Wicked (3 page)

I finger the roll of flesh that runs the length of my neck courtesy of Chloe. It feels as though Chloe is responsible for every single scar in my life, both visible and invisible. I’d take a million physical scars from her if I could go back and stop her from killing my father, or at least giving the orders to do so.

“I’m really sorry,” I bleat out once again. Even if Logan is one of Chloe’s drones I still feel bad for running a piece of broken glass down the side of his face.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, trying to stay still as the needle digs in and out of his flesh, lifting and pulling his skin as though he were made of elastic.

“I gotta get out of here,” I whisper to Gage.

“Let’s go upstairs, or I can take you for a drive.”

“Will you take me to Marshall’s?”

“No.” His eyes swell with disbelief. “I had Brielle tell your mom you were spending the night with her. And, I really don’t think my parents will mind if you stay as long as you sleep downstairs.” He leans into me with a pleading expression. “Stay. I want you to.”

I look over at Logan with his face contorting in pain as Dr. Oliver continues to prod at him mercilessly, and yet I still can’t feel sorry for him. Instead, I resist the urge to go over and start stabbing at him with a scalpel, because my heart feels like it’s just been puréed.

“All done.” Dr. Oliver snips the edge of the remaining thread. “Please refrain from playing with broken glass in the future, even if it was accidental.”

“It was intentional,” I say, under my breath.

Logan wasn’t one hundred percent truthful regarding our little mishap, which is par for the course with Logan.

“I hope you enjoyed the surprise.” Dr. Oliver beams in our direction.

“Yeah.” Gage gives an apprehensive glance before looking over at me.

“Great,” Dr. Oliver nods, “Skyla, the Bishops are dying to meet you. I hope you don’t mind joining us tomorrow evening at their home for dinner. They’re so thankful to you for giving life to their daughter.” He looks over at Gage. “I realize it’s your birthday, but they simply couldn’t reschedule. The Bishops thought it best before the media descends. Perhaps we’ll go out for dessert after?”

Dinner? Didn’t he see me trying to kill her? But then, probably not. She was mobbed with bodies the entire time, and for all I know people could have been trying to strangle her all night. She’s indestructible with that necklace on, she’s worse than a cockroach.

“We’ll be there.” Gage wraps an arm around my waist and nudges into me, as though he’d like for me to agree, but I just give a little smile. I can’t promise anything.

“I hope you’ll excuse me,” Dr. Oliver heads out of the kitchen, “it’s been a long day.”

We each shout goodnight out of turn then just sit there staring at one another as though the planet were about to explode.

“I’m going to need some space,” I say looking up at Gage. If I stay, my anger might percolate, and God forbid I go after Gage with a broken shard of glass, or worse, slaughter the two of them in their sleep and really give Dr. Oliver a project.

“Don’t go,” Gage whispers, bumping his nose into mine.

“It’s not you. I just don’t trust myself. I’m insane right now. I need to clear my head.”

He expels an exasperated sigh. “OK, I’ll take you.”

Logan migrates over with his arms stuffed in his pockets. His face is swollen and bright red, with a glossy row of X’s dripping down his cheek.

I can’t even look at him, so I turn away.

“I’ll find someplace else to sleep tonight,” Logan offers.

My neck whips back in haste. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Alright,” Gage starts us towards the door, “let’s get out of here.”

Logan speeds over and snatches his keys off the counter.

“I’ll drive.”

***

As soon as Logan’s truck pulls alongside Marshall’s entry, I hop out and bolt to the door. I made Gage sit in the middle. There was no way I was going to rub my thigh up against Logan all the way over and let the heat of his body try to lure out any feelings I might have left for him like rattling a coffin full of bones.

I give a series of harsh knocks and ring the doorbell in triplicate before Marshall lets me in.

“I’ve been waiting.” Marshall looks resplendent, still in the same black shirt and jeans from earlier. I swear it smells like he took a bath in cologne. Any minute now I suspect my allergies will kick into overdrive and choke the living hell out of me.

“Sorry,” he holds back the two of them, “neither of you are welcome.” Marshall espouses a level of calm that he seems to reserve for trouble, or Logan and Gage.

