Alone in my bed that night, I drench myself in tears. It all unfolded just like the vision Marshall had given me.
Logan’s rationale meant nothing. They were empty words on a nonexistent platform. He wouldn’t admit the real reason he was leaving me was because I cheated. Instead, he shouldered the majority of our demise and pinned the rest on the Countenance.
I apologized beyond reason for ever touching Gage, for ever thinking I might have loved him, but Logan was emphatic we part ways—and that once the faction war was over we could see how things go.
A war. I have to fight a war to even hope to have Logan as a part of my life again. I pull the covers up around my blotchy face, hot from rivers of tears, my chest still heaving with ragged sighs and hiccups.
I listen to the sad drizzle of rain patter against the wood-covered window as I nestle deeper in my bed, feel the arctic breeze snake its way in through the cracks, and meditate on what a mess my life’s become.
Unsteady dreams take me captive. Seductive images fed to me in pieces. An entire catalog of events unfold in random order, each one beseeching the next.
I can hear Logan’s voice, the tenor lost in perfect octave—the rumble of his chest as he whispers hot into my ear. I am enslaved by his presence. He is magnified by an aura of irrational calm, an undeniable peace as easy as dying.
I can feel his lips. Hear him tell me that it’s going to be all right, just breathe. He restrains the sweet ache in my chest to kiss him. It’s a temptation beyond understanding.
***
In the morning I tell Mom I can’t go to church, that I’m too tired from working the late shift. Truth is, my wearied body doesn’t compare to the Mack truck Logan drove over my emotions last night. It is heartache in acres, trying to imagine my days without Logan.
I fish out Chloe’s diary from my underwear drawer and land back on the bed in a heap.
August 14th,
Last time I embarrass myself with a boy. Ever. I’ve never felt so insecure, immobilized with grief over the way Gage made me feel when he shut me down. Gage said his mystery girl would sail into town soon. I’ll be sure to pull out the welcome mat, make her feel like she’s my new best friend before I accidently knock her off Devil’s Peak. Oops! People are prone to drinking too much around here and accidents happen.
August 15th,
Perfect night! Carly had a party. Lame as usual. Of course she asked about Brody one zillion times until I finally made something up about him seeing Zoe Topherman. It was priceless to see Carly take off crying upstairs during her own get together. To top it off, Zoe has hair that covers her body like an ape, so of course this really pissed off miss tan and beautiful. It must hurt to think you’ve been replaced by a circus animal, sort of like it hurts to be replaced by the invisible woman. For all I know she might be a figment of his imagination—wishful thinking.
Anyway, Gage was there, stringing me along with one of his “discussions”. I let him fill me in on how Nevermore was doing. I wish I would have cut a little deeper when I plunged that knife into his hand—impaled him two or three times, severed an artery. You should have seen his face drop like a brick when I stopped listening midsentence and went over to talk to Logan. With Michelle and Lex both on vacation, this won’t even be a challenge.
August 16th,
I picked up Logan and we went to the south side today over by Rockaway Point. I told him I forgot my bathing suit and stripped down to nothing right in front of him. I swear he’s just like Gage. He didn’t even try to make a move. He just acted like I was fully clothed and we went out swimming like it was no big deal. There’s obviously something wrong with the both of them.
August 17th,
Ellis is driving me insane with these constant midnight visits, not that I’m turning him away. Besides we go light driving after and do fun things like change test scores at school and mess around with Dr. Oliver’s corpses. He suggested I mess with Gage, but I have something bigger planned. It involves his BFF Logan Oliver. It is a thing of beauty I tell you.
August 21st,
Look at me. I can’t keep you up on things for two days straight. I guess it’s not a secret that I have a hard time being faithful. I finally got Logan to kiss me! Turns out there’s no invisible girl in his future. Well, Logan doesn’t have the curse of ‘knowing’ so we’ll go with the idea that I’m the girl of his dreams. Besides, he’s sweet. I like the way he takes up my hand and kisses it.
