Celestra: Books 1-2

by Addison Moore

  He bangs my head hard against the wall, pushes his fingers into my cheeks.

  “You going to tell?” He says mockingly. “You let out my little secret, I’ll let out yours. The Counts want to know what Celestra on this planet killed my brother. I can make them leave it alone—save you from prison. Or maybe you want to go? Maybe you’re up for a jumpsuit vacation?”

  It’s, Pierce!

  I can hear him feeling around his person before a piece of paper gets shoved in my hand.

  “That’s a copy of the letter I stopped my dad from sending out,” he sears the words into the side of my face. “You can thank me later. And you will.”

  He takes off, leaving a vacuum in his wake. I can hear the roar of the crowd liven then die down as the door opens and closes. I make wild strides toward the exit, slamming into a wall before flicking on the lights.

  A big yellow sign sits outside the bathroom, that reads, Cleaning, do not enter. I give it a swift kick before heading back into the crowd.

  ***

  I spot Logan first—embedded three deep in the bitch squad. I try to circumvent the head-on collision by rounding out to the other side, but there’s a barrier of tables and chairs interlocked with people, so I turn to face them.

  “You’re bleeding.” He rushes over and picks up my arm.

  “Oh my, God! She slit her wrist!” Lexy screams. There’s a clear look of disgust on her face, and she starts to retch. Emily pulls her to the side, and they continue to gawk over at me from a safe distance.

  “Holy Shit!” Michelle plunges the black rose on her necklace back and forth like a nervous twitch. That single action alone is probably calling an entire army of Fems. She’s a magnet for them now, sort of like me.

  “Ouch,” I yell as Logan straps his tie around my wrist, tight as noose. “You’re cutting off the circulation.”

  He tilts his head at the irony. Logan has a calm way about him. Something noble, it’s as though he’s living out his true age in this younger teenage version of himself.

  “How old are you again?” The words swim from my mouth dreamy. It’s fuzzy math that involves another place, another time, and I really can’t remember.

  “Too old for you.” His brows peak briefly. “Let’s get you out of here. What happened?” he whispers, as we make our way out of the main entry of the resort, into the brisk night air.

  I look around suspiciously.

  “I don’t want to tell you, not here.”

  He plucks his phone out and texts Gage.

  “It didn’t look that deep.” His eyes sweep up and down. “You look beautiful.” He rubs my shoulders, and pulls me in a little.

  “I don’t feel beautiful.” I hold up my hands, revealing the fact I’m still clenching the paper.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a love letter from my attacker.” I hold it close to my chest. “What’s taking Gage so long?” My muscles quiver from the cold.

  Logan takes off his jacket and swings it around my shoulders. It carries his scent—all of his warmth.

  “It’s too hard to be away from you,” I say. There isn’t anything more true in this entire world.

  He presses his lips together and leans in close to my ear.

  “When the faction war is over, we can be together if that’s what you want.” He pulls back and lets me see the heaviness in his eyes. He presses out a dry smile. “But according to Gage, you won’t choose me.”

  38

  Lead Me

  Dr. Oliver is already in bed when we get to the house. Logan runs up to get him as Gage settles me at the breakfast table, the usual spot where I pay my medical visits. I’m starting to think of this place less as Gage or Logan’s house, and more like the Oliver free clinic.

  “Another infliction?” Dr. Oliver is wearing white and blue striped flannel pajamas and now he’s really starting to feel like my own dad—definitely more of a dad than Tad will ever be.

  He pulls off the blood-encrusted tie and glances briefly at the slanted incision.

  “I’m going to glue you. I like that better than stitches. Let’s see the hand.”

  I raise my other arm.

  “It’s not infected, just banged up a bit. Skins healing nicely.” He pulls down my choker to inspect the wound on my neck. “Skyla, you’re incredibly anemic.”

  “Put some of my blood back in me.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that. Besides, your body is working hard to regenerate, just keep out of trouble.”

