“I know what it changed.”
“What’s that, Skyla?” Her eyes sparkle with anticipation.
“Everything, between you and me.”
I don’t tell her that it touched down like a tornado and solidified my feelings for Gage, or that it drove Logan away, or that I may never look at Brielle the same way again.
It feels good razing over the truth, watching it rise and blossom in our conversation, natural as breathing.
“You have my father’s blood on your hands. You can’t expect to get away with it.”
“Well, now we’ve got a party.” She pushes out a smile.
“So Brielle was just a plant?” A part of me can’t believe that, even if it’s true. “And who’s the boyfriend?” Like I don’t know it was supposed to be Ellis. “Backfire much?”
“Nothing I do backfires.” Her eyes light up with anger.
“You couldn’t land Gage. He wants me—always has.” I wave his love for me like a banner.
“He’ll be mine. Everything I planned is coming true. You standing here is evidence of that.”
“I’m not with Ellis, and you’re not going to live.”
“Ellis?” She laughs when she says his name. “I live, Skyla, and it’s by your blood that I do it.”
The forest comes alive with a series of thuds and hisses.
“Fems!” A sheer look of panic grips her. “It’s happening.” She pulls me forward and propels me like a human shield.
“Skyla!” My name booms from somewhere outside the woods.
I can’t tell whether it’s Logan, Gage or Ellis for that matter.
“In here!” Chloe shouts.
A tall black dog standing upright, with three snapping heads stomps in our direction.
“Shit!” She pulls in behind me.
“You don’t get it.” I try and fling her in the Fem’s direction. “I’m not here to help you. I’m not bringing you back. I’m never going to help you. I’m never not going to try and kill you.”
The Fem gyrates wildly, with tongues as long as leashes. Chloe charges at it with the stick in her hand, spears it through the throat. She ducks behind a tree before taking off into the night.
The beast growls and staggers in my direction. Chloe didn’t kill it. She only managed to piss it off. It barrels toward me in a fit of wild thrashing, swiping the air, and I run in the opposite direction.
I can hear them—everywhere. Like a bad dream they snap branches from trees as though they were pretzels—groan like dying prisoners.
Chloe screams. I run toward her at a quickened pace dodging trees, hitting trees, twisting in and out of this disorganized maze of nature.
“Skyla!” It’s Logan.
I run faster away from his voice. I can hear Gage shouting in the distance. Gage might let me do it, but Logan—I don’t know if he’d stand by and watch me kill Chloe— if he’d help if I needed him to.
“Skyla, wait!”
The heavy sound of his erratic breathing propels me forward like springs.
“Get away from me!” I shout, running through a small clearing toward Chloe’s cries for help.
“Please, wait!” He snatches at my elbow twice before spinning me around.
We pant out of rhythm, creating a dense layer of fog between us.
“Don’t do it.” Logan squints into me. There’s a genuine anguish in his face that begs me to listen. “She’s going to die tonight. It doesn’t have to be by your hand.”
For a moment I forget about Chloe and a forest full of Fems, instead I shove him hard in the chest.
“You didn’t fight for me!” I roar the words from the deepest part of my soul. It’s anguish losing him. There aren’t enough tears, or I hate yous, to convey how terrible he’s made me feel.
“I am fighting for you,” it comes out strong, genuine and tender.
Chloe’s wails of terror light up the night.
Logan steps forward, his amber eyes glow in the reserve moonlight filtering down from the branches. He pulls me in and kisses me full on the mouth, a hot hungry bite of heat that lets me know he’s still in the ring, that his love for me is alive and burning— primal in his gut.
I pull back and pant into the dense night air.
Chloe calls my name, begging for my help.
“I have to go.” I run into the thick of the woods at breakneck pace. I don’t bother looking back.
50
Watch You Bleed
Paragon trembles beneath my feet. Entire explosions ricochet throughout the forest. I see arms and legs moving. It’s Michelle. She’s trapped by the rotting corpse of a Fem, pinned between two trees. Another Fem covered in thick dark hair claws at her back. Michelle lives. This I know.
