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  “Explain yourself,” I say.

  “OK, so I totally didn’t know you were coming to Logan’s initiation that one night. At first, I thought, oh this is cool, Skyla’s here to support her ex, which shows a lot of character, but then I was like, wait, I have the bonding bloodguilt tied to a tree, so what’s up with Logan declaring her as the prize?”

  I cut her off. “What’s a bonding bloodguilt?”

  “You know, Logan has to capture something and shed its blood as a demonstration of the old him passing away and the new him coming into his own as a Count.”

  “Why wasn’t Ellis there?” Then again maybe he was. I wasn’t exactly holding roll call.

  “He never goes to stuff like that.” She flicks her wrist in the air.

  “So does Ellis know you’re a Count?” Ellis, very distinctly, told me he didn’t know about Brielle, nor did he believe she even knew what a Count was.

  “I just found out about him.” She ticks her head to the side.

  Great. Now I don’t know who to believe, probably no one—except Gage. Gage is a life raft on rough open seas.

  “So anyway,” she continues, “what the hell happened to you? One minute you were there, and the next you disappeared.”

  “Did I disappear?” I bite down on a devious smile. “Are you sure the storm didn’t hit at the exact right time, and I didn’t run off into the forest?” I don’t see why I should fess up to everything with Brielle.

  Her mouth opens at the epiphany. “So that’s what happened?” She flicks a finger outside the door. “Demetri tried to tell me that, but I wasn’t buying it.”

  I examine her fully, for a minute straight.

  “Isn’t it strange that he pretended not to know me at first?” I ask.

  “You just caught him off guard. Plus your hair was wet that night, and you were running around in pajamas.”

  “Dress,” I correct. “I was wearing a dress. So I guess there’s nothing else to do but call the police,” I shrug.

  “Police? For what?”

  “Demetri Edinger. He came after me with a knife, he tried to kill me.” I recoil in fear.

  Her eyes ignite into brilliant sharp flames as she leans over.

  “I believe it was Logan who planned to cut you,” Brielle slashes me with her venom. “Death wasn’t on the agenda that night. In case you don’t understand how the bloodguilt works, Logan was about to cast you as an undesirable soul, leaving you forever exempt from all Count rituals. So, if anything, you should write Demetri a thank you for agreeing to play along. But, as far as your blood is concerned, you still hold a giant bull’s eye on the back of your Celestra ass. Or maybe you’d like to defect, like the rest of your crew?”

  Logan was trying to save me? I gulp down the thought as I try and shake the image of him hovering over me with a knife out of my brain.

  “I won’t be defecting anytime soon,” I say. “I don’t like Demetri Edinger, and I will never thank him for anything as long as I live.”

  ***

  The next day, Mom makes sure to delivery me to Dr. Booth’s office along with a belated Christmas present wrapped in tinfoil.

  “Chocolate,” I say, placing it on his desk, dejected.

  His forehead rises, creating a series of deep-set wrinkles that can rival those on any Shar Pei puppy.

  “I heard you were missing. I’m glad to see you’re OK.” Dr. Booth takes a deep breath and relaxes back into his tufted leather chair. He looks decidedly like everybody’s favorite uncle, the one you know will give you money on Christmas and your birthday, complete with a nice warm hug, but is wise enough to stay out of your business—thus earning himself the title of best relative ever. Unfortunately for me, Dr. Booth is neither my uncle, nor does he stay out of my private affairs because he just so happens to be the shrink Mom and Tad pay in cash to evaluate the fragile state of my being.

  This afternoon, he’s wearing a tweed jacket with a bright red dress shirt underneath, topped off with a navy tie. Probably something his wife picked out for Christmas. It makes him look a bit out of character, dressed far more sheik and less geek than usual.

  I spill my guts about Logan, the rock of death, and everything that ensued thereafter.

  Dr. Booth studies me as though the very answers I was seeking were written across my forehead all along. I smooth the palm of my hands across my jeans just waiting for something profound to espouse from his lips.

