The Serpentine Butterfly

by Addison Moore

  “It doesn’t work like that.”

  They banter back and forth as I spin into Gage. Emily’s visions haven’t exactly been that great for me in the past. In fact, they’ve been sort of scary in a this-is-your-freaky-ass-future kind of way.

  Before I can open my mouth to say something to the father of my child, Marshall flits through my mind for no reason.

  Mom and Tad barrel into the room.

  “Cripes almighty! It’s a job, Lizbeth, not a death sentence!” Tad locks his elbows and balls his fists, looking every bit the cartoon version of himself.

  “Well, I don’t like you gone so often!” she wails back. “You’re my man—not that blonde, big boobied hussy’s!”

  I giggle a little because Mom just said “boobied.” Her life sort of revolves around the “girls” so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to me that she’s developed an entire vocabulary for them. And besides, I’m completely on her side. I can’t stand Tad’s so-called assistant, Isis, Demetri’s demented “big boobied” niece. She’s a blow-up doll, inflated with nothing but wickedness. Come to think of it, I’m betting a blow-up doll was the prototype Demetri used when creating that vapid vixen.

  “What do you want me to do?” he bellows. “Quit? Who’s going to feed all these mouths, Lizbeth? I’ve got to keep on trucking.”

  “Not when trucking means spending the night on the mainland with a blonde, big boobied hussy! It’s your choice, Tad Landon! But don’t forget. I’m packing, too!” Her blouse flies open, and she flashes him for a lightning quick moment—thankfully with her back turned to the crowded room.

  Gah! Perhaps she should have chosen another weapon from her arsenal. My mother’s boobs shouldn’t be enlisted as lures to keep Tad Landon at home. They’ve been through enough already.

  The room quiets down to nothing as we all wait with bated breath.

  I glance to Gage, and in a moment, he’s by my side, holding me, his hand warming our growing child.

  Why in the hell would my mother give Tad such a harsh ultimatum? Tad has been with Althorpe for as long as we’ve known him. He has no marketable skills. He’s completely useless in this jobless economy. It’s almost as if my mother is setting herself up for splitsville.

  I suck in a sharp breath.

  “Don’t answer that!” I jump over to Tad, waving my hand in his face. “Mom has been under a lot of pressure lately.” I glare over at her briefly with a look that says I’m on to you, saggy boobs and all. “I’m sure given a little time, the two of you could come up with an amicable solution.”

  “I meant every word,” Mom growls from over my shoulder.

  Sheesh! I need to stop this Demetri bound train before we accidentally add another Fem to the family—well, other than the one my body is currently engineering.

  “How about a compromise?” I give a little hop while looking to Gage for help.

  “Yes.” Gage steps in. “Tad, why don’t you bring your work home? Lots of people work from home. I’m sure if you ask your boss, he’ll happily let you spend a few extra hours here rather than the office.”

  Who the hell gave Tad an office?

  “I don’t have an office, Greg,” he barks out the wrong moniker as if it were laden with acid.

  Thought so.

  Tad staggers toward Gage. “And I still don’t have payment for those wise guys I handed off to you at the landing a few months back. You, my gimpy friend, are the reason I have been denied a T-bone dinner!”

  “That’s a great idea!” I clap like a trained seal. “Invite them to dinner. You know, as an apology for handing them off to the wrong person. Gage and I will buy the food and make a wonderful meal. In fact, invite your boss right along with them.” Wait, why would that be a good idea?

  “Arson Kragger will not be a guest in this house. As far as I’m concerned, he’s just as much a dinner thief as this person standing right in front of me,” he rages at Gage. “But”—he walks in a brisk circle—“I like the idea of having the loons I dragged to the island for a night on the Landon town. Maybe if I accidentally leak the fact my idiot boss never made good on his promise, they’ll put in a good word for me.” He points hard at Gage. “You are going to be a man and grill those steaks to perfection.” He pulls his pants up by the belt loops. “Get dressed, Lizbeth. All this talk about steak has made me hungry. We’re headed to Cost Club.”

