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  “Is it going to teach me something important?”

  “Alleviates heartaches and dispenses both knowledge and wisdom. Kissing me is both medicinal and educational.”

  Marshall doesn’t waste any time. He pulls me down in one mouthwatering moment. The rush of energy flows through me like a river of pleasure amplified—no wonder Michelle can’t leave him alone.

  A picture emerges. I see Gage and Logan near a large banquet table. Gage swipes his finger along the side of a birthday cake and puts a scoop of frosting in his mouth. I see Logan holding up a long serrated knife in my direction. It looks questionable whether it’s me or the cake he’s ready to cut.

  I pull back and take a breath.

  “That’s it?”

  “It’s a bit more dramatic in real life.”

  “That was the last time, I swear.” I push past him as I bolt for the door.

  “It’s not. I’ve seen this,” he calls after me.

  ***

  When I get back to the room, I’m shocked to see two males slumped over the tiny round table in the room. Crap! It’s probably Holden, and he’s brought another dead friend, or worse, the Fems that just finished a dress rehearsal in Marshall’s bathroom. I accidentally knock into the trashcan and both Logan and Gage sit up at attention.

  They’re hovering over something. Marshall’s dagger sits in front of them, still tucked inside its sheath.

  Chloe’s diary sits nestled between the two of them, opened.

  “You’re reading it,” I gasp.

  “I saw something silver hanging out of your bag,” Gage says rather sheepishly. “I thought you brought the knife, but it was your brush. Then I saw this.” His face changes colors. “We didn’t read it all.” He picks up the last few pages still glued in a chunk.

  “Let’s finish it then.” I snatch it off the table and hop onto the bed near the window. Logan and Gage scoot in on either side of me.

  More boring, droning days—I leaf through pages of bizarre statements about playing a game of buried treasure, mundane school news, the charting of her period.

  October 17th,

  Demetri did it. I’ve fashioned a better noose and the deed is done. Let the record show that the prediction of my beloved shall stand correct. This butterfly will emerge from her cocoon in a blaze of beautiful glory.

  October 25th,

  I’ve seen her again—tried to drown her in my dreams.

  Counts invited me to their meeting! I’m big time now.

  Drown me—she was trying to drown me?

  “The Counts,” Gage says.

  “Logan?” I push the book to my chest. “When we get back I want to go over that list of names.”

  The two of them exchange glances.

  “What?” I ask. They’re keeping something from me. I relax the book against my knees. I’ll get the list myself when we get back, from Ellis if I have to. “Who was Emerson?”

  “Pierce and Holden’s sister,” Gage whispers. “She was murdered about six months before Chloe died.”

  “Chloe said she watched someone die, that she had blood on her hands. I bet she killed her. That’s what they were lording over her.” My breathing becomes unsteady.

  Logan twitches his brows and gives a small shrug.

  Nothing would surprise me about Chloe anymore.

  October 31st,

  Michelle has gone psychotically insane trying to figure out what Lex and me are always ‘whispering’ about. I think in another month I’ll clue her in on our little secret, Em too. I’ll probably tell her Logan is a demon—although that might actually entice her. She knows enough to stay away from Gage.

  Ellis’ party sucked just like him. Logan announced that he doesn’t want to see me anymore. He doesn’t think this is going to work. Well, too damn bad.

  I call the shots. I decide the end.

  November 2nd,

  Demetri freaking Edinger came to town! I almost crapped my pants when I saw him at the gas station. Turns out his grandfather lives here. Weird.

  Holden texted me, let me know the Counts have made all the necessary arrangements for Paragon’s newest resident. Of course, I put on the finishing touches myself, one well-placed BFF, and one well-placed boyfriend.

  I have everyone where I want them—everyone working for me. Death will be like a well-needed vacation.

  November 3rd,

  Dear Dairy, I’ll be signing off for a while. I have this creaky feeling in my bones that I could be headed into my cocoon any day now. I’ll be sealing you off as soon as I’m through writing this. I look forward to seeing you again—when I get back.

