Entropy (The Countenance Trilogy 3) (26 page)

“Yeah, I’m ready.” I yank my elbow free from his grasp. “Is that what you came for? To give me some pointers on how to take down the Spectators? Or maybe a little father-son bonding time is what you were really after.” I grit the words through my teeth.

“Now, Wesley”—he gives it with a dull, expiring laugh
—
“I wish you the best tonight both in and out of those woods. But do yourself a favor, and guard your heart. It’s prone to get broken if you keep pining for someone else’s girl.” Wickedness gleams off him like a sheen. It’s undeniable. He’s an unthinkable kind of evil, and knowing I’m derived from him sends a chill right down to my soul.

“You mean Flanders’ girl.” I sag into myself momentarily stunted by the trauma of the idea.

“I’m afraid so.”

“It’s not happening on my watch.” I stride past him, down the hill toward Austen House. It’s never happening if I have anything to say about it.

I hit the entrance and stride on in without looking back to see if dear, old Dad is gloating over my shoulder. Instead, I head into the dorm as the thick, cloying scent of every perfume known to womankind collides right here in the entry.

“Look at you.” Kresley is quick to wrap herself around me like a serpent. That can only mean Laken is around and ready to witness the event.

“Knock it off.” I peel her limbs away just short of landing her on the floor.

“Hey, you know what’s been bugging me?” She pokes a finger in her cheek and tilts into my body, manipulative as hell. Not that she’s any good at it.

“I’m not interested.” I try to make my way toward the common room, but she holds me back a moment.

“If Laken is your Essential, why the hell has Cooper Flanders been pawing all over her the last half-hour?” She points over by the fireplace, and I see them. Laken has her hair tied back. She’s wearing a simple navy dress and looks stunning. My heart picks up pace, my dick begs me to make her mine tonight in the very worst way. Coop stands next to her with his hand cradling her elbow. They whisper into one another with a strangled intensity. Probably inventing new ways to get rid of me.

“None of your damn business.”

Kresley spins me around before I can take off. She spears me with those overly made up eyes, those clownish lips. “I thought so. It never happened, did it?”

I shake my head. “Nope.” I don’t know why the hell I felt the need to confess to Kres, of all people, but something about verbalizing it feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

“It’s okay.” Her features morph into genuine heartbreak for me as she cups the side of my face. “I promise, Wes, I will always be here for you. Whatever this thing was with Laken, I forgive you.”

A body brushes up against me, and Laken is quick to insert herself between the two of us. “Whatever this
thing
is with Laken?” A dark laugh bubbles from her throat. Coop stands behind her decked out in his rent-a-tux, his thirteen-dollar cologne, and it takes an effort not to slug him for the hell of it. “Look, Kres, whatever’s going on between Wes and me is
our
business. No one’s looking for any help from you—so you can stop volunteering.” She threads her arm through mine.

“That’s right,” I say to Kresley, trying to get her out of my life once and for all. Besides, I need Laken to see I’m aligned with her, or I’ll never win her heart or her trust. “Laken and I can handle this.” I look over to Coop for a second. “This is just another bump in the road. We’ll get through it.” I land a kiss over Laken’s cheek, and my insides soften to butter. I want her in the worst way right now. I always have.

Kres shakes her head in pity. “I’ll still be here for you when she dumps you, Wes. The tragedy is, she already has, and you just haven’t accepted it yet.”

I speed us out the door and welcome the cold slap of wind against my face.

We head toward Dickenson Hall, Laken in the middle with Coop and I ensconcing her like bookends. I wonder how long this will stretch out before she clears her head and makes a decision. I wonder if I’d let it stretch out forever
—
hell, I know I would.

The last thing I’ll do is admit that Kres is right.

She might be.

A part of me knows she is.

Dickenson Hall is lit up like a Christmas tree with a million twinkle lights sprayed out.

“It’s beautiful,” Laken whispers. It’s the first thing she’s said—that
any
of us have said since I’ve arrived.

“You’re the only beautiful thing I see.” I twist into her, wrapping my arm around her waist, not really caring about any unspoken rules that might be in play tonight. “You look gorgeous.”

Laken flexes her hips into mine, and I go for it. I wrap both arms around her and pull her in. I’m feeling it, and I hope she is, too. Laken and I have always had an undeniable chemistry.

“I think”—she nods toward the tables sitting around the facility with their flickering candles, their tall vases filled with blood red roses
—
“we should go have dinner.”

Laken leads us over to the table with Fletch and Carter. Jen and Blaine join us and fill out the rest of the chairs.

“Ladies.” Blaine nods into the table as he takes a seat. “Everyone here looks dressed to impress. Nice work.”

The wait staff starts shuffling around, and, before we know it, a crisp, green salad lands in front of each of us.

