Evanescent - By Addison Moore Page 0,41

I say, lowering Pearl to her unsteady feet. “You okay?” I bow into her and examine the fear in her eyes as if her final moments were on the horizon, and they might be.

“Okay.” She nods, darting her head every which way as if anticipating an apocalypse.

“As far as I can tell, this is the main hub of the Transfer.” I take up Laken’s hand, ready and willing to give her the tour. “There’s a mansion out on the east side and a series of hills and rivers that snake throughout the terrain. I’ve found three waterfalls and a lake. The inhabitants aren’t too fond of Nephil-humans, so I don’t venture outside the lab, too often.”

“Lakes and rivers? Waterfalls and mansions? Sounds magical.” Laken bounces on her toes as if excited to see it.

“It’s not magical—demonic maybe. It’s more haunted than it is romantic, but if you want”—I tick my head toward Pearl—“after, I can show you around.”

“I want.” Laken tenderly clasps our fingers together. “I want to know the things you know. I never want there to be secrets between us.” She glances down a moment. “It’s funny because I keep saying that to Wes—and with you, I really feel like you hear the things I say. That you’ll keep your word and expose me to your world without hesitating.” She swallows hard. “I don’t know why the truth is so hard for some people.”

I shake my head. “I can’t say I’m too sorry, Laken. I’ve never been that impressed with Wes. You deserve better.”

Laken glances up. Her eyes widen with surprise at my brazen putdown of the love of her life.

“This way,” I whisper before I say something else that lands me in a bed by myself tonight. I lead Pearl and Laken down hall after hall until we hit an open room that’s cavernous in nature with a set of steel beds lining the center. The putrid stench of death fills the air like a gas. It makes Pearl’s scent seem like a floral bouquet on a summer afternoon.

“Cooking something up for dinner?” I tease as we make our way over to the old bat hunched at the counter.

Ezrina turns around, and Laken lets out a gasp.

Ezrina has a wild appeal in general. I suspect she’s used to the gasps and screams. Her orange hair sprays out like some demonic Bozo, her skin looks poorly stitched together, and she’s wrinkled and haggard beyond recognition of ever being human. Her crooked frame outshines that of Pearl’s in the I’m-so-much-more-damn-scarier-than-you department.

“Visitors?” Her voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard, and to add to the misery, it has a knack for echoing.

“You know Laken and Pearl. They’ve both been victim to your resurrection methods, one less successful than the other.”

“The Counts!” She lifts her hand to me as if she’s ready to smack me, and I yield to her twisted logic.

“I know it’s not you. It’s the Counts.” I shake my head a moment. “We need Pearl here spit shined and ready to go with a brand new version of herself in time for the weekend. She’s got a hot date.” I wink over at Laken. I’ve never had a serious conversation with this battle-ax, and I’m not about to start now.

Ezrina puts down the wicked tool she’s wielding and circles around Pearl. She pulls the Spectator’s hair back and inspects her neck for signs of trauma.

“Can be done,” she gravels.

“You can do this?” Laken steps into her, indignant at the possibility. “You can fix all these poor Spectators?”

“Try.” Ezrina shuffles toward the metal bathtub and begins to fill it with a blue solution from a hose off the floor.

“She’s not too big on complete sentences,” I whisper as we watch her gather her instruments of torture.

Pearl hobbles in close, her gaze drifts from me to Laken.

“I be okay?” she asks, vulnerable and afraid.

I don’t know what to tell her. She might die in a few minutes if things go very wrong and if history is in the mood to repeat itself, things will go very wrong.

Laken steps in and offers Pearl an all-encompassing embrace. She rubs her back and rocks her for a moment as if she were comforting a child.

“If Cooper trusts Ezrina, then so do I.” Laken pulls back with her arms still around the Spectator like they were old friends. “As soon as we get word about your restoration, we’ll be back to pick you up. You won’t be alone in the world. I promise.”

Tears stream