Burn

by Addison Moore

  Anyway. On the Gage front, I went over to hang out tonight. Ellis went somewhere with his family and plus Lexy is out of town, so Michelle practically begged me.

  We watched a movie, and after I went outside to hang out by the pool with Gage. We just dipped our feet in the water and sat next to each other real quiet. It was nice. I still wish it were Gage coming down through my attic.

  August 2nd,

  Ms. Richards knows. Oh freaking shit! I want to strangle Lexy and her big, fat, stupid, mouth!

  So I get to sixth period and she goes all psych teacher on me and starts asking about my lineage and shit. Who the heck does Lexy think she is letting people in on our secret? Anyway, Ms. Richards invited me over to her house to check something out that belonged to her great, great, grandmother, like I’m some sort of extra terrestrial expert all of a sudden. The strangest part is that Ms. Richards believed everything Lexy told her. Isn’t that weird? Wouldn’t a normal person just brush off something like that as though it were coming from a whack job? I don’t get it. I really don’t.

  I’m tired, and it’s beyond late, but it’s too addicting to stop, so I read through a couple more before turning out the lights. But this is the one that lingers in my mind long after I go to sleep.

  August 5th,

  So I begged Lexy and Em to come with me to Ms. Richards house, but they both bailed. Lucky for me we just sat on her porch. She gave me sweet tea and had me look through some old family pictures. She mentioned something about stuff in the safe, but thankfully it was blocked with a bunch of crap, so she couldn’t get to it.

  Anyway, her great, great, grandmother was a freaky looking version of Ms. Richards, but I swear I’ve seen her somewhere before. Long, red, crazy hair that looked like it was made from copper wires. I bet they put her in the nut house just for looking so bizarre.

  In one picture, it was like she was looking straight through me, like she was actually alive and looking at me with her scary bulging eyes. Of course I asked if I could take one of the pictures home, but she said no. So I when she got up to go inside for more tea, I snaked one. Ms. Richards said she was told never to say her great, great grandmother’s name. The one I took was marked in chicken scratch on the back. So, of course I said the name like ten times—too funny.

  I carefully peel back the next page and a picture slides out. It’s of a woman standing in an open field with a familiar wild shag of hair and a solemn, haunting expression on her face. I turn it over and see scrawled in rickety handwriting the name—Ezrina.

  Chapter Nine

  Friday Night Fight

  I’m getting more mileage than I ever imagined from getting my throat slit. On Friday, Gage actually lets me brush my leg up against his and cheat on my Algebra Two test. He was staunchly against the idea just a few weeks ago. You would have thought I had asked him to turn his dog into hamburger, but not this time.

  Skyla.

  I look up. It’s Marshall’s voice in the background while Gage is busy processing number nine out of twenty on the chapter test.

  I tilt my head at him.

  I see you touching Gage. He raises his brows completely unamused. I’m going to let you slide, but just this once. He presses his finger to his lips. I had to hire a cleaning crew to scrub down the house after the near massacre you incurred. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better. He gives a short-lived smile. Michelle has been asking a whole slew of questions about you as of late.

  Me? I give a puzzled look.

  Why don’t you meet me here at four-thirty? He gives a sly grin. It would be my pleasure to go over her concerns with you.

  No, I mouth over at him.

  Suit yourself. Don’t coming running to me when you receive your next mortal infliction. He turns towards the blackboard.

  Next mortal infliction?

  Consider yourself warned.

  ***

  Friday night, Ms. Richards is well aware of my severely sore throat, so she lets me cheer minus the actual cheering, while wearing a white fuzzy scarf that matches my uniform. I don’t dare even think of Ezrina when I’m around Ms. Richards. I’m afraid to tell anybody what I read—afraid I might accidentally call her to me with that stupid picture and she might chop off my other arm or my head. Oh my, God, what if it was Ezrina who slit my throat? What if just picking up Chloe’s diary was enough to call her? Shit!

