Evanescent, Page 2

  I jab my knife against the stone as I crawl to my knees. I need to do something—I need to help.

  The most humane way to kill a beast is by breaking its neck. Death, in and of itself, is sometimes the most sought after respite from suffering.

  I try to stand, but my foot glides in a slick of blood.

  Wes reaches for me, but I give him a violent push in the opposite direction.

  Instead, my blade finds the long velvet necks of each one of those birds as I carry out a decapitating spree that goes on for what feels like hours.

  “Shit, Laken!” Fletch roars in disbelief at the carnage I’ve inflicted. “What the fuck?”

  “They were suffering.” I glance up at the crowd with their hoods pulled back, their eyes locked in horror. I rise to my feet, the blade steady in my hand—blood dripping to my ankles. I latch my gaze over Wes as I try to steady my breathing. “I won’t let anything, or anybody, suffer.”

  Especially not Celestra. Although it’s not their heads I’m after.

  It’s the Counts.

  Cooper

  Henderson Hall is pumping with bodies that gyrate to the over processed bass.

  I push through the crowd, making my way toward the back. All I really want to do is find a nice spot to keep an eye on the door. Laken texted an hour ago and said she was just about to step in the shower—that the slaughter went well.

  I know for a fact it went better than well. I saw the whole thing materialize like some horror movie through a pair of night vision goggles that Flynn let me borrow.

  A soft body rubs against me from behind. I’m guessing its female, equipped with 46 double D’s. A hand emerges from between my legs and cups me with a firm squeeze.

  “Whoa.” I take a solid step forward, and Grayson bounces into my line of vision.

  “Gotcha!” She winks. Her breath washes over me with some serious beer blowback. “Wanna play?” She wraps a finger around one of her lone blonde curls and pulls it through her lips in an effort to get my dick riled up.

  “I’m good.” I swipe a soda off the table in a lame attempt to keep my hands busy.

  “Oh hon, you’re not gonna have any fun with that.” She snatches the can from me and backs me into a wall.

  Crap.

  I sink down a little trying to free myself from her indelicate stronghold as she lands her chest in my face, round and soft like flesh-covered pillows.

  Her lips come in for the kill—then in an unexpected move, she flies back with a jolt and lands flat on the floor.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Laken feigns a look of surprise.

  My entire body loosens when I see her.

  Laken showing up on the scene like some estrogen powered superhero makes my lips curve with a devilish smile.

  “I didn’t see you standing there,” she continues to Grayson. “I just tripped right into you.”

  I try to hold back a laugh. Our eyes lock, and the room disintegrates to a black and white world of shadow and light. Laken brings the color. Laken is water and oxygen, and everything I need to survive, but I don’t tell her that—most likely never will.

  Kresley is quick to the rescue, offering her buddy a hand off the floor as the two of them glower at Laken. Grayson cuts me a look that could smash my balls like a hammer, so I break our gaze and stare out at the crowd for a moment.

  “If you ever get tired of playing with little girls, let me know.” She gravels it out so low it sounds like a threat.

  Kres gets in Laken’s face, and for a second I’m thinking the claws are coming out.

  “I’ll find Wes and send him over.” Kres bites down over her pink lip as she twists into Laken. “I wouldn’t want him to miss his ‘girlfriend’ hitting on another guy.” The two of them stalk off into the crowd. I wish they’d magically disappear. I wish a lot of people would disappear from Ephemeral, and Laken’s “boyfriend” is at the top of the list.

  “That went well.” Laken bats those dark lashes at me. Just one look at those sea glass eyes, and my stomach tightens in a knot. “I mean”—she glances down, holding back a smile—“I really didn’t see her.”

  A silent laugh rumbles through me.

  “And, I’ve got someplace I really ‘don’t mean’ to take you.” I slip my hand low over her waist and walk her backward into the kitchen. Laken smolders into me like she wants this, like she wants us.

  I pull her inside the pantry and secure it shut by way of my shoe.

  “Tell me everything.” I rub my lips over her ear as I whisper the words.

