Wicked (24 page)

“There were no candles. We didn’t start a fire,” I say to Mom. Some part of me still wants her to believe me.

Gage leans back, places his arm up over his head and closes his eyes as though the drama were too much for him right now.

“I want her on birth control,” Tad barks before storming out of the room.

“I don’t need birth control.” I meant to say it to my mother, but instead I scowl over at Gage. It’s not my fault his moral compass suggests we wait.

“Tad is being discharged.” Mom pulls a pair of gloves from out of her pocket. “I’ll be back in five minutes to take you home.” She disappears into the hall.

“What was the name on the tank?” I ask Gage without missing a beat.

His groggy eyes look back at me like twin blue stars.

“Ethan Landon.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

Somebody’s Watching Me

Even though Gage was discharged the next morning, Emma insisted he stay home from school—probably doesn’t want him anywhere near me. I bet she refers to me in horrible nicknames like Messenger-the-menace, or Scary-Skyla—Skanky-Skyla.

Marshall calls me over to his desk after class.

Chloe collects her things extra slow, assuring she’s the last one to leave the room. She blows me a kiss on the way out the door. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such an intense level of hatred for anyone before.

“She’s quite enamored with you.” Marshall doesn’t look amused.

“The only reason she wanted to come back was to steal Gage.”

“Sometimes, Ms. Messenger, things aren’t what they seem.” He scoops off the mess of paper on the surface of his desk and tosses it in his briefcase haphazard.

“You have plans for winter break?” I ask out of boredom. West gives three weeks off plus an entire week after as ski week. That’s one, long, bliss-filled month.

“Shall I incite your mother to invite me over, Christmas Eve?”

“Will you play Santa?” I ask almost seductively. Maybe I can seduce Marshall into helping me kill Chloe.

His face relaxes, and he gives me those bedroom eyes. Marshall is far better at being seductive than I could ever hope to be.

“What are you after?” He looks me up and down with an appropriate amount of suspicion.

“Tell me about my mother.” That’s not really what I’m after, but it’ll do for now. “She sends a dead girl to give me nebulous messages. Is my mother a coward?”

“I’ve already warned you not to slander celestial beings—your mother is at the very top of the list. Trust me, that is one woman you don’t want to infuriate.”

“Have you infuriated my mother?” The idea fascinates me.

“She’s less than pleased with me attempting to procreate with her daughter.”

That makes two of us. “She can find comfort in the fact it’s not going to happen. Marshall? If I wanted to travel into the future I’m going to need a supervising spirit. Do you think she’d want to supervise me?”

“It’s not as easy as picking a spirit out of the crowd. It involves great sacrifice on the spirit’s part. But that’s a conversation for another day.”

He lifts my chin with his finger, draws me towards him as though it were a dare.

“Something is going to happen between us, Skyla,” it comes out melodic like poetry embedded in that euphoric feeling he’s emanating—hot, like a pleasure filled brand.

“What was that vision you gave me?” I wanted to say I could never look so radiant, but those were the only words I could afford without gasping for air.

“That’s how I see you.” His breath pours over me warm and soft. “Would you like another?”

“No—none of them were worthy.”

“You might feel different about this one.”

He dives down with an intense wild kiss. Marshall is starved for physical attention, parched for something far more than I’ll ever be willing to give him.

I see it. It’s me, walking down a long white aisle with flower petals at my feet. There’s a man waiting for me at the end, he turns around.

It’s Logan.

***

At lunch, Ellis and I watch with disdain as Chloe struts over flanked by the bitch squad.

“I hear your boyfriend’s going to be OK,” I say to Chloe with a half smile. I like the thought of beating Chloe at her own game.

“My boyfriend?” Her eyes cut across me with caution.

“Yeah,” I sling an arm around Ellis. “I’m with Ellis now.”

She gives a long exasperated blink and drags me towards the English building like she owns me, which she does, at least until I kill her again.

I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, she says, but I’m getting really tired of hearing stories of you and Gage fucking on the beach, fucking in the forest.

“What?” I hiss. If there are stories of me and Gage doing anything that remotely resembles fucking I sure as hell want to hear about it—oh wait.