  Chloe

  “What’s the name of the regional leader in L.A.?” My voice is clenched in a hoarse whisper. It all comes together for me. Chloe looking for someone just like her, bribing the Kraggers for information, giving away Celestra files, doing anything and everything to save her life, clawing her way out of death like a cat at the bottom of a well—Chloe light driving to L.A.

  “I don’t remember.” Logan shakes his head.

  “I do. D. Edinger.” My fingers shake as I turn the next few pages. Blank. Homecoming came and went and Chloe was busy being tormented by Fems or Ezrina or whoever the heck held her captive for two weeks before dumping her off on the side of the road like the piece of trash she was.

  I peel back the final page, written on the inside cover in bold print reads,

  People I Hate

  Brody Bishop

  Emerson Kragger

  LexyBakova

  Michelle Miller

  Ellis Harrison

  Gage Oliver

  Skyla Messenger

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  The Death of You

  I flex the diary upside down until the picture of Ezrina floats out, gentle as a leaf. I pluck it form the air before it has a chance to settle.

  “I’m going to the bathroom.” I push the words out in an effort to ditch both Logan and Gage.

  Chloe was the reason my father died. It was an all out hunt for someone like her, someone she could fool into liking her, someone as stupid as me to even think to bring her back. She probably whispered the idea in my sleep. Somehow she made sure I ended up on Paragon, trapped in her world to do her bidding.

  I snatch the dagger off the table in one clean swipe and dash to the restroom, locking myself inside.

  Chloe was right, this does change everything, although the jokes on her because she is never going to live to see it.

  “Skyla!” The door bucks as Logan and Gage frantically scream my name.

  I get on the floor and hold the knife close to my chest. I try to remember the last occasion I time traveled alone. For sure I had enough blood in me then. I’m not too concerned with whether or not I’ll get back. There’s always Chloe’s blood—and I plan on shedding quite a bit of it.

  Logan and Gage burst through the door, just as I disappear.

  ***

  Ellis’ party is going strong. I walk around back and spy Logan with his arms crossed talking to Carly. Her billowy hair flails in the wind—funny how her being a mom has changed my urge to slaughter her. Although on a night like tonight I fear for anyone who gets in my way.

  Turns out Chloe has been hanging around the periphery of my life like a cyclone, ready and waiting for the wind to push her just right so she could knock down my house of cards.

  I ditch past Gage just barely. I’ve impressed myself on him and he hungers to reprise that kiss. Maybe kissing Gage will be how I celebrate this fated night—it seems fitting in oh so many ways.

  Then I see her, relaxed, with her feet up over the sofa. She wears a mile wide grin as she talks to Michelle.

  I slip the dagger into the back of my jeans—feel the cold steel handle push into my flesh as I pull the picture of Ezrina out of my back pocket. I whisper her name like an incantation.

  “Hey!” Chloe throws her legs over the side.

  “You have a second?” I force a smile, crumbling the pictur
e in my hand.

  “Sure.” She looks over at Michelle. “Friend from out of town. Boy trouble. He’s a lot like Logan,” she sneers as we exit the room.

  There’s an arctic chill in the air, but my anger has numbed me from the frosty bite of the elements. Dew settles quickly on my skin, my hair, my clothes, but I’m anesthetized from the effects. Hatred has a strange way of stripping your senses away and honing all of your energy into one pure stream of venom.

  “Full moon,” she breathes the words as we progress towards the woods.

  “It’s a blistering moon,” my voice comes from someplace else, too deep and arid to belong to me. “Can it be that?”

  “Sounds like an ominous forecast.” She keeps us moving at a frenetic pace. “You better watch it next time. Someone is going to see you.” She picks a large stick off the ground as though it were a reflex.

  We step into the woods. An entire covering of tall black towers spread over us like a death shroud.

