Expel (47 page)

Chapter 82

Promtastic

 
 
 
The Madison Lights Ballroom dwarfs any other grand location we’ve managed to assemble in style. A plethora of twinkle lights wrap around nearly a dozen miniature trees lining the periphery of the room. A blue glow tints the ceiling, illuminates from the stage just beyond the dance floor. West and East are present, although it’s a smaller student body count considering it’s the junior, senior prom, and by the end of this evening, I’m hoping to subtract one more from the guest list.

Gage nods into me from across the room. His dark hair is slicked back, his dimples pressed in, offering their secret smile. I set my shoulders back—straighten as I drink him in. He looks magnificent, an aristocrat, a man of nobility. I keep inhaling until my lungs hurt from the effort. His eyes laser into mine a cool glacial blue that relaxes me under their watchful supervision. I feel safe just knowing Gage is in the vicinity, that my voice could carry through the crowd and touch him even if I’m unable.

A glittering parade of hostile sequins quickly covers his person. Chloe shags out her dark hair and laughs as she attempts to strike up a conversation with him. She looks horrid in that band-aid of an outfit, like a siren from hell—hound to be precise.

“You are a stunning creature, Ms. Messenger,” Marshall stands tall beside me, resplendent and majestic.

“Thank you—and you clean up nicely yourself.” I try to sound casual. Truthfully, if someone were to lay eyes on him for the first time tonight, they’d risk having the breath knocked out of them.

“These mediocre humans,” he continues, “will one day realize the flagrant error of refusing to appreciate your eminence,” he purrs. “They would bow to your royalty if they knew the presence they were in.”

“It’s doubtful anyone will ever bow to me. Maybe if I drop a dollar to my feet.”

The bitch squad, sans its fearless leader, ogles me from a short distance.

“Miller at three o’clock,” I whisper. “You could get very lucky tonight. She’s lucid and dangerous. I’d like to volunteer her services once again for Fem training—Fem training in nocturne,” I hold back a laugh. “Sounds downright poetic.”

“You should never have coerced her into removing the necklace in the first place. How soon you had forgotten her wicked ways. Your forgiving nature is a magnificent flaw.”

“Too forgiving? Isn’t that the basic premise of the people from which you spawn?”

“Correction—created. No spawning or involuntary indwelling involved whatsoever. As for acquitting trespasses, what you suggest is true. However, your nature to forgive has resulted in your enemies flawed precept that you condone their aggressive behavior. It could prove deadly. I’m not sure you see this.”

“You know what I can see? One of those freaky mirrors you gifted Demetri is now a permanent fixture in the Landon residence.”

“Impossible.” He nods at a group of girls who strut by admiring him, sending all sorts of lewd invites with the lowering of their eyelids.

“No really, I convinced Demetri to give it to me after Chloe tried to buy it at the garbage sale. It’s in my mother’s bedroom as we speak.”

He gives a clear look of concern before pushing in close.

“Skyla, it’s impossible for Demetri to have gifted you the mirror. Once the mirror is gifted, it can no longer transfer ownership under any circumstance.”

“There’s still another one back at his estate.”

“There’s just one Realm of Possibilities in existence.”

“Are you sure you didn’t give him two? It was probably centuries ago and you forgot. There can’t be just one.”

“One, and one alone.”

“The one he gave me had a Fem inside. I saw it—scared the living crap out of me. You think the mirror in my mother’s bedroom is capable of the same kind of trickery as the one you gave him?”

“I can assure you, whatever mirror he dispensed cannot replicate the beauty and wonder of living in the fool’s paradise I had reserved for him. Do not under any circumstance go near that thing. I’ll be by in the morning to pick it up. I’ll have to find solid reasoning before removing it from the premises.” Marshall creases his forehead with irritation. Color rises to his cheeks, amplifies his anger. Very few things move him to the point of excitability, let alone anger.
 

“My parents are camping.” I catch a breath at the thought of referring to both Mom and Tad collectively as my parents but I let it slide since the music just hiked up ten decibels and brevity was necessary.

 
He gives a curt nod.
I’ll have it hauled out in the A.M. Please extend my condolences as it will meet with an unfortunate demise. I’ll have to destroy the mirror—above all things I am not a liar. And neither is your celestial mother. Watch carefully the words you let escape from those kissable lips. She has a zero tolerance policy when it comes to attitude. Do stray from provoking her to anger.

 
Chloe begins to make her way in this direction, a giant Fem eating grin plastered across her face.

“Help me get her to remove that binding spirit,” I say. “I want her arrested for making Gage and Logan kiss my grill.”

She bypasses us and begins cackling away with Michelle and Lexy, regarding her one on one with Gage.

Follow my lead
, Marshall turns a little in their direction. “So this mirror must be protected,” he shouts the words like a fire and brimstone preacher. “We can’t have anyone using it. It’s an absolute danger in the wrong person’s hands.”

