Wicked (11 page)

“Can you come to me sometime?” The thought of my father in Paragon thrills me.

There’s something more than a forlorn look in his eye. He gives a passing glance at Logan and lingers there a moment before redirecting his solemn gaze.

“There would have been a way,” he says through croaking sorrow. He clears his throat before pressing on. “Two things. Number one, it’s not possible to travel into the future on your own. You need a supervising spirit. And, number two, you need to know where to go.”

“I’ll tell you where to go—heck, I’ll take you,” the offer speeds out of me.

“Neither of you belong in this world right now. You’re time traveling, Skyla. The real you—the one that belongs here is at home oversleeping for school.”

“If the Skyla oversleeping at home knew where to take you, could she?” I think I found my loophole.

“No. She would need a supervising spirit. And, besides that, she may not be able to because the influence is coming from a future source. The only thing you’d accomplish is filling yourself with psychological trauma.” He gives a stern look. “You need to go through the events that have happened, Skyla. They’ll mold and shape you, take you to the destiny that’s been carved out for you since the beginning of time.” He points a finger low against the table. “There is a reason these boundaries are in place, or else a Celestra would never die, we’d simply travel to a more convenient time to live. Promise me you won’t try this.”

“But if the Celestra knew he were going to die, and he had a supervising spirit then he could?” I ask.

“Yes.” It comes out exasperated. “But let me make this very clear to you. If in any way you think letting Sleepy Skyla in on your plan won’t change your destiny, think again. She can never know of you. Once you leave an impression on her,” his hands slice through the air, “the world as you know it is forever altered. Promise me you will never do this.”

My world will be forever altered? Probably in a good way. But I’ll never convince him of that. I would be able to undo everything. I can go and kill Chloe in real time, well, probably get thrown into prison in real time, too.

I know full well I can’t promise. If I made a promise to my father, I’d have to keep it.

“Promise?” He doesn’t let up on the intensity.

I give a half nod. That’s all he’s getting from me.

“OK, start with my mother.” I’m all for changing the subject.

“I met her in high school.” He nods over to Logan and smiles.

My stomach clenches. It makes me want to drive the point home that there’s nothing going on between Logan and me.

“Her name was Candy—Candace. We hit it off right away, and to be honest, I had a gut feeling right from the beginning that this was going to be the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with.”

My entire body cinches. That’s exactly how I felt when I met Logan. There wasn’t an ounce of me that felt otherwise. It was like we had been bound together by some eternal chord right from the beginning. But if I’m going to be marrying Gage—Gage who I absolutely do love, why didn’t I feel that way towards him instead? Anyway, I do now, and that’s all that matters.

“She was amazing.” He shakes his head. “Whenever she walked into the room everybody knew it, and I’m not just talking looks, there was something different about her.”

“Like Skyla,” Logan interjects.

My father appraises him quickly.

“Do I look like her?”

“Mostly. You have quite a bit of me in you, too.” He winks.

“Mia looks like me,” I add. She does now more than ever.

“How is she?”

“She’s good.” I don’t dare tell him she’s converting to Landonhood. I know for a fact she’s supposed to go to the courthouse in a few weeks to start the process of changing her last name.

“I think when I get married I’ll keep my last name,” it comes out sad, uncalled for.

“Messenger-Oliver,” Logan’s cheeks flush with color.

“That’s a mouthful.” My father raises his brows as he sloshes the ice in his glass. “Don’t feel obligated because of me. You’ll always be my daughter, and I’ll always be your dad.”

“My mother—did she burn?”

“She did.” He pushes out a hard breath. “You were three months old, and your grandmother was watching you. I was at work—had just finished grad school and so had Candy, she was interning at a lab doing genetic research, and there was a fire. She was in a high-rise on the twenty-fourth floor, the windows were stationary, and the only exit was blocked from debris that fell during the explosion.”

“Explosion?” I take in a breath.

“Natural gas, something to do with a pipe that was left on.”

“Oh my, God.” My hand flattens over my chest. “So, you think it was the Counts?”

“I know it was the Counts.”

“So, she was a pure Celestra, and so are you.” I say it as a fact.

He shakes his head.

