Entropy (The Countenance Trilogy 3) (13 page)

“Thank you all for coming and making this day extra special.” She looks to each of her three children and offers a generous smile, but too much as if it were forced, and it makes me wonder just how much she knows. “You’re welcome to come out next weekend. Your father and I are leaving for the Maldives for a month. It would be great to see you before Christmas.”

“No can do.” Jen raises her glass as if she were making a toast. “Austen House is having an anniversary. It’s a very sacred and special time. There’s no way Laken nor I can miss it. Plus, the girls like to go a little wild so I need to hang out and make sure no one goes off the deep end.

I cut a quick look to Laken, and she frowns at me as if insulted by the insinuation.

“How’s life at Trinity?” Jones asks Jen as if he really cared, and yet a part of me believes he does.

“Classes are tougher than last year, but overall, it’s okay.” She pulls Blaine’s arm across her shoulder. “It helps that I have the world’s best study partner.”

“Speaking of studying.” Blaine nods over to me. “The deadline is coming up in a week. You’d better get your app in, or you won’t be carrying on the family tradition of attending Trinity U.”

“Is that so?” Demetri’s haunted eyes pull back as he offers an unrepentant smile. “I’ll be glad to write a letter of recommendation.”

“As will I,” Jones is quick to offer up his useless self.

“I’ll have to talk to Laken.” I slip an arm around her waist.

Jen ticks back a notch. “What’s there to discuss? Of course, you’re going to Trinity, and when the time comes, so will Laken.”

“I’m not going to Trinity.” She shakes her head emphatic. “In fact, I don’t plan on hanging around much longer.”

“Where will you go?” Demetri connects his palms as if he were applauding.

“I don’t know. I’d kind of like a fresh start. Maybe West Coast? I hear there’s a nice island out there, Paragon. Maybe I’ll end up there.” She spears him with a look.

“Paragon?” Her mother flattens her hand across her chest. Her father looks unimpressed as if he couldn’t care less where Laken ended up in life, and that, too, makes me wonder.

“I’ve been there.” Demetri smooths his finger over the rim of his glass never taking his eyes off hers. “Beautiful place. It can be claustrophobic at times. You can get island fever in a matter of hours. There’s no university on the island.”

“There’s one nearby.” Jones is quick to offer up. “Host Island has a private university. There’s also a subdivision of Althorpe out that way. I do a lot of travel in that direction.”

Laken studies him long after he finishes speaking. She’s connecting the paranormal dots, the island, Althorpe. The Counts are everywhere. There’s no escaping them. I’d tell her myself, but it’s best she discovers this on her own. She will. You can no more escape the Counts than you can oxygen.

“How about you, Mr. Edinger?” A private smile plays on her lips. “Are you familiar with Paragon?”

“My grandfather is from the island. He bequeathed me his estate. I’m returning in the summer. I’m afraid I won’t be back this way with the exception of pleasure.” He nods over to my mother with her hair pulled back in its tight knit bun. I have every memory still intact from as far back as being a little boy in this world, and, oddly, none of it seems to clash with the memories I have of Cider Plains. It’s as if the Counts gave me the gift of another life. Two parallel existences going down separate tracks, and now that they’ve collided, I don’t feel any different.

Laken leans in as she continues to stare the bastard down. “Is that all the family you have, Mr. Edinger? Just a grandfather? No one else on the planet to call your own?”

“Laken!” Her mother rasps it out, high and scratchy, like a parakeet. “Please forgive her, she has absolutely zero manners.”

“No, it’s quite all right.” He holds up a hand to quell her mother’s insolence. “There are others. But we’re all a part of God’s family, aren’t we? The world is too big, too full of good people to ever feel alone.” His lips curl up on the ends with wicked intent. “Like being part of a family you never knew existed.” He cuts his dark eyes to mine. “Family is a sacred gift.”

“That’s right,” Jones chimes in. “You can disown them all you like, but you can never change who you truly are.”

“Well”—Laken flattens her palms, glaring at the two of them like she were having a standoff—“let the record show that I would gladly give my life for the ones I love.”

Shit. “I would do the same.” I squeeze Laken’s hand.
I’d take a thousand bullets for you.

Demetri looks from Laken to me. “You know what they say when you make a bold proclamation like that—you’re twisting the hands of fate to test you.”

Laken’s chest thumps with a dry laugh. “I figured as much.”

I shoot the wicked bastard a dirty look. “So did I.”

So did fucking I.

Laken

Soon after the awkward family get-together, Jen and Blaine announce they’d like to take a quick stroll through the property, stranding Wes and I out here a little longer.

“I think I’ll take a nap.” Fletch stretches and yawns. “Wake me when it’s over.” He heads upstairs, cementing the fact we’re going to be here for a little while.

My faux parents have retreated to wherever wealthy Counts retreat, and Jones and Demetri are conferring about something on the porch with Ms. Paxton—most likely how they’re going to kill both Wes and I before the year is through.

“So what should we do?” I ask, eyeing them like a hawk with their pressured speech, Ms. Paxton’s face stretching back in horror.

“How about we take our own walk?” Wes runs his finger through my hair, a loose smile plays on his lips.

“Sounds good. This is a gorgeous place. I’d love to explore.” We head out the French doors that lead to the back of the estate. “You know what? Why don’t you go on down to the fountain? I think I’ll run to the restroom real quick.” I bite over my lip playfully. “I’ll just be a second.”

