Evanescent (18 page)

“Nope.” He shakes his head. The anemic smile
on his face expands ever so slightly.

“Who was it?” Coop is insistent on joining
in on the battle. “Someone from Ephemeral?”

“No.” Wes looks down, defeated. “It was
nothing. I probably had it coming.” He digs his palm into his eye,
looking far more tired than injured. “Look, it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal?” Kresley gags on her words.
“What if they come back? That’s it—I’m calling the cops.” She whips
out her phone and starts in on a dialing spree.

“I said,
no.
” Wes roars, inspiring
her to drop the phone into her purse.

“Knew it,” she seethes. “You’re protecting
this little slut, and now she’s almost got you killed. One day
you’re going to wake up and realize you let the best thing that
ever happened to you walk out that door. And you know what?” Her
chest expands like a wall. Her clear green eyes are dull as sea
glass. “I’ll still be there for you, Wesley. Laken is nothing but a
blister on our relationship.” She storms out of the room, creating
a whirlwind with her exit.

A
blister
? That’s what she’s
relegated me to?

I can’t stand Kresley and her drama-mama
ways. I don’t think I’ve hated a single soul in my life, but I have
a serious disdain for Kresley Fisher.

I slip my fingers away from Wes a
moment.

If anyone is a blister, it’s the Counts.

Wes gropes for my hand again, so I give
it.

“Who was it, man?” Coop tries coaxing the
answer out of him. “I’ll help you pay them a visit.”

I wonder how much of this is real and how
much of this is strategy.

That’s what I’m wondering
, Wes says
to himself as he takes in Coop.

I swallow hard, looking down at our
conjoined fingers.

“It’s no one you know.” Wes relaxes his head
over his pillow and sinks into the downed cushion.
It’s
not like I’m going to tell them I’ve just had my ass kicked by
two pussies from the future
.

Why in God’s name would anyone want to do
this to Wes? I squeeze his hand as if demanding an answer.

Shit. It’s killing Laken.
He glances
up at Cooper.
It’s easy for someone like Coop. I bet he makes
her feel all safe and cozy, no fucked up secrets, not one kernel of
dishonesty floating around between them
. He closes his eyes
briefly.
I can’t do this anymore. It’s either tell her
everything or cut her loose. Maybe I do belong with Kres. Maybe
Laken would be better off with someone like Coop.

My insides line with lead. I could feel the
weight of all of Ephemeral crushing over my chest as tears flood my
vision.

I lie down gently next to Wes and let loose
the wild torrent that’s been waiting to unleash since the day I
first arrived on campus.

“I’ll wait outside.” Coop leaves the room,
and I can feel the void in his wake.

Wes runs his fingers through the back of my
hair in smooth, slow circles. It’s as if the room, the school—the
state dissolves to nothing, and we’re right back in Kansas.

Right back in Kansas
, Wes muses.
God I wish it were all true
—
the two of us having simpler
lives to escape to
.
I’d give anything for it to not be so
damn complicated.

Homecoming.

Friday afternoon, the sky unleashes an
outburst of aggression, driving down its fury in vats right over
Ephemeral’s football field. We’re playing our crosstown rivals,
Rycroft. In a way, I’m glad it wasn’t anyone from Rycroft who beat
Wesley to a pulp. I’d hate to be responsible for anyone hurting
him—nearly
killing
him. Although, I’m not entirely sure I’m
absolved of causing the disaster either. I have no idea what he
meant by people from the future. It all sounded a little too sci-fi
to me. Coop seems to think it has to do with his blood sucking
side-hobby. And, injuries be damned, Wes swore he’d still be my
date for homecoming. Although, wisely he decided to ditch the
action on the grid—rain started during halftime and never let
up.

The game goes on through the downpour. The
field turns into soupy terrain while the rest of the cheerleaders
and I hop around with clear plastic ponchos. It’s the last few
moments of the final quarter. Jen says they would have canceled if
the game started out this way, but there’s no point in turning back
now.