  “I’ll grab my pocketbook!” Mom sings with glee. She’s become a Cost Club addict, even going as far as eschewing her couponing ways to pony up for a gallon of mayo.

  “No pocketbook needed,” he says as they take off out of the room. “If we leave now, we’ll make it just in time for the sample fare.”

  Gage looks to me with a measure of concern. “Who are these people that are coming to dinner, Skyla?”

  “I don’t know who they are or if they’re people, but I’m for damn sure going to find out.”

  Late in the evening, the moon hangs low over Silent Cove, casting its pale shadow over the water like a splendid, dancing ghost.

  A small crowd has already amassed by the shore as lawn chairs are strewn about. At least half a dozen bonfires illuminate the night as people roast hot dogs and marshmallows while their mouths are filled with laughter.

  Gage and I come upon Logan, and I don’t hesitate to wrap my arms around him. I know he’s still hurting, and my heart aches for him to the point of bleeding.

  “You throw a party and don’t invite your two best friends?” I pull back and give his arm a playful squeeze. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’ve decided to crash.”

  “Crash away.” He gives Gage a light sock to the arm. “You know how it goes. You invite a couple of people—one of them being Brielle—and, before you know it, it’s a class reunion.”

  Gage wraps his arms around me, his hand warming my belly, and Logan’s gaze drifts to it momentarily. His affect falls. The joy he held in his eyes a moment ago dissipates to sadness.

  “I got Dudley in the house.” He shakes his head, hitching his thumb toward the back patio. “He and Ezrina are up to no good. Let me get them out here. I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you.” He jogs back toward White Horse.

  “Why do I feel as if we’ve just been avoided,” I say, twisting into Gage.

  “Normally I’d disagree, but since he’d rather spend time with Dudley, I’m afraid you’re right.”

  “I still can’t believe you’re back.” The words swim from me dreamily as the fog begins to infiltrate the vicinity as if it were an invited guest. The entire island glows a little brighter with Gage back on Paragon soil.

  A sharp howl of a laugh expels from down the beach, and we see the bitch squad with its original fear leader, Chloe.

  “This is going to be a long night,” I sigh just as I spot Bree heading over to Laken. “Oh shit,” I whisper. “Why don’t you go in and talk to Logan? I’ve got a fire of my own to put out.”

  “Come here.” Gage gently pulls my lips to his and offers a kiss that warms me right through the layer of fog sealing over us. “I will be right back.”

  As Gage heads in, I speed over to Bree. God, I pray I’m not too late.

  “Well, look who’s here.” Laken crosses her arms, the look on her face amused and slightly affronted.

  I’m too late.

  Laken is beautiful, with her long golden-washed hair, her pale eyes that glow in the night. She and Cooper are the quintessential perfect couple, and I, for one, cannot wait to see them tie the knot in a few weeks. Plus, she might need all the reinforcements, front and center, to make that happen. I can’t see her demonic ex, Wesley, going down without a dirty fight.

  “I miss anything?” I glare at Bree a moment. Brielle is beautiful, too, with her strawberry-blonde hair, her perennial crooked grin. She’s forever up to no good, which is one of the reasons I adore the living hell out of her.

  “You didn’t miss a thing,” Laken is quick to reply. “But I did— apparently, my entire first trimester.”

&n
bsp; “Crap,” I say it lower than a whisper.

  “The rumors are true, by the way.” She offers an exaggerative shrug. “I just hope poor Coop doesn’t get wind of it before I can properly surprise him.” And now it’s her glaring at Bree. “Do you think you can keep your pie hole shut for about five minutes?” She pokes Bree hard in the chest, and I half expect some hair pulling action to quickly ensue. Laken looks back to me. “You might say this news had startled me as well when I first heard it this afternoon.” Her eyes harden over mine. Apparently, Bree’s good news traveled faster than I thought. “At first, I was very upset, but then I had an epiphany in the shower.”

  “Eww.” Bree glances down at Laken’s crotch for no good reason.

