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  “Is something going on between the two of you?” Mom asks flushed with embarrassment.

  Drake and Ethan file in as Tad doles out the Sunday gruel. And holy crap if it doesn’t really look like bowls of steaming vomit.

  “If one person eats that I’m going to freaking hurl,” I announce.

  “Do it for me, too,” Logan says, folding his arms. “I’m incapable of essential bodily functions at the moment.”

  Ezrina lets out a strange cry I’ve never heard myself produce before and lands in Gage’s lap so fast you’d think her chair was on fire. She seals her lips over his and engages in an awkward pecking kiss that’s not only hard to witness, it’s hard to comprehend my body is in some way responsible for the carnage.

  “She’s going to get my kissing license revoked,” I whisper.

  “Unreal, Lizbeth,” Tad says before darting a finger at Ethan. “Restrain her.”

  Ezrina rips off Gage’s sweater and lands him bare-chested on the carpet. She pins his arms down like a prisoner and lashes her mouth over his neck as if slitting his throat.

  “Do something!” Mom screams.

  “I don’t have a net big enough to hold her!” Tad hurdles over chairs and end tables, to get to Ezrina.

  Gage rolls her over and exhausts her kicking tirade—looks right at her with a severe sense of doubt. “Skyla?” There’s a question in his eyes that lingers a moment before he stands, dusts himself off like he’s good and pissed. He knows.

  “I’ve gotta run, thanks for the invite.” Gage nods into my mother before heading for the door.

  “Go—tell him it’s not me,” I push Logan in his direction.

  “Can’t,” he says. “I’ve lost the ability to communicate or come back on my own. They’re removing me from the planet one piece at a time.”

  Great. Just freaking great.

  I have never been so completely screwed.

  Chapter 56

  Love Shack

  Life in the Transfer is slow. It’s nefarious in nature as dictated by the odd spontaneous beheading, a random maiming. The screams of the victim fill the streets as he runs from the butcher with blood spurting out of his neck like water from a hose. Each act of dismemberment is met with applause from the strange old world audience. It’s all a show. The victim takes a bow, initiates the chase once again.

  “Why do they do it?” I ask, looking out from the window in Logan’s room.

  “No clue. Why do we watch horror movies or play violent video games?” He shrugs. “I guess it’s entertaining.”

  “Mmm, something seems off. Something’s wrong about the whole thing.” I join him in the kitchen and help put the dishes away. Logan made dinner for me, homemade mac and cheese. He would have indulged, himself, but he’s incapable of digestion at the moment.

  Logan pulls me in. “You want to go back to Paragon, don’t you?” He bumps his forehead to mine with a forlorn expression.

  I nod holding back tears. In less than a week’s time, I’ve managed to rewire Ezrina’s brain to include heartbreak and longing, tears that roll like rivers.

  “How can you look at me?” I’m stunned by Logan’s ability to stomach me. He’s a perfect creature in every way, a sharp contrast to the hideousness I’ve become.

  “You’re beautiful in every way, I promise.” Logan plants a kiss on the top of my head, and we dissolve back to the island where it all began for the two of us.

  ***

  “There she is,” Logan points over towards Ezrina as she walks the edge of the forest, right here on the Landon property.

  Rarely have I gone out into the backyard. Once Tad and Mom lured me out here to gift me my father’s bicycle they had restored.

  Logan and I navigate through the outline of the woods as we approach her. Ezrina prances and laughs while nestled in my flesh.

  “She’s with him,” I marvel. Nevermore sits perched on her shoulder, a noble creature of majestic stature. “You think he knows?”

  Logan takes my hand as we tuck ourselves into an alcove carved out by a Juniper and dutifully spy on Ezrina and the love of her life, Heathcliff.

  “Looks, like,” Logan struggles to see. “I think they’re…”

  Ezrina touches her cheek to him, caresses his feathers with long impassioned strokes. It’s love in bloom—ages of bottled up emotions unleashed with touch, and words, and endless secretive whispers.

  “They’re in love.” I scoot into Logan trying to hide my bulky frame.