  “Let me guess.” She bats her lashes. “Logan and Gage are embroiled in a power struggle. The love triangle of doom is about to collapse, and you don’t know which one you’re going to let deflower you first?” She places her hand up by her face and sighs.

  “Mmm,” I moan. “The story went down a little different, actually.” Our steps even out as we progress deeper and deeper into the black of the forest. “I found a love that grows with Gage, and a love that will wait for me with Logan.”

  “Aren’t you a lucky little witch?” She digs a smile into the side of her face.

  “Do you know about love, Chloe?” I pant as the scenery glides by quick and smooth as a dream. “Love, as strong as death?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Her features darken.

  “I read it—right up until the end.” I pull her back by the shoulder.

  A wild army of thumps land hard on the forest floor, shaking the earth with their disruptive growls.

  “So you know?” There’s a hint of glee in her voice.

  “I know what it changed.”

  “What’s that, Skyla?” Her eyes sparkle with anticipation.

  “Everything, between you and me.”

  I don’t tell her that it touched down like a tornado and solidified my feelings for Gage, or that it drove Logan away, or that I may never look at Brielle the same way again.

  It feels good razing over the truth, watching it rise and blossom in our conversation, natural as breathing.

  “You have my father’s blood on your hands. You can’t expect to get away with it.”

  “Well, now we’ve got a party.” She pushes out a smile.

  “So Brielle was just a plant?” A part of me can’t believe that, even if it’s true. “And who’s the boyfriend?” Like I don’t know it was supposed to be Ellis. “Backfire much?”

  “Nothing I do backfires.” Her eyes light up with anger.

  “You couldn’t land Gage. He wants me—always has.” I wave his love for me like a banner.

  “He’ll be mine. Everything I planned is coming true. You standing here is evidence of that.”

  “I’m not with Ellis, and you’re not going to live.”

  “Ellis?” She laughs when she says his name. “I live, Skyla, and it’s by your blood that I do it.”

  The forest comes alive with a series of thuds and hisses.

  “Fems!” A sheer look of panic grips her. “It’s happening.” She pulls me forward and propels me like a human shield.

  “Skyla!” My name booms from somewhere outside the woods.

  I can’t tell whether it’s Logan, Gage or Ellis for that matter.

  “In here!” Chloe shouts.

  A tall black dog standing upright, with three snapping heads stomps in our direction.

  “Shit!” She pulls in behind me.

  “You don’t get it.” I try and fling her in the Fem’s direction. “I’m not here to help you. I’m not bringing you back. I’m never going to help you. I’m never not going to try and kill you.”

  The Fem gyrates wildly, with tongues as long as leashes. Chloe charges at it with the stick in her hand, spears it through the throat. She ducks behind a tree before taking off into the night.

  The beast growls and staggers in my direction. Chloe didn’t kill it. She only managed to piss it off. It barrels towards me in a fit of wild thrashing, swiping the air, and I run in the opposite direction.

  I can hear them—everywhere. Like a bad dream they snap branches from trees as though they were pretzels—groan like dying prisoners.

  Chloe screams. I run towards her at a quickened pace dodging trees, hitting trees, twisting in and out of this disorganized maze of nature.

  “Skyla!” It’s Logan.

  I run faster away from his voice. I can hear Gage shouting in the distance. Gage might let me do it, but Logan—I don’t know if he’d stand by and watch me kill Chloe— if he’d help if I needed him to.

  “Skyla, wait!”

  The heavy sound of his erratic breathing propels me forward like springs.

  “Get away from me!” I shout, running through a small clearing towards Chloe’s cries for help.

  “Please, wait!” He snatches at my elbow twice before spinning me around.

  We pant out of rhythm, creating a dense layer of fog between us.

  “Don’t do it.” Logan squints into me. There’s a genuine anguish in his face that begs me to listen. “She’s going to die tonight. It doesn’t have to be by your hand.”

  For a moment I forget about Chloe and a forest full of Fems, instead I shove him hard in the chest.