  “You think Demetri knew you were coming?”

  “I don’t know, but I doubt it.”

  “The reason I’m asking is the Counts are particular about their ceremonies. In fact, one might say they’re outright meticulous. Shifting gears in the middle of a ritual is rare form.”

  “Demetri Edinger killed my father. He doesn’t play by any rules.”

  “And what about Logan? Have you spoken with him regarding the incident?”

  “No.” Nor do I plan to.

  “Has he tried communicating with you?”

  If you call jamming his tongue down my throat a form of communication.

  “No,” I say, “he hasn’t.”

  “It’ll be interesting to see what he has to say for himself.”

  I nod.

  Oh, it’ll be interesting all right.

  If I choose to listen—or believe him.

  ***

  Days drift by. I sequester myself in my room, unable to sleep and ironically puking daily like it’s some new ritual.

  Gage and I spend all of our time in the butterfly room locked in a tangle of limbs, bathing one another in hot ripe kisses.

  I like it like this with Gage, free from Holden who’s driving Tad insane with his voracious appetite, free from Demetri who is busy setting up shop in Paragon while taking care of his grandfather’s estate. Rumor has it he’s a foot soldier in the army of Paragon’s finest. Apparently that’s how Demetri stays one step ahead of the law. He is the law. Can’t wait to see him roaming the streets wielding a gun of all things.

  “So, tell me what happened while I was away.” I lean into his chest.

  “That day you disappeared, when the bell rang and class was over, I tried to catch up with you in the hall. I wanted to know what went on with Dudley after Chloe’s outburst. Anyway, I kept calling you, and you wouldn’t turn around.”

  Just knowing that a Fem took my place creeps me out.

  “Did she look like me?”

  “Identical. When I finally caught up to her, she looked right through me. I knew something wasn’t right. She didn’t say anything just went into the girl’s gym, never came out. When school was over, Logan and I combed through that entire building.”

  “I was with Marshall. He took me to a field and told me to run while he shot arrows all around me. I think I’ll be OK as long as Chloe doesn’t ask anymore stupid questions.”

  “I was more than pissed off at her. She came over to the bowling alley the next day and I just lost it. I told her off,” he lets out a heavy sigh. “I’ve never told off a girl before and, to tell the truth, I still don’t see her as one—more like a monster.”

  “I second that.”

  “Anyway, the night of the blood bonding, Logan came home, told me what happened. He said you disappeared before he could, you know, cut you,” the last few words come out barely audible. “Logan wants to talk to you,” Gage growls the words right into my ear.

  “No,” I don’t even hesitate.

  “He’ll be there tonight.”

  Ellis is having a get together later, and to be honest, I’d rather not go.

  “Well, then, I’d hate for him to accidentally drown in the pool.” Who am I kidding? I can’t kill Logan. Gage prophesied he’d live to be a ripe old age, like me. Maybe I should work harder at disfiguring him. “Why doesn’t Chloe like him?” I lament. “I’m so sick of all her blackmail, it’s emotionally draining. If only Chloe had a secret. We could blackmail her.”

  “She does.” A male voice emanates from below. Holden pops up
sporting his new Landon disguise and forces me deeper into Gage’s arms.

  “Yeah?” Gage isn’t even fazed by the fact Holden is crawling into the butterfly room. “What’s her secret?”

  “I don’t know.” He runs his fingers through his hair while spearing me with contempt. “You could have at least got me a halfway decent body,” he scoffs, inspecting his pale, thin arms.

  “Why don’t I kill you again and we can start from scratch,” I suggest.

  “You’re not funny.”

  “And you’re not Ethan,” I quip.

  “Look,” he barks above a whisper, “I’m friggin sorry about what happened that night at the falls. Trust me, nobody is more sorry than me that I ever laid eyes on you. And besides,” he softens with the look of a clear agenda written across his face, “if we’re going to live under the same roof and have the same enemies, we might as well be friends.”

  Friends? This should be good.

  “Tad is your enemy?” I wouldn’t even go that far in describing my decrepit relationship with my stepfather.

