Ephemeral (The Countenance) (56 page)

“So you’re saying she’s her normal self.” I lean into him as his chest rumbles alongside mine.

“I think we should do something to commemorate us as a couple.” He jostles into my shoulder as he says it.

“Time travel?” I blink up at him, trying to usher the fact, I’ve already done it once tonight, out of my mind.

“I’m still working on that. I have just enough juice to get us somewhere and not bring us back.”

“Oh, right.”
Juice
.

“I think we should head to Charity next weekend—I can teach you to use your powers.” He pulls me in under the fat belly of the moon. “I promise you one thing,” he whispers as he lands a gentle kiss across my lips, “it will be unforgettable.”

Austen House is frazzled with girls huddled around the fireplace recanting every last detail to a rather peeved-looking Ms. Paxton. Wes goes over to talk to her while I hunt down Jen.

I run upstairs and smack into a giant cushion of a body as I turn the corner.

It’s Grayson in her silk-robed glory.

“I saw you tonight,” she hisses, her burgundy lips set in a snarl.

“Yes, and I saw
you
. We were all there, remember?” I try to dart around, but she blocks my path.

“You were with him,” she accuses. “You’re cheating on Wes with Cooper.” She says it so freaking loud I flinch at the thought that maybe Wes heard.

“I’m with Wes. He’s downstairs right now waiting for me.” Oddly, it feels like a betrayal to Cooper to say that. Wes is a compass—a guide to the nexus of this wickedness. But until I release him from the stranglehold the Counts have on his memory, a part of him remains a counterfeit. 

“Tell me you don’t like Cooper Flanders.” She drills her vacant eyes into me like a dare.

“Everybody
likes
Cooper Flanders.” I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks. “He’s just a friend. He’s helping me with lit.”

She swallows down a laugh. “You are such a liar. I saw the two of you take off in the forest.” Her eyes gleam with vicious pleasure. “I’m going to hang you, Laken. When I’m through, you won’t have Wes or Cooper to lean on. Not even Flynn will want to come near you. I don’t know how they can even stomach you after you got high out of your fucking mind and nailed half the basketball team.”

“I did?” That vision I had when Miles forced his lips upon me replays in my mind like a movie.

“Some rumors don’t lie.” Her lips curl victoriously.

“Is that what I did at Rycroft?” I say it more to myself than Grayson. And Jen still thought I was a virgin? I bet it was the zero-drug policy that supposedly got me booted and not the zero “going down on jocks” policy.

“Must have stung like hell when your own boyfriend found you—reported you to campus officials. Boys turn on you, Laken. And, I’m going to make sure Cooper and Wes do exactly that. You’re so damaged it’s sickening.” She knocks into my shoulder as she takes off downstairs.

That’s what I supposedly did? The basketball team?

I’m going to find the bastard that devised my alternate identity and strangle him with my bare hands. I could have done any number of things to get expelled and none of them needed to make me look like some female version of Tucker, the man-whore of Cider Plains.  

I’ll have to be extra careful with Coop. The last thing I need is the white-haired witch dismantling everything I’m working so hard to get back—namely Wes in all his former glory. I need Wesley in my life more than ever and for far stranger reasons than I could have imagined.

The door to my bedroom sits ajar, and I can hear Jen giggling, but its pitch black inside.

Dear God, she’s finally ditched her sanity.

I flick on the lights and jump back at the sight.

Shit!

Jen and a very bare-chested Jackson spike up on her bed. Her hair is disheveled, and a crimson smudge lies over both their lips.

Oh my, God.

“I was just getting a sweater.” I back out of the room without bothering.

“We were just talking!” Jen shouts after me.

I turn off the lights and shut them inside.

Looks like Jen found someone to share kisses with, and from the looks of the lust-filled map drawn over their faces, they were anything but chaste.

Time to have a little unchaste time myself, with Wes. Although the idea of surrendering myself to this new version feels a lot like I’m cheating on the Wesley I once knew. Maybe it’s me who needs to wait for
his
memory to restore itself.

56

Zombie Nights

Wes and I drive over to his mother’s house where he swears he has a real bedroom just like the rest of civilization.

“I’ll have to see it with my own eyes.” I try to smear it with as much disbelief as possible. Truth is, I would love another piece to the puzzle that is Wesley Paxton. This mysterious persona who’s hijacked someone so pure and simple and turned him into a viable monster.

I’m still wearing the navy dress from earlier. There was no way I was going to ruin Jen’s foray into French kissing.

I glance over at Wes as he drives—so silent and strong with his chest broad as a wall. The thought of him kissing me used to give me pleasure. Now it twists my insides with an ever-so-slight ache. The Tobias sisters, well, Hattie, said that I’d always have an affection for Wes but that my heart belonged to Cooper.

I drop my gaze to the dashboard and feel the weight of those words. I’m not sure I’m willing to admit she was right—ever.

The houselights are on as Wes and I head up.

“She said she left in a hurry—didn’t think she locked the doors.” He spins the knob confirming her theory. Wes waits for me to cross the threshold first, a perfect gentleman in every way.

A dark shadow elongates from the kitchen, and I hop behind Wes, startled.

“It’s just me.” Mr. Edinger holds his hands out as he makes his way into the living room. “Ellen mentioned she had an emergency, so I wanted to come by and see if everything was okay.” He holds up a sandwich. “A quick bite never hurt, either.” The chandelier casts a pale halo over him as he takes us both in. “I was just leaving, in fact.” He gives Wes a knowing wink.

“No, it’s okay.” Wes tries to play it off like it was nothing, like we weren’t going to head upstairs and see how much my memory, or his, really mattered in our unification efforts.

“I’ll show myself out the back.” He settles his gaze over me for a moment. His brows dip over his hooded eyes. They clue the world in on his sinister nature. Mr. Edinger hides a secret laugh just beneath his perennial smirk. “I see you’re through with your tutor.”

Is he talking about Cooper?

“So many papers to work on this year,” he continues, “I’m sure you’ll grow to know him quite intimately.” There it is, that drawl I heard in the Transfer. It couldn’t have been him down there, could it? “Good night,” he says before heading into the kitchen. “Careful what decisions you make.” He drags out the words, his gaze never wavering. “Especially when you think no one’s watching.” He nods before disappearing into the kitchen.

Those candid pictures pop into my mind like a junk drawer shaking out old snapshots.

There’s something altogether off about him—haunting. It’s as if we’ve met long before I ever came to Ephemeral, and I can’t place where or when. One thing’s for sure, I don’t trust Mr. Edinger.

Wes spins me around and pins me with a kiss before I could protest. “That was close.” He bites down gently on my lower lip and tugs gently before letting go. “Imagine his surprise if he found us upstairs.” He sears me with his lust. “Reading our
lit
books.”

I tremble into him with a laugh. Wes is hungry, and I’m starting to feel an awful lot like a meal.

His cheek rides up on one side as he examines me. “I’d better run up and make sure I don’t have any old socks hanging around. They could be lethal, and I’ve made it my personal mission in life to protect you.” He dots my nose with a kiss. “I’ll just be a sec.”

“Just a sec?” I plead.

“Promise,” he calls as he bolts up the stairs.

I plop down on the couch and wrap my arms around my waist. It’s strange here, cold, like Ms. Paxton is secretly living with poltergeists. I bet she has an entire camp of demons shacking up with her, one of them being Mr. Edinger.

The loud start of a motor goes off in the kitchen, and I snatch my feet up off the floor. It goes out quick as it came, leaving a startling silence in its wake.

“Wes?” I call out. Maybe there’s another staircase leading to the kitchen?

The motor goes off again and this time lasts twice as long.

“It’s just me.” The not-so-friendly voice of Mr. Edinger calls from beyond the dining room.

Before I can say okay or calm myself out of my newfound fetal position, the motor goes off again—swear to God it sounds just like a freaking chainsaw. I’m going to kill Carter for putting that idea in my head.

“Laken?” Mr. Edinger calls from above the noise. “You mind coming here for a minute? I seemed to have lost something.”

I head on over. He probably accidently turned on the mixer trying to heat his sandwich and it emulsified to nothing. Mom once said that men didn’t know their way around a kitchen, and it looks like Mr. Edinger is about to prove her theory correct.

I’m greeted with a vast island in a kitchen four times the size the one we had back home. Something odd catches my attention on the peppered granite—a knife standing erect on the tip of its blade.

Holy shit.

I step back, jarred by the odd sight.

It’s probably magnetized or something. People are forever filling their kitchens with all kinds of useless gadgets as evidenced by late-night infomercials. Looks like Ms. Paxton found a way to one up gravity.

“Laken.” A deep voice husks from behind.

I pivot on my heels.

Mr. Edinger…

I let out a scream that razors out of my throat like fire.

His severed head sits tucked in his arm like a football—his neck nothing but a bloodied stump. An artery shoots blood toward the ceiling like a burgundy fountain.

His swollen eyes roll up at me, and he gives a menacing smile.

“Shit!”

I bolt past my headless first period teacher. I race out the front door, and into the night so fast I don’t even consider screaming for Wes. I’m on autopilot, and my feet plan on carrying me all the way home to Kansas where I should have gone the first day I landed this side of hell.

The woods across the way beckon me with their slender blue trunks. They promise a nocturnal shelter in lieu of the madness that rules this new world. I sail past the first few layers of pines before looking back at the dull cast of light emanating from the Paxton house.

Not a footstep thumps from that direction.

A viral stream of fog builds around me as I pant hard into the night.

What the hell just happened?

I pluck the phone out of my bra like some cellular holster and punch in a quick text.

Woods across the street. Help!!!!
  It’s not until I hit send do I realize I sent it to Coop instead of Wes.

“Take two,” I hiss, resending the message to Wes.

A hand falls hard over my shoulder.

God, Cooper is fast.

I twist fully, expecting to see his handsome face, his brick wall of a body ready to shelter me from whatever evil Mr. Edinger is capable of.

My body seizes at the sight, and I let out a scream that rattles on for miles.

A tall, partially resurrected, nefariously dark, and most certainly not handsome Spectator digs his grip into my shoulder.

A hard grunt emits from deep in the creatures throat. His thick rumpled skin sags unnaturally over his sharp, protruding bones. A flap of skin hangs over his neck exposing dehydrated muscle and veins like shredded cords.

I dart past him, but he thrashes me against the trunk of a tree with unreasonable strength.

His hand comes down over the top of my skull, striking it hard as a hammer, and my head explodes in a fit of pain. For a moment the world compresses into darkness. The stars and landscape swarm together and melt like a dream before reconstituting themselves.