“I’m not pure, not by a long shot. I’m Celestra with a lot of human mixing.”

“Then how can I be pure?”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said she wasn’t human. She’s something called a Caelestis.”

“Oh, I know what that is!” A serious flashback of my trip to Sectorville with Marshall rips through my mind. “They sit on the decision council.”

“You do know.” He straightens. “How do you know?”

“She’s involved with a Sector,” Logan is quick to dispense.

“What?” Dad’s eyes flare with worry.

“It’s not a big deal.” I’m going to strangle Logan for even mentioning Marshall. Didn’t he notice that I artfully left out certain details earlier when I was filling my dad in on everything? Like the fact my faux mother, too, is a Count.

“Sectors are a huge deal,” Dad scolds, “I don’t want you near one, got it?”

“Got it.” I can still feel Marshall’s greedy tongue massaging out my tonsils. I don’t really know how to defend him. “Um, he’s really kind of nice, and he’s super smart, and he could easily be a model.” For a second I envision Marshall sprawled out in his underwear on one of those huge framed posters in Abercrombie, then Logan, then Gage. It’s strange how the mind works. According to Marshall, Gage spends most of his time imagining me without my underwear, and I keep wondering what he looks like with them on. I hope to solve that mystery soon.

“Skyla,” my father leans over takes up my hand, “you have to know he wants something.”

I wonder if it’s Gage or Marshall he’s referring to.

“Like the Caelestis wanted something from you?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer. Just gives a sly smile like I pinned it right on the nose.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Give a Little

Logan and I return to the butterfly room near four-thirty in the morning.

“Thanks for coming with me.” I rub the palms of my hands against my jeans. Just holding his hands to get back here made me explode with heat. The sooner he leaves, the better.

“Will you return the favor sometime?” he asks.

“Where you going? Some big Count convention? You wanna present me yourself?” I’m only half kidding.

“Yeah, something like that.” His eyes avert. “I’m going to see my parents. I’d love for you to meet them. I’m going to ask about my lineage, and I was thinking it might be a good way for you to get the answers you’re looking for.”

“I’m not looking for answers, Logan. I already know you have Count blood. And, yes, I realize that Dr. Oliver said you were close to pure but not like me. What does it really matter? You’ve already made it clear you’re going to renounce yourself as a Celestra to glean info out of their playbook. It doesn’t change the fact I can’t trust you, does it?”

“Why shouldn’t you?” he asks softly as though he were truly puzzled.

“I don’t appreciate people keeping things from me.”

“Gage is keeping something from you.”

“That’s different. It’s not his fault, it’s Chloe’s, and besides, I’m going to get to the bottom of this very quickly. She’s having her I’m-not-dead-after-all party on Saturday, and I have a few methods of extracting information from her.”

“Whatever you’re planning, please don’t do it.” He’s got that look on his face that suggests everything I put my hands on turns to disaster.

“I’m going to implement anything and everything to get my boyfriend back.” A spiral of heat spears through my stomach.

His stony gaze drops to the floor as he considers this.

“I’ll be there if you need me,” he looks uneasy as though he were struggling with something. “I want to prove my loyalty. Gage said there were five remaining Counts that need retribution for the Celestra that were killed.”

“Yes. Gage and I are going after them.”

“You don’t have to.”

“We don’t need you coming with us.” I like the thought of a getaway with Gage—murderous as it might be.

“Then let me do it alone.”

“No.” The thought of Logan going rouge freaks me out a little. A Count on a killing spree is never a good thing.

“Then it looks like we’ll be doing it together,” he says.

I don’t say anything, just match his determination—observe his strong jaw-line as it flexes with anticipation.

“Then it looks like we are.”

***

I text Gage as soon I wake up, but too bad for me because I don’t wake up until well after three in the afternoon, and Chloe’s already tightened the leash. I pull a face as I stare down at his text.

Mall crawl. B over soon as I can shake her.

I give a huff of a laugh. He wants to shake her. I wonder how Chloe would feel if she knew how much Gage loathed her for this. Doesn’t matter. I plan on beating the crap out of her tomorrow night until she fesses up whatever it is she’s threatening him with, or better yet, until she leaves my boyfriend the hell alone. I should cut out a thousand black butterflies and cram them into her locker with a note that reads her days are numbered— that she doesn’t get another cocoon.

