Hattie settles her black eyes over the two of them and gives a silent nod.
“All of humanity,” she whispers.
Cooper
Before I met Laken, I don’t ever remember being so punctual to class. She’s reverted me from an impressive tardy streak to the owner of a nearly perfect attendance record. Hell, I’d do both my homework and hers—write every report for her for the rest of her scholastic career if she wanted me to. I’d rewrite the history of the world in a monolithic manifesto if it pleased her.
The bell drills through the hum of voices and still no Laken. Edinger strides into the room, and for a moment my stomach seizes at the thought of Laken being a no-show, but she breezes in on his heels with Hattie, her newfound appendage, in tow.
Hattie takes her seat safely tucked across the room, which affords Laken and me a tiny window to communicate. Ever since the sleepovers ended, it’s been touch and go. Laken’s worried to say too much through texts or even over the phone, so this is it.
Laken wraps her ankle over mine. I’ve resorted to wearing socks that barely crest the top of my sneakers allowing for some skin on skin.
I lie my backpack down, and she does the same, creating a barrier for our intimate display.
Anything new? I ask, drinking down her warm skin against mine. Laken feels like heaven. I’d pay in limbs to have her lay over me with that body.
Hattie is psyched about tonight. She rubs her leg over mine in one long stroke that makes me sit up and take a deep breath. And exactly what limbs are you willing to give up? She teases.
I turn my head just slightly. Every single one.
She gives a little laugh. I would hate to see you sacrifice on such a permanent level. How about you save that rock hard body, and we see what happens after we get our families back. It comes from her soft—almost embarrassed she even went there.
The only thing I want after we get our families back is to see you happy—however that may be. I swallow hard, trying to put up a mental barrier long enough to wonder if what I just said was the truth. What about you? I ask, getting the conversation back on track. Are you psyched about tonight? Tonight is the night of Wesley’s big surprise. Laken seems to think they’re going all the way—as in the tunnels.
Yes, I’m excited. I’m thrilled to think I might see my sister and my mom—maybe yours, too. Anything’s possible, right?
I don’t doubt it. A horrible feeling comes over me at the thought of Wes taking her down to that den of horror. I’d do anything to go with you—to protect you from it all.
I know you would, Coop. She rides her bare foot up my pant leg, and I electrify from her touch. Don’t worry. I can handle whatever’s down there. I kicked Asterion’s ass remember? And we’re going to kick the Counts’ asses, too. We’re a team Coop—you and me.
Makes me wonder where Wes fits in all this.
“Isn’t that right, Mr. Flanders?” Edinger’s voice comes through in perfect clarity, and I expand my chest as if I’ve been paying attention the entire time.
“Yeah, that’s right,” I say, trying to save face.
A round of titters circles the room.
Edinger gives a mock bow. “So you agree that the government would be better off if it were run by one drunken farmer rather than a band of power hungry pigs.”
Shit.
“Right, I mean no. I don’t know which one would work best. I guess it would be like choosing the lesser of two evils.”
Laken warms my ankle once again. What are you wearing tonight?
What would you like me to wear? If she says “nothing,” I might be tempted to comply.
I heard that, and you know it.
“The lesser of two evils?” Edinger nods into my conclusion. “Indeed. Sometimes, Mr. Flanders, there is no other way.”
I’m going to be a cheerleader. She goes on. Original, right? Maybe you should be a football player, and we could have secret themed costumes like Marc Antony and Cleopatra.
I like the idea of having a secret with Laken—something private just between the two of us. Sort of like my bed was for a while.
By the way, my mattress misses you, I say. And, yeah, I’ll be your football player.
Wes can be the ball. I’ll be sure to throw him into the bushes and lose him. Maybe Asterion can wake up and find him.
Cool it, Flanders. Wes happens to be the only portal we have to help our families. Besides, the longer we screw around with getting me inside those tunnels, the longer I’ll be away from your mattress. She rakes her leg over mine like a firebrand before disconnecting.