  “You can pull people apart—remove them from the planet but you can’t extinguish feelings. Love lives even in the face of death.” He exhales a warm breath over my cheek. “I still love you, Skyla. Death can’t stop what I feel for you, not by a long shot.”

  “Logan,” I cover his hand with mine. It’s a truth I’ll know forever. “I love you, too.” It comes out sad, genuine.

  The forest fills with chatter. Ezrina, laughs—giggles like a schoolgirl.

  “You hear that?” Logan leans in, puzzled. “I think she just said my name.”

  Ezrina gives a gentle chortle, mentions Cain River, Holden—something about an arresting spirit.

  Logan and I exchange worried glances.

  From the house, Tad shouts for me to get the hell back inside.

  “Lizbeth?” He barks from the balcony. “Guess what I just caught our daughter doing? Experimenting with bestiality—with a bird! And you can probably guess which daughter.”

  “Shit,” I hiss. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Logan takes up my hand and we disappear.

  ***

  Marshall finds me back at the Transfer sulking on the sofa while Logan whips up another gourmet meal. I do my best to give Marshall the cold shoulder, let him know how it feels to piss off his so-called wife-to-be—teach him a lesson on where flawed judgment gets you.

  “She’s doing spectacular with your schoolwork,” he offers. “You’ve received an A on two pop quizzes I’ve given. Your English teacher shared a master essay she drafted on the works of Jane Austen with the entire faculty.”

  “Most impressive,” my voice snarls for effect. Ezrina possesses the ability to make every word that breathes from these lungs sound like it’s drowning in a nasty bout of phlegm.

  “Come,” Marshall beckons me off the couch. “Let’s see what Ezrina is up to. Give your spirit some rest instead of holing up in misery with the Pretty One.”

  “Will I be back in time for dinner?” I look past him at Logan who has a wonderful aroma emanating from the kitchen. My mother could only wish she had half his culinary savvy. I’d offer to help, but I have an insane urge to slash Logan with a butcher knife each time I’m near one.

  “Most certainly,” Marshall assures.

  I let Logan know I’m going to step out, and Marshall blips me away.

  ***

  We float hundreds of yards above the rich green football field of West Paragon High. Cheer practice is underway. Chloe barks instructions out with the tenacity of a drill sergeant while the rest of them kick and shout, in order to appease her agitated nature.

  “Messenger,” she goes over and screams into Ezrina’s face. “I don’t believe you’re giving it your effing best. We’re going to lose All State because you’re too damn lazy to lift those tree trunks you call legs.”

  Ezrina pants from the effort she’s just put in, her face is bright pink with duress as perspiration beads down her forehead. I don’t ever remember getting that worked up during cheer. Obviously Ezrina is putting in a monster effort.

  They fall into formation and Ezrina punches and kicks, shouts so loud, her mighty roar disrupts the clouds near our feet.

  Chloe goes over and howls in her face again, reprimands her for not giving a hundred and ten percent.

  “I’m not sure I like where this is going,” I say to Marshall.

  Ezrina lifts Chloe with ease, tosses her in the air like a ragdoll until she’s inches from our feet.

  Chloe flails, screams—the look of
horror on her face is priceless—the flawless diamond of fear.

  I laugh as she falls over the bitch squad in a heap.

  Well, played Ezrina—well played.

  ***

  Days drift by locked in this nightmare. A continual dull stream of grey afternoons, evenings that shift like shadows, just one long dismal existence.

  Logan and I have decided to join the school on its adventure to Cain River. It’s a nice break to be back on earth, back under the guise of daylight with Gage gracing the planet while a loon runs around in my body.

  Tad asserts himself as the authority as they settle into camp, making everyone cringe and ask the all-important question of who invited this idiot?

  I spy on Gage like a hunter, listening from afar as he hums a sad song in the shower, as he contemplates what’s become of me while he lies under the branches of a hundred year old pine.

  “Gage,” I call to him in a broken whisper, the voice I produce replicates the sound of shattering glass but he doesn’t answer.

