Evanescent (15 page)

“Pearl,” I say unsure of whether or not I
want to proceed. I’d much rather take Laken back to the house even
if means risking a lecture from my dad. “We’re going to take you to
the lab where they did this to you.”

“Ezrina,” she gurgles, sounding like an
injured dog in the process.

“Yes, Ezrina. She’s going to try and fix
this for you. Are you okay with that?” I take a step toward her.
She’s small in stature. Her bent frame makes her look far more
fragile and older than she really is. I’ve taken on Spectators
twice my size before and have managed to end up on the winning side
of the battle every single time. Although, all it would take is one
good bite, and everything changes forever. A first generation
Spectator has the ability to damn me to their unfortunate
lifestyle. Wes and Laken are second gen. Laken is welcome to bite
me every night of the week if she wants.

“How do we get down to the Transfer?”
Laken’s chest pumps with adrenaline.

I shake my head. “You wouldn’t believe it if
I told you—just follow me, and trust you’ll survive.” I pull her in
gently and press a kiss against her forehead.
I would never hurt
you, Laken
.
I love you
.

“I trust you.” She gives a furtive nod with
fear spreading wide over her features.

Can you hear me?
I ask.

Laken doesn’t answer, just blinks into me
while trying to control her breathing.

Looks like this might end up a magical night
after all.

I was once told that hauling yourself off
the Matapeake cliff was one of the most efficient entries into the
Transfer as far as this end of Connecticut is concerned. That
usually doesn’t work for me for two reasons, one, it’s a fifty
minute drive with no traffic, and two, I’m usually hauling
unwilling Spectators or their carcasses at the time. The second
best way to get to that alternate dimensional plane is to run like
hell into the boulders that cluster at Diamond Peak just north of
the woods on campus. A clearing stems from the forest over to the
colossal wall of granite, affording a nice little runway.

“When I say go, haul ass like you’ve never
done before.” I give a quick wink to Laken, while pulling her in by
the hand. I’ve strapped Pearl over my shoulders, cinching her
ankles and wrists together with my fingers. I’ve yet to bring a
Spectator to the Transfer willingly, and yet I don’t think she
could keep up even if I tried to pull her.

“This is so messed up.” Laken shakes her
head at the impending target as the moon sprays the stones a
glorious, luminescent blue.

“Ready, go!” I shout as we cut through the
clearing, the wind slices through our clothes, sharp as knives.

I catch a glimpse of Laken just shy of the
boulders. She twists her face away from the prospective doom and
squeezes her eyes shut tight.

The granite vibrates and hums as we enter in
through the strange portal. We slip in through a warble of air,
thick as syrup as we land feet-first in the slick white halls of
the lab.

“It worked!” Laken pulls me into an embrace
with her lips brushing over my cheek.

“We made it,” I say, lowering Pearl to her
unsteady feet. “You okay?” I bow into her and examine the fear in
her eyes as if her final moments were on the horizon, and they
might be.

“Okay.” She nods, darting her head every
which way as if anticipating an apocalypse.

“As far as I can tell, this is the main hub
of the Transfer.” I take up Laken’s hand, ready and willing to give
her the tour. “There’s a mansion out on the east side and a series
of hills and rivers that snake throughout the terrain. I’ve found
three waterfalls and a lake. The inhabitants aren’t too fond of
Nephil-humans, so I don’t venture outside the lab, too often.”

“Lakes and rivers? Waterfalls and mansions?
Sounds magical.” Laken bounces on her toes as if excited to see
it.

“It’s not magical—demonic maybe. It’s more
haunted than it is romantic, but if you want”—I tick my head toward
Pearl—“after, I can show you around.”

“I want.” Laken tenderly clasps our fingers
together. “I want to know the things you know. I never want there
to be secrets between us.” She glances down a moment. “It’s funny
because I keep saying that to Wes—and with you, I really feel like
you hear the things I say. That you’ll keep your word and expose me
to your world without hesitating.” She swallows hard. “I don’t know
why the truth is so hard for some people.”

I shake my head. “I can’t say I’m too sorry,
Laken. I’ve never been that impressed with Wes. You deserve
better.”

Laken glances up. Her eyes widen with
surprise at my brazen putdown of the love of her life.

“This way,” I whisper before I say something
else that lands me in a bed by myself tonight. I lead Pearl and
Laken down hall after hall until we hit an open room that’s
cavernous in nature with a set of steel beds lining the center. The
putrid stench of death fills the air like a gas. It makes Pearl’s
scent seem like a floral bouquet on a summer afternoon.

“Cooking something up for dinner?” I tease
as we make our way over to the old bat hunched at the counter.

Ezrina turns around, and Laken lets out a
gasp.

Ezrina has a wild appeal in general. I
suspect she’s used to the gasps and screams. Her orange hair sprays
out like some demonic Bozo, her skin looks poorly stitched
together, and she’s wrinkled and haggard beyond recognition of ever
being human. Her crooked frame outshines that of Pearl’s in the
I’m-so-much-more-damn-scarier-than-you department.

“Visitors?” Her voice sounds like nails on a
chalkboard, and to add to the misery, it has a knack for
echoing.

“You know Laken and Pearl. They’ve both been
victim to your resurrection methods, one less successful than the
other.”

“The Counts!” She lifts her hand to me as if
she’s ready to smack me, and I yield to her twisted logic.

“I know it’s not you. It’s the Counts.” I
shake my head a moment. “We need Pearl here spit shined and ready
to go with a brand new version of herself in time for the weekend.
She’s got a hot date.” I wink over at Laken. I’ve never had a
serious conversation with this battle-ax, and I’m not about to
start now.

Ezrina puts down the wicked tool she’s
wielding and circles around Pearl. She pulls the Spectator’s hair
back and inspects her neck for signs of trauma.

