Chapter 7 #2
The last time I was here, I took that thorny rose from her, intending to somehow use it against Chloe. But instead, as my haunted luck would have it, during our struggle for the spooky pendant, I may have accidentally swallowed it, unleashing a nightmare that cursed me for weeks.
“Oh, for freaks’ sake,” I mutter. There’s no way I’m reliving those inglorious hellish days.
Not this time. Not anytime.
“Michelle,” I snap, moving toward her with purpose. “Are you feeling okay?” It’s more or less a rhetorical question, but I need to get the conversational ball rolling somehow, and also somehow get the point across that I come in peace.
“No, but yes, I see them. They—” She starts to babble on about flying people and taking flight herself while pointing at the ceiling.
Wonderful.
That demonic pendant hangs around her neck, like a noose pulsating with enough dark energy to outfit all of hell. I remember Marshall calling it “that rose of a thousand nightmares,” and a “haunted bloom.” And let’s just say both of those monikers are putting it lightly.
I’m calling it all Michelle Miller’s dumb fault for lusting after that snake Marshall is reticent to keep in his pants. Not that she was alone in her endeavor. Marshall really did get around, or should I say, his snake did.
This time, there is no way I’m touching that dusty, crusty rose. No way, no how am I even getting near it, let alone gulping it down and waiting for a fun trip to the toilet so that metal multi-pronged devil can rip its way out of my backside as it did once upon a haunted time.
Nope. No thanks.
“Logan,” I hiss with a newfound urgency, “we need to get Michelle away from everyone—and possibly herself. That pendant on her necklace is making her insane.”
“Are you talking about that rose?” he asks, wincing at it as if it might jump out and bite him. But knowing Michelle’s history with this particular Oliver, she would much rather do the biting herself. “What about it?”
“Long story short—in our original go-around, I ended up swallowing it during a fight with my least favorite devil, Chloe. Let’s just say it was bad news. Really freaking bad. Think indigestion with a side of demonic possession.”
He takes a moment to frown my way. “Skyla, are you saying we should—”
“Not repeat that particular mistake? Hell yes.”
I turn back to Michelle, who’s still lost in a riveting conversation with herself about flying things and people that only she can see while that wicked rose glistens in the dim light, glowing an unnatural shade of umber against her skin.
“Michelle,” I all but growl at her. I can’t help it.
Michelle and I were never all that close.
The entire bitch squad more or less declared me an enemy of the state—or the island as it were, as soon as I stepped onto this haunted rock in some bizarre show of allegiance to Chloe, who wasn’t even alive at the time.
It was twisted. “Michelle, maybe you should take that necklace off?” How can I put this so she might have half a chance of understanding it.
“It like totally clashes with your outfit.” I make a face and she simply gapes at me.
“What?” she hisses my way, looking ten times more annoyed than she usually is with me.
Not to mention that she looks as if she has some sort of supernatural desire to claw the skin right off my bones.
And considering I need this teenage costume to get me back to my children, I need to do everything I can to preserve the host that’s currently keeping my soul under wraps.
“The bloom speaks,” she all but chokes out the words, clutching the necklace with trembling fingers.
“It’s so beautiful, Skyla. It speaks inside my head.
It tells me things. It wants me to do things.
Horrible things to others and myself. But I need it, Skyla.
Dudley gave it to me. It’s his heart on a string. ”
Oh, for Pete’s sake. I can’t help but roll my eyes.
Why am I trying to reason with a lunatic? With or without that haunted rose strapped to her body, Michelle would rather eat gravel than listen to any word of advice I’d have to give. And judging by the present circumstances, she’s well on her way to making all of her gravel-eating dreams come true.
Logan steps forward. “Let me help you with that,” he offers, reaching toward the necklace, and for a second, I fear for his fingers.
Michelle hisses like a half-starved alley cat and backs away as if he threatened to strangle her with the haunted chain. Honestly, a good strangulation is not off the table.
“Mine,” she growls, her voice dropping to a spooky octave.
If Emily’s family home didn’t feel like a creepy haunted house before with its plethora of glowing dragon knick-knacks running amok, it sure as heck does now.
