Vex (7 page)

“Merry Christmas! I so missed you!” She falls over me with a hug.

I pluck her off carefully. She’s wearing bright red FMs covered in glitter, and right about now I’m wishing she’d click her heels together and disappear home.

“Are you kidding me?” I screech at her. “You tried to
kill
me. Don’t even try and pull that I don’t know what you’re talking about crap because I am too far gone to play your stupid games.”

A swarm of lavender clouds move swiftly above us. A storm is gearing up to pound our world. I hope it drowns half the residents.

“OK, look,” her features sharpen. “I know we need to talk.”

Talk—kill, the words seem interchangeable here on Paragon.

“I sort of gotta go.” Gage flashes his phone at me.

“Chloe?” I practically gag on her name.

“It’s my mom. I disappeared in the middle of her Christmas cheesecake, and she gets testy about things like that. You wanna come?”

I glance back at the house.

“I would love to come, but my stomach’s all jacked up.” If I puke after eating anything Emma makes, she might excommunicate me from meals forever. “You go ahead. I’ll be OK. But, please, come back.”

“I still need to give you my gift. I’ll call you,” he leans in and kisses my cheek. Gage takes off behind the house to transport himself in private.

“Let’s go inside. It’s freezing.” Brielle rubs her bare arms up and down. “Drake told me about the baby, we can exchange notes.”

“You’re insane. I’m not the one having a baby around here, you are,” I snap.

Her copper highlights accentuate her clear green eyes. She looks more like my mother than I do.

“Please, I really want to get past all this Count, Celestra bullshit. I’ve never bought into it, I swear.” She holds three fingers up as if to testify.

“Fine, we can talk here.” The least I can do is pump her for all the information she’s worth, then again, Counts are prone to lying.

“I can’t. I really have to sit down, these things are killing me.” She lifts a sparkling hoof. “Can we go to your place? My mom’s new boyfriend is over.”

“We sort of have a guest of our own.” I glare at the house as though it were Holden himself.

“Oh, what the hell, we can go up to my room,” she offers, taking me by the hand. “It’s not like you’re going to stab every one of her boyfriends in the gut. Right?”

***

 The thick scent of eggs and bacon permeates Brielle’s house. Come to think of it, that’s all Brielle’s house ever smells like. From floor to ceiling, the place looks wrapped in white and blue toile with touches of pink interspersed. Actually the entire house looks like a nursery—lucky for Brielle because she’s the one who’s actually having a baby.

“Sweetie!” Darla comes toward me at top speed. “You were so dirty last night, I was frightened for you. Are you feeling OK? Brielle told me about the—” she points to my stomach.

“Oh, well, actually—” I start.

A tall, dark haired man comes out of the kitchen examining the label on the back of a whipped cream can.

“Sweetie, I think this expired twelve days ago. I might have to arrest you for negligible refrigeration practices.” He lifts his head with a grin.

It’s him!

Demetri freaking Edinger.

I can’t breathe or move or think.

An amber mosaic vase catches the corner of my eye, and I have a serious flashback of cutting Logan’s face with the Root Beer bottle. Without hesitating I snatch it up with both hands and smash it into the sofa table.

First, I’m taken aback by the initial heft and, second, I’m rather disappointed that it shattered into a million tiny pieces leaving me with twin shards that could hardly illicit a paper cut.

“Stand back!” I shout, hopping up on the couch.

“Shoes!” Darla points hard at the apparent sin I’m committing by having my feet on her furniture, totally disregarding the fact I’ve just turned her vase into confetti.  

“I will cut you, I swear,” I hiss over at him.

His arms fly up, and a thread of whipped cream flies through the air like a thin anemic snake.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” He looks genuinely perplexed.

“You’re what’s going on. I know exactly who you are.”

“Have we met?” He looks indignant as though he truly were clueless as to who I am.

“I’m not buying your bullshit, Demetri. Brielle was there, she knows.” I hiss his name out as though it were vile, which it totally is.

Brielle snatches me by the elbow and pulls me off the couch.

“She’s not feeling so good,” she says, leading me up the stairs.

That’s an understatement.

“Oh, and, Skyla?” Demetri lifts his dark eyes over at me. “I hear you’ve had a lengthy absence,” his words swirl through the air like toxins. “It’s nice to have you back.”