  “Chloe,” he gives a long blink as though he were tiring of my stupidity.

  “Tell us what you know,” Gage is as desperate as I am.

  “I don’t know Chloe’s secret. Only one person did, and she’s dead.”

  “Who’s that?” I ask, stunned.

  “My sister.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I’m Gonna Kiss You All Over

  Holden shows up at Ellis’ party, and you would think he knew everyone here the way he paraded around and commandeered the crowd. Oh, wait, he does.

  “At least he’s not shy.” Logan leans over the kitchen counter as we observe Holden doing body shots off Emily Morgan’s stomach.

  “Most Counts aren’t,” I say, watching Brielle knock over an end table in an attempt to dance on it.

  Gage has been hijacked by Chloe for a meeting of the minds, with her proliferating her insanity, and Gage pretending to care. She swore up and down she heard Dudley was coming then gasped in surprise when my new boyfriend decided to stand me up me so publicly.

  “So, rumors are going around about you.” Logan points a finger towards my midsection.

  “Are you still here?” I’m completely annoyed by his presence. “Don’t you realize I would rather listen to Fems discuss the way they’re going to strip the flesh off my bones than speak to you?”

  “I swear, Skyla, I was trying to save you. It was an idea that came to me at the last second. When I saw you there, the first thing I wanted to do was take you home, then I realized you would be the perfect sacrifice.”

  “So the Counts couldn’t touch me again,” I scoff. “Brielle told me all about it.”

  “And you don’t believe it.” He looks down at the counter filled with disappointment.

  “Why should I? What would it gain Demetri to OK yet another throwaway Celestra? And a pure one at that?”

  “I don’t know,” Logan secures my eyes with his own, “but he was willing.”

  “And if he wasn’t? If he demanded my capture and had me hooked up to Pierce’s fangs by midnight—what would you have done then?”

  Logan’s amber eyes glisten as he hesitates with the answer.

  “Nothing,” I hiss. “Because if I didn’t get myself out of that one, I wouldn’t be here today, would I?”

  “Yes, I swear to you, you’d be standing right here. I could have taken you home after. We wouldn’t have to fight or win a faction war because you would have been untouchable to the Counts.” He steps in close until I can feel the heat emanating from off his body, feel his sad eyes stretch over me with pure agony. “Plus, that way you got a good look at some of the Count players on Paragon. They’ve always known who you are, and now the shoe is on the other foot.”

  “A lot of good that will do me. Did you get your initiation?”

  “We used a goat.”

  A vague thought begins to twitch on the outskirts of my mind. That dream I had weeks ago still bothers me, the one with a round flat stone, Brielle and her goat.

  “What?” He washes over me with a heavy look of concern.

  “Nothing.” I dreamed about the future, well, somewhat inaccurately, but I did. I haven’t dreamed anything significant since. I’ll have to start experimenting with Gage and his kisses, see how far they’ll get me while enjoying the ride.

  “There’s always Dudley,” Logan says looking behind me.

  “What did you say?” If Logan has procured some bizarre super power to hear my thoughts without touching me, we’re going to have a real freaking problem.

  “Dudley—he’s behind you.”

  I turn in time to see Marshall wrap his arms around my waist from the back and kiss the side of my face like he was my boyfriend.

  Dear God.

  I need to find out Chloe’s secret and fast.

  “Shall we go outside?” Marshall presents the idea loud enough for Logan to hear.

  “She’s not going anywhere with you. You’re a lunatic.” Logan stands as though he were looking for a fight.

  “No, Logan,” I grit the words, “you are.”

  I take Marshall by the hand and lead him out the door.

  ***

  I walk with Marshall under a three quarter moon openly holding his hand while playing along with Chloe’s game, but mostly I’m doing this to scare the hell out of Logan who I know full well is stalking us like a lion. I can feel Logan’s hatred for Marshall as thick as the hatred Gage feels towards him. I seem to be the only one who doesn’t hate Marshall. He’s the one person I should fear and can’t.

