Vex (42 page)

I’m greeted at the entry with a giant black and white poster of Kate in her cheer uniform. Next to it sits a fishbowl with dollars brimming from it. The sign reads, The Kate Winston Scholarship Fund.

“Isn’t that great?” Chloe appears by my side. Her perfume wraps itself around my neck like a noose. I turn and note the skin on her face is unnaturally pocked, her bare arms dotted in the same peculiar manner. It looks offensive, contagious to say the least. “You could be the award recipient,” she continues, “can you imagine how rich the irony would be? I could laugh my head off just thinking about it.” Her hot breath dives down my back like a snake. “Too bad she didn’t have a boyfriend you could steal.”

It’s hard for me to drag my eyes off Chloe’s newfound deformity. She’s so damn haughty, it makes me wonder if she’s aware of the situation herself. Otherwise she’s stunning. Her long black hair swoops under in a series of soft curls, and she wears a red strapless gown that stops six inches above her knees.

“I don’t steal boyfriends, Chloe. You do.”

“You think I’ve achieved my goal?” She lingers beside me, stretching her neck. “He still has a heart for you,” the words fumble from her tongue unnaturally.

“It’s called love.” I see Brielle on the dance floor, alternately throwing her arms up over her head, causing the split in her dress to open and close like a mouth. Her belly peeks out, round and bulbous, like a flesh colored jawbreaker.

Marshall steps into my line of vision. He openly gazes at me while a group of girls barrage him for attention.

“So how do you like East?” I ask.

“Gage and I like it just fine. I must say, you have a knack for botching things up beautifully.”

She’s right. When I screw up, I don’t mess around.

“Chloe,” I take in an unexpected breath. Her skin is rapidly protruding into projectile bumps. I try to ignore it. “There are so many guys who would kill to love you. Why not find someone that feels the same way about you? Why lacerate Gage with your unwanted affections?”

A serious look of anguish washes across her face. OK, so maybe that last barb wasn’t necessary.

“I would do anything to have what you do,” her words break with emotion. “Gage and Logan on a leash? The hottest Sector in the universe?” She holds back a laugh. “And Ellis who talks about you like you’re some kind of unblemished goddess?” She sticks her finger down her throat and pretends to gag.

I see Marshall off in the distance just as he gives a lewd grin in my direction. He excuses himself from a crowd of adoring girls and begins to make his way over.

“Look,” I revert my attention back to Chloe, “I know for a fact Demetri is a Fem. The Fems and Sectors are playing us, Chloe. They know that you, and I, and Logan have powerful bloodlines. The last thing they want is for us to unite.”

“Is that what you want? Unity?” Something in her softens.

“And Gage.” What I really want is her away from him. I already have Gage and always will on the most intimate level.

“And Gage,” she sweeps the floor with her gaze. “Well,” that dark tunnel of nothingness returns to her eyes as she draws back her shoulders. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.” She’d no sooner give up Gage than she would breathing. Gage is her religion—the god she lays her sacrifice of flesh in front of day after day in hopes that he’ll deem her worthy and have her. 

 “Ladies,” Marshall steps between us, and Chloe does a disappearing act.

God, if I could get Chloe on my side, on my own, I could avoid the oncoming collision with Marshall and his amped up testosterone. But that’s an impossibility, like pulling water from a stone. You’d need a higher power to perform that function, and who would want to waste a miracle on someone as rotten as Chloe?

Marshall pushes in a warm kiss right on my lips, and I pull back and gasp.

“Relax,” he motions around the room. “It’s a friendly atmosphere, there’s lots of music and merry making.” He gives a short-lived smile before tweaking his head to the side and narrowing in on me with great suspicion. “Your lips…you kissed someone.”

“No,” I shake my head. Oh that’s right, but, technically
he
kissed
me
.

“Skyla,” he depresses a sigh, “things would have gone so much smoother if you had followed simple instructions. It wasn’t the pretty one, was it?”

My cheeks fill with heat. “Just FYI, you’ve been excellent at terrorizing him.”

“I’ll be distributing payment for his folly later this evening—make anyone think twice before looking at the spirit sword again.”

My cell goes off. It’s a text from Mom.

It looks grave. Pray.

“It’s Holden.” I cover my mouth.