“Payback’s a bitch,” I mutter.
I turn and charge toward Chloe’s voice, clutching at the dagger in my hand with bionic force.
“Skyla?” Chloe comes at me bloodied, her bottom lip swelling on one side.
A shag of red hair shoots out of the darkness like a flare—Ezrina. She bolts forward with that strange sense of calm, grips Chloe by the back of the hair and starts to drag her off.
“No!” I pluck Chloe free and pull her over a landmine of tree roots bulging out of the ground like a series of petrified snakes. “She’s mine.” I secure her arms behind her back and run her into the pit of the forest in an effort to lose Ezrina.
Chloe struggles to get her bearings. She hits me hard in the face with the back of her hand and knocks me to the ground.
I clasp onto her ankles before she has the chance to flee and cause her to sit down hard. The dagger strays near my ribcage, and I pick it up again and touch it. It lights up the night, ethereal—a lovely, deadly shade of blue.
One incision—death without pain. This was far too easy.
Instead, I hike up Chloe’s dress and run my hand up her thigh until I hit the pocketknife clipped to her garter.
“Skyla, no!” It sounds like more of a command than a plea.
“This is for my dad.” I slash through her arms and legs. I remember where each clean slit was made into her flesh from seeing her in the morgue, and replicate it.
“You can’t kill me! I’m coming back.” She tries to break free from my grasp. I turn her over, and clutch her hands high up behind her back until I feel the bones bend unnaturally. She lets out a horrid groan, and I relent. “Gage, he told me,” she screams. “There’s nothing you can do, Skyla. I’ll be there.”
“There’s no more blood for you. I won’t give it.” I reach over and pat the ground for the dagger, but it’s missing. I pat out further, losing my grasp on her wrists.
Before I realize it Chloe thrusts me upside down, flat on my back. The glint of the silver pocketknife shines in her hand.
“First time was practice.” She presses the cold steel against my neck.
It was Chloe. Chloe Bishop slit my throat.
The dagger spins over to me by way of a tennis shoe. I look up in time to see Logan topple Chloe off me.
It feels good holding the knife that will kill my enemy. I pulsate my fingers over the handle. This is all the vindication I will ever need to avenge my father’s death—a soul for a soul.
Chloe and Logan roll around in the dirt. I wait until she makes one final revolution before plunging the dagger deep in her back, the handle rising just beneath her shoulder like a stump.
Chloe falls over, motionless.
Logan locks me in a tight embrace before we head on out.
“Where is she?” Ezrina looks frazzled. Her voice echoes through the forest like a flock of nervous birds.
I point back at Chloe. A single beam of moonlight underscores her being. She’s become a wilted flower, a terrible wasted thing of beauty.
I killed her. It was my hand.
We changed the future—Logan and me.
51
Happy Birthday
The window in my bedroom has been replaced. A white-framed casement window has been newly
installed, and I roll it open and let the pale wisps of precipitation in. It feels good to be back on Paragon in the right time, with my blood regenerating, building its strength back up inside my marrow.
Nevermore comes and sits on the perch outside my window.
“Nev,” I say his name sweetly as I usher him in.
He looks majestic—pulsating around my dresser, the bed, my desk.
Chloe’s gone like a bad dream I’ll never have to reprise. We took the diary to the hotel incinerator last night and watched it erupt in a ball of fire as it met with the flames below.
It feels good to have rectified the death of my father. His blood was spilt for mine, and now the one who depended on it for her survival will never get another drop.
The death, the grief, it moves in a circle—makes a complete hoop of sorrow.
I click my tongue and hold out my hand as Nev jumps up on my arm like a perch. I can feel his heft, feel the weight of his stare as he studies me.
“You’re mine now. No more Chloe,” I say.
“Skyla and Gage,” he calls broken, sounding a lot like Gage himself.