  “Coop.” She buries her face in my chest. “It was horrible. I did the unthinkable— I killed.” She blinks up with tears lining her lashes.

  “It’s okay. You did what you had to.” I let out a breath. “You’re in now. Wes knows he can trust you, that’s all we need.”

  We. My chest rumbles at the thought.

  “There is a we.” Laken says it meekly while stroking the back of my neck with her fingers. “We’re a team remember?”

  “Yes—I do.” I pull her in and take in the scent from her hair. “We’re a team.” But Wes is out there waiting for her, and the Counts have my balls hogtied at the moment. “Homework assignment.” I pull back trying to sound playful, but really I’m getting down to brass tacks. “Tell Wes you’re ready for the next step—that you want to dig in deep. If you’re hungry enough, he won’t deny you.” God knows I wouldn’t.

  Laken presses out a soft smile, her fingers still spinning slowly over the back of my head.

  “I know you wouldn’t deny me anything, Cooper Flanders.” Her breathing grows erratic, she pushes in close as if she’s about to kiss me, but I pull out of reach like the moron I am.

  “Sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t want you to have any feelings of remorse—or guilt around Wes. He’s like an animal. He’ll pick up on it. The last thing we want is for him to put up a wall.” Which is true, but I could’ve said all that crap after she landed her mouth over mine.

  She lets out a little laugh with her chest crushing against me until I feel every flawless curve.

  “That’s what I like best about you, Coop. You’re nothing but a perfect gentleman.” Her porcelain skin glows under the dim light slicing through the pantry.

  I don’t always plan on being a perfect gentleman with Laken, but I don’t say it. And I don’t mind at all if she heard.

  Laken lays her cheek against my chest and closes her eyes a moment. Her hand travels down my spine so achingly slow it takes everything in me not to groan.

  “We’d better get back out there,” she whispers. “I have a feeling it’s time for me to start on that ‘homework.’”

  I peer out the door and find the kitchen empty, so I usher us back out to the party. I let Laken ditch into the crowd a minute before making my way out the carnal gate.

  Fallon has her top off and she’s dancing full throttle in her black lace bra as if Flynn weren’t uploading it to YouTube right this very minute.

  “Coop!” Laken barrels through the crowd and lunges into me.

  “Hey!” I stumble backward before catching my footing. “Can’t get enough, huh?” I grin as I catch her by the waist.

  Her face contorts in horror, her eyes wide with fright.

  “What the hell’s going on?” I pull her in with total disregard as to who might be watching. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  “Laken!” Jen appears and spins her sister out of my arms. “You are amazingly rude. Do you know that? I was right in the middle of introducing you to your new house sister! What’s the matter with you? It’s like your hormones are on overdrive and you can’t control it for one freaking minute. And with Cooper? Really? You have no shame, Laken.” Jen turns to me. “No offense, Coop, but she has a boyfriend.”

  “I’ve been told.” Twice tonight, to be exact.

  I look past Jen at an all too familiar blonde with her hair curled under her ears and a crooked smile that holds more than its fair share of secrets.


  Shit.

  She comes up on us, and Jen pulls her in.

  “Hattie, this is my sister Laken and her friend, Cooper Flanders. Cooper is Ephemeral’s star football player.” She throws in the promo like she’s ready to auction me off to the questionable girl standing before us—questionable because I’m pretty damn sure she’s not human.

  “Hattie Tobias.” Her eyes widen an eerie shade of black, no pupil, just one dark unnatural circle. She shakes Laken’s hand and nods over in my direction as if formal introductions to the dead were a regular occurrence—and knowing Ephemeral, they just might be.

  Jen clears her throat. “It looks like I’m going to score the den mother’s room in the basement.” She beams. “It hasn’t been used in years, but rumor has it, its huge in comparison to the rat-hole they have us trapped in. No offence to Austen House.” She dips when she says it. “Anyway, she’ll be your new roommate as soon I clean it out. In the meantime, she’s bunking with Carter and Fallon.” Jen flips her blonde mane as if to punctuate her point. But I can’t take my eyes off Hattie, haunting us here, live and in the flesh.

