Burn (24 page)

Gage circles me with his eyes like I’ve got the plague.

“Looks like
Nev
just sent him packing,” he says. “But how are we going to get rid of him permanently?”

“No clue. With my luck I’ll need an exorcism.” I try to stop the blood from streaming free from my hand. I press my palm into my jeans and watch the red flower of my existence expand by inches every second.

“Nev.” His tone is sharp as he calls the bird.

I pick up the blade and watch my blood rise up on the sides. I swipe my finger down over it and realize I just fulfilled Marshall’s prophecy. I look up at Gage as a thought runs through my mind. What if I knew what was coming and refused to comply? Could I change things?

Gage takes the knife and punctures the bird at the base of his wing. Gently he rubs my wound over Nevermore.

“You’re bonded now.”

“So that’s it? Last one bleeding gets the prize?” I ask as the bird hops onto my shoulder.

“Something
like
that. It understands what you need from it and does what it can to help you, like with
Kragger’s
ghost. It’s more of a messenger than a guardian.” Gage takes off his shirt and wraps it around my hand, tight.

“Sort of a prehistoric 911.”

“He can’t do everything, but he’s trained pretty well.” He holds out his arm and Nevermore hops over to him. “Say
Skyla
.”

“Say
Skyla
.” It repeats crackled and broken.

“That’s amazing!” For a moment I forget about my throbbing bloodied hand.

“I love you,
Skyla
.” Gage says sternly to the bird.

“I love you,
Skyla
.” Nevermore looks right at me when he says it then bolts up towards the upper branches of an evergreen.

“That’s sweet,” I say. His sincerity and loyalty take my breath away. “Thank you.”

 
“Let’s get my dad to look at that.” Gage places the knife back into its sheath.

“So is
Nev
enchanted or something? What’s with the whole blood brother thing?”

“It’s a bound spirit. It’s trapped. Your blood controls its actions. Nothing can happen to that bird while you’re still alive.”

“What kind of spirit?”

“It could be anything but human. It’s a punishment.”

“So basically its punishment is hanging around with me? Figures.” I lean into Gage. Everything about me feels like a punishment lately.

***

The morgue is teeming with people. One of the viewing rooms has a crowd nine deep, and it doesn’t register until I see
Carly
Foster twirling her finger around her long blonde hair that everyone here is a teenager.

“Who died?” I whisper to
Gage
.

“Don’t know.” He floats me back towards the kitchen in a hurry.

“
Skyla
.” Dr. Oliver sounds disappointed as he adjust his glasses. He picks up my hand and removes the blood-soaked shirt. “You’re bleeding again. What happened? A Fem?”

“Holden
Kragger
happened.” Gage says filling him in on the bizarre string of events.

“You need stitches, but I think I’m going to glue you. It’s a fixative I use to keep peoples eyes shut, but it’ll work just the same. Are you taking vitamins? If not, do. Load up on iron.” He cleans the wound before pumping a thin line of fixative on the palm of my hand and pressing the flesh together. “East High is here on a field trip.”

“We won’t keep you,” Gage says.

“I could use your help if you like.”

“Doing what?” Gage helps steady my hand while he glues the other side.
 

“I need one of you to be a corpse—just lie in the bathtub, and pretend you’re dead. It packs more punch if it’s someone
their
own age, and I’m fresh out of youths,” he says serenely.

“I’ll do it,” I offer.

***

Gage stands guard nearby in the event someone decides to pierce a scalpel through my flesh, oh wait—that already happened today.

I keep my eyes shut and take in slow even breaths. I can feel them amassing around me—feel the warmth from their bodies, hear their soft whispers.

I wonder if it really hits home to see someone your own age in the bathtub of death, then I remember the first time I saw Chloe lying here, then seeing Holden in
Ezrina’s
layer. Death happens. It just does. It reminds us of how ephemeral these coats of flesh really are, especially when there’s someone your own age involved.

“That’s
Skyla
Messenger!” I recognize
Carly’s
two-year old whine. “She’s dead? No freaking way.”

“Look at all that blood. Was she like, shot in the leg?” Someone asks.

Laughter begs to bubble out of me, but I manage to resist the urge.

“I never really liked her,”
Carly
says it as a fact.

Before I can pin her with my anger, a shadow falls over me—a dark presence that instinctually makes me want to shiver with fear.

“Too bad.” A male voice whispers from just above my head. “I was hoping to kill her myself.”
 