  The crowd starts to boo. Everyone rises to their feet. Something is happening on the field, but I can’t tell what.

  “They’re brawling!” Brielle shouts, clapping her hands like this is great news.

  The air is smoky, filled with the perpetual dense fog that settles over the island night after night. I see bodies streaming in a steady pile, then slowly they get plucked off of one another until just two are left, both in royal blue and white uniforms—number 12 and 44. Logan and Gage.

  I cup my hand up over my mouth.

  The coach kicks them both about a dozen times before they roll apart and get up.

  They cut death rays at one another before walking in opposite directions. I’m pretty sure this has nothing to with the visiting team, the ball, or the game in general. I feel pretty crappy about the whole thing. I’m going to have to figure out a way to put an end to this, but how?

  A light drizzle starts in, and we finish the game, frosted with microscopic droplets of water.

  We stand in line formation waiting to high-five the team as they run on by. Logan comes first with his lip cut and bloodied. I need to see you, he says as we connect. His eyes are filled with sorrow and a part of me wants to run off with him right now.

  Gage comes up dead last with nothing to show for the fight, at least not on his face.

  “Everyone is hanging out at the falls tonight. Wanna go?” He looks hopeful.

  “Falls?” It comes out a little louder than a whisper. I’ve been trying to use my voice all week like Dr. Oliver instructed. Right after, he broke the news the reason I wasn’t healing so well was because I’ve offed so much blood between the donations for Chloe and having my throat slit. “Is Logan going?”

  His eyes dip down with a brief look of disappointment.

  My heart sinks at the thought of hurting Gage with my words. I was only asking because Logan mentioned he wanted to see me.

  “Of course I’ll go.”

  “Great.” He starts running backwards towards the gym. “You’ll need a bathing suit.” He shrugs. “Or not.”

  Right, like I’m going to skinny dip with all the kids on Paragon.

  ***

  So technically, I’m wearing my ridiculous white fuzzy scarf, so I’m not really skinny dipping. Plus, it’s like pitch black out, sans the full moon, and plus…oh shit, I’m skinny dipping with all the kids on Paragon.

  The reality hits me that I actually let Brielle talk me into stripping down and jumping in without any clothes in order to prove that I didn’t care what people thought of my body—a demonstration of sheer stupidity on my part. Thank God, Gage and the guys are all jumping off the cliff side, way up the hill, screaming like idiots, or I never would have agreed to it.

  “I’m getting out.” My teeth chatter in rhythm. My skin is numb from the shock of icy water. You’d think, by the way the rest of the girls lounge around and laugh, that we were sitting in a hot tub.

  “Relax. Besides, it’s dark out there. Someone might be waiting to hack your head off.” She lets out a high-pitched laugh.

  “Right, that’s not funny.” I don’t know how she can sit there and joke about it, when she’s the one who swore she would never be able to look at a straw the same way again.

  Brielle seems unfazed by the sting of lake. She dips down under the water line and reemerges with her hair washed back, spitting a perfect stream into my face.

  “I swear, Skyla, you take life so seriously. For all you know, you might be swimming with the person who did it.” She pushes off the rocks and strokes effortlessly into the distance.

  What the hell was that suppo
sed to mean? I watch as she shifts onto her back exposing her bare chest. The moonlight casts its glossy high beam over her pale naked body. Brielle has no shame, no remorse for cheating on Drake, and she’s a Count. Maybe I am swimming with the one who did it?

  I back out of the water slowly and head into a thicket of weeds that comes up to my waist. I watch as Kate bumps into Brielle in the middle of the water, and they start to drown each other while laughing. A small part of me wants to warn Kate, tell her Brielle is capable of anything.

  The sound of someone clearing their throat startles me to attention, and I spin around creating an x across my chest with my arms.

  Logan!

  A slow spreading wicked grin appears on his face. He plucks a hand from his pocket and points over at me.

  I look down briefly.

  Crap! I’ve managed to flex my arms expertly over my chest to cover up, well— nothing.