“Miles is looking at you.” Carter hooks her
elbow into mine and spins me in a circle. She jumps in a huge
puddle, sending a wall of water up my skirt, and my numb legs
flinch at the glacial surprise.

“Who cares. I bet he looks at all the girls.
He’s a biological malfunction with a permanent hard-on in his
jeans.” I say, scouring the crowd for Pearl. I told her she could
watch the game, but she needed to stay put. Jen was less than
impressed that “a defector from Alcott” was seeking shelter in my
room. I think she’d be even less impressed if she knew how long ago
she defected, or more to the point, was plucked off campus by the
body snatchers. But I don’t see any sign of Pearl. It’s nothing but
a sea of black umbrellas.

The rain lets up just enough as the final
whistle sounds. Fourteen to eight, Ephemeral takes the victory.

The football team streamlines in our
direction. It’s wall-to-wall shoulder pads as people make their way
to the gym.

Warm fingers touch down over mine, low by my
thigh, and I clasp around them.

Good game. Looks like you’re the hero
tonight
. I give an impish grin as I look away.

I wasn’t really paying attention to the
game.
Cooper cinches our fingers.
They should outlaw your
moves, Laken. I nearly got taken out twice because of those
hips
. He gives a firm squeeze as the crowd starts to dwindle.
I talked to my dad about some of these bizarre coincidences. He
seems to think we should look closer at Hattie. Can you get some
hair and tissue samples? He’ll run a panel, and hopefully we’ll get
to the bottom of what she’s made of.

I’ll do my best
. I start to walk
away.
I’ll see you tonight
.

Hey, Laken? I just want you to know that if
I could have asked you to the dance, I would’ve.

I look over at him, and our eyes lock. A sea
of people pass between us as my fingers return to my side.

I mouth a simple
thank you
before
heading to the gym.

It’s time to get ready for homecoming—for
Wes.

“
Laken
.” My name echoes from the
field. I glance through the hazy drizzle, but nothing catches my
eye.

“
Laken
.” A sharp voice hisses from
behind, and I pivot on my heels.

The crowd moves every which way like an army
of disorganized ants.

Strange. I don’t see anybody.

I glance back toward the field, and a scream
gets bottled in my throat.

The Tobias sisters flash like holograms
before me, their sickly thin frames, their severely balding scalps
scratch against the dismal backdrop, vying for my attention. The
one on the right grasps onto her sister’s hair, engaging in violent
tugs, twisting and jerking. She labors until her sister’s head
spins unnaturally before popping right off as if she extracted a
plant from the ground, nothing but bloody roots dangling below.

I clap my hand over my chest and take a step
back.

“Shit.”

“Laken!” Hattie blinks forward until she’s
in front of me with her emaciated features, her stained teeth.
“Pearl Montagne lives.” She hisses it in my face as if it were the
vilest truth. “Find my family. You have seven days”—she shoves the
decapitated cranium in my direction—“or you’re next.”

Amelia blinks up at me with a thin smile on
her lips, blood oozing from her nose. I knock the ball of teeth and
hair out of my way like I were serving a volleyball.

“You bitch!” She says it soft yet shocked as
hell that I had the nerve to chuck her sister’s head into the
crowd.

I snatch her by the muslin sheath she’s
wrapped in and lift her into the air. Hattie is solid as if she
were real, not some figment of my psychotic imagination.

“Don’t you threaten me,” I seethe. “I have
enough bullshit to deal with right now. I’ll find your damn family
and send them to the reanimation station in time for the fucking
holidays. Why don’t you make this worth my effort and lead me to
the tunnels, so I can at least see mine.”

“When my family heals.” Her frame dissolves
beneath my fingers and soon I’m grasping nothing but air.

“Laken!” I spin around fully expecting to
find the twisted Tobias sisters disemboweling one another for
sport, but it’s Pearl with a vaguely familiar boy in tow.
“
Miles
, just asked me to the dance!” Pearl hops up and down
as the rain starts in on something a little more severe than a
drizzle.