  Gage looks at me wild-eyed as though that were impossible.

  “I will,” I say it with authority. I can believe almost any of my own lies.

  Once he finishes pressing my skin back together, he says goodnight and heads upstairs.

  Gage helps me over to the family room and onto the navy corduroy couch. I love sitting here, comfortable and warm next to Gage, listening to his steady breathing.

  Logan breezes in with a clipboard and wags it in the air before handing it to Gage.

  Attached is the crinkled piece of paper I was clutching, complete with bloodied fingerprints.

  “What is this?” I’m too far gone with fatigue to read the tiny font, too many letters crammed on one page.

  “It’s from Arson Kragger’s office, Attorney at Law,” Logan says that last part drawn out in a sarcastic drawl. “They know you crashed the truck into Kragger’s Hummer, or at least believe you did, and they’re threatening to take legal action against your parents. They’re threatening them with the loss of their home.” Logan taps near the line that reads equity at or below five hundred thousand dollars.

  “Are you serious?” My entire body goes numb with shock. “It was Pierce. He said he knew I killed his brother, and if I told, he’d turn me in.”

  “You think he messed with things to keep you out of jail?” Gage doesn’t sound convinced.

  “That day with Marshall, we went to see Ezrina…she had Holden’s body, she found Celestra DNA. Yeah, I think Pierce might be the key to keeping me out of cell block five.” I stare into the carpet.

  “Crap.” Gage pulls me in, warms my shoulder with his hand.

  Logan kneels down beside me. He pulls the bloodied paper off the top of the clipboard exposing a list of names, towns, provinces.

  “The list you wanted. I did some research and found out where the Celestra that were killed lived.” He flicks his finger at the paper. “Regional leaders.”

  “They’re the ones that needed to approve the bloodshed?” I ask.

  “Yup.” Logan’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t take his eyes off me, or offer me an out to his bionic stare. There’s something surging here, a distinct emotion pulsating between the two of us, and I’m not quite sure how to read it.

  “Give me the regional leader’s name for the Los Angeles council.” I want to nail the bastard who thought it was a good idea to burn my father.

  Logan pushes the page back and strums his fingers against the board.

  “I’m one step ahead of you.”

  It reads, D. Edinger

  ***

  I finally manage to crawl into bed. I don’t bother to take off the shoes or the dress two sizes too small, instead, I greedily close my eyes and start floating off to sleep—glorious sleep. A loud hissing sound erupts, and I flip my light on in a panic only to find Ellis standing in my room.

  “I thought you were a Fem. You scared the crap out me!” I snap.

  “We have a date.”

  “Why would I want to go back with you? Why would I go anywhere with you after you fed me pot-laced brownies?” Honestly, I’d take Ellis on a light drive, but already this has been one freaking long ass day.

  “Nobody forced them down your throat.” Ellis gives a low guttural laugh.

  People have been forcing a lot of things down my throat lately, like knives, and straws, and fangs, but I guess Ellis is right—the brownies sort of went down voluntarily.

  “Come on, we’ll be quick,” he whispers.

&
nbsp; “I don’t think I can do it. I’ve had my superpowers revoked.” I try and push him away with my foot.

  “What’s the matter?” He gives a critical stare.

  “I’m anemic.”

  “Let’s try,” he insists.

  Ellis and his unsinkable spirit. I shake my head and I look over at Chloe’s diary sitting there, in all of its malevolent splendor.

  “OK, Let’s try.” I get out of bed and hold Ellis by the hand.

  Maybe if I can somehow get us there, Chloe herself can give me the answers I’m looking for.

  ***

  The night air on Paragon, albeit one-year stale, spears through my dress, turns the chains across my back into icicles.

  It all feels rather déjà vu-ish. I don’t know if that’s because we’ve been here for what feels like a gazillion times or if it’s because only a few hours ago homecoming was reprising itself.

