Ingram smiles with those blue lips, his skin an unfortunate shade of parchment. “Just a few minutes ago. He went that way.” He nods down the hall, and I take Skyla by the hand, gliding us past the empty rooms, the lonelystairwell.
“Gage?” I call out, glancing down the hall that leads from the entry, and my voice comes back to me as an echo. The foyer is empty, and we head into the grand room that sits idle—a stark contrast from the festivities taking place here just under an hourago.
“Gage?” Skyla calls out as we scan thevicinity.
A slick puddle reflects purple under the harsh blue lights—and I head in that direction. A lake blooms in the southern part of the grand ballroom, and my natural curiosity quickly gives way to fear. A pair of shoes sits straight up as if there were a—body.
“Oh God,” I pant as I speedover.
A suit, a body, a pool of red, a pool of blood. I drop to my knees, slipping in the cold stickymess.
A body. A body. A body and no fuckinghead.
“No!” I bark it out like a reprimand, like a battle cry, like the horrible realization itis.
“Gage?” Skyla’s voice shrills to the ceiling of this vast chamber. Even the chandeliers tremble with her howl. Skyla slips in the crimson liquid as she slides to the place where his head once stood. “Gage!” she pants, falling on all fours, the blood splattering her gown, her pale skin, blotching up her bone-white face like a massacre. “No, no, no!” Her hands pat the floor, soft at first then hard and violent, splashing the blood of her husband three feet into the air. “Stop the bleeding,” she whispers under her breath like a chant as her hands try to cover the gaping wound that is his neck. But the blood pours out like a river, far too much to ever be possible. Her hands flail in the liquid until it’s dripping from her head, her face completely covered, the whites of her eyes alone areglowing.
“Skyla!” I slide my way over in the crimson liquid, my body wet and sticky with the blood of mybrother.
Bodies fill the room, screams from other people. Emma and Barron kneeling in the muck and the mire—the marrow of their only son’sbody.
Skyla bucks and slams her arms down over the pool of blood that spurts up around us like a fountain. Her hands slam against the floor over and over, launching a sea of red, wave after burgundywave.
“No!” she shouts to the heavens, but it doesn’t change a thing. Her limbs still splashing, her screams vibrating this entire damn house. I lunge to stop the flailing, and we slip and roll over the viscous evidence of Gage Oliver’s demise. We are bathed in his blood. Drinking it down like holy water. Dousing our hair, our eyes, our clothes, and every last square inch of our flesh in the blood of the one we love. Gage, who I love with something deeper than a brother. He is the other part of me, the better part, the one I gifted my wife to. I would have died in his place a thousand times. His family needs him. Hell, I need him, too. It’s not his time. It couldn’tbe.
Skyla wails and thrashes, inconsolable. She is trying to make the blood disappear, pounding her fists over his chest, trying to kill Gage all over again, her teeth stained pink, her mouth dripping with all of him poured out overher.
Love.
The one we love isgone.
And all we see isred.
Wesley
The Transfer is cold,comfortably dismal, and on this blessed night, understandably empty of its usual cheerfuloccupants.
I let out a heavy sigh as I lead Coop to the entry of my infernalhome.
“Let’s take a minute.” I glance at the window where a peach glow emits. “That’s Tobie’s room.” I nod in that direction. “I gave Kresley the bed next to hers. Far more than I wanted Kres to bond with her, I wanted Tobie to know a female presence. Kres has been good to her, though, and I appreciatethat.”
Coop blows out a tired breath as she shakes his head at the window. “You always did like Kres. When Laken showed up at Ephemeral, she begged you to choose her, but you stayed with Kresley. That says something, Wes. You care about her more than yourealize.”
My heart shreds as I remember our time back at that haunted academy where Demetri, my own father, roamed the grounds. “I was confused. You know that. I wanted Laken, and I didn’t understandwhy.”
“I know.” He sinks his forehead into his hand, already tired of my speech. “Does Kres know why you had her playing bodydouble?”
It takes a full minute before I can bring myself to answer. “No, I let her enjoy the ride. I had a feeling it would be for a season. In no way did I imagine I’d need her services sosoon.”
“Wes.” Coop takes a staggering step back. “Kresley Fisher is about to be handed over to the enemy. They will gut her alive and not think twice.” He shakes his head as if it were suddenly too real. “If she’s not volunteering to take Laken’s place in that facility, I can’t do this with a good conscience and a clean heart. I want no part in this. There is another way, and I’ll findit.”
A dull laugh thumps through me. “This is the only way. Trust me, I know. Laken will have to lay low—maybe wear her hair different for a time. She said she didn’t give them hername.”
“That’s true. But Chloe could have given them that, plus her driver’s license number. She’s not playing fair. She certainly doesn’t give a shit about her.” He steps in quick, his anger already percolating at eye level. “And you want to know why she did this? To get back at you. Because Chloe, like everybody, knows that Laken is the only thing you care about. My God, I hope you love Tobie half as much.” He grunts in a fury. “And because of your unrelenting obsession with my wife, Laken will always be a mark for your enemies. They will always know the best way to hurt you is through that black heart of yours, which you buried in Laken all those years ago.” His chest bucks with a quiet laugh. “And, of course, if you do love Tobie as much as you want the world to believe, she too will be a target for your enemies. You are a dangerous person, Wes.” He leans in and growls out the words, “As long as you are pushing Demetri’s agenda, you will remain a toxic being that nobody in their right mind should ever be close to.” His eyes close a moment. “The irony here is that the only woman who has ever loved you with as much zealousness that you pour out on Laken is Kresley. She moved to Paragon for you. She changed her face for you. She’s holding your daughter while you cavort with the living on the surface, and all the while you’re gearing up to bloody the waters with her, feed those hungry sharks you’ve lured to the island.” He shakes his head, dismayed. “You’re wrong, Wes. Laken will be in danger for a very long time because of your foolishness.” He steps in quick and snatches me up by the collar, his angry mouth a breath away from mine. “I’ve got a little newsflash for you. The reason Laken and I haven’t sunk you into a grave of your own is because we have something far better waiting for you. A few friends of ours got together—all plotting your demise. We’re taking you to the Justice Alliance. We already submitted the suit against you long before you kidnapped Kres and deformed her. You’re going to rot in a hell of your own making. How dare you fuck my wife day in and day out back in time, here in the Transfer—both under false pretenses. You built a rock solid case against yourself, Wes. Going back to sleep with Laken was reprehensible, but when we learned of Kresley, we all but high-fived one another because you sealed your fate. You rape Laken every time you sleep with her, with Chloe in Laken’s form—with Kres and that mask she wears like a clown for you. The Justice Alliance is fucking pissed, and so am I. Remember back at Ephemeral when you came to me for advice? When I was your right-hand man? The cleanup committee? The one you relied on most? I was your fuckingbrain, Wes.” He gives me a hard shove, and I stagger to gain my footing. “When you stopped listening to me, you failed hard andfast.”
“Funny thing about that is you never encouraged me to run toLaken.”
“That’s because I knew you weren’t the one for her.Iwas.” He speeds past me into the house, and I swoop in besidehim.