I glance at the tall boy with broad
shoulders and a self-serving grin. That’s right. I remember now.
He’s my supposed ex-boyfriend.

“Pearl”—I shake my head—“I don’t think you
should be dating people you hardly know.”

“My mother would say the exact same thing.”
Her blue eyes beam like lanterns—the devious undertones, rife with
sexual implications.

Why in the hell does everything make her so
damn happy? What was in that resurrection formula anyway?
Opium?

She belts out a laugh right in my face.
“You’re not my mother are you?” She hops over to Miles and slings
her arms over his neck. His dark brows rise in my direction as if
this whole stunt were meant to drive me insane. “Looks like I’ve
got a date for homecoming.” She brushes her lips over his neck and
sinks her hand up his soaking wet shirt.

“Don’t worry, Laken,” he says. “You know
I’ll always save a dance for you.”

Pearl dips her knees in amazement. “He’s
going to dance with
both
of us!”

That’s not all he’d like to do with the both
of us.

Clearly Pearl is a danger to herself and
others. There’s no way I’m letting her out of my sight at that
dance.

But first, I need to pay a visit to my least
favorite faux Tobias sister.

It’s time to play the DNA game.

Coop

Hours after the game, the skies have
miraculously cleared, giving me a window of opportunity to park
before heading into the Trinity Country Club.

Grayson leans in toward me, her boobs ready
and willing to bounce out of her low cut dress—hell, it’s high cut
too if you count the way its hugging her bottom. Doesn’t leave much
to the imagination not that I haven’t seen her naked. One more
hairpin-turn and she would have spilled all over the dash like a
pair of flesh-covered beach balls.

“I’m not that mad at you anymore for not
renting a limo.” She crosses her arms and pouts as if she is still
very much pissed over the non-luxury transport. Grayson filled me
in on the fact she sunk two wine coolers earlier, and judging by
the blowback, every time she opens her mouth, I’d say she gave a
conservative number.

“I’m really sorry about that.” For the
fucking thousandth time. “I just couldn’t swing it this time.”
Which is true but even if I could, who the hell wants to give up
five hundred dollars for the night when I’ve got a perfectly good
truck that’s paid for? Grayson, that’s who.

“
This time
?” She catches her breath
while sweeping me with a wide-eyed look of wrongful anticipation.
“Cooper Flanders, did you just ask me to prom?”

Shit.

I give a weak smile as I bypass the valet
parking and find a spot deep in the lot.

She unbuckles her seatbelt and dives over me
in one svelte move. Her hands glide around my shirt with the ease
of a greased snake. Her head dives down toward my crotch like she’s
about to bob for apples.

“
Whoa
.” I slip out the door and go
around to get her. Something tells me it’s going to be a long, long
night.

We start making our way down the lot, and an
eerie feeling like I’m being watched encompasses me. I glance back.
A reflection on the rear window of the truck catches my
attention.

Grayson blabbers on about color coordination
and prom, but I pause for a minute and narrow my gaze on the
ever-increasing image appearing over the blackened glass. It’s
moving. A sea of football players emerge before it zeros in on
Laken and me. That’s today at the game. It zooms in again and
focuses on our fingers touching.

“Come on, Coop!” Grayson’s ankle buckles as
she struggles to reach me. “Shit,” she hisses, righting
herself.

“You okay?” I go over and thread my arm in
hers.

“I’m always okay with you around. Now, let’s
show off some moves.” She lets out a few raucous woops and drags me
along.

I glance back at the truck, and the glass is
restored, black as midnight. Looks like someone else is showing off
a few moves tonight as well. Whoever took those strange pictures of
Laken and I a few weeks back is up to their photographic pranks
again. Only, I don’t think it’s a who, I very much believe it’s a
what, and I for damn sure know when. That image was only a few
hours stale.