The idea of Laken wanting to be on my mattress sets my entire body blazing with heat.
Edinger drones on for the next hour regarding power and the common man, how dangerous it is when it falls in the wrong hands—but I keep reverting back to my mattress, and Laken lying over it with nothing but a smile. Laken already has all the power she needs over me, and I can’t wait until she uses—abuses it.
The bell rings, and we rise trying to shake off the mind-numbing boredom we were just subjected to. Laken stretches her limbs as if she had hibernated for years.
“You coming to the party tonight?” She bites her lip, still blushing from the memory of my bed—or at least I hope.
“I don’t know. It’s at Henderson, right? About ten?”
“Yes.” Laken presses her lips together until they’re paper white. “Please come. I’m terrified of wherever the hell he’s taking me, and I’ll feel better just knowing I can see you before and after.”
“I’m taking Marky trick-or-treating.” I strum my fingers along the desk. Marky begged me to ask her to come with us. Marky said she’d die if Laken didn’t help her get ready tonight, but I can’t stand the thought of sucking Laken into my family if she doesn’t want to be there.
“And you think you’re doing this without me?” Her mouth opens, and her pink tongue glistens in the light. It makes me want to cover her lips with mine and dive into that precious window.
“Marky was hoping you’d say that.” My entire body sags with relief.
“And what about you?” She takes a step in until our shoulders touch. Her lids hang low and seductive. Laken has the hottest damn bedroom eyes I have ever seen. “Were you hoping I’d say that? Do you want me there, Coop?”
Her breath rakes against my chin, hot and searing like a nuclear blast.
“I want you with me every second of the day, Laken. And then that will never be enough.”
A loud bang emits from the front as Edinger slaps a stack of papers over his desk.
“Pardon me,” he growls with a manufactured grin. “May I speak with you alone a moment, Mr. Flanders?”
Laken makes a face before turning to me. “I’ll be at your truck right after practice.” She takes off and leaves the two of us in the room alone.
“What’s up?” I make my way over to the demonic Fem donning his human costume.
He steps forward with his malevolent grin, his larger than life darkness—an evil you can feel, straight to the bone.
“My dear, Mr. Flanders.” His features sharpen. His brows dip into a dramatic V. “I have a serious proposition for you.”
Shit. If he asks me to indulge in janitorial services in exchange for class credit, I’ll vomit on his shoes. I’m sick of being treated like an underling just because it’s a known fact I’m broke and live off campus. Although, if there were a cash exchange, and the price were right, I might accept. I want to buy Laken something nice for Christmas, and the way finances drip through my fingers, I’d better start saving my pennies.
His features blur, they morph into another face entirely, my football coach, then Mr. Stevens who runs the gym, Ms. Paxton.
Fuck. I jump back as his size nearly doubles. Edinger swells into the all-familiar bronze statue of Asterion and bellows out a roar before his flesh and body restore to their original size. Then, to my ultimate disappointment, his face magically morphs back into the most hideous creature
of all—himself.
My heart thumps through my ears as I try to get a grip.
“You’re a Fem—big fucking whoop.” I try not to let on that I’m impressed as hell by what just happened.
“I figured you knew.” He gives a quick wink. “I showed you these things for a reason.”
“You need help deciding which entity to be tonight?” If only. I’m pretty sure his sinister intent is going to haunt me long after Halloween.
“No, Mr. Flanders.” He takes a slow step in my direction. “It’s my help I’m offering to you—for a price, of course.”
“Of course.”
“My yoke is easy, my burden is light.” He gleams as if he were about to offer me the world. “I need you to be a permanent obstruction between Wesley and Laken.”
A solid minute beats by, and I forget to breathe.
“Excuse me?” How the hell does this benefit him?
“If you succeed in maneuvering Laken from Wesley”—he connects the tips of his fingers as he reveals the underpinnings of his scheme—“you win a supervising spirit for life.” His smile widens, and I think I know who the supervising spirit is. “If Laken chooses Wesley, then you’ll spend the rest of your days in the tunnels.”