“So, Laken”—Fletch hoses down his lettuce with ranch dressing like he were putting out a fire—“I see you finally found something worth collecting
—
men.” He knocks his elbow into Carter, and she rolls her eyes.

“Be quiet, Fletcher.” Jen is quick with the reprimand. “Laken is a beautiful young lady who’s simply exercising her options.”

Laken’s mouth falls open. I bet she’s sorry she’s not within strangling distance.

I hate the thought of being referred to as an option, but, at least, I’m still on the table—for now.

“That’s right.” Blaine tweaks his brows into his food, and I can feel it coming. “So when Wes shows up with a spare girl to prom, Laken will be the first to understand.”

“Shut up, Blaine.” I close my eyes a moment before turning to Laken. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Blaine scoffs, lifting his water goblet as if he’s ready to commence a toast. “Turnabout’s fair play. Isn’t that right, Laken?”

“
Enough
.” Jen tries to defuse the situation.

“Enough is right.” I growl over at my brother. I’m about ready to turn this entire damn table over. “Laken and I are going through some pretty heavy stuff right now, and I’d appreciate it if you’d give us a little breathing room. I’m sure Coop doesn’t want to listen to your bullshit either, so cap it.”

Laken reaches under the table and clasps onto my fingers.
Thank you
.

She keeps her hand over mine for a good long while. I’m starting to think the road to Laken’s heart was paved by Cooper’s boots, hell, I’ll lick them if I have to.

“So, Coop…” I lean over and begin a conversation about Ephemeral football that spans an hour.

Game on.

When the tables clear off and the lights go down, I ask Laken if she wants to dance. It’s an upbeat song, and I would rather drown in vomit than shake my body to it, but if this is what it’s going to take to keep Laken away from Coop, I’m in.

“Really?” She takes my hand as I pull her to her feet.

“Yes, really.”

Fletch maintains the conversation so good old Coop won’t feel too lonely. I slipped him a Benjamin earlier to make sure Flanders never had a dull moment
—
told him there was another one in it for him if he pulled it off with flying colors. Sorry, Carter, your boyfriend is all about the green tonight.

“I’m really proud of you, Wes.” Laken licks her lips while looking right at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that was an invitation.

“Why’s that?” I pull her in by the small of her back and drop a kiss onto her forehead.

“Because you haven’t threatened to lop off his balls once tonight.”

“Yeah, well”—I glance over her shoulder at Coop and Fletch still head to head with their sports-centered conversation—“there’s still time.”

“Very funny.”

We hit the dance floor, and the first thing to move is the dinner in my stomach. Shit. What the hell was I thinking? The only moves I’m known for are the ones that take place in a swimming pool. But this isn’t water polo—it’s suicide by way of the white boy boogie I’m going to own in a few moments. I’d give anything for a slow song right about now. God knows I’m in the mood to hold Laken tight for a good, long stretch of time.

The music shifts, and the girls rocking out on the dance floor give an audible groan before they scramble to find prospective dance partners.

“Holy crap,” I whisper. “Would you look at that?” A smile inches its way up my cheek. “May I?” I bring her hand to my lips.

“By all means.”

Laken molds her body over mine, and every cell I own exhales with relief.

Maybe she does want this.

“I do,” she whispers. “More than anything.” A wave of pain washes over her features.

I slipped one through. I’ll need to be extra careful with what I let her hear tonight. God forbid I replay any of the conversations I’ve had with Edinger. Things would go to shit pretty quickly after that.

You can still hear me?
I bump my nose to hers and pull back.

I hope you don’t mind.
She gives the hint of a nod.
It makes me feel closer to you this way.

There’s nothing about you that I mind, Laken. But, I beg of you, the next time you need an infusion, don’t go to Coop.
I close my eyes to keep from visualizing the horror of Laken’s mouth latched onto his neck.
Come with me to Tenebrous
.

You don’t need to worry. I’ve decided not to get another infusion
. Her cheeks darken as if she were embarrassed that she ever did.
I haven’t had one since before Halloween, so I suppose this will cut out soon.

I can’t say I’m not relieved.
I completely understand.
The tunnels will always be there if she changes her mind in the future, but those will be the last words I’ll say to her tonight. I offer a shy smile, and her features soften.
Mind if I show you a neat trick?

The song starts to die down, and I glare over at the DJ, mentally imploring him to play another slow, warbling tune that Laken and I can continue to grind our hips to, and miraculously he does.

Trick?
She pulls back and takes me in with that beautiful face. I’m greedy for her in the worst way, and her extra sharp beauty only seems to magnify this insatiable ache.

Open your mind.
I picture the two of us back in Kansas outside the old barn in a pile of autumn-colored leaves—nothing but an explosion of red, the air filled with all of my wanting for her.

“Wes!” She pulls back and swallows down a laugh. “How did you do that?”

“Hang on tight because I’m about to do a hell of a lot more.”