Chapter Thirty-Thre
e

I’ll Stumble for You

Gage comes into the house and diverts my mother while I run upstairs to change. After, I find him in the family room with Mia and Melissa petting their new dog.

“Does he have a name yet?” I pull my fingerless gloves up towards my wrist. What with the scarf and all, you’d think a blizzard was coming.
 

“It’s between Sprinkles and Cupcake.” Melissa picks him up and strokes his back carefully. Her hair is pulled back in a headband, and for the first time, I notice the prominent widows peak on her forehead just like Drake’s.

“I suggested Killer,” Gage says playfully.

“I like Killer.” I bite down on my bottom lip and tickle him under the ribcage with my uninjured hand.

“Oh, come on.” My mother breezes into the room. “Girls, don’t listen to them.” She sets a laundry basket full of clothes on the coffee table. “I hear homecoming is on Friday.
You two going?”

“Yes.” Gage rubs my back when he says it.

“Great,” Mom says. “If you want I can take you shopping,
Skyla
. I’ve got at least an hour before dinner.” She beams as though she’s been waiting for this moment all her life.

“Actually, I’m late for work.” That, and the fact she’ll want to see me in it without my scarf and gloves on. I know her. She’ll strip me down herself if she has to.

“Well, I’m going out with the girls to drop the dog off at the vet. I might hit the mall. If I see anything, I’ll pick it up. We can always take it back.”

“Good idea.” Right. Can’t wait to see what pink frosted confection makes its way into my closet. “Make sure you keep the receipt.” For sure we’ll be taking it back.

Tad walks in and glowers over at Gage before heading into the kitchen. “You two have a good day?”

A sickening feeling comes over me.

“You don’t need to worry about a dress.” Tad pulls a soda out of the fridge and migrates back over. “I just got a message from the school.
Skyla
wasn’t there today. Guess where else you’re not going?” His lips stretch across his face before retracting.

***
 

I tried to talk my way out of the fact I was very, very late to school to Mom and Tad. I even showed them the cut on my hand and told them I fell on a metal rod sticking out in the student parking lot. I told them I needed to go to the hospital to get it fixed. Who knew Tad would demand to see medical records? So there’s that.

Gage drops me off at the bowling alley almost an hour late.

I’m glad I have the chance to show Logan how dependable I can be. He’s probably looking forward to firing me. Getting me out of his life once and for all in every way possible.

“You’re fired,” Logan says looking over at Gage.

“She’s the one who’s late,” Gage says mockingly.

“Why the gloves?” Logan is immediately suspicious.

I tell him about our time in the forest while he inspects the damage.

“Are you feeling better?” There’s a marked look of concern written all over him.

“I’m tired.” Even the words come out weak.

Gage takes off, leaving Logan and me enveloped in an awkward silence.

“So, I called someone to cover your shift.” He nods in towards the kitchen where I see two older women scrubbing down the stainless steel appliances. “And I called someone to cover mine.” He glides over to me with a gentle smile and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”

***

Logan leads us out the backdoor. It’s heavily wooded out here, the air is dense with fog, and it feels like we’ve stepped into some alternate world that belongs exclusively to us.

He flexes a smile in my direction as we head down a dirt path. There’s something solemn about him, something quietly accepting, but not too thrilled about the current status of our relationship.

“How are things going?” He asks cloaked in an otherworldly light. It feels as though I’m drifting with Logan’s ghost, like he died, and all I have left are memories—makes me miss him even more.

“Lousy. And you?”

“Not good.” He dips his gaze to the ground. He pours out all his tenderness in one forlorn smile. “I talked to
Gage
—he told me that you love him. I know you wouldn’t tell him that unless you meant it.”

A burst of heat ripples through my body. If I
wasn’t
so achingly tired I’d run all the way home.

He stops and sighs, touches me with his eyes.

“I didn’t bring you here to put you on the spot.” He takes up both my hands carefully. “Actually I brought you here because I want to teach you to defend yourself.”

“Against
Fems
?”

“Against Gage.” He pulls his cheek to the side sarcastically. “And
Fems
.”

Logan spends the next hour teaching me how to get out of headlocks, showing me how to knock someone to the ground by swiping out their feet, kicking them in their balls. It’s like cage fighting with Logan, a guy I’d rather wrestle with horizontally in a much more passionate manner.

“Do
Fems
have balls?” Words I never thought would come out of my mouth.