“So, when can you get me that binding spirit?” I make a face at Marshall not sure if I had overstepped the line. The next thing you know I’ll be announcing the fact he’s a Sector and turning myself into the Counts.

“In the morning.” His eyes slit to nothing, letting me know exactly how far I pushed it.
She’ll need to disappear and retrieve the binding spirit herself. If Chloe leaves for any given amount of time you’ll know she’s releasing it from its duty and delegating its services elsewhere. If you’ll excuse me,
Marshall tilts his head in curiosity at something towards the back of the ballroom,
I need to tend to something myself.

Marshall stalks off at a frenetic pace. I’m tempted to follow him, but sure enough, I catch Chloe darting out the main entrance with a spark in her ass.

I shoot out after her, making sure to keep a respectable distance in the event she should turn around and gouge my eyes out with those three-inch cat claws she’s pressed onto her fingernails. But she doesn’t. Chloe moves with heightened determination. The opportunity to fornicate with Gage has presented itself, and she’s not one to pass up an offer when the right penis is involved.

While the rest of the student body rallies in the frivolity of prom, Chloe secures her lot in life. She opens the door to the ladies room and nearly mows down a group of seniors making their way out. I watch as they gawk at her overtly rude behavior.

From the corner of my eye I spot Ellis with his hands hidden beneath the skirt of his date.

I slip into the restroom and walk stall to stall in search of a familiar pair of sequined heels. Instead, I meet up with a pair of legs far too pale to belong to a cinnamon skinned Chloe, and the other pair have pink-laced hose pooling at the ankle, a crime in fashion that might have Chloe offing herself voluntarily for ever committing.

The door on the end is locked, no legs. I climb on the toilet of the neighboring stall and peer inside.

Empty with the exception of a heart-shaped purse hanging from the hook.

Time to witness Chloe, trying to kill Gage and Logan, first hand.

Chapter 83
 

Light Drive

I snatch Ellis away before he completely does a disappearing act beneath that hussies dress and whisk him off into the narrow service hall just shy of the entry.

“Wanna go on a quick light drive?” I’m not really giving him a choice.

“Code?” He takes up a defiant stance as though I am in fact a Fem.

“Love honeys,” I say, annoyed. “I need you to get Gage for me and meet me back here. Don’t let Logan see you.”

“Why can’t Logan see me?”

“Because
Holden
isn’t going to be too impressed with me going anywhere with Gage,” I hiss, scooting him back out into circulation.

“Why did you break up with Gage?” He leans in with concern.

“Never mind just hurry. We don’t have a lot of time. I having a stabbing I need to tend to by midnight.”

“As long as I’m not on the receiving end,” he mutters, taking off down the hall.

Nat and Pierce stroll by hand in hand. Pierce does a double take in my direction and heads on over.

“Got word from your lawyer you’re not dropping the charges.” His face is lost in shadows. Pierce has a menacing way about him when he’s not mad, let alone pissed.

“What?” Clearly I need to rein in Ellis’ mother. I specifically told her I wanted all this to go away. And isn’t she supposed to consult me when making big decisions? Especially asinine decisions like these? Obviously, it’s impossible to keep a Count in check.

“I’m staring down a three month stint in juvy, a sixty-five thousand dollar fine for intent to harm while under the influence.” He butts his shoulder into mine as Nat keeps watch from behind. His breath is soured. His cloud of cologne engulfs me thick as smoke.
  

“Wow, you said that well,” I gasp for breath. “You should consider a career in law.”

“Maybe I will. Persecute people like you who commit crimes and place the blame on others.”

“I believe you mean prosecute. And you can go to hell, Pierce. You’re no angel.” So what if he’s a Count? There seems to be a long road between being a Count and behaving like an angelic being. It’s a questionable relationship at best.

“Maybe I will,” he whispers. “Maybe I’ll take you with me,” the words ferment on his lips. “Or, maybe I’ll just take you someplace else.” He snatches a hold of Nat’s hand and her wiry curls spring wild as they race out of the narrow hall.

Shit. Talking to Ellis’ mother is on the top of my to-do list tomorrow unless of course I’ll need to use her as my one phone call from the precinct later tonight. But that’s not going to happen. Nothing is going to go wrong.

I try to shake off all the bad juju vibes as I shoo away Pierce’s nasty cologne like an unwanted ghost.

All kinds of insane thoughts run through my mind as I wait around for Ellis. What if Chloe is in my mother’s bedroom right this minute crawling into that twisted mirror of Demetri’s? What if she’s able to pull Gage’s look alike out of the mirror and there’s two of him running around the island? Knowing Chloe, she’d keep one prisoner in her bedroom and have her way with him nightly. What if she pulls another
me
out of the mirror and has me running around committing all sorts of felonies? Not that it would be such a stretch.

Gage and Ellis duck into the hallway. Gage looks amazing in his pressed inky suit. I pull him in and offer up a brazen kiss, let the warmth of his mouth comfort me. Gage is a man above gods. He groans into me before dislodging.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He nuzzles a kiss into my neck as he says it.