  We head out to the side of the house, free from the bodies jostling and screaming for Marshall’s attention. He’s like a novelty here.

  “I guess people really think we’re together,” I say.

  “Rumor has it we’re starting a family,” he gives a sly smile.

  “Right.” I roll my eyes at the thought. Marshall has a strange fantasy of having kids with me. It’s bizarre, sort of like him.

  The strong scent of jasmine fills my senses as we make our way past the flower garden that borders the property.

  He pulls me into the paper white trunk of a birch tree and steals a quick kiss.

  “Don’t do that.” I consider yanking my hands free and slapping Marshall, but it will only incite Logan to go ninja all over his ass.

  “Do you have a vision for me?” I whisper.

  “Change your mind, did you?”

  I don’t dare clue Marshall in on the fact this might be a good time to test my dream aptitude after one of his kisses, that it will give Logan nightmares for a good long while all at the same time.

  Marshall raises our conjoined hands.

  “Oh, right.” I keep forgetting Marshall can hear me if he’s touching me, he’s Celestra that way, only he’s not.

  “I have the best abilities of each faction,” he muses in a seductive manner. Letting Marshall woo me like this would have been easy if there were no Gage. For sure, it wouldn’t matter if Logan were around. I’m completely over him. I think.

  We fall into a simple kiss saturated with Marshall’s feel good sensations. It is bliss like this with Marshall until I realize I have a boyfriend and try to push him away, but he grabs me by the waist, and a picture begins to emerge.

  It’s Logan’s Mustang swaying, gyrating. I’m lying in the backseat in a ball gown. Logan is beside me taking off his clothes while covering my neck in passionate kisses.

  I pull away and smack Marshall hard in the chest.

  “No!” I say sharply.

  “Are you rebuking me or the vision?” He seems equally stunned at the prospect of both ideas.

  “Why can’t you ever show me anything decent?”

  “I didn’t show you anything yet, you simply saw what you wanted.”

  “Bullshit!” OK, so, I may have had that very thought at least a couple of times before.

  “Try me.” He pulls me in by the back of the neck and indu
lges in a penetrative kiss.

  A field emerges, there’s a pool of blood. Someone is lying on the ground, hurt. We’re in danger. I can feel it. Their face is coming into focus—

  Marshall is plucked off me, as Logan smashes his fist into his mouth.

  “Stop!” I kick Logan hard in the shin.

  “What?” He looks perplexed. “Did you want that?”

  I cover my mouth unexpectedly.

  “Are you cheating on Gage?” The whites of his eyes glint over me, accusingly.

  “No. I would never do that. I love him.” I wipe Marshall’s taste off my lips with the back of my hand.

  Marshall staggers backwards, examining the blood from his mouth.

  “I’ll leave you two to digest the situation,” he takes off towards the house.

  Logan appraises me in the stale light emanating from the back porch where voices pierce through the muted silence every now and again by way of a disjointed cry of laughter.

  He doesn’t believe me. I can tell by the look in his eye. He’s bewildered by the fact I’d be in a lip lock with, of all people, Marshall.

  Logan picks up my hand. He’s dangerous. Let me take you home.

  No, I try to free my fingers from his grip, but he clasps on a little firmer. I don’t trust you, I say.

  His amber beams tunnel through me with a spear of suspicion. And, for the first time—I’m not sure I trust you.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Love Like This

  I hitch a ride home with Holden—Holden of all people. Marshall disappeared soon after, to tend to his swollen lip ‘professionally’ as he put it.

  I lock myself in my bedroom and sit on the window bench, watch the lethargic fog float by easy as a dream. I wait for Gage and my heart breaks every minute. I need a muzzle around Marshall, a chastity belt—a shield. I’m a horrible girlfriend. And I can’t let Marshall sway me with his ridiculous glimpses into the future anymore. I mean, think about it, there’s never been anything I’ve been able to stop, nothing at all I can use to my benefit. I bet, all along, he’s been trying to erode my relationship with Gage.