  “Give me your hand.” I take him by the arm and touch his flesh, not waiting for him to respond. “Say something.” I’m so shocked that I managed to land us here—I’m hoping everything is back in working order. I hone in on him and focus on hearing his thoughts.

  Ellis raises his brows in a seductive manner.

  “You didn’t hear me.” He rakes his fingers through his hair before taking off.

  Ellis goes straight to work. He doesn’t bother drawing me into conversations about his duplicate self, hooking up with some girl, or multiple girls from East.

  I walk through the darkened house full of partially inebriated bodies.

  Usually, while Ellis gets his stash, I’m cowering in the back staring at Logan while he talks to Carly or watching Gage from a safe distance, in the event he tries to make out with me again—although I wouldn’t really mind.

  The fireplace hisses like a whispering lion. The mouth—the opening is enormous, easily a person can fall in, burn just like my father did, like those Celestras.

  The family room expands before me and I see her sitting on the couch with her bare legs hanging over the edge, bright red polish on her toes.

  “Skyla?” Chloe crinkles her nose in amusement. “How’s it going?” The tiara dangles crooked in her hair.

  “Congratulations.” I don’t bother answering her question.

  A boisterous crowd rushes in. Chloe’s eyes widen at something behind me, and she spins herself to an upright position.

  “What’s going on?” A guy with brown wavy hair and giant bee-stung lips, appears by my side.

  “Private conversation.” Chloe gets up and pushes him away.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” His eyes are dull as coal.

  “Holden.” She stretches her hand over him.

  Shit!

  He looks boyish, harmless, and, of all the things I don’t want him to be—nice.

  “And who is this mouth-watering piece of ass?” He sneers in my direction.

  That’s better. I’m glad he was able to eradicate some of my guilt, not that I’m looking for justification. It was a total accident. Or, at least, I believe it was.

  “No one you need to know.” Chloe sinks her hands in his chest. “Get lost. I think Ellis is running low on supplies, maybe you can conduct business and leave us the hell alone.”

  Perfect. He’s a dealer, too. Add that to his growing list of charming traits. Not that Ellis has needed his services for a good long while. That’s what I’m for now.

  “I must be dead.” He sweeps his eyes over me while circling me slowly. “Because I think I’m looking at an angel.”

  Right on both counts. “I’m not from around here,” I say.

  Chloe holds up a finger, advising me to be quiet.

  “Alright.” He holds his arms out and backs away.

  Chloe turns to collect her shoes from off the floor. She bunches up her baby blue gown and it gives the illusion she’s encapsulated in a giant storm cloud. Chloe is her own weather system—a hurricane—somehow I find this plausible.

  Holden comes in tight, grabs my wrist and massages the incision his brother inflicted.

  “So nice to see you, Skyla.” He gives the slight hint of a laugh. “We must meet like this again.” He pushes his face into mine and presses his lips on the side of my face.

  Chloe barrels over and pulls me out toward the door. I turn around and he’s gone—vanished like smoke.

  39

  Into the Woods

  I follow Chloe outside as the fog breathes over us in cold jagged sighs. My teeth start in on a violent chatter—I’m not sure if it’s because I’m suddenly beyond freezing or the fact I think I just had a formal introduction to Holden Kragger’s ghost.

  We round out the side of the fence and drift toward the thicket of trees to the left of the house.

  “What are you doing?” I break free from her grasp. I know what happens in these woods, and I know damn well I can’t stop her from dying thanks to my father’s unfortunate demise.

  “Are you crazy walking around in there?” Her eyes flash. “You’re going to impress yourself on all those people.” She continues deeper into the forest.

  The shadows of the branches fall to the ground like battling swords.

  “I wanted to talk about your diary.” My whisper comes out in a series of hisses.

  “You didn’t finish it,” she says knowingly.

  “I know you loved Gage.”

  “Old news.” She shrugs into the dark. “Does he love you?” The question floats up in the air and circles my head like a wreath. There’s a long pause. “I thought so. I guess the million dollar question is, do you love him back?” There’s a hard glint in her eyes.