  He takes off his shirt and tosses it over just shy of where I’m standing.

  I snatch it off the ground quick as thief. I can feel the weight of his stare as I pull it on.

  “I think that body should be illegal in all 50 states,” he says it in a low husky growl.

  “Was that an insult?” I slip into my cheer shorts at super sonic speed.

  “Why don’t we go into the woods, and you can figure it out.” There’s something hauntingly seductive about Logan under this full squatting moon—something in his eyes, that suggests there are still so many more layers to this person than I could ever imagine.

  I circle his waist and rub his bare stomach with my hand—hitch my thumb in through the belt loop of his jeans.

  So many more layers, I plan on removing.

  Chapter Ten

  Alone

  Logan rubs his hand up and down over my arm as we make our way into the wall of pine trees just beyond the border of the lake. I remember coming here with him in the summer, back when we were free to be together out in the open—at least we thought.

  The forest is heavily scented. The pines release their oils into the night air creating a dramatic, sweet, woodsy scent that awakens your memory, reminds you of all the things you cherish.

  Logan’s t-shirt and my cheer shorts cling to me like a second skin. I turn to face him and my hair whips around in sopping thick tendrils.

  I love being alone with Logan, lost in the shadows, nobody around to distract us from one another. In the distance we hear errant screams, voices sounding off like a riot in some other dimension.

  “I miss this,” he whispers warm in my ear.

  I push him against the trunk of a tree and examine him in this blue filtered light. Logan looks amazing, like he belongs to some noble race.

  He gives the slight huff of a laugh and holds our conjoined hands up. He heard, and this makes me suppress a nervous smile.

  He pulls me in and offers a sweet kiss. Logan gives powerful kisses. There is nothing that Marshall’s body can pulse through me with his feel good vibrations that could ever compare to a moment like this. It more than feels good. With Logan I can feel the love behind it.

  “Skyla,” he whispers pulling me close.

  “Yeah?” I like holding Logan like this.

  “You read the diary?” He pulls back a bit. I can see the question circulating in his eyes.

  “Just a little. I found out Lexy knows a way to bind Fems.”

  “What?” He looks disbelieving. “Really? I don’t think she’s one of us.”

  “She must be. She told Chloe she’d tell her how to do it.”

  “Did she?”

  “I haven’t gotten that far, but if Chloe was taken by Fems probably not.”

  The whites of his eyes dart around in the dark.

  “You think there’s a way to bind Fems? She said she could do it without lifting a finger,” I say.

  “I don’t know, but if there is, we need to figure it out fast. That could save us—you.”

  “She said you were with Lexy.” I shrug. It’s stupid to hurt over something that’s ancient history.

  “With Lexy,” he says it like a fact. “We hung out.” He shakes his head. “But she was never anything more than a friend. I’ll try and talk to Lex, see what she can tell me about binding Fems.”

  I don’t like the way he sinks effortlessly into calling her Lex.

  “OK. I’ll try and see if the diary has anything else to say about it.”

  The loud shrill cry of a female voice reverberates all around us. Then the very distinct sound of two guys yelling.

  “That’s Gage.” Logan leans in to listen as the shouting intensifies. “I better go see what he’s gotten himself into.”

  We head out of the forest at a decent clip.

  “I’ll go get my clothes,” I say, parting ways with him at the south end of the lake.

  It’s so still here, scary. Even though I can hear the volatile voices from a thousand manic teenagers, it’s freaky being on the dead end of the lake—just me and the moon, an owl sounding off in the distance. I make my way over to the giant rock where Brielle and me left our belongings. It looks like the girls all took off towards the cliffs. Not one soul lingering down at this end of the water, unless of course Brielle drowned them all.

  I pluck through the pile of cheer uniforms and pull my skirt over my kick-pants.

  “Don’t I know you?” A male voice disrupts the silence from behind.

  I turn around and take in a sharp gasp.

  Shit!