“I hear Ethan is looking forward to the family reunion,” Marshall glances around the room, bored.

“And Holden?”

“Well, I suppose we’ll sense his presence shortly. Might I suggest no more promises to celestial fleabags?”

“Point taken. So let’s talk about the terms of our agreement.”

“I like this astute business side of you. Do tell.” His features darken as though he’s not amused.

“Chloe leaves Gage and me the hell alone forever.” Knowing Marshall, had I not highlighted the fact this arrangement should be permanent, it wouldn’t be. “Make Holden disappear, again, forever. I really want to know Logan and Chloe’s secret, and get me out of civic duty.”

“Skyla,” Marshall scoffs at my last requests.

“OK, then make sure none of that time is spent under Demetri’s supervision. I’d rather die than be at his mercy, or lack thereof.”

“Excellent point. I’ll have the community service reverted to the ranch. The llamas create a horrendous mess.”

“That’s why I love you, Marshall.” I place a hand over his chest, and invite that channel of pleasure to tremble through my veins.

“You do?”

“In the loose sense.” I give a circular nod. “I’d much rather be cleaning stalls with you than picking up trash off the side of the road with Demetri.”

My cell goes off again.

“Uh-oh.” God, I secretly hope Holden’s not dead. I hate dead, even if it can be a temporary condition. But it’s not Mom—it’s Logan.

Can you do me a big favor and pick me up? I’m at Devil’s peak
.

I dart my gaze around the room, looking for Gage.

B right there. ~S 

“Hey, have you seen Gage anywhere?”

Marshall squints into me.

“Sorry, the music’s too loud, can’t hear you. Oh, look, Ms. Richards requires my assistance. I’ll be back soon.” He takes off so fast he leaves a vacuum in his wake.

I put a call into Gage, but there’s no answer. 

I’ll get Logan myself, and if he’s got his priorities straight, he can help me look for Gage.

I pick up the dress of steel and bolt for the door, running into a tangle of bodies in the process.

“Hey!” Michelle pushes me back, knocking me off balance. “Watch where you’re going.”

“Where you off to?” Nat crosses her arms. Her face is swollen, her skin alive with giant craters that mimic the ones on Chloe. I think Marshall is doling out the punishment tonight across the board. “Got another so-called friend, you want to snuff the life out of? Show off some more of your guillotine maneuvers?” She snarls like she wants a fight, and I can’t say I blame her. I walk past her, and Pierce pops up like a jack-in-the box.

“Your brother is dying, again,” I say. “Just thought you’d like to know.”

“Cool,” his head twitches back a notch.

Nice. I’m really starting to feel sorry for Holden now, although I probably shouldn’t. I should feel sorry for Gage who is suddenly missing, and probably bound and gagged in one of Marshall’s many dark closets.

And what’s the big kissing deal with the dress anyway? It’s not like it was going to mesmerize me into taking off with Marshall and living happily ever after. It wasn’t, was it?

Chapter Seventy-Three
  

Kiss Off

“I don’t get it,” I whisper to myself as I fast approach Devil’s peak. I saw Gage’s truck in the resort parking lot not too far from where I was parked. I’ve called him a dozen times since I left and texted at every red light. He’s probably far worse off than being hogtied in Marshall’s colossal abode—Holden might not be the only one in need of new physical housing, what if Gage is
dead
? I straighten at the thought.

Marshall must have disposed of him after he got to the dance. He said it was important that he were the first one I kiss in this dress, and he knew I would kiss Gage the second I saw him.

I pull into the desolate parking lot overlooking Devil’s Peak.

It’s so creepy here at night, alone. I half expect an entire army of clown Fems to race out of the bushes and attack me. God—what if Gage is being held hostage by one? I’d be completely useless to him then.

Anyway, I’m not getting out of the car. Logan can have two broken legs, and I’m not getting out to help him. This whole thing was probably just a ruse to get me alone, so he can capture me—finish off what he started at the stone circle gathering. And this time, I seriously doubt that includes making my blood useless to the Counts.

There’s a light knock at the driver’s side window, and I startle in my seat.

It’s just Logan.

He opens the door and reaches over to the radio, fidgets with it until he settles on a soothing rhythm.

