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  “If you really believe Gage is innocent, then I do, too.” She strokes back my hair.

  My mother would acquit him of my own murder—she’s that in love with Gage. Then again, so am I.

  “I do.” I’d hate for there to be weirdness around us next time he comes over. Plus I’m going to be connected with Gage for the rest of my life. The thought warms me and yet saddens me for Logan.

  “You know, your father and I weren’t always perfect.” She hitches her long bangs behind her ears. “Don’t get me wrong, there was never infidelity involved,” her hand flares in protest, “but we loved each other very much.” She stares out the window reaching for him in the recesses of her memory. “He had this way of cocking his head to the side and looking at me with his eyes kind of like this…” She demonstrates by looking seductive and puzzled at the same time. “He used to drive me crazy with hogging the remote and leaving the cap off the toothpaste, but once he was gone I missed everything about him—I wanted all of it back.” She gives a hard sniffle. “Anyway—don’t throw Gage away because of something that was probably innocent. He really does seem like a nice kid.” Her glassy eyes sparkle with affection. “Sort of like you.” She tousles my hair making me feel all of about twelve. “You haven’t sent any invitations out have you?” Her voice is low and garbled as though it was the last thing in the world she wanted to ask.

  “No,” I say sharply. Although, I thought I had one sent to me.

  “Good.” She slaps my leg. “I was worried for a second. Sometimes sex can change things.” She glances over to the broken mirror. “And try not to destroy things when you’re angry at your boyfriend.”

  She gets up and says goodnight before closing the door.

  I can’t imagine sex changing things between Gage and me, not in a bad way at least.

  I settle back into my pillow and think about it. Think about what it might be like afterwards, like the next day, or at school after we’ve totally gifted ourselves to one another. A part of me thinks it would only make us feel closer, take our relationship to some magical nirvana-like level. Another part of me wonders if it’ll be strange and awkward. Will we feel pressured to do it all the time, and what if we don’t? What if I’m not enough for Gage, and he wishes he could leave me and be with someone else? I don’t really believe that last part. If anything is true in this world it’s that Gage will love me to the grave and beyond.

  The piece of paper he gave me as a birthday gift still lies folded next to my alarm clock. I reach over and snatch it up. I wish Gage were here to read it to me. I would love to soak in his smooth voice, watch the words tumble from his lips as he expressed exactly how he feels.

  I unfold it and take in the familiar penmanship that strokes across the page. Gage wrote this with his own hand. I trace the words with the pads of my fingertips.

  Skyla,

  Farther down the road I see you,

  a heart that measures in time with mine.

  We breathe the air of a world forgiven.

  Spin on this planet, once thought divine.

  I’ll stand beside you until I am driven,

  into the light so brilliant—into the light sublime.

  I read it five times without stopping. It brings tears to my eyes. In six short lines, Gage managed to encapsulate the span of our entire lives together. A heart that measures in time with mine—that verse burns itself into my memory, sears my soul with my love for him. Moment’s that haven’t even happened yet, he’s defined so eloquently, so full of beauty and grace.

  How stupid am I to sit here welling up with tears while Chloe is out pawing all over my man?

  I snatch off the covers and head to the closet for a quick change.

  There’s no way in hell I’m going to let Chloe have Gage another minute.

  He’s the love of my life, and neither Chloe, nor her threats, are going to keep me away from him.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  We Belong

  Ellis Harrison’s house is thumping in the night. Literally you could see the sound waves echoing into the mist as they create a rainbow of vibration into the deep purple sky. A dark impression of the moon hangs curiously low as a fine dust of fog moves over the island like a shroud.

  I asked Logan to pick me up and drive me over without saying a word to Gage. I want to surprise him. Truthfully, I thought Gage might say something to Chloe and ruin operation kick Chloe’s ass, or drown Chloe in the pool, or hang Chloe by the ankles from the balcony—all of the above.

  Logan parks in his driveway and heads inside to get something while I duck across the street.

  It’s dark in Ellis’ house, save for the powerful flaming tongues that emit from the fireplace. It’s strange how I feel so comfortable here, so much more at home than at the Landon house, which feels like a prison, like another wing of Ezrina’s lair.

  “Hey you!” Brielle screams in my ear while landing on my foot.

  I yank myself free from under her heel.

  “Are you better? Who the hell kidnapped you? I heard they arrested Pierce.”

  “Yes,” I say rather dazed at her nonchalant attitude. “It was Pierce. He’s sick. He almost killed all those people, and I heard he really messed up Nat.” I throw in those last few things for good measure. “I guess she was confused and thought it was me,” I shrug, “she’s probably covering for him. That’s like your typical abusive relationship,” I say, panning the area for Gage who happens to be abusing me at the moment by dating Chloe for my supposed own good. It’s like dating other people to keep me safe is a new kind of pox in my life.

  “Oh totally.” Brielle buys everything I’m selling.

  “So, how’d it go with Drake?” I ask, calling off the search party for a moment.

  “It went.” She shrugs. “He’s totally in denial. He says he needs a break.”

  I gasp. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. He just needs to wrap his head around it.” She blows a bubble like it doesn’t really matter.