I turn in time to see Logan speed through the door with his shoulders back and a pissed off look galvanized on his face. In all honesty it melts me a little to see him this way. Pissed off is probably the hottest look for Logan, and judging by the linear direction our relationship is taking, I’d say he’s pretty lucky that it’s a good look for him.

Logan picks Marshall up and spins him 180 degrees before pitching him hard against the wall a good twelve feet away.

“Holy crap!” I jump back.

Gage walks over to me with a horrified look on his face.

Logan starts in on a series of well-concentrated punches right to the ocular area. He’s rearranging the face of a man who, as far as Logan is concerned, is just his math teacher. In a stupid fit of anger, Logan is going to clue Marshall in on the fact I ratted him out as a Sector. I’ll be bound and gagged and shipped off to the Counts by midnight. Ironically that might be just as harsh a punishment as going home.

“Holy freaking shit!” I scream at Logan. “Get the hell out!” An entire volcano of adrenaline purges through me. I’m not going to stand here and listen to Marshall moan before he obviously gets up and assaults Logan—until the entire place is trashed, and there’s nothing but broken glass and blood covering every square inch like the time Chloe slit my throat.

Before Marshall has the chance to retaliate, I snatch Logan up by the back of the shirt and send him flying across the width of the room like a Frisbee.

It feels so good, I pant from the sheer bliss of watching him smack into the wall.

“Nice work.” Marshall rises and dusts himself off. “But do stay out of this. I rather enjoy hand combat. It’s a rare occasion anyone chooses to go against me.”

Marshall strides over and picks Logan up by the back of the neck and stands him up awkwardly as though he were made of rags. He wastes no time in pummeling Logan’s face—powerful punches that split open his newly sewn incision. His eyes and lips swell almost instantly.

“Enough.” Gage struggles to pluck Marshall off Logan before putting an end to the brawl.

“God!” My hands clamp over my lips. “You could have killed him!”

Well then, you could have replicated your voodoo magic and resurrected him from the dead, Marshall sneers in my direction.

“Very funny,” I say out loud.

Just when it looks as if Logan and Gage are making their way out the door, Marshall’s feet are knocked out from under him, and he lands hard on the floor.

“Shit,” Marshall seethes.

I’ve never heard an expletive fly out of Marshall’s mouth before, like ever, so I know this isn’t going to be good. I almost feel sorry for Logan—almost.

Marshall bounces to his feet in one quick move. He picks Logan up and holds him by the stomach high up over his head.

“Shall I give him a ride?” Marshall looks to me for approval before spinning Logan like a basketball—like a propeller on a freaking beanie. “Do you like amusement parks Mr. Oliver?”

“He’s gonna puke!” I warn. Logan is limp as a corpse. “That’s enough Marshall!” I scream in disbelief.

Marshall flexes on his knees before tossing Logan up in one powerhouse move launching him with his back flat against the vaulted ceiling. “Oh dear, it looks as if you’ve adhered yourself.” Marshall feigns concern as Logan hangs like a fixture, writhing in pain. “The grommets on the back of your jeans must have latched onto the magnetic studs I had the builders use. Magnets are excellent for your overall wellbeing. The therapeutic benefits are innumerous. An hour or two up there, and you’ll be thanking me for the next solid year.” Are you amused Skyla? And in the event you’re wondering, the only magnetic stud in the room is me. He gives a sly smile.

“Get him down,” Gage demands.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Marshall walks over to where Logan dangles from the ceiling. “I won’t hold your erratic behavior against you. I’m aware puppy love has its fair share of undesirable side effects. However, do refrain from attempting to injure me in the future. You may not come off so lucky. I can remove three of your limbs before you realized what’s happened.” I’ve done that twice before. It’s a skill I don’t want to get too rusty at. Somehow I believe I’ll have opportunity to practice again in the very near future.

“How do I get down?” Logan shouts. His face turns a violent shade of red as the blood rushes unnaturally, pooling in the veins around his temple.

“You’ll have to crawl.” Like a roach. “Do be careful. I’d hate for my insurance premium to rise.”

Well, Ms. Messenger, now that I’ve had my testosterone riled up, I’ll be glad to let you reap the benefits.

Perfect.

I’ll need a suit of armor to keep him off me tonight.