  Wesley struts up like he owns the place—like he owns Laken and wraps an arm around her while pressing a kiss against her cheek. He glares over at me a moment before spinning her into him. “You ready to blow this Popsicle stand?”

  “You bet.” Laken looks over at Hattie, filled with suspicion.

  Jen dissolves into the crowd, and an awkward silence crops up in our circle.

  Laken offers a forlorn smile before perking to life again.

  “Catch you later, Coop.” She pulls her cheek back with a dissatisfied look as if she were speaking in code—telling me she’d rather eat a plate full of greasy worms than hang out with Wes Paxton. But I know that’s just wishful thinking. Laken loves Wes—even if I wished she didn’t.

  “Later man.” He socks me in the arm before pulling me in. “There’s a bowlful of condoms under the bathroom sink. Help yourself, bro.” He nods over to Hattie. “Have fun.”

  Have fun.

  I watch as Wes escorts Laken right out the front door. You’d think he were rushing her out of a burning building the way he manhandled her to the exit. He’s partially right. Something is definitely burning between Laken and me, and it’s very damn real.

  “So what are you doing here, Hattie?” I ask my long-dead friend. “And where’s your other half?”

  “Other half?” She cuts her dark eyes over the vicinity. Hattie takes in the modern day teen population as they lose it to the music blaring over the speakers. You would think an orgy were about to break out the way some of the girls just went into full throttle stripper mode. “You want to know why I’m here? Don’t you?” She gives a placid smile as if it were rehearsed, as if she had only heard of the concept, and initiating it took great effort.

  “I’ll bite.” Not Hattie though. You couldn’t pay me to touch my mouth to any part of her body or her evil twin circa 1953. Wes can take his bowlful of condoms and shove them up his ass.

  “I’m here to do what you could never hope to.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Find my family.”

  Wesley

  The stars cloak themselves with a thin veil of fog as Laken and I drive the last leg to Charity Lake. I took my own advice and armed myself with a handful of rubbers. Of course, that was earlier before I ever mentioned it to Coop. Not that I plan on needing a prophylactic defense strategy—quite the opposite. I’m still committed to the fact she should at least be able to remember my name, or that of her father, before we actually employ the services of a penile missile shield. But lately, when I’m around Laken, I want to go there. I’m weak, and if Laken is willing, I don’t stand a chance.

  My mind bounces back to Coop.

  I tighten my hands around the wheel and pretend it’s his neck.

  As soon as I saw Laken run into his arms, I wanted to head over and beat the living shit out of him.

  Laken shifts her body into mine and I pony up a little smile. Laken is a work of art. I can’t blame Coop for admiring her God-given ability to outshine every girl in the room, but it’s another thing to have her running to him like he’s some savior in blue jeans.

  “So anything exciting happen before I got there?” I try to make it sound light, but really I want her to tell me what sent her flying to Flanders like they were magnets you couldn’t pull apart if you tried. And that’s exactly what I’m afraid I’ll discover.

  “There’s a new student.” Laken sits up, and her sweater slips off her shoulder. She didn’t bring a jacket. I promised to keep her plenty warm, but I like the direction her clothes are headed.

  “The blonde?” I try to sound casual. “Coop looked like he was into her.”

  Laken smirks into her reflection.

  Shit. Laken’s the one that’s into him.

  A hot stone settles in the pit of my stomach.

  I’d better cut Flanders out of the conversation before he gets too far into her head. The only thing I want her to focus on is us, as in Laken and me. Just the thought sends a surge of adrenaline through my veins.

  I park as close to the lake as possible and reach for the blanket in the backseat. I come around and help her out, slipping an arm around her waist. I’ve been preparing for an emergency of the sexual variety with Laken ever since we exchanged I love yous. Speaking of which…

  “How’s your memory?” I know for a fact it’s still in the shitter because she couldn’t remember her own father’s name at the meeting tonight.

  “Crappy.” She gives my hand a squeeze. Her honey-colored hair sweeps down her back in waves, soft as silk, and it calls for me to bury myself in it.

