“All right, Skyla,” Emerson grunts. “I get it. You want to keep your hands clean. I’m just letting you know, Gage has a protective hedge around that bitch the likes of which Fort Knox has never seen. At most I think I can make her sick with poison.”
“Your brother can do that.” I nod up to the top of the house where both he and his paper-white bride sit perched, patiently watching the growing crowd below. “And judging by his proximity, I doubt Chloe is feeling too good right now. Besides, Gage threatened me to keep Holden away from her. He is protective about his favorite monster. I guess I couldn’t put the protective hedge past him.” My heart breaks all over again at the thought of him wasting a perfectly good protective hedge. “Wait on the poison. I’d hate for Gage to get his jollies off in some sick way, trying to get me back.” Especially when I’m about to get him back in a very big way. “Sometimes the greatest form of torment is to let people live the way they want to live. And with Chloe by his side, he’s bound to feel every ounce of misery life has to offer.”
“Fine, but before I go back, I’m getting in at least one good dose of arsenic.”
“Godspeed, Emerson.”
Ellis heads this way with Giselle in tow.
“Skyla!” Giselle hops and skips as she closes the gap between us. “Isn’t this wonderful? Emily is drawing a picture just for you!” G is decked out in full Cinderella garb, enormous baby blue ball gown, shimmering glass slippers, her dark hair is pulled back into a bun, and every inch of it sparkles with glitter. Ellis is dressed as Prince Charming in a white suit of sorts with large brass buttons running down in two rows across the front.
The fog is wafting in and out around us as the night grows increasingly icier, and yet Em is still racing away with her team of helpers handing her one blood-soaked mop after the other.
My hips ache and I struggle to shift my enormous frame. “I can hardly wait to see what she comes up with. Too bad I can’t take a freaking seat. I don’t think I’ve stood this long in the last six months.”
Ellis comes up alongside me and takes up my hand.Are we still on for tonight?
It’s a go,I assure him. “It’s going to be great, Ellis,” I say, nodding to Em, but I’m speaking about something else entirely. “Just you wait and see.”
Emily lets out a horrendous yelp, the same sort of sound that poor Bullet made this morning when I accidentally stepped on his tail. I didn’t mean it, of course. I’d step on my own tail if I had one. I’ve lost sight of my feet and anything that might be near them months ago.
Emily adds a few finishing touches from the top rung of the ladder before tossing down her mop like a javelin.
“This is for you, Skyla!” she shouts into the night before pencil diving to the ground, and everyone in the vicinity gasps and screams.
“Good Lord.” My insides seize at the thought of Em busting a hip. “Who the hell is going to feed me all those vegan meals if she’s in traction?”
I crane my neck and spot Em springing to her feet, much to the crowd’s delight. She heads over and fiddles with the enormous floodlight until it’s pointed at a hard angle and those bloodied scribbles start to take shape.
The crowd begins to gasp and choke as if the picture was starting to formulate into something that actually made sense.
A couple of familiar faces come barreling my way, and soon enough Laken is practically choking me with her arms circling my neck.
“You look adorable,” she says, pulling back. Laken is dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, her go-to costume, I suppose. It only makes sense. She is married to the Big Bad Wolf. But at the moment, she’s with a very sexy linebacker from Host.
“Hey, Coop.” I give him a hard wink. “Ready for a long night?”
“Looking forward to it.”
My stomach seizes again and I buck forward with the painful onslaught. “Where the hell is Logan?” I’m about to reach for my purse to grab my phone when Emily runs up, looking no worse for the Gothic wear. Her hair is a frizz ball and she’s got dark circles under her eyes, but that’s just par for the course these days. It turns out, baby Ella is a pistol.
“Pay attention, Messenger.” She points hard to the house. “That’s your face up there. Your eyes are shut, and your lips are pulled back.”
Laken groans at the sight, “Emily, that’s perfectly gruesome.”
Em grunts again, “Skyla will breathe her last.”
“What?” I take a staggering step forward as the picture comes in clear. “Oh my God.” There I am, face to heaven, my features bent with great distress, my hands flailing, my lips pursed.
Laken comes up beside me. “Skyla, don’t worry about it. I’ve seen that face before. Heck, I’ve made it. This obviously has to do with labor.”
“You’re right.” My entire body sags with relief. “I mean, I’m not going to die in labor. That hardly ever happens anymore. And God knows I’ll want to.”
The crowd disperses, and the music grows louder. Someone calls Laken’s name from afar and she turns.
“That’s Wes. I’ll be right back. Hey, you want me to call Logan for you?”
“Yes, God, yes. I think I’ll hang out here and catch my breath. I don’t think I can take another person bumping against my belly. If you see Marshall, send him over.”