“Can be done,” she gravels.

“You can do this?” Laken steps into her,
indignant at the possibility. “You can fix all these poor
Spectators?”

“Try.” Ezrina shuffles toward the metal
bathtub and begins to fill it with a blue solution from a hose off
the floor.

“She’s not too big on complete sentences,” I
whisper as we watch her gather her instruments of torture.

Pearl hobbles in close, her gaze drifts from
me to Laken.

“I be okay?” she asks, vulnerable and
afraid.

I don’t know what to tell her. She might die
in a few minutes if things go very wrong and if history is in the
mood to repeat itself, things will go very wrong.

Laken steps in and offers Pearl an
all-encompassing embrace. She rubs her back and rocks her for a
moment as if she were comforting a child.

“If Cooper trusts Ezrina, then so do I.”
Laken pulls back with her arms still around the Spectator like they
were old friends. “As soon as we get word about your restoration,
we’ll be back to pick you up. You won’t be alone in the world. I
promise.”

Tears stream from the malformed girl as she
strains to look up at Laken. Her entire person shivers with hope,
and it makes me feel like shit because deep inside I don’t
anticipate things ending well.

“Let’s go.” I pull Laken into me and lead
her out of the room. “I’ll check on you in the morning, Pearl,” I
say as we walk toward the exit. I look right into her innocent
eyes. “You’re in good hands.”

“Cooper?” Ezrina tucks her chin and glowers
at me as if she might carve up my head with a paring knife for the
fun of it.

I stop shy of the doorway, and she limps on
over.

“Per the Countenance, the Spectators must
die.”

I give the slightest hint of a nod.

“I have a way,” Ezrina looks slightly more
than proud of her extermination method, whatever it might be. “All
of them dead.” She heads back toward Pearl as I guide Laken out of
the defunct laboratory, quick as possible.

“Don’t start with that one,” I shout as we
take off.

Pearl lets out a howl of either pain or
approval as we sail toward the exit.

All of them dead.

I give a hard blink. The thought of
committing murder on a mass scale doesn’t sit well with me. I won’t
do it. Wes and the Counts have another thing coming. I’ve got a gut
feeling there will be blood on my hands, only it won’t have
anything to do with the Spectators.

We step out of the lab and into the dull,
still night, perpetually illuminated by a lavender-blue sky. I
point out the mansion in the distance—tall and boxy with an
undeniable prowess. Its large wrought iron gates swing open like
wings.

“Creepy.” Laken hugs my right arm as we move
along the cobbled streets. A crowd barrels in this direction, all
of them chattering a million miles an hour—women with their old
fashioned hairstyles, their odd dresses that hang to the floor with
expansive hoopskirts, bustles up top that accentuate their assets.
A man with a handlebar mustache escorts two women with their arms
hooked at the elbows.

“They look straight out of the eighteenth
century,” Laken gasps. “Are they?”

“No clue.” I pull her to the side as they
approach, but one of the women makes it a point to walk right
through Laken.

“Oh my, God!” A bubbling laugh escapes her.
“Did that just happen?”

“That just happened.” I tighten my grip
around her waist, and she relaxes into me with her soft curves.
“They like to mess with us. They’re not hospitable to guests.”

“You said there were waterfalls. Can we see
those?” Laken looks as enthused and happy to be here as a kid at an
amusement park. I can’t say I blame her. The Transfer has all the
qualities of a haunted theme park and then some. It’s one hell of a
ride, that’s for sure.

“This way.” I lead us down a darkened path
that takes us straight through a forest. The trees bend
unnaturally, nothing you’d find in nature with their corrugated
leaves, their charred trunks and branches. Everything needs a
little TLC, a miracle, to even hope to survive.

The hills knot up on the horizon, and we
crest the top and take a seat in the shaggy pasture.

“It looks amazing in a morbid sort of way.”
She leans in and sighs.

The waterfalls can hardly afford a trickle.
The lake below is more than slightly dehydrated.

“I don’t know what this world is about—why
the residents seem to prefer the fashion sense of yesterday, or
even why and how Ezrina ended up here. But I do know that for
whatever reason, for whatever purpose, someone wanted my family to
have access to this place. I don’t believe in coincidences, Laken.
We’re both here for a very specific reason.”

I pull her back onto the lawn with me. Our
eyes lock for a moment, and the air thickens between us with
possibilities. Laken lies down, and I pull myself gently over her,
positioning my neck where she could draw from it with ease.

“Go ahead,” I encourage. “Take whatever you
need from me. I want you to have it.”

“Coop.” Laken reaches up and traces my lips,
my eyes with her fingertips. “You’re amazing, you know that?” The
words come out in a broken whisper.

“I think you have it backward. If anyone is
amazing, it’s you. Thank you for trusting me.”

Her fingers trace down to my neck, stroking
me with all of the affection she can afford.

“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for
all you’ve done—that you’re about to do.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

Her fingers curl around the back of my neck
and she sinks me down to her lips.

Just love me, Laken. That’s all I would
ever want in return
.

But she doesn’t hear it.

Wesley

Cooper Flanders’ truck sits parked in front
of Melville all night long and into the early hours of the morning.
By the time I shower and dress and head out to check on it again, I
find it missing.

The sun crests over the library in the
distance only to meet up with a layer of rust-colored clouds. The
air holds the scent of pines and unearthed soil as a few restless
bodies sprint by, sacrificing sleep for fitness.

My phone reads seven-thirty. I’m not sure if
Coop’s ever crashed at Melville before, but when I scanned the
house for him at two a.m., I sure as hell couldn’t find him.

My messages sit empty. I texted Laken last
night, and she didn’t answer. I thought maybe we could talk a
little. I wanted to share just enough about the Tenebrous Woods to
prepare her for the journey, but she never texted back.