  “You didn’t fight for me!” I roar the words from the deepest part of my soul. It’s anguish losing him. There aren’t enough tears, or I hate yous, to convey how terrible he’s made me feel.

  “I am fighting for you,” it comes out strong, genuine and tender.

  Chloe’s wails of terror light up the night.

  Logan steps forward, his amber eyes glow in the reserve moonlight filtering down from the branches. He pulls me in and kisses me full on the mouth, a hot hungry bite of heat that lets me know he’s still in the ring, that his love for me is alive and burning— primal in his gut.

  I pull back and pant into the dense night air.

  Chloe calls my name, begging for my help.

  “I have to go.” I run into the thick of the woods at breakneck pace. I don’t bother looking back.

  Chapter Fifty

  Watch You Bleed

  Paragon trembles beneath my feet. Entire explosions ricochet throughout the forest. I see arms and legs moving. It’s Michelle. She’s trapped by the rotting corpse of a Fem, pinned between two trees. Another Fem covered in thick dark hair claws at her back. Michelle lives. This I know.

  “Payback’s a bitch,” I mutter.

  I turn and charge toward Chloe’s voice, clutching at the dagger in my hand with bionic force.

  “Skyla?” Chloe comes at me bloodied, her bottom lip swelling on one side.

  A shag of red hair shoots out of the darkness like a flare—Ezrina. She bolts forward with that strange sense of calm, grips Chloe by the back of the hair and starts to drag her off.

  “No!” I pluck Chloe free and pull her over a landmine of tree roots bulging out of the ground like a series of petrified snakes. “She’s mine.” I secure her arms behind her back and run her into the pit of the forest in an effort to lose Ezrina.

  Chloe struggles to get her bearings. She hits me hard in the face with the back of her hand and knocks me to the ground.

  I clasp onto her ankles before she has the chance to flee and cause her to sit down hard. The dagger strays near my ribcage, and I pick it up again and touch it. It lights up the night, ethereal—a lovely, deadly shade of blue.

  One incision—death without pain. This was far too easy.

  Instead, I hike up Chloe’s dress and run my hand up her thigh until I hit the pocketknife clipped to her garter.

  “Skyla, no!” It sounds like more of
a command than a plea.

  “This is for my dad.” I slash through her arms and legs. I remember where each clean slit was made into her flesh from seeing her in the morgue, and replicate it.

  “You can’t kill me! I’m coming back.” She tries to break free from my grasp. I turn her over, and clutch her hands high up behind her back until I feel the bones bend unnaturally. She lets out a horrid groan, and I relent. “Gage, he told me,” she screams. “There’s nothing you can do, Skyla. I’ll be there.”

  “There’s no more blood for you. I won’t give it.” I reach over and pat the ground for the dagger, but it’s missing. I pat out further, losing my grasp on her wrists.

  Before I realize it Chloe thrusts me upside down, flat on my back. The glint of the silver pocketknife shines in her hand.

  “First time was practice.” She presses the cold steel against my neck.

  It was Chloe. Chloe Bishop slit my throat.

  The dagger spins over to me by way of a tennis shoe. I look up in time to see Logan topple Chloe off me.

  It feels good holding the knife that will kill my enemy. I pulsate my fingers over the handle. This is all the vindication I will ever need to avenge my father’s death—a soul for a soul.

  Chloe and Logan roll around in the dirt. I wait until she makes one final revolution before plunging the dagger deep in her back, the handle rising just beneath her shoulder like a stump.

  Chloe falls over, motionless.

  Logan locks me in a tight embrace before we head on out.

  “Where is she?” Ezrina looks frazzled. Her voice echoes through the forest like a flock of nervous birds.

  I point back at Chloe. A single beam of moonlight underscores her being. She’s become a wilted flower, a terrible wasted thing of beauty.

  I killed her. It was by hand.

  We changed the future—Logan and me.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Happy Birthday