Ethereal (5 page)

“Oh I’m
so
sorry.” She exaggerates every word.

“Yeah, it was an accident.” Michelle’s venomous voice is filled with sarcasm. They break out in cackles while assisting Lexy to her feet.

“What the fuck,” Kate yells as she helps me up. Natalie and Brielle looked equally pissed.

“You’re bleeding.” Brielle wipes my mouth with her bare hand as a smear of red liquid streaks across her finger.

I run my tongue over my teeth to see if I’ve lost one in the process. I can taste the salt in my blood. It tastes like rust, like I’ve been sucking on old pennies. I lean over and spit repeatedly into the grass.

“You’re so sick!” Lexy reprimands with her hand still flat over her stomach.

“Excuse me,” Brielle pulls back her shoulders. “She almost had her teeth knocked out, you stupid bitch!”

“Who asked you to join the squad anyway?” Lexy continues baring her fangs.

“
I
did.” Brielle takes an aggressive step forward. A small gust of wind pumps up her hair like a lions mane. “You gotta problem with that?”

“Actually,” Michelle steps between the two of them. “We all have a problem with that.” She turns her head towards me, those expressionless black eyes fixated on me with venom. “You think you can move into her house, take her spot on the team, steal her boyfriend and call it a day?”

“If you really want to be like Chloe why don’t you swan dive off Devil’s peak?” Flames shoot out of Emily’s eyes when she says it. But the details are worn. You don’t swan dive then bury yourself in a shallow grave. If she were really Chloe’s friend, she would never have gone there in the first place.

Brielle pushes into Emily’s chest hard with both hands.

“Shit!” Emily screams at top volume, clutching at her chest. She doubles over writhing in pain.
 
“I think you popped an implant.”

“That’s it.” Michelle snaps. “Practice is canceled.”

As Lexy passes me, she gives a hard shove into my shoulder.

“You better watch your back, bitch.”

Chapter Eight

Lust and Things

Brielle takes to me to the nearest ER, and I blatantly refuse to get out of the car. We end up at the bowling alley instead.

I’m beginning to appreciate the aggressive flicker of light as we tunnel inside. I’m already loving how spacious the bowling alley is, and the heavy scent of popcorn that might actually be breeding air born calories.

In less than minutes, Logan pats my cheek with a plastic bag full of crushed ice. He pulls it back intermittently to inspect the damage.

I place my hand over his arm—caress it back and forth until I can hear him clearly.

You’ll
live
. He gives a bleak smile.
Stay away from them. They’re mostly trouble.

They
said
I stole Chloe’s boyfriend. Did I?
I’m shocked by my own audacity.

He gives a gentle laugh.

“What’s so funny? What’s up with all the star gazing and silence?” Brielle looks genuinely worried. “If you die in your sleep because you have a concussion, it’s on your head missy.” She says.

“Points to you for sounding like my mother.” I trail down Logan’s arm and clasp onto his fingers.

Brielle glares at me a moment before excusing herself to the bathroom.

Was it something I said?
I give a sarcastic smile to Logan.

“Look if you guys are going to do this find a booth in the back where people can’t see you.” The disgust in Gage’s voice is palpable. There’s a slight hint of jealousy as he stagers away from the table.

Are you sure Gage can’t do this?
I mean, you are related.
I ask.

 
No. He knows all about it. Wouldn’t take my hand if it meant getting out of a fire. He’s a master of other tricks, far more useless if you ask me.

What do you mean, other tricks? Logan, tell me what this is. Is it some sort of genetic defect? Why can I do this? Why do we have this ability?

His face sours. He pulls his hand away and drops it under the table.

“I want to. Not here though.”

“Why not? Nobody will know. We can do it in secret.”

“Really?” Brielle laughs as she takes a seat, her hand stuffed with a giant wad of tissue. “Why not right here on the table? I don’t think anyone will notice at all.” She cackles just like her mom.

“Not that.” I smart. “Are you OK?” Her eyes are swollen like she’s been crying. All that talk about Chloe did her in. I hate the thought of Brielle upset.

“It’s just hard sometimes.” She looks up at Logan. “We’ve been talking about Chloe and it went from bad to worse.”

“Chloe was a good friend. It’s OK to miss her.”

My chest sinks like a stone when he says her name.

“I know.” Brielle wipes the tears. “She was my buddy, but she had the bad habit of hanging out with Em, Michelle and Lexy. They weren’t always the triune anything. She was the one who tempered them, and now without her they’ve gone feral. It’s like all their wickedness unleashed the second Chloe disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Of course she disappeared. I just never thought of it that way. In my mind it had all happened backwards with her already comfy in her casket.

“She went missing for two weeks. Nobody knows what happened. Coroner says her body was less than twenty-four hours dead when they found her.” She lowers her lashes. “And she had these strange cuts all over.” Brielle gazes out past the lanes, through the walls, and straight into Chloe’s grave.
 

“Cuts? Maybe they were scrapes from branches? Like she was trying to escape.” I offer.