Chapter Eleven

Fear Everyone

I slam shut Brielle’s bedroom door and try sliding the dresser over, but it’s attached to the wall, so I arm myself with a ruler from off her desk.

“What the hell is going on? Is this some kind of trap?” I should have known Brielle’s invitation was nothing more than a set up for a Christmas day slaughter.

“I knew you’d freak. Would you stop already?” Brielle drills the air with her protest.

I go over and lay on the bed trying to stave off tears over the fact that the man who is directly responsible for my father’s death is downstairs enjoying dessert, and my father can’t enjoy a single breath.

“Explain yourself,” I say.

“OK, so I totally didn’t know you were coming to Logan’s initiation that one night. At first, I thought, oh this is cool, Skyla’s here to support her ex, which shows a lot of character, but then I was like, wait, I have the bonding bloodguilt tied to a tree, so what’s up with Logan declaring her as the prize?”

I cut her off. “What’s a bonding bloodguilt?”

“You know, Logan has to capture something and shed its blood as a demonstration of the old him passing away and the new him coming into his own as a Count.”

“Why wasn’t Ellis there?” Then again maybe he was. I wasn’t exactly holding roll call.

“He never goes to stuff like that.” She flicks her wrist in the air.

“So does Ellis know you’re a Count?” Ellis, very distinctly, told me he didn’t know about Brielle, nor did he believe she even knew what a Count was.

“I just found out about him.” She ticks her head to the side.

Great. Now I don’t know who to believe, probably no one—except Gage. Gage is a life raft on rough open seas.

“So anyway,” she continues, “what the hell happened to you? One minute you were there, and the next you disappeared.”

“Did I disappear?” I bite down on a devious smile. “Are you sure the storm didn’t hit at the exact right time, and I didn’t run off into the forest?” I don’t see why I should fess up to everything with Brielle.

Her mouth opens at the epiphany. “So that’s what happened?” She flicks a finger outside the door. “Demetri tried to tell me that, but I wasn’t buying it.”

I examine her fully, for a minute straight.

“Isn’t it strange that he pretended not to know me at first?” I ask.

“You just caught him off guard. Plus your hair was wet that night, and you were running around in pajamas.”

“Dress,” I correct. “I was wearing a dress. So I guess there’s nothing else to do but call the police,” I shrug.

“Police? For what?”

“Demetri Edinger. He came after me with a knife, he tried to kill me.” I recoil in fear.

Her eyes ignite into brilliant sharp flames as she leans over.

“I believe it was Logan who planned to cut you,” Brielle slashes me with her venom. “Death wasn’t on the agenda that night. In case you don’t understand how the bloodguilt works, Logan was about to cast you as an undesirable soul, leaving you forever exempt from all Count rituals. So, if anything, you should write Demetri a thank you for agreeing to play along. But, as far as your blood is concerned, you still hold a giant bull’s eye on the back of your Celestra ass. Or maybe you’d like to defect, like the rest of your crew?”

Logan was trying to save me? I gulp down the thought as I try and shake the image of him hovering over me with a knife out of my brain.

“I won’t be defecting anytime soon,” I say. “I don’t like Demetri Edinger, and I will never thank him for anything as long as I live.”

***

The next day, Mom makes sure to delivery me to Dr. Booth’s office along with a belated Christmas present wrapped in tinfoil.

“Chocolate,” I say, placing it on his desk, dejected.

His forehead rises, creating a series of deep-set wrinkles that can rival those on any Shar Pei puppy.

“I heard you were missing. I’m glad to see you’re OK.” Dr. Booth takes a deep breath and relaxes back into his tufted leather chair. He looks decidedly like everybody’s favorite uncle, the one you know will give you money on Christmas and your birthday, complete with a nice warm hug, but is wise enough to stay out of your business—thus earning himself the title of best relative ever. Unfortunately for me, Dr. Booth is neither my uncle, nor does he stay out of my private affairs because he just so happens to be the shrink Mom and Tad pay in cash to evaluate the fragile state of my being.

This afternoon, he’s wearing a tweed jacket with a bright red dress shirt underneath, topped off with a navy tie. Probably something his wife picked out for Christmas. It makes him look a bit out of character, dressed far more sheik and less geek than usual.