“How did you know about the beach? The forest?” I snatch my arm back. We certainly weren’t fucking, but I like the fire it’s ignited in her, so I really don’t mind her thinking it. Judging by her seething anger, her heart is corroding at the thought of Gage touching me—wanting me that way.

“Call it an inkling.” Her head twitches. “Let me lay down some ground rules. Hands off, keep your legs to yourself. I’m sure there’s a nice steel bed with your name on it, and the Counts would love to have you fill it. Do you know what they do to Celestra like you? They milk you for blood. Rumor is, Pierce wants to have your baby. I hear the thought just kills your dear sweet friend Nat—so much so, she now has a vested interest in your capture, herself.”

I swallow hard.

“Would you like me to take care of Nat for you Skyla? I’d do anything for a friend.” Her dark eyes gleam at the thought. Chloe is a bubbling poison just waiting to spew out and cover the world in her toxin.

“No. Never mind Nat.” The last thing I need is Chloe killing her and pinning me for Nat’s death. Chloe’s just that twisted, I can smell her insanity a mile away.

“Brielle is having a party tomorrow night.” She washes over me with those warped lenses and takes up my hand. Gage and I are going as a couple. I suggest you do the same, but it won’t be with Ellis. She digs into me with a satisfied smile. I have another boyfriend in mind for you—our friend, the Sector. That’s right, I saw the two of you feasting on one another’s tongues. This eye you gave me? It really does see through walls. Besides, pissing off Michelle is one of my favorite pastimes. The bell rings, and she takes off.

I have news for Chloe. I can’t wait to see how helpful that necklace will be while I carve my initials into her chest with the spirit sword tomorrow night.

And I’ll be sure to bring my new boyfriend, Marshall.

Once I’m through with her, he can take her straight to hell.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Baby You Can Drive My Car

Gage insists that I keep my appointment at the DMV.

Logan offers to drive me over in the Mustang. I run my fingers over the dry and cracking dashboard, fidget with the old school dials on the radio until I find a familiar song and let it bleed from of the speakers. I can’t wait to have this as my very own car.

“What am I going to do about insurance?”

“You have a job,” Logan says, pulling into the DMV.

“Yeah, well, it’s not turning out to be so lucrative.”

“I’ll front you the money. You can pay me back.”

“Like a loan?”

“Like a loan.”

“Deal.” I should probably ask for terms or something, but I’m so excited to finally have my own car, I can’t wait.

The fog lays thick over Paragon at this late hour in the afternoon. It seeps in through the opened door and cloaks Logan in mystery.

I don’t really know what that vision of Marshall’s meant. If I didn’t already know I was marrying Gage I would have thought it was a wedding—our wedding—Logan and me.

He wore his familiar smile, but I couldn’t really make anything else out. I walked a small eternity down a white aisle with what looked like flower petals at my feet.

My heart races at the thought. Maybe I’m accidentally going to marry Logan? Or maybe we’ll be in a play? Or he’s the best man at my wedding with Gage? Or worse, I marry them both. Good God, I’m going to be a polygamist! We’ll have a reality show and twelve kids, and I’ll have to support us all by modeling online in the nude—only no one will want to see me in the nude after twelve kids, not even Logan or Gage.

“You OK?” Logan shifts in his seat to get a better look at me.

“Yeah, I’m OK,” I say, getting out of the car. Of course that was another lie. I’ve honed my skills on the art of lying.

I slam the door and head into the DMV. Let’s see if I can hone my skills on the art of pretending to know how to drive.

***

OK, so I shouldn’t be too surprised that I didn’t pass my drivers test. It was like the forces of nature showed up and practically rammed me off the road—what with the wall of fog and vat of rain, the bionic windstorm that came out of nowhere. And I honestly don’t remember that curve being there. All I have to say is thank you to the small tree that spared me from sailing down a steep embankment, which totally had instant death written all over it. Well, the administrator’s death, not mine. I probably would have been vegging out, quite literally, in a hospital room for the next fifty years.

Logan drives me back to the Oliver’s home, and we hang out with Gage who’s convalescing on his bed, watching TV.

I crawl up next to him and wrap my arms around his waist. He’s scrubbed clean and well rested, even though every now and again his chest rumbles with a tiny cough.