  The week presses on. With the All State competition breathing down our necks, Chloe has us, well, them, cheering from sunup till sundown but imposes a reprieve the day before the competition.

  “Chloe has a heart?” I pose the question to Logan as we watch Ezrina bolt into the shower.

  “She hurt her shoulder the day you tossed her sky high. I overheard her saying she needed to ice it.” Logan gives a slight smile at Ezrina’s effort.

  “Perfect. Another thing she can blame me for.”

  Chloe sprints out of the woods and catches up to Gage on the walkway.

  “No fair,” I lament as they walk off towards the commons house together. “I hate this.”

  “You wanna see what she’s up to?” Logan offers.

  “I don’t know,” I trust Gage. Right now Ezrina feels like more of a loose cannon than Chloe.

  Ezrina bolts from the shower facility, her hair still wet, her body wrapped tight in a white cloud of a robe. She speeds over to the forest and looks around in secret before heading in.

  “What the—” I take Logan by the hand and we race to keep up with her.

  Off in the distance Holden is standing by the boathouse waving her over with one of Logan’s killer smiles.

  “Oh, no,” I sigh.

  Ezrina give a brief curtsey. “I’ve waited—dreamed of this day.” Her chest heaves as she says it, her hand falls flat against his chest, and she closes her eyes lost in the ecstasy of it all. “Heathcliff, I love you.”

  “She just called him Heathcliff,” I say, stunned.

  “Heathcliff?” Logan whispers as if they might hear.

  “Nevermore—that’s his name, and he hated me for saying it.” I inspect the sky, the dark shadows of the branches in search for his ebony plumes, his sparkling onyx eyes looking down in disapproval, but he’s not here. “Something’s going on.”

  Ezrina and Holden—my body and Logan’s, start in with soft impassioned kisses. He takes off his shirt, gazes down at my effigy with the look of true love in his eyes—nothing but longing and lust that have amassed from waiting, dreaming, wasting away in a prison of frail bones and feathers.

  “Oh my, God,” I whisper.

  She takes him by the hand and leads him into the boathouse, the door slamming shut behind them. Logan and I appear in the tiny confined space without missing a blink.

  She lies over him in a rusted out boat, her bathrobe open in the front, affording them an air of privacy. It’s outright animal, love like a furnace—a blaze unfolding before us. A tangle of bare flesh with the robe she was wearing moments before disheveled over her bottom.

  “Should we be watching this?” I stare in horror as the boat rocks to the rhythm of their affection.

  “We should be living this.” An approving smile slides along Logan’s face as he places his finger to his nose with amusement.

  “Oh stop,” I push him. “Marshall!” I rattle the tiny cabin with the reverberation.

  Ezrina begins in on a series of moans.

  “No, no, no!” I shout. They’re writhing and bucking and I’m about to vomit from the shock of it all. I can’t lose my virginity to Logan slash Holden or Heathcliff, whoever the hell he is today. I’m going to nail Marshall upside down in the butterfly room. Pin a thousand angry butterflies over him to hide the body. He is going to pay in spades for letting this happen to me.

  Through the tiny half moon window I spot Mom and Tad, threading in and out of the trees, giggling at one another, pausing every now and again to stop and make out. Eww. It’s obvious they’ve decided to supplement their honeymoon with a tryst in the forest.

  I fly out—right through the wood of the tiny log cabin, speed over to them with a vengeance. If ever they had my best interest at heart, if ever they were to save me from myself, the perfect opportunity was about to present itself. This was their moment. They could gloat for a decade for all I cared.

  I flatten Ezrina’s crooked hands over Tad’s back and jog them along to the boathouse. I really don’t understand why they can’t see me, but it’s for the best. If Tad saw Ezrina, he’d crap his pants.

  “How about in here?” Tad raises his brows suggestively.

  I so knew it! They were sneaking off to copulate.

  They fall in backwards, buttoned together at the lips. My mother’s eyes widen with horror as she spies the carnal catastrophe unfolding before her.