“Can I have this dance?” He helps me out of the car.

“Is that what this is about? Gage is missing, we have to find him,” I say, stretching out my limbs as I stand.  

He wraps his arms around my waist, locks his gaze onto mine. The dress lets off a blissful sensation, spasms over me in waves as I drawn near to him. It creates a powerful pull—Logan is the moon, and I am the tide. 

“We have to find him,” I breathe the words out in less than a whisper as his lips sweep over mine so soft they leave me searching for more in their wake. I seal my mouth firmly over his, and something releases in me—clemency from the self-imposed chains around my heart. There’s a crack in my existence. A torrent of wild birds flutter out of my soul—emancipated by way of Logan’s tongue.  

I never planned on falling into a series of mind numbing kisses with Logan. The hostile thrashing of the waves below crush the sound of the music as we dance in rhythm to our own tune. I give way to the allure of the moment. It feels right, as though we were on the cusp of something momentous, and the only way to get there is by way of our bodies. He raises my arm up in the air and sweeps his tongue along the tender underbelly halfway up my elbow—hot, like a track of lingering fire. Then it’s as if an explosion goes off, a grenade, a time bomb. And we’re wrestling for each other’s attention, a deep well of lust that can never be satisfied. We land hard in the backseat of his car. I claw off his jacket, his shirt—his pants and underwear disappear so quick, I don’t have time to analyze boxers or briefs. I run my hands up and down over his beautiful skin, warm and alive with affection for me.

In one heated moment, my dress is pulled over my waist. It is all out animal, gripping, and tearing, and biting, in turn. Kisses like a fever, love that swelters in delirium—erotic, exotic, and proud. A generous display of affection that feeds both our carnal desires.

“I love you.” There, I said it. Like the releasing of an arrow, all of the weight and tension those words bound me with, absolved in three little words.

I reach up and press my palm against the cool of the window before I feel it erupt with an explosive knock on the other side.

Shit!

We sit up, startled out of our love struck stupor.

What the hell just happened?

I pull down my dress and turn away from a very clothing deficient Logan.

The driver’s door opens, revealing Demetri in all his Paragon P.D. glory. His shiny gold badge flickers like a candle.

“What have we got here? True love in bloom? Displays of public affection are considered crass and looked down upon. Normally I’d ask the two of you to take the party elsewhere, but since your mother is a good friend of mine, Skyla—I’m going to ask you to return to the venue which suits your attire.”

Perfect. Not only is Tad worried about the security of my virginity, so is my father’s killer. Twisted. But, for once, I’m glad for the interruption. God—I almost lost it to Logan, of all people. And, to think, I wanted to. I would have opened for him like a rose in full bloom, craving the warm tender rays of the sun.

“I’ll be in charge of your civic work,” Demetri gives a brief smile. “I plan to best utilize your services. I hope to broaden your horizons—mold you into the well-rounded girl you were meant to be. I’ll look after you as if you were my own daughter,” he gives a narcotic smile. “Wear comfortable shoes.”

He gets back into his patrol car and pulls out of the lot.

“Um,” I turn slightly to see a fully dressed Logan with his shirt buttoned the wrong way. “I think we should get back.” I crawl onto the passenger’s side as he takes the wheel. “I don’t know what just happened, but I’m sure Marshall and his haunted dress are to blame.”  

An air of desolation spirals around the two of us as he starts up the car and careens back onto the main highway.

“I didn’t need that dress to feel that way, Skyla.” You would think he were eulogizing our relationship the way he drags each word out in grief.

I never said I needed it either.  

Chapter Seventy-Four

Trouble in the Treble

Logan parks in haste, and we race inside to see if there’s any clue to Gage’s whereabouts. If he’s at all in the facility, Chloe would have sniffed him out by now. She’s honed her stalker-like tendencies on him pretty damn well.

The hall is thumping, alive with people from East and West. It’s so loud and dim, it’s disorienting—nothing but a tangle of limbs on the dance floor. I have a feeling we’re going to get separated, so I grab him by arm, and pull him in.

“Logan, please tell me what you know. All of these bad things will stop happening to Gage, and I’ll make sure they stop happening to you, too.”

“You’ve been doing that stuff?” He tilts his head in disbelief.