galvanizes himself around my soul, fills me from the inside with all of his formidable splendor. I know damn well it could be dangerous heading into the woods—heading anywhere with Logan on a night like tonight, when I have him back, when I want him so bad.
The wind picks up, brushes against us as we move through the forest. An entire herd of Transfer transplants whir past us, frenetic, chatting a mile a minute.
“What the…?” Logan turns and watches them head towards the resort.
“They’re everywhere. There were a million at prom,” I shrug. “Marshall’s got it under control.” I don’t know that I really believe it, but I’m determined to let him work his black magic, and I’m going to stay the hell out of the situation.
We head further into the shadowed woods. Even the thin veil of moonlight is defused by the dark expanse. Each towering evergreen stands at attention, the blade-like tips of their branches extend, sharp as bayonets.
We stray hand in hand, make our way through a maze of tree trunks until the noise dissipates completely from the ballroom, all that’s left is the sound of our breathing.
Logan takes my hand and places it over his chest. I can feel his heart thump wild and erratic from underneath his shirt.
“It beats for you, Skyla,” his voice dips into its lower register.
He didn’t need to go there. His presence alone seduced me.
“I need to get back.” I try to turn my head towards the resort but I can’t look away. It’s like a car accident waiting to happen with Logan. I know I should run—Chloe loves the wreckage.
Logan steps in, backs me into a tree—grazes his face against my cheek, takes in the scent of my neck.
“I couldn’t feel you,” he whispers. “You weren’t real to me,” it comes out almost inaudible as though it were never meant for my ears.
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