“That’s right.” I rub the back of my finger over his feathers. “Skyla and Gage,” I whisper.
I’ve changed one scenario from the future, but do I want to change another?
***
Mom insists the family take me out for an early birthday dinner.
It doesn’t feel like my birthday, even though Brielle had everyone sing to me on the ferry ride home. Well, almost everyone. Pierce, Michelle and Lexy kept their mouths glued shut.
“The bowling alley?” I ask my mother as we pull into the parking lot. It looks dark and abandoned.
“I thought it’d be fun. Besides, it’s not like you have to work. And we can play a few games as a family. When was the last time we bowled together?” She looks hopeful.
On the bright side, either Logan or Gage will be working and I’ll get to hang out with them. I get out of the car and let the white breath of fog cover me soft as fleece. A car whizzes by on the road, stealing the purity from the evening breeze, replacing it with a chemical-filled groan as we make our way inside.
The lights in the game room blink in agitation as we make our way into the bowling alley. Only the reserve lighting is on, glowing in a stream of beautiful pale blues and purples.
“Surprise!” Dozens of voices shout in unison.
The house lights flicker on and off and a sea of faces from West stare back at me.
“Happy birthday.” Logan gives a brief warm hug.
“Hey, birthday girl!” Gage swoops in with a hug. “You OK?”
“Yeah,” I whisper in his ear. The sign on the wall reads, Happy Birthday, Skyla and Gage! “Happy birthday to you!” I smile for the first time in what feels like years.
I pull Gage off to the side as Logan rushes back and forth to a giant buffet table set out.
“Um,” I whisper. “So, maybe tomorrow we can hang out, just you and me. I mean, I know it’s your actual birthday and all, but maybe after you spend some time with your family…”
He looks down at me with a perfect mix of desire and contentment.
“I would love that.” His dimples cut in hard on either side. “Maybe we could go snorkeling again? I promise I won’t let go this time.” He picks up my hand and gives it a light squeeze.
“I won’t either. I’ll never let go.” I don’t break our gaze when I say it.
This is a new journey for the two of us, and I plan on giving it one hundred percent. I need to be certain with every cell of my body that Gage is my destiny. I don’t know how long the faction war will last, if it will ever end, but something is stirring deep inside my soul—it lets me know that this moment is right for us.
Now that I know the future is governable by our own hopes and desires—that passion can alter circumstances—I want to stretch across the vast expanse of possibilities and discover them for myself.
“Tomorrow.” I press in a quick kiss. There is so much hope in that word.
Emma and Dr. Oliver come over quickly and wish us a happy birthday.
I see Marshall testing out the heft of bowling balls with Michelle. She fingers the rose around her neck as she considers her decision. Looks like some things never change.
Logan comes over and asks me to follow him into the kitchen. He waves his hands and presents the fully functioning facility.
“It’s open!” I beam. “This is great.”
“I wanted to surprise you. What better way to open than celebrating your birthday?” He steps forward, his eyes squint through a mixture of sorrow and gladness. “I have something for you.” He pulls something from his pocket and takes up my hand, pressing it gently into my palm without revealing it. “It’s a token of my affection. I thought maybe if you doubted how I felt, you could look down and see it—know that I love you even if…” He glances out the kitchen door. “Even if this is your time with Gage.” He pulls back revealing a shiny pewter band with a butterfly on top.
“It’s so sweet.” I place it on the ring finger of my left hand without thinking.
“No,” he gives a broken whisper. “For this finger.” He helps me place it on my right hand and gives the ring a quick kiss. “When the war is over, I’ll buy another ring.” The apples of his cheeks liven with color.
There’s something inexplicable in his tone, a taste of something forthcoming, something as true as a promise.
“One more thing.” There’s a mischievous look in his eyes. He pulls a key from his pocket and dangles it in front of me. “Your new car. Whenever you’re ready.” He places it gently in my hand.
Brielle comes in like a hurricane. “Get out here! I’m taking pictures and I want you in them.”