  I catch a glimpse of Drake in the corner wrapping his head around Emily, and I suddenly have the urge to spear him with the poker from the fireplace.

  “You wanna get out of here?” I know I risked my ass coming down here to kick Chloe’s, but I’d sacrifice a good bitch slap to take Brielle to get a burger and shake. That is, if she drove. It really does suck not having a car. I might just ask Logan if I can buy his dad’s car off of him, so I can have my own ride. Just because I don’t entirely trust him doesn’t mean I can’t buy something off of him—work for him—love him.

  “What? No. This is where all the action’s at, baby.” She thumps me hard in the hip before taking off dancing into a crowd of bodies.

  Why can’t I be more like Brielle and less like me? Her boyfriend—the father of her child is doing something far worse than Gage, and she’s having a great time at the party, hell, she is the party.

  I scour the vicinity for signs of Chloe or Gage and run into Logan instead. He’s carrying a white folder, and it looks like he wants to pass me notes from English class, only we don’t have English together, or any other class for that matter.

  “What’s this?” I take it from him and step outside under the porch light.

  It’s the pictures from Emily’s house. The paintings.

  “I printed them out and tried to put them in some kind of order. They’re fascinating. The details she picks up are amazing. Skyla, that one she did of you was beautiful. I’m ready to offer serious cash just to hang it in my room.”

  I give a wry smile still flipping through pages and pages of pictures. The faction war. It’s laid out before me in detail right here in my hands, part of it anyway. She doesn’t use a lot of color. In fact, the entire palate seems to be bathed in light and shadows.

  “You ask her about these?” I’m curious whether he ventured out on his own after my not so rosy mishap.

  “I tried asking if she was into art and stuff, and she said not really.”

  “T
hat’s weird. Did Gage tell you there was a binding spirit in the cellar?”

  He nods. “He thinks it may be in the entire house. Definitely something is going on there. I’ve always thought that family was odd.”

  “Are they Counts?”

  “No,” he’s quick to answer.

  “Not that you’d tell me.” I don’t bother hiding my resentment.

  “I’d tell you.”

  “In your own time.” I can’t hide the hurt. It’s late, and I’m exhausted. And who knows how many pints of blood Pierce managed to siphon. “I gotta find Gage,” I say, handing the book back to him. “Can I borrow this sometime?”

  “Sure.”

  I look at him standing there, sweetly washed in a scarf of pale light emanating from above. His entire person is bathed in gold, and somehow I find this fitting. I run my hand along the side of his face and rub my thumb gently over the hard line of skin that’s not ready to forgive me by way of disappearing.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He catches my wrist and kisses my open palm.

  “You don’t ever have to apologize to me.”

  ***

  Logan and I wander out to the back where we find Michelle and Lexy cackling into the night with a group of girls from East.

  Funny how when I first arrived on Paragon I once classified them as the source of my misery, and now they’re inconsequential, just irritating fleas on the existence of my being.

  The air is crisp with no breeze. The pool glows a soft arid blue in contrast to the tall black forest that surrounds the property. It blocks out any light that might have come from the night sky—offers an ebony hug instead. It makes me miss Nev, his slate colored wings perched high in the branches—his pensive stare, he comforted me.

  Then I see her.

  Chloe.

  Her hair is down, long and straight with a mirror shine reflecting the shimmer from the pool. Gage sits by her side disinterested in whatever it is she’s filling his head with. I wonder if her strategy could work? Force someone to be with you twenty-four seven in the event they might like you—fall in love with you out of convenience.

  “What are you going to do?” Logan brushes up against my shoulder. The soft scent of his musky cologne wraps around me like a memory.

  “I’m going to put a stop to this. I can’t let this just go on forever, and Gage cares about me too much to rock the boat with whatever it is she’s threatening him with.” Me. She’s threatening me, but I don’t feel like getting into semantics.

  “Messenger—” It’s Ellis. “I see you eyeing her like a lion stalking its prey. If you plan on dying each other red, or stabbing each other in the back, take it someplace else. The last thing I need is cops at the door.”

  “Nobody ever calls the cops on you, Ellis.” I don’t take my eyes off Chloe.

  “Yeah, well, I can feel it coming. It’s sort of a gift.” Ellis knocks back his drink.

  “I’ve got a gift, too.” And I’ll never be able to give it to Gage at the rate we’re going. And I’m definitely not in the mood to give it to him while he’s carting Chloe around like a charity.

  I walk over just as the two of them stand.

  “Leaving?” I ask, wrapping an arm around Gage.

  “What are you doing here? Are you feeling OK?” he asks, ripe with concern.

  Chloe blinks into me. “I hear you’re angry with him.”

  My cheeks flush with heat. How could Gage tell her the intimate details of our relationship? Was he venting? Obviously he doesn’t hate her as much as I do.

  “You should understand how much he really does care about you,” Chloe gives a crooked smile. “I do too, Skyla.”

  “Bullshit. The only person you care about is you. Are you happy to be back again? Happy to be inviting yourself into my life just hoping my boyfriend will give you half the attention he does me?”

  A powerful slap burns across my face.