His aunt and uncle are buying them both trucks. Can you believe it? They are so spoiled rotten. I’ll be driving around in that beat up old hatchback for the rest of my natural life and they get brand new wheels right out the gate.
August 22nd,
I think Logan is in love with me. Tonight at the bowling alley I thought Gage was going to piss his pants when he saw Logan and me sucking face for like five minutes straight. Of course, he wasn’t the only one having a seizure over the situation, Lexy and Michelle freaked out on me, like I was caught lighting their hair on fire. It’s every girl for herself. Don’t they know that already?
August 23rd,
Shit hit the fan! Had an encounter with a full-blown army of Fems and I thought I was a goner. Thank God my dad came around and helped me get away. He broke his arm in two places and was in surgery getting pins put in this afternoon. Dad says he doesn’t know what they want or what we did to cause this sort of trouble in our lives. Mom thinks we should move, but Dad says they’ll just follow us wherever we go. They wanted to know if I did anything to piss off the Counts. I kept my lips shut tight. Good thing dead men (or should I say dead girls) tell no tales. Too bad their brothers do—or threaten to anyway. Maybe I should slaughter their whole family and put myself out of my misery.
There’s something to think about.
August 24th,
After cheer practice I got in a knock down drag out fight with Lex, trying to get her to tell me how to bind a Fem. I’m afraid my entire family is going to die if she doesn’t spit it out soon.
I bashed her head into my locker so hard it left a dent (my locker not her head). She did get a nasty cut that bled profusely and ruined both our uniforms. Hopefully lockjaw will set in, or she’ll hemorrhage internally in her sleep, because she won’t tell me a thing. She said she’d die before she did that. I might take her to the mat on that one.
August 25th,
I love that Logan is a Celestra. For a long time I thought he was this stuck-up pretty boy, but he’s actually really nice, and kind of shy and quiet. I told him what happened with the Fems and he GAVE me his grandmother’s pendant to protect me. I don’t think anyone has ever been so kind to me before.
I wish I could get over Gage. Carly swooped in now that Brody and her broke up. OK, I might have had something to do with that, but how was I supposed to know I’d push Carly-let’s-have-a-baby-Foster into Gage’s arms? Anyway. I asked him if we could get together and talk sometime. I’m hoping there’s still a chance for us.
August 27th,
Met up with Gage yesterday after practice and just hung out on the senior lawn. We talked for hours. I finally broke down and told him about how I felt, about how scared I was because of what’s been happening with Ms. Richards’ grandmother—how I’ve been seeing her everywhere like a ghost, how she feels so real to me. I think I’m going insane. She actually spoke to me and said it was ‘almost time’. Almost time for what?
I feel like I’m losing my mind. Maybe I should go back to Dr. Booth? Obviously giving the Ceslestra files to Holden was a mistake. Maybe telling them they could taste my blood and see how strong it makes them, or how they could read minds and time travel if only for a moment, wasn’t the most brilliant idea in order to save my freaking ass. I’ll be paying for her death the rest of my natural life. They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, pinned me to a wall and now I’m just fucked.
Oh and have I mentioned I lost Logan’s necklace again? Welcome to my wonderful life.
I wonder what kind of deal
Holden made with Chloe? She said them—I bet his brother knew all about it. What the hell were they doing with Celestra files? Don’t the Counts keep track of us anyway? Unless Holden and Pierce were going off on their own, starting their own demonic junior council, with no rules, and no backwards code of ethics.
I touch the top of my neck, still swollen and bruised. I wonder what kind of an offer they made her? What could possibly make Chloe whore out her blood to them? And who the hell did she kill?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Calling All Angels
“What kind of company meeting?” Tad balks when I tell him and Mom that I’m going out for a few hours and why.