Logan nods and ticks his head out the door. His eyes glitter when he does it and I know if I stay one more minute I’m going to fall apart.
I follow Brielle out into the boisterous crowd. Most everyone is bowling and there’s a ton of food set out on a long table, buffet style.
I’m pretty sure this isn’t the venue in which I want to confront Brielle about being one of Chloe’s plants. It’s so hard to believe Brielle isn’t genuine. A part of me never wants to ask.
“So, when were you going to tell me?” I shout up over the music that just kicked in through the speakers. I mean about the baby, but I’m curious to see what comes out of her mouth.
“Tell you?” Brielle gives a blank expression before rolling her eyes back into her skull. “You found it?”
“Mia found it. She thinks it’s mine.”
“Ha!” She shags out her hair like it’s no big deal. “We’ll discuss later, right now lets get some pictures of you with people.”
“Me first.” Marshall appears. He walks me briskly toward an empty corner.
We smile back at Brielle just before Drake yanks her away.
“So she tell you?” He creases his brows with disappointment.
“You know?” I gasp.
Marshall nods looking forlorn.
“About the baby?”
“Yes, about the baby,” he whispers baby until it’s almost inaudible. “The faculty is going to frown upon this.”
“Faculty?”
“I’ll lose some of the prestige I’ve managed to acquire the short time I’ve been here.” He shrugs. “I’ve seen this kind of thing throughout the ages. It has its way of working itself out.”
“Are we talking about Brielle and you?” I’m slightly amused.
“Who’d you think we were talking about?”
Michelle lets out an irksome cackle with the bitch squad. They’re all in uniform. I bet they’re here for Gage or because Ms. Richards has a way of turning non school functions into extracurricular activities.
“No—not, Shelly.” His head ticks back a notch.
“Shelly? We’ve advanced to pet names have we?” So, Michelle isn’t pregnant. It was Brielle all along.
“It’s hardly a pet name.” His
tongue presses into the side of his cheek.
“I killed Chloe.” It stammers out of me. It was begging to dive off the cliff of my tongue and I let it.
“And where’s the dagger?”
My fingers fly up to my mouth.
“That’s right you left it in her back. It was returned to me by Ezrina. Do refrain from your kleptomania the next time you visit.” He leans against the railing looking rather bored with the entire scene.
“So…” I spot Brielle walking over to Drake and my family at one of the lanes adjacent to us. “Did you get me a present?” I bat my lashes up at him.
“In part. I’m about to give you the rest.” He nods over to my family.
“Oh, it’s the vision you showed me,” I say, feeling light about the whole thing. I changed what I needed to, so I don’t feel an overwhelming urge to run over and stop Tad from catching Mia and Melissa as they table dive into his arms. Although, if I were to do it, I’m sure Tad would have me locked up on assault charges.
The music stops and the lights flicker.
“Cake!” Gage shouts from the kitchen.
“Ready for your gift?” Marshall whispers.
“Always.” It’s probably another hot dress, or a…
Marshall picks up my hand and presses a soft kiss against the back before cradling it in both of his. My entire person ignites in the bliss that only Marshall can give. It’s the perfect gift, a gift anyone on the planet wishes they could have twenty-four hour access to. Marshall is lucky he hasn’t been kidnapped by street gangs, or….
I look over at my family. Brielle and Drake, my mother, Tad…Mia and Melissa—they’re blue. Blue—the entire lot of them.
“Counts are blue,” I say, breathless. I’m confused. Marshall is playing tricks on me. “This can’t be right.”
“It’s right, Skyla.”
Gage comes out of the kitchen carrying an enormous birthday cake with both our names encircled in a heart—no doubt my mother’s doing. I hold my breath at the thought of who my mother might actually be.
Gage runs his finger down one side of the frosting and slips his finger into his mouth. Logan comes out of the kitchen and heads toward the cake carrying a long handled knife.
Celestra: Books 1-2 Page 60