There’s a light knock at the door, and Mia steps in.

Her hair’s pulled back, and I notice for the first time that she’s grown a little to where we’re just about the same height. I look over her features in a new light. She wears my father’s face like a mask, and now that I survey her bone structure a little better, her mother is present, too.

I wanted to ask Dad more about my biological mother, like why she came to earth to begin with. Still so much I want to know, but there’s great comfort in the fact I can go back anytime I want, even if he can never come here. I’m pretty sure he has no clue old mom—Mia’s mom, is a Count.

“What’s up?” I ask stretching like a cat.

“I guess growing another person makes you really sleepy.” She circles around my desk and eyes the broken mirror on the vanity. I cut a look over to the window to see if the word body is still visible. A dense coat of fog presses against the glass as though it were fighting its way in. I run my fingers over the window in an effort to deface Holden’s efforts at communication.

“I wouldn’t know. I’m not pregnant.”

“You got rid of it?” She swoops over to me with a mixture of amusement and horror.

“What? No.” I could never do that to Gage’s baby. An image of a tiny newborn with bright blue eyes and an infectious dimpled smile washes through my mind.

God, we’re going to have the cutest kids on the entire freaking planet. I hope they all look exactly like Gage—well, maybe not the girls.

“So do you know who the father is?”

“Shut up.” Leave it to Mia to snap me out of my baby-loving fantasy. “I’m not having a baby.”

“You can deny it all you want, but I found these under your bathroom sink.” She holds out a huge white bottle that I hadn’t noticed she was carrying.

I snatch it from her and examine it. Prenatal vitamins. It’s like Brielle’s trying to frame me or something.

“They’re not mine.”

“Save it, sister.” Her lips draw out in a line. “I hear you got a car for your birthday, and I’ve got places to go.”

“I don’t have my license, and I gave the car back.”

“Well then, you’re stupider than you look.” Her entire person slouches as she perfects a hardened glare.

“It’s like looking in a mirror.” I turn around and start riffling through my drawers hoping she’ll get the hint and disappear.

“You’re going to get that car back and your license all in the same day if you’re smart, or your little secret won’t stay a secret for long. I’ll give you one week.” She leans into me as if to finalize the threat.

“Look, I’m really not having a baby. I don’t care how many clues you stumble upon—you’re a horrible detective. Nancy Drew you are not.”

“When Mom and Dad find out that you’re multiplying behind their back, you’re gonna be in big trouble. You’re going to wish you listened to me.”

There’s no way in hell I’m going to be threatened by my little baby Count of a sister.

“Besides,” she leans in, “I’ll tell Gage I saw you kissing that teacher.” She spears me with a hard look.

Crap.

“No.” She can’t tell Gage. She’s going to ruin everything. “You’re like, pure evil.” I spin her around and shove her into the hall.

“One week, Skyla!”

I slam the door behind her.

“You’ll be sorry!” she shouts.

If she tells Gage, she’ll be the one who’s sorry.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Count Me In

That evening, I call Brielle and ask her to come over. Mom is staying another night at the hospital with Tad, and Gage said he wouldn’t be here until after he showered and changed. At least I know he’s not with Chloe, unless, of course, she’s has him showering with her now. God, the thought of Chloe seeing Gage in his underwear, stabs me with jealousy.

“What’s going on?” Brielle breezes in. Her hair looks muted, darker, and her eyes are slightly glazed over. She crashes on the bed without giving it a second thought.

“You.” I rattle the bottle of vitamins in front of her.

“Oh, thanks, you got a soda lying around?” She takes them from me and unscrews the cap.

“Are you kidding? Mia thinks they’re mine. She thinks I’m the one having a baby.”

“Are you?” She eyes me up and down.

“No. I’m not you. I’m holding out.” Not really, but it sounds better than Gage won’t let me.

“Gee thanks. You really know how to kick someone when they’re down.” She pops a giant orange horse pill and knocks back her head in hopes it’ll go down.