“No thanks.” I start to walk away. I’m sure I’ll analyze this conversation to the hilt until the day I die.
“You’ll change your mind,” he says as I stride right out the door. “And I’ll be right here, waiting. Oh, and Mr. Flanders?”
I stop midflight but refuse him the honor of turning around.
“You’d be remise to mention this to another living soul.”
That part, I already knew.
Dark clouds roll in overhead like mildew-ridden barrels.
“It’ll be a miracle if doesn’t rain,” I say as Laken carefully paints whiskers on Marky’s pale face. She’s already dusted her with powder and glitter. Marky drips from head to foot with enough sparkles to make a supernova jealous, but she’s not going as a terrestrial sphere—tonight she’s a common housecat.
“Don’t you curse us, Flanders,” Laken says, drawing in the last line across my sister’s cheek. She’s got her cheer uniform on, her hair up in a high ponytail with a bright red bow. She’s so fucking hot, I feel the need to grab the fire hydrant from the kitchen in the event she spontaneously combusts.
It’s nice having Laken in the house. It’s more than just the estrogen level rising that makes it feel like a genuine home, it’s Laken herself. When she leaves, the entire house feels hollow. She has the power to shift the family dynamics without even trying.
“Yeah, Flanders.” Marky rolls her eyes. She’ll take Laken’s side over mine, ten times out of ten, and I secretly love it. “I’ve got six blocks to cover.” She holds out her hands. “How do I look?” she asks, spinning in her black spandex suit and striped pin on tail.
“Puuurfect.” Laken lets out a bubbling laugh. “But you need these.” She plucks a headband, with a pair of ears, off the counter and attaches it to Marky’s head. “There,” she says carefully letting go. “I think we’re ready!”
Laken bends over to pick up her pom poms off the floor, and I catch a glimpse of the kick pants under her skirt.
“You’re such a perv!” Marky smacks me in the stomach before picking up my phone.
“What?” I tease as Laken shoots me a playful look. “I was making sure you didn’t fall.”
“Oh,” she balks, shoving a pom pom in my face. “Supervising me from behind?”
“Exactly,” I say, circling an arm around her waist like it were the most natural thing in the world, and I wish it were.
“Smile!” Marky holds up my phone and takes a picture. “Oh, come on. You look like you’re afraid of each other. Pretend like you’re madly in love—kiss her or something you goof—nothing gross, or I’ll puke.”
Laken hikes her leg in the air and puckers up, so I give her a quick peck on the lips. I’ll be the last fool on earth to turn down a kiss from Laken Stewart.
“Thanks guys.” Marky’s fingers go into speed dial mode and jangle my nerves.
“What are you doing?” I snatch the phone back in the event she decides to get creative.
“Emailed it to myself.” She snatches her pillowcase off the table and makes a run for the door.
“Let’s see it.” Laken gets in close as she inspects my phone. Her perfume twirls through the air like an acrobat, and it takes everything in me not to replicate that kiss with a real one—with a deeper, more meaningful exchange.
“Here.” The image pops back on the screen, and I hold it between us.
“Gosh”—she over exaggerates—“we’re sure cute together.” She winks as she tugs me toward the door.
I think so too, only I’m dead serious.
A low rumble of thunder greets us as we start down the sidewalk. Marky runs next door to collect her buddy from school, and they scoot on ahead, trotting from house to house while Laken and I lag behind.
“You look really scary by the way,” Laken says as her hand rubs up against mine, and we interlace fingers. I’m in my football jersey and Levis. That’s about as much effort as I’m willing to put into the occasion.
“Boo.” It comes out dull. Mostly because my mind keeps drifting to what might happen later tonight.
“Hey, Coop?”
“What’s that?”
A crowd of expertly costumed children stream past us on either side.
“You don’t think this is some kind of trap Wes is pulling me into, and I’ll be an altar sacrifice by midnight, do you?”