And whatever happened to that trend of decorating with geese?
My mother had a small flock in every room of the house at one point.
But that was when we lived back in L.A. And after our world burned to the ground when my father died, we traded geese for dragons and Dad for Tad.
A heavy sigh escapes me at the thought. And how I hate that Dad and Tad rhyme.
“Take that damn rose off, Miller,” I bark at her like a drill sergeant.
“Marshall gave it to me,” she thunders. “To ME.”
And he’s giving me a headache by proxy. I can’t wait to hunt down the surly Sector and thank him later.
Hey? I bet he can pull some celestial strings and get Logan and me home. Although knowing Marshall, he’ll require me to sleep with him as payment.
I consider this for a moment. It is for the greater good…
A burst of heat whips through me at the thought.
Wow, how did I ever survive my teenage years without hitting the sheets with Logan, Gage, and Marshall all at once?
Not that I didn’t give it the old college try—or high school try as it stands.
These hormones are no joke and should come with a warning label, not that I would have read it.
Logan and I exchange a quick glance. This is definitely not how tonight went the first time around. Maybe we really should leave well enough alone. I mean, eventually, Michelle recovered from that haunted rose. And she looked pretty cute in a baseball cap while waiting for her hair to grow back.
“Okay,” I say soothingly. “Keep it. But maybe go sit down somewhere quiet?”
Like a dark corner so that Logan and I can knock her over the head with a baseball bat and take the necklace off ourselves when she’s unable to claw our eyes out.
Speaking of baseball bats, I crane my head into the crowd on the lookout for Gage once again, but he’s drifted out of sight.
Michelle nods vaguely and wanders off, the rose swinging against her chest as if doing its haunted best to hypnotize anyone unlucky enough to glance in its direction.
“That was close,” I murmur. “At least I’m too smart to touch the thing now—let alone shove it down my throat.”
Logan nods. “Should we go deal with Chloe? Gage obviously isn’t smart enough not to touch her. And Chloe would certainly love to shove him down her throat.”
I shoot him a look for even going there before scanning the vicinity, and sure enough, I spot them.
It’s true, Gage is still being harassed by the bitchy Bishop’s wandering hands.
And I’ll admit, that jealousy flares in my chest like an explosion at a fireworks factory before I remind myself that this is ancient history—literally.
But since I’ve already toyed with the idea of strangulation, I wouldn’t mind pointing my homicidal tendencies in Chloe’s direction.
“No,” I decide. “The original version of tonight spiraled into a basement fight where Chloe sliced open my face and I accidentally swallowed that cursed rose. I vote we avoid that entire haunted scenario. Gage can handle her for one night. I think.” I frown at Chloe as she continues her assault on my future husband.
“Maybe we should hit Ellis up for some of his stash and have a mellow night staring at that dragon’s head mounted in Em’s living room instead. ”
“Now there’s something I never thought I’d hear come out of your mouth.
” Logan takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“Good call, steering clear of drama—not so much on the weed. I think we need to stay focused on the task at hand and secure this anchor—whatever that means—and most importantly, stay sober so we can get the heck out of here.”
“Right. Anchor and exit,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut tight for a moment in hopes this is all a bad dream.
We move through the party, taking in our teenage friends with new eyes.
Brielle flirts aggressively with a basketball player in the corner.
Nat and Lexy huddle together by the snack table, whispering and shooting daggers behind Chloe’s back.
Ellis keeps darting concerned glances our way, clearly confused by my lack of jealous rage.
That, or he’s sorely disappointed that we’re not lighting up with him tonight.
Not that we ever did. Often. But he always held out hope.
Let the record show, I did put in a request, but Logan was quick to shoot it down.
Logan shakes his head. “I can’t get over how surreal this is. It’s like watching a home movie of our lives, except we’re living it. No offense to present company, but it sort of feels like a nightmare.”
“No offense taken and I totally agree,” I say, leading him toward the massive painting in the dining room that had so captivated me that night, the one depicting the faction war we hadn’t yet fought, complete with Marshall overseeing the battle.