  “An epiphany is not a bodily function,” she says it curt to Bree before turning to me. “I was thinking of Skyla. Why would my best friend…in the whole world”—she drags the words out in an apparent effort to crawl under Brielle’s skin, and judging by the jacked-up look on Bree’s face, mission accomplished—“make up such a terrible lie about me? I mean, an unplanned pregnancy? Unless, of course, it was simply a cover-up for her own unplanned pregnancy.” Her brows rise as she awaits confirmation.

  “Wow, she’s good,” Bree muses. “She totally just busted you.” Bree makes a face. “But I’m still onto your little pregnancy pact. I bet Chloe’s been in on it since the beginning, too. It’s not fair, Skyla. All my best friends are having babies, and nobody thought to clue me in on this little sperm-fest? Well, screw you!” She looks to Laken when she says that last part. I don’t really think Bree would have the balls to say something like that to my face. “And screw you, Skyla Messenger! I thought we were better friends.”

  “Oh, look!” I say, giving Bree a gentle shove toward the bitch squad. “Another expectant mother is here—Chloe! Rumor has it she knows the baby’s gender, and she’s just about to tattle.”

  Brielle gives an excited squeal. “I’m going to find out if I’m going to be an uncle or an aunt!” She takes off running, spraying sand at the two of us, but Laken doesn’t flinch.

  “Really, Skyla? A fake pregnancy?” She shakes her head. “What’s the story? Spill it fast. I need to find Cooper before he busts out the cigars. And does Chloe really know what she’s having?” She cranes her neck in the witch’s general direction, and I block her. Laken might be a little more emotionally vested than necessary in Chloe’s child since it’s technically Wesley’s baby, too. There’s no denying Wesley broke her heart in a roundabout way. They had something special, and he ruined it like he ruins everything. Damn Count—Fem.

  My eyes snag on Gage having a conversation with what looks like himself. Great. Wes is here, too.

  “No—I don’t know or care if Chloe knows what she’s having. Probably a cloven hooved child with horns and a tail.” It comes out small and weak, exactly how I feel for spreading such a nasty rumor about Laken to begin with. “I’m sorry about the rumor.” I latch on to her as I beg for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry. I swear—my hands were tied. It’s me who’s having the baby. And my mother was in the room, and I wanted to surprise everyone, and she was holding a very good doctor’s name hostage and—”

  “Skyla?” She gives my arms a squeeze, her eyes wide and white as flames. “Oh my God! Skyla! Congratulations!” She pulls me in tight with her body hard over mine, and I can feel the genuine joy exuding from her. As much as I love Bree, and I do, I know that with Laken all I’ll get is support—not some strange inkling that I might be trying to start some baby cult behind her back.

  “I’ll help you get through this.” She pulls back, her eyes glistening with tears. “I want to help you with the factions as well. Let me be there for you. Don’t shut me out.”

  I nod through tears. Laken feels like so much more than a friend—more than a sister.

  “Thank you. And I won’t shut you out.”

  “Hey, ladies.” Coop is winded, his eyes large with surprise, and it’s safe to say he’s just a moment away from “busting out the cigars” as Laken put it. Wes jogs up alongside him, and I cringe. Usually in this dim setting, with the Paragon’s papery breath swirling thick between us, I would mistake him for Gage, but the way his eyes are glued to Laken—that perennial look of lust mixed with the eternal agony on his face, there isn’t a doubt that it’s Wesley. Wes and Laken were each other’s first loves. She chose the light, and he chose the darkness. They both swore it was true love. I guess even true love has its boundaries.

  “Coop.” Laken shakes her head, and before another word can fly from her mouth, Wes steps in.

  “Laken, is it true?” He’s panting, his eyes wild with concern. It’s going to kill Wes when this becomes a reality one day. “Are you having Cooper’s baby?”

  You can feel the weight of his grief. His voice is heavy with sadness. If he’s anything like his father, and he is, he’ll pine over Laken for the rest of his days. I’ve seen Demetri pine firsthand for my mother, only my mother rewarded the demon by bearing him a child—Misty. I’m still so unhinged about that I’ve yet to speak with her about it.

  “Wes!” Laken is incredulous. “Is this any of your business?” She softens into him as she wraps her arms around Coop. “I’m marrying this man. I’m taking his name. He will be my family, already is. