Burn (32 page)

“Why the costume? Halloween was over five minutes ago.”

He strokes his chin with his finger, examines me as though I were missing something.

“Halo?” I ask, half serious.

“Don’t be a child. It’s simply an effect caused by the inner luminescence we’re known to give off. Come.” He walks further into the barn and pulls open the door to a huge empty stall.

I walk in without hesitating. It’s insane really—playing dress up with my Algebra Two teacher while he pens me in like an animal.
 

He shuts the door creating a rather strange partition
between us and the rest of the world
.

“What’s going on?”

“I wanted to see you like this. Youyou tsre the most exquisite creature on earth,
Skyla
.” He gives a thoughtful nod. “This is the part where you reciprocate.” He looks dejected as though he knows it’s not possible.

“You are the strangest creature on earth.” And hot as hell, but I leave that part out.

“I have a vision that you can test out your theory with.” He takes a bold step forward and burrows into me with a heated stare.

“I don’t have a theory.” Never said I had a theory, and suddenly I’m feeling caged in like an overgrown bird. Is this the part where I call
Nev
?

“You need a foundation in which to test these thoughts that plague you.” He takes another step forward and runs his open palm along the rim of my left wing. It sends a sizzle of excitation coursing through my veins.

“What’s this constant flow of lightning?” I try to keep my lips from shivering in rhythm to the vibrations.

“Lightning is a good way to put it—passion is another. You felt it when I took you to my home—our home,” he adds.

Marshall focuses intently, bears into me with his entire soul—I can feel him pouring into me. His features meld ever so slightly, and he begins to look like Logan’s twin again.

“Do you prefer me this way? I don’t mind one bit.” He gives a wide vexing grin.

“Stop that,” I say, but it’s too late. I’m already hypnotized. He picks up my hands and takes another step forward.

I have to keep reminding myself this isn’t Logan. He’ll never be Logan no matter how hard he tries.

“
Skyla
,” he imitates Logan’s husky tone with highlighted precision.

I exhale a lungful of air that I didn’t realize I was holding. Logan gives a sad smile, the same melancholy look that Gage gave off for so long—still does. We exchange our sorrowful smiles. Everything in me knows this isn’t Logan, everything in me knows it’s not right to play with the fire that is Marshall. But how will I ever know if the future is immovable, if I don’t test it? How will I ever know if I should abandon all fruitless efforts and sever the chords that lasso Logan and me together like a noose on both ends?

Logan comes in and kisses me, deep, masterful kisses that match my passion and intensity. It’s that electrical impulse that flies through me, that reminds me this is Marshall.
It both
detracts and rockets this experience to its zenith, leaves me lingering far too long and far too willing.

A scene emerges—Gage and me, alone in the butterfly room. He plucks one of the paper butterflies off the wall and blows it at me. It energizes and comes to life with its bright blue paper wings, fragile as bougainvillea petals.

Marshall and me are so immersed in our moment, with his arms dropping ever so slowly below my waist, that I ignore the squeak of the stall door opening, chalk it up to the wind, or Holden’s ghost.

A shrill scream penetrates the air. It saws through the moment with its serrated buzzing.

I look over and see Mia with her hands clamped over her mouth. Her eyes are locked in fear as she staggers backwards and runs away fast.

There
was the kill switch—the sharp knife that could split my indecisiveness to ever act on my lust again. It was always reality that ended those feelings in me for Marshall.

I push into Marshall’s chest with violent force. He’s completely himself again and that’s precisely what Mia saw.

“You are ruining my life!” I thunder in his face.

He pulls the wings off me one at a time with no affect whatsoever.

“You don’t even care that she saw us.” I’m exasperated by his lack of responsiveness.

“She’ll get used to it. In the meantime, threaten her. Find something to lord over her. That’s what sisters do.” He says it like it’s some universal truth.

“You looked like Logan to seduce me.”

“He’s your weakness—don’t blame me for the circumstances.” He blinks over at me. “I’ll play dirty if I have to.” The words slit through the air.

I’m sick of Marshall and his head games. It was one thing when Mia wasn’t dragged into it, but now this has blown up into a huge freaking disaster. Not only is he my
teacher
,
but
I happen to have a boyfriend. What worse example could I possibly be to her?

An explosion of anger rips through me. I grab him by the collar and yank him in close.

“You are fucking with the wrong person.” I grit the words out in pieces.

He steps back and dusts me off with one swift stroke.

His eyes flare up a vivid glowing copper. He seethes as though I had somehow finally crossed the line.

“So are you,” he spits it out with venom—then disappears.

Chapter Forty-T
hree

Damage

I try to calm Mia down as we wait for Mom to pick us up. I have no idea where the hell Marshall went, but I make myself at home in his living room in an effort to try to quell my sister’s hysterics.

Melissa strides into the room. “What happened?” She’s alarmed by Mia’s blotchy red face, her convulsive hiccupping.

“She fell off a horse,” I say it so quickly, I don’t have time to process the lie.

“Did not.” Mia glares over at me. She goes to open her mouth then shuts it abruptly. “I tripped.” She cuts me a hard look.

I mouth a
thank you
as Melissa looks out the front window.

“Your mom is here.” She opens the front door and heads on out. Mia speeds out right behind her, leaving me alone in Marshall’s living room.

The dagger above the fireplace beckons me. I plan on paying a visit soon to the regional leaders with Gage. I know Logan would never go if I asked. He’s too locked up in altruistic illusions just like the rest of them.
 

I reach up with my left hand and pull it down from the wall. If I took this, then both
Gage
and me would be well protected. It’s ironic that I’m cradling it with my Chloe arm. It was Marshall who had
Ezrina
hack off my arm for stealing a butter knife. A harsh reminder of what it could mean if I took this from him too. He did say it was special issue.

I drop it in my backpack and bolt outside. I don’t bother shutting the front door. Maybe he’ll think someone else might have taken it? But deep down I know he’ll trace it’s absence straight back to me.

Of course, there will be hell to pay.

***

That night I waste no time and text both Logan and Gage to come to the butterfly room. As soon as I get home, I research the people on Logan’s list. I print out a detailed map of the addressees in which the cowards choose to hide themselves.

“What did you need the knife for?” Gage asks trying to pluck a blue butterfly off the wall as he says it.

I pull down his hands. I’m more than curious to see if I can change Marshall’s vision, although everything in me says I can’t. Logan hasn’t arrived yet, so it’s just the two of us.

“I took one from Mr. Dudley’s house. I want to see if they’re the same.” I produce the dagger from behind me.

“You took it?” His eyes ignite with horror. “Are you insane?”

I pull the knife Gage brought from out of the sheath.

“Look at this.” A small round symbol of a hand is embossed into the top of the handle. I press it with intention just like Marshall said, and it glows a soft shade of blue.

“What’s going on?” He scoots over towards me, careful not to touch the dagger.

“It’s some otherworldly thing. Marshall said these were special issue.” I place it on the floor, and it dies back down. “It fries a person from the inside, almost instant death, just one quick incision.”

“You really want to do this?”

“I am doing this.” I pull the clipboard towards me again. “And this person?” I point over to the name, D.
Edinger
. “He’s last.” I breathe the words out with suspended anger. “I’ll cut my teeth on the others and bring my game by the time I get to him.”

“Where’s Logan?” I’m not all that surprised he hasn’t bothered to show up yet.

“Don’t know.” Gage examines me carefully as though he were assessing my sanity.

“He’s not coming.” I try to mask the sadness in my voice.

He doesn’t care about me anymore. It’s obvious the faction war means nothing to him.

I pull out the knife I stole from Marshall and place it on my lap. I fold the addresses of the regional leaders and tuck them into my pocket.

I lean forward and give him a succulent kiss.

“Take me to Barcelona, Gage.”

***

The morning sun warms our backs as Gage and I appear near a bus station behind a group of trees. We secure our weapons in the back of our jeans and head out towards an open marketplace. I don’t know how teleportation works or how he can control where we land, but I’m afraid to ask. As long as I don’t have the details, I won’t have the fear of ending up in some random men’s restroom, looming over my head.

“Logan told me, a while back, that if you kill someone in a faction war you’re exempt.” I look up at Gage hopeful. “You won’t get caught, you won’t go to prison.” It’s the last one that terrifies me.

“Yes, the factions have something in place.” He shakes his head. “But the emotional consequences—are you ready for those?”

The brilliant blue waters of the Mediterranean jump up behind him and the color of his eyes spring out at me in concert with the sea. Gage is perfectly beautiful in this light. My heart skips thinking about how completely he loves me—how I already have everything I’m looking for with someone, right here in front of me.

“I’m going to do this for all the families like mine. I wish someone
would have
done this for me. If this
Edinger
person were stopped before he authorized the killing of my dad, then I wouldn’t have to do this. They forced my hand. If I let these Counts off the hook, I let off the person who killed my family as well.” And they did kill my family. Tad will never be able to replace what we had before him.

Gage takes us up a steep cobbled path that leads to an ancient looking dwelling made of stone. A gnarled wood frame creates an ornate entry. Large white billowing sheets hang on a laundry line, barricading us from the view of the bustling street full of patrons at the farmers market across the way.