Logan shakes his head.

“They were deep incisions. Some of them were sewn back up.” Brielle’s voice breaks when she says it. “Her mom said it looked barbaric like she was used as some kind of Frankenstein. Somebody tortured her for weeks.” Her voice flattens to a whisper.

“Dear God.” I mouth the words incapable of bringing any volume.

Logan breaks the ice in the bag and shifts its contents. With exaggerated gentleness he places the bag against the corner of my lip.

I had no idea about Chloe. I’m starting to regret ever asking anything. For all I know the killer could have extricated her from our shared bedroom in the middle of the night. They could have a perverse desire to snatch girls from that exact location again and again. I don’t really know anyone here in Paragon that well. For all I know he could be lurking around somewhere right here in the bowling alley—watching me, waiting.
   

For sure I need to give my brain something fresh to gnaw on.

“Listen. If I can convince my parents to have a party will you come?” I give a look of exasperation. It may not be the perfect segue, but it beats ruminating on a killer.

“Of course.” Logan looks a little confused. A party may not be the environment he had in mind to let me in on his big secret.

“I mean just you guys and,” I look over at Brielle. “My brother will be there. Kate and Nat can come. My mom has this thing about my stepbrother meeting people. I know she’ll be OK with it.” Never mind the fact I almost clawed her flesh off this morning. I’m sort of hoping she’s already forgotten all about that incident.

“Sounds good.” Logan picks up my hand.
But we need to be alone—just you and me. That’s when I’ll tell you.

Tell me now, please.

Alone.

Am I going to freak when I hear it?

He doesn’t say anything. Not a single thought sails through his mind.

You don’t think I can handle it, do you?
I ask.

It’s not that I don’t think you can’t handle it. Once you realize who you are, you won’t ever get a chance to go back.

Who am I?

Skyla.

Not funny. I don’t scare easy.

You’re lying.
He gives a bleak smile.

So it’ll frighten me?

It will and it should.

Chapter Nine

Speechless

“And Drake,” I motion over at him sprawled across the sectional. “He could meet all the really important kids who go to Paragon.” I nod to my mother.

Brielle and I have spent the last several minutes building our case for a simple movie night in with friends. Just the sheer heft of how hard it is convincing my mom, you would think we were asking to sacrifice kittens at midnight.

“I’m all for it. I’ll take Tad out for a surprise date and catch the ten o’clock show. Fair enough?”

“What about the girls?” I hadn’t even thought of Mia and Melissa until they walked past us five seconds ago.

“They’ll come with.” She relaxes into the idea.

“Really?” A small squeal of delight escapes.

“We’ve still got boxes everywhere and don’t think it hasn’t gone unnoticed that you haven’t exactly been digging into them.”

“I swear,” I hold my right hand in the air. “I will tackle those boxes Sunday morning.”

“Nice try, but I’m dragging the whole lot of you to church.”

Brielle gives an audible laugh.

“It wouldn’t hurt if you joined us.” Mom offers.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Brielle averts her eyes when my mother’s not looking. Once my mom has a chance to meet Darla, and get to know her, I think she’ll realize they have polarizing parental opinions.
 

My parents used to go to church when my dad was alive. It was mostly something my dad did. I haven’t seen the inside walls of hallowed ground since my mother married the antichrist.
   

“OK, Sunday afternoon. And we won’t make a mess. You’ll see.”

          
                                              
***

“Bitch squad, three o’ clock.” Brielle pushes me into the clearance rack at the mall.

I hadn’t really thought about clothes before, but after ransacking my closet it was clear there was nothing in there Logan worthy to wear tomorrow night.

“Would you stop?” I push her off. “I’m not afraid of them.” I watch as Michelle, Lexy and Emily glide in and turn their noses up at the meager offerings. “If they hate everything so much maybe
they
should jump off Devil’s peak.” A part of me can’t believe I said that out loud. I keep forgetting that comments like that bring up the pain of Chloe’s death. It’s embarrassing how many times I’ve emotionally slit Brielle’s wrists with my tongue and let her bleed with grief. “Sorry.” I whisper as the three of them head in our direction.

“No offense taken.” Brielle pretends to interest herself in an ugly striped sweater.

“So Michelle,” Emily ups the volume of her ultra annoying voice for our benefit. “You give Logan back his sweater yet?”

I look up. It’s like hearing his name inspires some kind of kneejerk reaction in me. And why would she have his sweater? Probably bullshit.

“I haven’t seen him yet. After all, he
just
left it at my house last night.” They break out into a round of howls. The sound of their voices erodes the peace and quiet of the store, fills my ears with its chaffing rhythm. I can tell by their serene expressions that making me miserable offers them a unique brand of nirvana.

Emily boldly makes her way over. Her short dark curls frame her face like a picture I once saw of a mermaid in the book of fairytales my father used to read to me at bedtime. I used to wish I could be like that girl, jump into the water and swim with the fishes, live in that magical underwater world.