A Want So Wicked (A Need So Beautiful #2)(44)
Author: Suzanne Young

Rodney pulls himself up to his full height, his shoulders still tense. “And what would that be, my beauty?”

She smiles like a mad child. “That I can finally kill you.” She lunges forward, burying her hand deep inside his chest, her fist breaking through his rotted skin. Rodney screams in agony and falls to his knees in front of her, unable to fight even after Onika rips her hand from him. Black shadows seep from the hole left behind. Onika laughs, something low and filled with hatred as Rodney cries out, his flesh withering before flaking away. Onika watches, a smile on her lips as her skin smoothes like porcelain, gleaming against the dark night sky.

“Please,” Rodney murmurs as he lifts his arm to touch her. Before he can, his arm falls away; his entire body falls away, into ash—scattering on the floor of the building’s roof.

I scream, tripping over my own feet as I try to back away from the scene. Onika slowly turns. Her blue eyes widen, the skin around them cracking. And my heart stops.

“You,” she says, pointing directly at me. “What the hell are you doing back?”

CHAPTER 23

I sit up, sweat cooling on my skin. My chest heaves as I gasp for air. The eyes—Onika’s eyes—are still with me. I scramble out of bed, desperate to get away from the vision. It’s dim in the hallway, the only light coming from the television on in the living room.

What the hell are you doing back? Onika’s words are like a whisper in my ear. Fear surges through me and I move quickly toward the couch where Harlin is asleep. When I reach him, he wakes with a start.

“Elise?” He looks around. “Are you okay?” Harlin sits up, wincing when he puts too much weight on his arm.

“Can I stay here with you?” I blurt out. I’m trembling so badly that I’m not even sure I can stand anymore. Onika saw me in a vision. How is that possible? I wasn’t really there.

Harlin takes an uneasy glance toward my father’s room. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in your own—”

“Please? I’m scared.”

He reaches for me right then and pulls me to him. “You’re shaking.” His voice is low, concerned.

“I had a nightmare,” I say, knowing it sounds childish.

Harlin picks up the blanket that fell to the floor and lays it over my shoulders. Slowly the images of cracking skin and the feel of cold rain start to fade, replaced with something calmer. Replaced with Harlin.

“Come here,” he says, curling my body to his as he lies down. His hand slides over the bare skin of my arm, his breath in my hair. “Is this okay?” he asks.

I close my eyes. “Yes, it’s perfect.”

“What were you dreaming about?” he asks after a moment.

“Onika,” I say. “A horrible woman with a shattered face.”

Harlin holds me tighter, and when he speaks his voice is strained. “I know who she is. Monroe told me about her. And I know she’s evil.”

Sleep creeps over me, trying to steal my thoughts. It’s so late, and the vision has left me drained. I snuggle into Harlin, blocking out the images that are haunting me. “Onika wants to kill me,” I murmur. “And I have to find Monroe to learn how to stop her.”

And when Harlin promises he’ll help me, I drift away.

* * *

“Hi,” Lucy calls from the kitchen doorway.

I jump, my forehead connecting with something hard, and yelp. Underneath me, Harlin clutches his chin, moaning in a half-sleep stupor. I quickly realize that it’s morning and roll off the couch, banging my elbow on the coffee table when I do.

“Ow,” I mumble, rubbing my funny bone.

“I’m sorry,” my sister says. “I thought I should wake you before Dad sees you out here.” She hitches up her eyebrow. “On top of each other.”

Harlin slowly pulls himself into a sitting position, blinking as if trying to clear his vision. The clock on the wall reads 6 a.m. I turn to Lucy from my spot on the floor and see that she’s wearing her coat. She must have snuck out again. “Are you just getting home?” I ask. She shoots Harlin an uneasy glance.

“Crazy night,” she offers as if this can explain everything. The dark circles under her eyes are caked over in makeup, her hands barely poking out from her sleeves.

Harlin straightens. “Lucy, you shouldn’t—”

“I don’t recall asking your opinion, Harlin,” she says.

Just then the door to the master bedroom squeaks open, and my father shuffles out. He’s tying his striped robe when he sees us and pauses. “Is there a party going on?” he asks.

Lucy ducks her head and starts down the hall, patting our father’s arm as she passes him. I’m surprised at her behavior toward Harlin, but he doesn’t mention it. Instead Harlin starts folding the blanket as if he was planning to get up this insanely early all along.

“Sorry,” I say to my father. “Hope we didn’t wake you. After last night, I wanted to check on Harlin’s arm.”

He tilts his head like he is absolutely sure I’m lying. “And how is his arm, Elise?” he asks.

“Uh . . . better?”

My father stands motionless for a second, and then he shakes his head and walks into the kitchen. I hear the clink of cups, and then the running of water for the coffeepot.

“That was a nice save,” Harlin says, sounding amused. “So detailed. Like a nurse.”

“Shut up, Harlin,” I say, trying not to smile. “I didn’t hear you offer anything better.”

“You sure you didn’t want to tell him we were playing doctor? That might have sounded more believable.”

I turn quickly and swat at him. He laughs, dodging my swing, and catches my hand. “I would tackle you right here,” he says, leaning close. “Pin you and kiss you. But with the luck we have in your house, someone will walk in. And then what will you tell them?” he whispers. “That you were giving me CPR?”

“Stop!” I slap his shoulder again.

“Elise,” my father calls from the kitchen.

“Yes?” I respond, ignoring the smirk on Harlin’s lips.

“Maybe you can come in here and let Harlin get dressed.” He pauses. “Alone.”

Harlin and I exchange a look, and laugh. Then he heads down the hallway toward the bathroom.

When I walk into the kitchen, my father is pouring two cups of coffee. “So,” he says now that Harlin is safely away. “Is he your boyfriend?”