“Deal.” He lands his warm mouth over mine, and I soak in his kiss before tracking back through the house.

House
. I huff at the thought. More like a monolithic estate, a hotel, the
White
House. The Counts have no shame when it comes to displaying their wealth.

I make a beeline down the main hall and note Jones is still out front speaking with Demetri. Ms. Paxton is nowhere to be seen, so I assume she’s waiting for him in the car.

I’m not really going to the restroom. Earlier when I was looking for Wes, I discovered that Jones’s office is right next to the narrow hall that leads to the facilities. It’s not my fault if I happened to make a wrong turn.

I make my way down the limestone-covered hall and peer into the mahogany laden office before stepping inside, securing the door behind me. I really don’t know what I’m doing here other than snooping. God knows the Counts are too smart to leave a roadmap of the Tenebrous Woods lying around, but there has to be something, anything.

I head over to his expansive desk with that globe made of precious stones sitting heavy near the front. It smells of old musk and the hint of a pipe as I take a seat in his chair. The leather feels warm, soft like lambskin. I run my fingers over the ornate carvings on the rim of the wood before slipping the front drawer open—pencils, pens, some liquid correction as if to prove that Counts are capable of making a mistake. But I already knew that. I slip open the drawer to my right and am met with hundreds of blue files, each neatly marked off with its assigned task—water and power, taxes, gas, expenditures, receipts. I close the drawer and open the one beneath it. More files, boring as rice. Nothing but a meticulous accounting of his day-to-day life. I run my finger along them and stretch the drawer as far as it will go. The last file in the back catches my eye. In sloppy male handwriting, the letter L is emblazoned in small font as if it were ashamed to be there. I pluck it out and open it wide beneath the window as if begging the sun to help make out the murky pages. It looks like nothing more than a few bad print jobs the copier botched until I leaf back a few pages, and my heart stops. It’s those images that Coop and I were getting—the ones of us together, locked in an embrace, our lips connected in lust. They’re all here. I had seen them in many forms, a picture on the wall, Coop found one emblazed on his pillowcase, and here I was holding the entire haunted collection.

The sound of heels clicking down the hall comes from afar, and I place the file back where it belongs no worse for wear. I slip out of the office and speed my way past the front doors where I see Ms. Paxton getting into Demetri’s luxury ride—far too fine a car for a simple English teacher to ever afford.

I make my way out the back and down to Wesley who sits by the reflecting pool waiting patiently.

My heart soars at the sight of him. A part of me wishes nothing ever changed, that we never left Kansas, and yet another part of me, a far more selfish part, is thankful that Cooper is in my life now.

Coop and Wes. I can only have one.

It makes me sick that I have to decide.

Another reason to hate the Counts.

Wes holds my hand as we follow the periphery of the woods as it leads down to a stream at the base of the hillside.

“So are you ready to take the next step? The Ensign meeting is coming up, and I put in a request to have us promoted.”

“Just like that?” I blink up at him. Wesley’s eyes explode a bright lime in contrast to the shadowed woods behind him. They hold the color of spring leaves—the evergreens wish they could be that green. “Why promote me? Why not Kresley or Carter or Fletch? Certainly they’ve been here longer.”

“Technically, you’ve been here since the beginning, just like me.” He brings my hand to his lips. “Laken, Jones is a special Count, and, as his niece, you’re afforded certain privileges.”

“What do you mean
special
?”

“He’s in charge of the East Coast division. There’s a faction council in each district, and he heads up the entire Eastern seaboard. He’s big, Laken, trust me.”

“And you? What makes you primed for the elevation in status? Is it because your fake mother runs the school?”

“No,” he says it with a quiet laugh. “I’m what the Counts call an Ember. That means my bloodlines qualify me as close to pure.”

“Close to pure, sounds dangerous.”

“It’s not. Actually it affords me the highest honors. The Counts have interclass levels. You can rise in the organization without pure bloodlines, but it’s much more difficult. My bloodlines, and yours, have the power to bolster us to the top of the league.”

“And if we get to the top, what then?”

“We take over officiating duties. Jones won’t lead forever. He’ll need someone to replace him, and as far as I can tell, I’m betting he’d like that to be you.”

“Dream on old man. And what about you?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll keep climbing the ladder and see where it takes me. Next Sunday night is the Ensign meeting. We’re going to elevate together, Laken. It’s an intimate ceremony that takes our bond to a whole new level. We’ll be one another’s Essentials.”

“Essentials? I thought I was already your spirit wife.”

His cheek cinches as if he were holding back a laugh. “An Essential is the next step.” The smile glides from his face. “It’s the consummation of our union, Laken. When two Counts as powerful as ourselves fasten to one another for eternity, it’s a sacred event. Our bodies, our souls, and our minds will become one for all of time and beyond.” Wes combs his fingers through my hair, and I erect a barricade over my thoughts while my heart pumps wild in my chest.

“
Wes
.” I pull him under the shadow of a birch as the stream sings a sad song, trickling down the property. “When we get my family out, you’re not really thinking of staying in this organization are you?” My hands glide up his sweater and smooth over his warm flesh.

“We can’t leave, Laken. That’s like trying to walk out of your skin. It can’t just happen.”

“So you want us to change the way the Counts behave? Free the people in the tunnels? That could be our life work.”