  It’s a thing! It’s covered in mud, or crap, or maybe that’s just the texture of its freaking skin?

  “I don’t think so.” The words stutter out of me as I try and make my way around him. I lunge towards the edge of the waterline in an effort to make a break for it, but he snatches me up by the wrist and pulls me in hard.

  He bears his teeth and hisses with an awkward smile.

  Fuck! It’s a Fem.

  “Lo—” It clasps its hand tight over my mouth and drags me backwards into the overgrown brush. I give a swift hard knock to its stomach with my elbow, four or five times, before it clasps both my hands behind my back. Dark slime rubs off all over Logan’s white t-shirt and down my legs, thick as grease.

  It swipes my feet from underneath me and lands itself on top of my chest, hard.

  Can’t breathe! I try pushing it off as it crushes me under the weight of its body. I open my mouth to gasp for air as it impales me with its tongue.

  A warbled scream gets caught in my throat. Instinctually I bite down hard causing it to writhe and twist away. I try to slither out of its slimy grasp as it struggles to restrain me.

  Its eyes glow an eerie shade of yellow as they squint out in pain. I try to harness my anger against Carly, for fuel to fight him like I did when I killed that last Fem, but now that I know she’s somebody’s mother, it doesn’t yield the same effect on me.

  My father’s face brims to the surface.

  I remember the way they accused him of killing those vagrants, the way the Counts had him burn, and I gouge into the Fem’s soft neck with my hands, dig in with my nails, and rip at its flesh, shredding it with my fingers.

  It gurgles and groans beneath me. I can feel my thumbs connecting in the sinews of his body, touch his spinal cord, feel its veins wrap around my fingers like spaghetti. Logan is right, anger magnifies my strength, turns me into a rabid beast, hungry for the blood of this creature.

  Its hands wrap around mine in an effort to pluck me off, but its efforts wane quickly. I’ve honed in my wrath. I want this to be a warning to others like him. I hope they think twice before trying to violate me. Lexy may know how to bind a Fem, but I know how to kill them.

  It falls limp, and I crawl away until I can get back on my feet.

  I dart over towards the voices, now jovial and laughing as though the fight that was breaking out had never happened, as though there weren’t a dead Fem lying fifty feet away. I scan the crowd for Logan and Gage as everybody starts to move down towards the south end of t
he lake to gather their things.

  Michelle backs into me and turns around. She studies my arms as I hold them out like a surgeon prepped for duty.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Her face flickers in disgust. The rose pendant Marshall gave her hangs around her neck from a thin silver chain, catching the sparkle of moonlight like a fractured shard of glass.

  If I were nicer, I’d yank it off her. Judging from the severe dark circles under her eyes, she’s still having Fem terrors in her sleep unlike me who has them right here in the open.

  “Where’s your boyfriend?” I ask searching the vicinity. It wouldn’t entirely surprise me to see Marshall lingering in the crowd somewhere—nude.

  A series of piercing screams erupt from behind.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” the words jackknife through her. She slams hard into my shoulder as she makes her way back into the crowd.

  “Yes, I would,” I whisper as my teeth give way to a hard chatter. Marshall could help me get rid of a dead Fem if I needed him to.

  The crowd drains in the direction of the deceased creature. Another round of cries and gasps erupts.

  Oh crap. Judging by the look of horror on people’s faces he didn’t disappear.

  Logan and Gage emerge from the mass of onlookers gawking at the Fem.

  “Did you see it?” I jog over, fogging up the air with my heavy panting.

  “Shit,” Gage moans as he inspects my bloodied hands. The moonlight bleeds out all color, leaving a dark, glossy, residue on my skin.

  Logan gives a depleted smile.

  Someone in the distance shouts that the paramedics are on their way.

  “They’re going to take the Fem!” My fingers come just shy of covering my lips.

  Logan scoops me into his arms and runs us over to the peak just above the deepest portion of the falls.

  “What’s going on?” I ask. There’s something written on his face, a tension I’m not familiar with.