Chapter Six

Stranger Danger

Surprisingly there wasn’t a whole lot of blood trailing from the ceiling. Logan jumped down the last ten feet, and then they left.

“I’m going upstairs to shower, you care to join me?” Marshall is intent as though this were a real possibility.

“No thanks.” I plop down on the couch and stare at the splatter of blood dotting the bone colored floor. Count blood. Count and Celestra—a hybrid.

Marshall ditches upstairs at supersonic speeds, creating a suction with his overeager sprint. God only knows what he expects to happen tonight. He’s had some seriously disturbing Sector-Celestra fantasies ever since we’ve met. Now that Chloe is here, I wonder if she’ll be interested in him like I hoped. She’s so emotionally tethered to Gage—my Gage—she can’t see straight. I mean the way she leeched onto him right after giving Logan the attaboy, you would have thought she spent the last year pinning after him in her grave. Speaking of which, I’ll have to ask Marshall where exactly was it that Chloe spent the last twelve months. Was she in some holding tank in hell like Gage was, Halloween night? In Sectorville—pissing off every angel in the celestial sphere? I bet they were glad to give her the boot back down to earth.

A knock erupts on the glass slider that leads towards the backyard, inspiring me to pull my feet up on the couch and curl into a ball of fear.

“Marshall?” I call out.

More intense knocking.

Shit!

Why am I always alone when crap like this happens? I can tell a million miles away this is going to be bad, bad, bad, so I bury my head in my knees and sit there like a turtle hoping it all goes away.

The knocking picks up to a frenetic pace, so I cock my head sideways and take a quick peek.

It’s girl about my age with jet-black hair and a cadaverously pale face. She’s smiling and waving like crazy as if she knows me or something. She does look kind of friendly. I unfurl myself a little bit.

She motions me over, rubbing at her bare arms to keep warm.

It is freezing out there. I should at least let her in. She’s probably Marshall’s eleven-thirty. For all I know he has them arriving at regular intervals all night long. I’ll have to put a do not disturb sign all around the property if I plan on getting any sleep.

I head to the door and slide it open. A harsh wind whips in a few stray leaves as she jumps into the house, and I shut the door behind her.

“You mind if I give you a hug?” She says it sweet enough, but there’s something strange about her that sparks in me the urge to run.

“Yeah sure,” I’m so stupid. This is probably the part where she sticks a spirit sword in my back. I’m going to die getting a hug of all things. But she doesn’t stab me or do anything weird like feel me up. She gives a quick non-lethal embrace and pulls away. She smells sweet and clean, like strong aloe vera.

“So, you’re here for Marshall, right?” I head back over to the couch and take a seat.

“Nope.” She lands next to me and scoots up on her thigh, taking me in like she’s never seen another person before. “Was I any good?” Her eyes sparkle a familiar shade of deep sea blue.

“At what?” She’s super pretty and very strange—a totally dangerous combination.

“You know, the hug. I’ve never done that with a human before.”

“Shit!” I leap off the couch backwards and head for the stairs. “Marshall!”

“Oh no!” She yells over to me and pats her hands in a panic. “Please stop. You don’t know me, but you know my brother.”

Holy crap, it’s Emerson.

I open the front door and shout into the night for Nev.

It takes less than three seconds for Nevermore to fly through the door in all of his midnight splendor. He makes three revolutions around the room before attacking something in the far corner.

She starts in on a giggle. I’ll give her one thing—she’s a happy little spook.

“What do you want?” I head back over feeling a bit more protected now that Nevermore is here. A lot of help Marshall is. I can still hear the water running upstairs. He’s probably busy scrubbing down every orifice of his body in the event I wish to further myself into this newfound insanity.

She points just shy of the piano. “That’s Holden Kragger,” she whispers almost secretively, so Holden won’t hear. “Oh look, the bird’s got him by the hair.” She laughs.

“Sorry I killed your brother. He was sort of a jerk though.” I slide onto the couch just opposite her.

“I’m not too concerned over who you kill, Skyla.” A dimple depresses itself on her right side without the effort of a smile. “I’m here because your mother sent me.”

“My mother? As in my mother the Countess or another mother?” I seem to be collecting them these days.

“The mother who birthed you.”

I scoot in quick as a cheetah and snatch up her wrist. “Who’s my mother?”