“I don’t know. Logan wants to talk to the staff. It’s like a production meeting or something. He’s buying dinner, so I didn’t ask too many questions.” Actually I don’t know if we’re even having dinner. Besides, I can’t eat knowing Logan doesn’t feel we should be together anymore. The only bright spot in my day is that he’ll be at the faction meeting tonight.
A light knock erupts at the door.
“That’s for me.” I head towards the door with both Mom and Tad hot on my heels.
“Ready?” Gage offers a private smile before saying hello to the two of them.
“So where is this meeting?” Tad cranes his neck looking down the driveway.
Gage presses his lips together. I can tell he’s shocked that I might have said anything about the faction meeting.
“At the bowling alley,” I say, picking up Gage by the hand and heading into the frigid night air before things get too involved. The last thing I want is to drag Gage into my bed of lies.
“Your friend has a nice ride.” Tad ticks his head down towards Logan sitting in the orange beat-up mustang.
“That’s actually Skyla’s ride,” Gage says, as we move down towards the driveway.
“That’s the car they want to give you?” Tad rushes past Gage and trots down the stairs to get a better look. “That’s a 66 mustang!” He slaps the sides of his heavily pleated chinos. “Lizbeth!” He motions for my mother to come down in her bathrobe.
Logan gets out from the driver’s seat and politely says hello.
Tad ignores him. He’s too busy asking Gage faux permission before popping up the hood.
“It’s got a 289!” Tad’s voice echoes through the forest like a boomerang. “Shit!” He smacks his head on the inside of the hood before backing up. “What the hell are you thinking giving her a car like this?”
“I’m going to pay for it,” I offer.
“We’re working something out.” Logan looks back at me and relaxes into a smile.
It crushes me—everything around me stops as our eyes linger. All of the madness of Tad and his bizarre commotion, my mother’s bare breast nearly exposed, the fact Drake has appeared and is pulling at his hair like a cartoon character, none of it fazes me.
Logan gets behind the wheel, while Gage and I banter about who’s going to sit in the back, but I insist.
I take Logan in, as we head out on the road—drink him down like water. His long muscular arms, his chiseled to perfection features, the strong assurance he exudes without having to say a word, and my heart shatters like glass over and over until it’s ground down, fine as sand.
***
Nicholas Haver lives behind the gates, much further down the road than Logan and Gage. We drive through miles cloaked in darkness, with no streetlamps, and no moon to illuminate our path, just the sterile headlights igniting the evergreens, surprising the world around us with their artificial beams.
Logan parks high on the ridge behind an entire row of SUVs, minivans and sports cars. It’s amazing how many people have showed up for this meeting. I crashed one of these meetings this past summer, or tried to, until I was caught sneaking around the periphery with Ellis. Note to self, including Ellis in just about anything will consistently result in deep regret and quite possibly end with me getting stoned.
We get out of the car, and the icy November air slices through my sweater, makes me wish I had the forethought to throw on a jacket. Jackets were something you didn’t need in L.A., and rain was something we didn’t have. I’m still trying to get used to the violent weather here on Paragon. Between the constant shroud of dark clouds and the continual layer of fog that permeates our world, it’s starting to feel like the sun is just a rumor, something that warms the rest of the planet but strategically passes us by.
We make our way to a barnlike structure, lit up like a flame, far behind the main house. The three of us remain unnaturally quiet, dipped in morbid silence until we’re just shy of the entry.
“So they know we’re coming?” I ask twisting my finger around my hair repetitively.
“They’re expecting us.” Logan presses his hand into the small of my back ushering me into the well-lit room.
It’s probably the last thing I should be thinking, that Logan is touching me, the last thing I need to be doing is focusing in on the electrical impulses that race from his fingertips all the way to my scalp, but my mind refuses to consider anything else. Once again he’s the forbidden fruit, not just according to the Countenance, but according to Logan himself.
Nicholas Havar is a heavyset man with a triple chin and pillow-like bags tucked under his eyes. He scoffs when he sees us then gets back to reciting roll call from which the three of us are omitted.