  “Shit.” Gage pulls me in. “Are you OK?”

  I look up to see Chloe standing there alone, unattended.

  “Are you surprised it’s me he’s comforting?” I say, making my way back over to her. “He doesn’t want to be with you, he never has. Do you know how desperate it makes you look to have him glued to your side when Logan, Ellis, Brielle, Drake and I all know it’s because you’re blackmailing him?” OK, so maybe only half of those people are aware of the situation, but still, I would have read a phone book of names out loud to hurt her if I could. “And, by the way, what are you holding over him? If it’s about me, I think I have a right to know.”

  Her skin blotches out unnaturally. Her eyes glaze over with quiet rage as she takes a step forward.

  “I’m ready to tell you, Skyla. Are you sure you want to know what only Gage and I are privy to?”

  “Yes.” I step forward loosening the hold Gage has on me. I want her to tell me, make me understand what could possibly create such a stronghold over my boyfriend that he would break a promise to me and not utter a word—how he could be faithful to Chloe in that respect and not me.

  Chloe pulls me in by the waist and walks me towards the deep end of the pool. I watch as a steady rise of steam softens the ripples on the water, how it looks so inviting, already I know we’re going in.

  She walks me backwards towards the very edge, holding me in a tight embrace until my shoes are hanging halfway off the concrete. She presses her lips to my ear as though she were about to kiss me—maybe she is. Her perfume fills my nostrils. Its aggressive scent wipes clean the palate of Logan’s gentle reminders.

  We fall backwards into the warm waters as I stare up at a crisp navy sky. Chloe anchors her legs around mine, and we sink like lead. We burrow down towards the bottom until my feet connect with plaster.

  She speaks right into my ear even though I hear her thoughts long before she says anything. The words come out so terrifyingly clear. I look up in fear that the bubbles will rise to the surface and let everyone in on my secret.

  Chloe pushes off and swims away.

  But I linger as long as my breath with allow.

  And now I wish I never knew.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Dirty Little Secret

  I float up to the top and catch Chloe talking in an animated fashion to the bitch squad, accusing me of pushing her in. Typical.

  Ellis launches himself into the pool with a cannonball landing a good two feet away from me.

  “Gee thanks,” I say wiping down my face, still trying to catch my breath. Bodies start falling in, one after another until the water jags up and down like a tempest.

  Logan pencil dives next to me and pops up like a cork.

  “And I thought we’d never swim together,” he says with a smile.

  “I’m not in the mood for swimming.” I pull my arms over the lip of the pool and rest my chin on my hands.

  “What’d she say?” Logan’s hair is plastered back as his t-shirt floats up around his chin.

  “Maybe we should grab Chloe and drown her while everyone’s in the pool?” I put it out there like it’s a viable option.

  He shakes his head and places his hand gently against the small of my back.

  It’s killing me Skyla. Tell me what she’s holding over you. I really do want to help. Logan looks boldly into my eyes, burns a hole into my heart with the tenderness of his words.

  She knows Marshall’s a Sector. I shiver as the thought sails through me.

  The expression bleeds from him as he goes under then reemerges. “She won’t win. We won’t let her.”

  She has Gage. She’s already won.

  His hand slides off my back.

  I always forget Logan is listening.

  Gage gives Chloe a hard look as she heads toward the gate. He speeds over to me and squats down near the waterline.

  “I’m going to take her home,” he says reaching down and rubbing his thumb over my cheeks. “She says you know.”

  “We both do.” I glance over at Logan.

&n
bsp; “I’ll come over later and tell you what she’s thinking.”

  I shake my head over at her. “The last thing I want to discuss is Chloe’s next move.”

  “Then let’s talk about ours. We’re going to come up with something. I promise.” He presses in a quick kiss to my cheek before bolting towards the exit.

  There’s that promise again.

  I glare openly at Chloe as she wrings the water out of her hair. Chloe has us so twisted around her finger, it’s going to be like hostage negotiations just trying to see Gage.

  “Can I have a ride home?” I ask Logan.

  “No.” A playful smile teeters on his lips. “I want you to come with me to shoot off my new gun.”

  “Can we use Chloe as target practice?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Where we going to do this?” I ask.

  “Faction meeting in Belize.”

  ***

  It’s dark under the shadow of a nonexistent moon. The air is thick with humidity, and there’s a breeze that wraps us in the perfumed scent of night-blooming jasmine.

  “So light driving, huh?” I say as Logan leads me down a quiet narrow street with tall archaic buildings on either side. His hair is grey at the temples, the skin around his eyes is more textured, worn with time, and I wonder if it’s because that’s his true age, but don’t ask.

  He pauses and pulls me in gently by the elbows. Half his face is locked in the shadows, the other half illuminated by a streetlamp—ironic because that’s how I see him now, half Celestra, half Count—half good, half evil.

  “Light driving as a mode of transportation is only good for emergencies.” He gives a gentle smile. “This just happens to be one.” Logan holds a paternal quality that I find irresistible.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask if I could buy that car off you,” I say to relieve the tension in the air.

  “It’s yours,” he says with little interest as he pulls the black and green gun from out of his jeans and starts plucking at it.