“It may be our only opportunity. The mirror will be gone by morning.” I grab a hold of Ellis and think about that horrible ill-fated night back in January.

“It’s time, Skyla,” my name trembles from the walls in a series of horrific echoes.

“Is that?” Gage cocks his head to get a better listen.

“Ezrina,” I pant. I’d recognize that twisted voice anywhere.

The world melts beneath our feet. Time splinters until as we slip through its stringent confines.

***

We land in the dirt field just outside the bowling alley, a light rain pelting us from above. The pungent scent of fresh mud mixed with the thick bouquet from the forest, ignites my senses. I hadn’t remembered the spice in the air, the cold feeling of the wind as it lights each raindrop on fire over my flesh. Then again, I was in shock. It’s a wonder I remember anything from that night at all.

“There,” I point over to Logan, Gage, and me, standing in the distance.

The Mustang pulls in slow, rolls to a stop before flicking on its headlights.

“I’ll go check it out,” Gage darts across the field, ducks just shy of the driver’s door.

“Who do you think it is?” Ellis looks suspiciously at the Mustang as it revs its engine.

“Do you even have to ask?” I hesitate adding Marshall into the equation. “Bishop.”

“Chloe?” His Nordic features looks unimpressed with my theory.

Gage runs back, squatting low to the ground.

“Well?” A hot spike of adrenaline surges through me. This is it. I’m going to hang Chloe upside down by her toenails once I have proof she and her claws were behind the wheel that night.

“Nobody’s in there,” the whites of his eyes glint like bicycle reflectors. “The seat’s empty.”

“No.” The thought of Marshall inflicting this horrible crime upon the two people I love most is unimaginable—unforgiveable.
 

The engine revs over and over, the Mustang accelerates, slamming into Logan and Gage. Logan slips down beneath the vehicle while Gage is struck over and over, pinned up against the trunk of a weathering pine. That tree should be hacked to pieces for involuntarily participating in the heinous crime—for not reaching down with its branches and snatching Gage up out of the line of fire. But I guess the same could be said for me, I froze like a coward—died a thousand deaths just watching.

“Let’s go back,” I grab a hold of Ellis and Gage.

My own cries fill the night as I scream in the background. They sound foreign, primal. Marshall inflicted this punishment on me.

Looks like I’ve just added another victim to my kill list tonight.

***

The Madison Lights Ballroom has dimmed considerably. Bodies slash around on the dance floor in and out of rhythm, a sea of arms and legs intertwine as they struggle to move to the impossibly loud music.

I see Holden over by a group of girls, seniors I don’t really know. He’s talking to a tall blonde and has his hand placed strategically over her thigh. Ordinarily, I would make a beeline over and slap him silly, but my hostility towards Marshall has eclipsed any anger I might have felt for Holden who was simply a spirit lying in wait for a new home. But it’s Marshall I’m interested in sending back to the Soulennium, the transport, the Transfer. I want him anywhere but here on planet Earth where he can hurt the ones I love.

Logan warms the sheath around me, ignites the dress in waves of approval regarding my newfound vendetta.

I spot Marshall towards the back with arms folded across his chest, staring stone cold into the crowd like an FBI agent officiating over the scene.

I push my way through the jostling bodies—split up Drake and Emily from a serious lip-lock on the way over, before finally landing square in front of him.

“You, are coming with me,” I roar, leading him towards the exit.

I’m startled to see we’ve landed ourselves outside. The concrete bleeds into sand.

“Romantic walk on the beach?” Marshall purrs, proud of his teleportation feat. “I was hoping you’d acclimate to me quickly, but this is a dream come true.” He gives the slight curve of a smile.

“The car was
empty
,” I mean for it to come out aggressive, but it comes out a sob as though I were ready to grieve my relationship with Marshall instead of kill it. A part of me still doesn’t believe he was capable. There’s no way I can surrender to hatred unless he asserts to the fact he spearheaded this tragedy. Then he’ll be dead to me, leaving a void he had filled so beautifully.

“Correction, Love, the car
appeared
empty,” he takes me by the hand and leads us over to a row of pigmy palms. “You were able to go back.”

I nod.

“I trust she’s already secured the mirror. Once she realizes it’s not the same pleasure cruise she’ll have the spirit back within the hour. Come,” he takes up my other hand gently by the fingers, “I’ll return to scene of the crime with you just this once.”

Marshall speeds us to the exact location I was standing in earlier with Ellis and Gage—only we’re not standing, we’re hovering near the Mustang. The rain pours through me as if I were a shadow.

I watch as the door opens, the engine turns before the car rolls forward—not a soul in sight.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Skyla,” Marshall corrects. “There
is
a soul in sight—tucked secure behind the wheel.”

“I don’t see anyone.”

“Open your spiritual eyes.” Marshall wands his hand over my face and I see a body, plain as day, sitting in the driver’s seat, reaching down and flicking on the lights.

“Oh my God,” I pant the words. “I should have known.”