“So Chloe decided who my next boyfriend will be,” I say plucking at a stray fiber on his shirt.

“Me?” Logan asks with more curiosity than hope.

“No, Dudley,” I say.

An alarming silence hacks through the air.

“No way.” There’s a fresh rage in Logan. “I can’t stand the thought of him touching you.”

An image of Marshall sealing his lips over mine flashes through my mind.

“It’s sort of a good thing,” I say as the two of them snap their necks in my direction. “I mean he’s faculty, right? It’s not like she expects me to be seen with him in public or anything. It has to be a secret relationship. This is never going to be a big deal.”

Their expressions soften as they consider this.

I let out a long drawn out breath.

Something tells me it’s going to be a very, very, big freaking deal.

***

Back at home, fast food bags clutter up the Landon kitchen, and this shocks me because the last thing my fake family believes in is fast food.

“What’s up?” I ask plucking out a burger and fries.

“Tad and I are leaving in the morning.” Mom blushes like a schoolgirl. “The workup is done over a two day period, so we won’t be back until sometime in the afternoon, Monday. Will you watch the house?” she asks, pulling out a stack of paper plates from the pantry.

“Yes.”

Tad balks as he makes his way over, still purple and bruised. I’m starting to wonder if being inseminated is her preference. Tad looks like a villain straight out of a comic book. And since we’re usually diabolically opposed, maybe I can be the super hero? Super Skyla? Sounds totally, meh. Maybe, medieval Messenger? Or how about the Angel of Annihilation? Speaking of names, I wonder how far Tad would jump out of his skin if I uttered the name, Ethan Landon. I guess I should ask someone far less volatile like Drake or Melissa.

Drake wanders in and it’s not until he sits beside me at the bar that I notice Emily strutting in behind him.

“Everyone—this is my new girlfriend,” he offers.

My jaw goes slack. Instinctively, I want to knock Drake off the barstool for being such an ass to Brielle and simultaneously thrust a napkin at Emily and ask her to draw me a picture, but resist the urge.

Mom and Tad wander over from the kitchen and stare at her like she’s a curiosity.

“So you’re a cheerleader just like Skyla!” The way my mother squeals, you would think we were the only two cheerleaders on the planet.

“Just like Brielle,” I shoot a look over to Drake.

The air grows cold as Emily rolls her eyes to the ends of the earth.

“You’ll have to excuse my stepdaughter,” Tad starts.

I cut him off before he can fire off the zinger. “Yes, please excuse me,” I say, leaving the kitchen.

I bump into Mia in the hall.

“I don’t see your car parked out front.” She sets her foot out in defiance.

“I failed the test. But it’s not like I didn’t try.”

“Fine.” She shrugs. “Just have your boyfriend drop me off on my date tomorrow night.”

“No, Gage is not playing taxi.” Unless you’re Chloe. “Besides, you should invite him over here, and you guys can watch a movie or something.” And I can totally keep an eye on this creep.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“You’re the best sister ever.” She bites down on her lip. “But you know who won’t think so? Melissa. She’ll be all alone and bored out of her skin. I think I’ll invite a few friends to keep her company.”

“Mia, no.” I zero in on that mischievous look in her eye, and I am acutely aware of the fact she means more than a couple of friends.

“You can’t tell me no.” She plucks the phone from her pocket and waves it in my face. An image of me kissing Marshall burns on the screen. “Just give me one good reason, and I’ll email this to everyone at West. I have the entire student directory downloaded and ready to go.”

I’ve never hit Mia, but I have the sudden intense desire to insanely beat the shit out of her.

“Just a few friends,” I hiss, making my way past her.

She’s so damn wicked it makes me wonder if Holden already has a body.

Chapter Fifty

Falling in Line

From across street, in the thick of night, the house looks docile—almost fragile. But I can hear and feel the faint sound of bass trembling beneath me while rows and rows of cars are parked haywire all up and down our street.

Clearly this is a recipe for a boisterous, balls out, call the cops because things are getting out of hand, wild disaster of a party. The air is rife with rampant teenage hormones of both the middle and high school variety. The cars aren’t all here for the party at my house, it’s the West slash East, it’s almost winter break bash Brielle is throwing that has them coming by the dozens.