  I can see Chloe a little clearer now that I’ve read her diary. She’s not the kind of person I thought she was, not even close.

  “He gave me Nevermore.”

  “How clever of you to avoid the question by letting me know you stole someone else from underneath me.”

  “You’re not with us anymore.” There’s just not one nice way to say you’re dead.

  “I will be.”

  I cast a glance into the forest. I wonder if I should tell Chloe that I’m too weak to give anymore blood—that I’m afraid I won’t be able to bring Ellis and me home tonight.

  “You said, Lexy Bakova knew how to bind a Fem,” I say.

  “So that’s what you want?” Chloe creates a steady stream of fog with her sigh. “I promise, you will never be able to bind a Fem, Skyla.”

  “If it’s possible, then I will.”

  “She won’t tell. She’ll take it to the grave.” She progresses deeper into the dark, crushing the brush beneath her feet.

  “What do the Kragger’s have on you? Why are you letting them do the things they’re doing to you? Did you kill someone?”

  She turns and breathes a steady fog of frustration from her lips.

  “Turn the page, Skyla.”

  “And what did you mean that this was going to change everything?” If she only answered one question, I’d like for it to be this one.

  Chloe reaches up and caresses the side of my face with her hand. Her warm fingers tug down slowly against my cheek as if she were trying to pull my skin off.

  “I know that you’ll piece it all together. You’re a smart girl and I’m sure you’ll figure things out. You love me right now and that’s all that matters,” she whispers. “Sometimes you have to take the affection others are willing to give you at that precise moment, before they learn the truth about you and revoke it.”

  My name echoes in the distance. It’s Ellis.

  “I don’t know if I’ll get back,” I say mostly to myself. “I’ve lost too much blood.”

  She pulls her dress up and produces a small pocketknife from a pink frilly garter around her thigh. The blade catches a glint of moonlight before she slits her left arm right up the middle. Without warning, she reopens the slit on my wrist—it peels back effortlessly as though it were thinking of reopening anyway. She rubs our arms together hard, creating an unc
omfortable friction. It feels unnaturally intimate, obtrusive, horribly invading. A warm rush pushes through me. Something supernatural is happening, I can feel it.

  I hear a hiss just beyond the rim of the forest.

  “Run, Chloe,” I shout as I head out toward Ellis. “Run!” I scream.

  I don’t hear her footsteps behind me.

  ***

  Alone in my bed on Paragon, I’m relieved to hear the rain batter down on my wood-covered window as I shrink beneath the sheets. My arm is covered in dried blood, but miraculously I feel better, stronger—infused. I remember that cut from Chloe’s arm, the one I wear now as my own. I run my finger over the scar that never healed. It was for me, this one.

  I flip the light on and pull out Chloe’s diary. Turn the page, she says. So many damn pages to turn and a part of me just wants to go to sleep.

  September 7th,

  School starts tomorrow. Bleh. Went to the bonfire and made out with Logan like the world was going to end tomorrow. I saw Gage shoot daggers at us from across the way. I hope it burned for him to see me with someone else. I know on some level he must care. There was something in his eyes, although with my luck, it was probably smoke.

  Pierce texted me. Today was Emerson’s birthday, would have been anyway. Wish I never knew her—any of them.

  OK, so who’s Emerson?

  September 9th,

  Ellis freaked out. It wouldn’t have been all that bad if he didn’t choose to unleash his tirade in the quad, in front of Gage and Logan. He totally made me look like a royal bitch when he accused me of cheating. Can you believe it? I don’t cheat. I was never with Ellis. You have to be with somebody to cheat.

  He pulled me back by the elbow when I tried to flee the scene, told me it was killing him to see me running around with other guys, like there’s some long list of people I’ve been with or something. I think he’s got like this competition thing with Logan. Well, anyway, he lost. But really, he didn’t, I was never his to begin with.