I notice Dr. Oliver and Emma and wave. It’s an empty, cavernous room, with chairs set in a giant circle that creates an equitable environment. The strong scent of fresh brewed coffee is thick in the air and I see pastries laid out on a small round table near the back.
“Let’s get down to the matter at hand.” Mr. Havar leans in, scoops together a loose stack of papers and glosses over them. “In the last four days we’ve had sixteen brothers who’ve lost their lives under suspicious circumstances. It’s not unusual to have this sort of thing happen, as it does from time to time, but the curious nature of their demise, coupled with the fact the deaths were quarantined to one particular faction, brings this matter to the forefront.” He pauses to take a few quick swigs from his water bottle.
“Which faction?” Dr. Oliver asks, adjusting his glasses.
“Celestra,” Nicholas answers.
Shit.
I try to make contact with Logan, but his eyes are glued to the front.
“Eleven in suspect fires,” Mr. Havar continues, “three auto accidents, and two beheaded.”
A series of gasps coil around the room.
I take a deep breath and bow my head.
“It has also come to our attention that someone in this room has access to a Sector,” Mr. Havar pauses to allow for another series of echoing gasps. “And I have also been informed that a Civil War has been ordained.” He bounces his water bottle on the table as if to affirm the statement. “The Countenance has clearly taken a progressive step in the conflict already. The C.R.L. has discussed the matter and we feel the potential loss outweighs the devastation that has already taken place. We move to accede for the time being until we can further assess the strategy of the enemy—at that time, we will consider seeking retribution.”
A hushed silence penetrates the room. Nothing but somber faces and dull eyes liter the assembly.
“What’s the C.R.L.?” I ask Gage. I’m afraid if I ask Logan he won’t respond. Although he’s not officially giving me the cold shoulder, I can definitely feel the arctic breeze.
“Council of Regional Leaders. Basically leaders like him from all over the world, excluding Countenance of course.”
“Of course.”
“Excuse me.” A man in a plaid sweater and purple tie knotted just below his chin stands. “Who has access to this Sector? Isn’t there a chasm in place to keep this sort of thing from happening?”
“Chasms are temporal. The Sector involved has expressed interest in one of our own. The young woman’s family has requested we not place any focus on her.”
About a dozen heads turn in
my direction. My cheeks start to burn from the attention.
Of course it’s me. Logan, Gage, and I are the only ones under thirty in this entire assembly. And suddenly the overwhelming urge to strangle Marshall seems like a good idea.
“Any questions?” Mr. Havar impatiently pans the crowd. “Meeting is adjourned. Godspeed until we meet again.”
A mingling of bodies explodes as the crowd bleeds towards the door.
That’s it?
Dr. Oliver and Emma come over and offer me a hug.
“I hope you don’t mind that we referred to you as family.” Emma rubs my back when she says it.
“No, I don’t mind.” I cast a heavy glance over at Logan. It feels terrible being separated like this from him. This is way worse than being forced to live a million miles apart. It’s an emotional separation, and it’s mincing me from the inside.
I hate the brutal awareness that Logan doesn’t think we should be together right now. Blaming himself was just a rouse to keep from pointing the finger at me and say that I cheated.
Gage pops up beside me and wraps his arm around my waist. It’s beyond uncomfortable knowing that Logan can see—knowing that it’s not an act, that there’s not a Count around for miles.
“So why aren’t they going after whoever did this?” I direct my question at Dr. Oliver.
“It would only incur more deaths.” He shrugs as though it were obvious.
“But they killed sixteen Celestra. We’re on the verge of extinction as it is,” I say.
“Yes,” Nicholas Havar steps in. “But they can eradicate the Celestra in an instant given the proper nudging. They’re posturing, hoping that a full-scale war will break out so they can have the excuse they’ve been waiting for, to indulge in genocide. We can’t give them that option.”
“If this war was fought a long time ago, maybe my father wouldn’t have died. It’s hard to believe the solution is to do nothing.” I try to restrain my anger.