  Mom and Tad, Logan and me, the four of us gape at the scene.

  A breath gets trapped in my throat as I catch a glimpse of Logan’s face lost in delirium, my neck rising beneath his. Our bodies connect in a frenzy—that’s what we would look like, Logan loving me—me loving him back. As much as I hate to admit it, there is a beauty locked in this moment, a brilliant light shining in the nexus of something unimaginable, holy and right.

  Marshall beams into the room, hovers by the ceiling in a half soluble state. Petition your mother for a new trial, Love. If not, this is the destiny that awaits you. He points down over our bodies. I’m afraid it’s time to rise, he calls to the two of them. Ezrina’s eyes fly open, look right at Marshall with terror. She can see him, just like I could. Heathcliff first, he calls out. Logan’s body snaps back as though he were electrocuted.

  “Oh God,” I whimper.

  “Skyla,” Marshall nods with the glimmer of an abominable grin.

  “Skyla!” Logan shouts, pointing hard over at the body lying beneath mine. “Kill him!”

  It’s the last thing I hear as the room glides in a dizzying circle, and I blink back into my own earthy form.

  Chapter 57

  Like A Lover’s Voice

  “Skyla Laurel Messenger!” My mother shatters the silence with her excavating howl.

  I sit up, rolling Holden off in the process.

  How in the hell do I talk my way out of this one?

  Holden wrangles on his clothes, causing Tad to escort my mother out the door.

  “You have five minutes to hit base camp, young lady—five minutes!” My mother roars.

  Shit. She’ll never buy that virgin routine now. Ezrina’s gone and ruined everything. I am still a virgin, right? I pick up my robe and glance down at my naked body as though it might offer up a clue.

  “What the hell happened?” Holden whines as he buttons his jeans. “Did we like just effing get it on?”

  I look around the room for a weapon, an ax, a noose, hell I’d hack Holden up limb by limb with a machete if I could. I’m sure Dr. Oliver could pick up the pieces quite literally if he had to.

  A long chain, thick and heavy, coiled in the corner peaceful as a snake garners my attention.

  I secure my robe, rising to my feet.

  “So you wanna do it again?” Holden tilts his head with a hint of pleading. “You know, real quick?”

  “Sure,” I say, hopping out of the aluminum vessel that only moments before had Logan and I comprising a duet with our flesh.

  My feet wobble unsteady on this new light fra
me. I snatch the chain up from the floor and snap it to the ground, quick and violent. The metal cinches and crackles as a spark of lightening ignites from the bionic pull.

  “Shit,” Holden hisses. “What the hell’s that for?”

  I thrash the metal leash with extravagant force—whip his left foot as it touches down on the floor.

  “Crap!” He hops up.

  “This is how I like it,” I say, swinging the chain so fast it cuts the air with a whoosh.

  “Calm down,” he backs out the door, and I follow. Holden trips over a branch and rights himself immediately. “Get that thing away from me.”

  I don’t like seeing Logan’s face in pain, the look of confusion bubbling to the surface. I have to keep reminding myself that beneath it all it’s Holden—that Logan’s body is the last place he belongs.

  Holden takes off, sprints in the direction of the creek and I take off after him. We traverse logs, avoid bushes, ditch in and out of the new spring grass that stands as tall as a man until finally trekking down towards the mouth of the swollen river.

  Holden pauses at the tributary, looks at me one last time before jumping into the water.

  I stop just shy of the river’s edge and watch Holden as he struggles to swim across.

  The faint call of voices emanate from downstream. I give a hard squint and make out a group of people lounging around on boulders—Brielle hopping up and down, waving like mad to get my attention.

  I jump into the water and gasp as it hugs my waist with its icy bite. Holden bobs unsteady as if he doesn’t know how to swim, fighting the current to cut through the middle. I pray Gage was on one of those boulders—that he saw me and he’s coming to help me do the unthinkable.

  “Skyla,” Holden reaches for me as a rush of water cascades over his shoulders. He looks relived that I’ve abandoned my weaponry.