A dull laugh rattles through me. “Nope. Knowing Wes this is just another way to bring the two of you closer—emotionally and physically.”
“You’re probably right.”
An entire chorus of playful screams expel in the distance, and the two of us pause as Marky runs toward a haunted maze set up at the end of the street.
“I wish there were some way you could come with me.” She blows it out while looking down at her tennis shoes.
Laken comes in close and lays her head over my chest. I can feel her heart rioting through her sweater—fear emanates from her like a toxin. She looks up at me with those watery steel eyes, her lips drawn in a brilliant shade of red.
“How do you think Wes is getting in there?” She brings her hand to her neck as the cloud of fear intensifies around her. “It seems so protected. You don’t think just any Count can wander in, do you?”
“I’m betting he’s got a supervising spirit on payroll.” Everything in me freezes at the thought.
“You okay?” Laken gives me a playful jostle.
“Yeah.” I come to, stupefied by what I just realized. “You know, we’re going to be late to Henderson if Marky doesn’t speed things up.” I try to block all thoughts of Edinger out of my mind.
I call out to Marky and lead us on the world’s most manic trick-or-treating session.
Laken is going to the Celestra tunnels tonight.
And so am I.
Wesley
The common room in Henderson Hall pulsates with strobe lights set to the rhythm of bongo drums, shredding.
I turn up the lights just enough so people don’t injure themselves when they try to hurdle all the decorative crap Jen and Blaine trashed the place with.
He’s standing alone, nursing a red plastic cup filled with rocket fuel, so I go on over.
“I can’t get two feet without a cobweb smacking me in the face.” I shoulder up to my brother and observe the costumes on parade that filter through the place.
“You’re welcome.” He deadpans. “What are you supposed to be?”
“I’m you.” I glance down at the matching jeans and flannels we’re both sporting.
“You’re smarter than you look.” He knocks back his drink. “Kresley’s been asking about you. Rumor has it she’s looking to bag a Paxton tonight.”
“Have at her.”
“Nope. If I’m lucky, I’ll be doing someone
else entirely.” He nods across the room at Jen who’s dressed like an overgrown fairy. She’s one big ball of pink—looks like a birthday cake exploded.
“Good luck with that. You see Laken around?” I’ve already scoured the place twice. Carter said she had to run a quick errand, and judging by the lack of Flanders in the vicinity, I think I know who that errand entails.
“Nope. You two fight or something?”
“Or something.” I let out a breath. “She’ll show. I’m taking her somewhere special later. It’s going to bring us closer than ever.”
“Dude.” Blaine socks me in the arm. “That’s what I’m talking about. Don’t be a doofus like your brother. Make sure you let her know she’s special, or she’ll find someone else to make her feel that way. And don’t go messing with Kresley either. Turns out girls aren’t so hot on cheats. Jen’s words, not mine.”
“Sounds good bro.” I slap him on the back as he heads in Jen’s direction.
Fletch nods and pops up beside me. Entrails hang out of his jeans, and his shirt has the imprint of a tire slashed across it.
“Looking good, man,” I say as he staggers a moment.
“Yeah, Carter wanted me to dress up like some kook, but I opted for something cool. Themed costumes are just one step away from the altar, if you know what I mean.”
“Nice.” I give a little laugh. Fletch is a kook either way. And for a moment I try to remember if Laken mentioned anything about themed costumes.
“You’re never going to believe what just happened.” The thick scent of alcohol washes over me as he sloshes out the words.
“Shit. You’re tanked, and it’s not even eight-thirty.” I step back, trying to catch a decent breath.
“Who the hell cares?” He slaps my stomach with a show of inebriated enthusiasm. “I was walking down the hall, and freaking Grayson put out an invitation.”
“To what? Sleep it off?”
“Dude.” His pale eyes bulge the exact same hue as Laken’s and I miss her. “She pointed to the bathroom and said she had a craving—told me to meet her in five minutes.”