  My boxers tick to life, and I hope to God Laken is up for letting me bury myself in places that are specific to her anatomy.

  “Is this our spot?” She dances us over to where the willow trees meet up with the sand.

  “Every spot on the planet is our spot.” I press my lips over hers and keep them there until she pulls away.

  “Speaking of the planet and normal earthly things…” She bites down on her lip as if unsure how to proceed. “That was pretty wild tonight.”

  The slaughter, she carried out, comes back to me in snatches.

  “You were pretty wild tonight.” I lie the blanket down and pull her to the ground with me. Her hair whips over my face in an erotic display of innocence—like a thousand silken leashes. Laken can tether my body with her hair anytime she’d like.

  I have a feeling she’s about to turn this into another slaughter, the one in which I let her sexually decimate me. I give a lazy grin as I roll on top of her.

  “Remind me to never get on your bad side,” I say. “You swing a wicked sickle.”

  “You couldn’t get on my bad side if you tried, Wesley Parker.” She seals it with a kiss, her tongue roaming sweetly over mine until she pulls back, embarrassed by her gaff.

  “I meant, Paxton.” She shakes her head in frustration. “This crazy night has me all mixed up, sorry.” She lets out a breath, and a river of fog escapes from her lips. “I think I’m getting better though. I’ve had some memories of Jen and me when we were little.”

  “Was she pulling your hair?” I brush my lips over her cheek. I’m not all that interested in dragging Jen into our private time, but if it helps her remember, then I say bring it.

  “No, she was trying on clothes. We were shopping at the mall.”

  “Sounds exciting.” I get up on my elbow and admire her like this, with the moon sprinkling down its ethereal benediction over her. Laken is fluid and sparkling in this murky, post midnight, world—a tonic of the gods, the finest champagne.

  She interlaces our fingers and brings my hand to her lips.

  Laken’s coming back to me in pieces—she’s just about there. I don’t see what’s stopping us from taking our relationship to the next level.

  Her mouth rounds out with surprise, and I cover it with my own before another memory of Jen
or, God forbid, Fletch surfaces and deflates my budding hard-on. Fletch would have my balls on a skewer if he knew the moves I was dying to try out with his sister. But this isn’t just anybody’s sister, this is Laken—my Laken. The one I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember. I’ve sunk us in a thousand indecent dreams, and now tonight, after watching her swim through blood like some bona fide Countenance princess, I’m ready and willing to make each one of those fantasies come true.

  Laken lets out a moan as my body writhes over hers. The iced breeze is just enough to give me pause before disrobing us both in a fury.

  “It’s kind of cold, don’t you think?” She blows the words into my ear, and my stomach clenches.

  Shit.

  “You’re right,” I say, doubling the blanket over us, creating a tent that leaves us oven-hot in more ways than one.

  Laken pulls me in by the neck and delivers a mind-blowing kiss that stretches out for mile after hypnotic mile. She wants this, Laken wants me, and the idea sends my testosterone rising. I run my hands up her sweater and glide past her sculpted ribs, stopping just shy of her bra.

  An image of Cooper bounces through her mind and freezes me solid.

  What the fuck?

  “You okay?” I dot her nose with a kiss and examine her through the filtered light.

  Her lips twitch. “Of course I’m okay.” She pulls me back down to a kiss. “I’m with you, so everything is right in the world.”

  God, I hope Coop is getting it on with that girl. The thought thumps through her head, and I don’t mind one bit listening in. The way he keeps hitting on me is really starting to piss me off. I wish he could see me with Wes—see how happy I am with him. I’d mention it to Wes, but I’m not in the mood to ruin the moment with “Coop the Stalker.”

  Coop the Stalker—a dull laugh rattles from my chest.

  Laken and I indulge in a heated liplock that could set the world on fire. I wish it would. I wish the world would burn to ashes if it meant Laken and I never had to let go of one another.

  I’m glad about Coop—glad that Laken isn’t trying to procure him for herself. If she was, I might have to arrange an accident for Flanders—one of the permanent variety.