I spill my guts about Logan, the rock of death, and everything that ensued thereafter.

Dr. Booth studies me as though the very answers I was seeking were written across my forehead all along. I smooth the palm of my hands across my jeans just waiting for something profound to espouse from his lips.

“You think Demetri knew you were coming?”

“I don’t know, but I doubt it.”

“The reason I’m asking is the Counts are particular about their ceremonies. In fact, one might say they’re outright meticulous. Shifting gears in the middle of a ritual is rare form.”

“Demetri Edinger killed my father. He doesn’t play by any rules.”

“And what about Logan? Have you spoken with him regarding the incident?”

“No.” Nor do I plan to.

“Has he tried communicating with you?”

If you call jamming his tongue down my throat a form of communication.

“No,” I say, “he hasn’t.”

“It’ll be interesting to see what he has to say for himself.”

I nod.

Oh, it’ll be interesting all right.

If I choose to listen—or believe him. 

***

Days drift by. I sequester myself in my room, unable to sleep and ironically puking daily like it’s some new ritual.

Gage and I spend all of our time in the butterfly room locked in a tangle of limbs, bathing one another in hot ripe kisses.

I like it like this with Gage, free from Holden who’s driving Tad insane with his voracious appetite, free from Demetri who is busy setting up shop in Paragon while taking care of his grandfather’s estate. Rumor has it he’s a foot soldier in the army of Paragon’s finest. Apparently that’s how Demetri stays one step ahead of the law. He is the law. Can’t wait to see him roaming the streets wielding a gun of all things.

“So, tell me what happened while I was away.” I lean into his chest.

“That day you disappeared, when the bell rang and class was over, I tried to catch up with you in the hall. I wanted to know what went on with Dudley after Chloe’s outburst. Anyway, I kept calling you, and you wouldn’t turn around.”

Just knowing that a Fem took my place creeps me out.

“Did she look like me?”

“Identical. When I finally caught up to her, she looked right through me. I knew something wasn’t right. She didn’t say anything just went into the girl’s gym, never came out. When school was over, Logan and I combed through that entire building.”

“I was with Marshall. He took me to a field and told me to run while he shot arrows all around me. I think I’ll be OK as long as Chloe doesn’t ask anymore stupid questions.”

“I was more than pissed off at her. She came over to the bowling alley the next day and I just lost it. I told her off,” he lets out a heavy sigh. “I’ve never told off a girl before and, to tell the truth, I still don’t see her as one—more like a monster.”

“I second that.”

“Anyway, the night of the blood bonding, Logan came home, told me what happened. He said you disappeared before he could, you know, cut you,” the last few words come out barely audible. “Logan wants to talk to you,” Gage growls the words right into my ear.

“No,” I don’t even hesitate.

“He’ll be there tonight.”

Ellis is having a get together later, and to be honest, I’d rather not go.

“Well, then, I’d hate for him to accidentally drown in the pool.” Who am I kidding? I can’t kill Logan. Gage prophesied he’d live to be a ripe old age, like me. Maybe I should work harder at disfiguring him. “Why doesn’t Chloe like him?” I lament. “I’m so sick of all her blackmail, it’s emotionally draining. If only Chloe had a secret. We could blackmail her.”

“She does.” A male voice emanates from below. Holden pops up sporting his new Landon disguise and forces me deeper into Gage’s arms.

“Yeah?” Gage isn’t even fazed by the fact Holden is crawling into the butterfly room. “What’s her secret?”

“I don’t know.” He runs his fingers through his hair while spearing me with contempt. “You could have at least got me a halfway decent body,” he scoffs, inspecting his pale, thin arms.  

“Why don’t I kill you again and we can start from scratch,” I suggest.

“You’re not funny.”

“And you’re not Ethan,” I quip.

“Look,” he barks above a whisper, “I’m friggin sorry about what happened that night at the falls. Trust me, nobody is more sorry than me that I ever laid eyes on you. And besides,” he softens with the look of a clear agenda written across his face, “if we’re going to live under the same roof and have the same enemies, we might as well be friends.”

Friends? This should be good.

“Tad is your enemy?” I wouldn’t even go that far in describing my decrepit relationship with my stepfather.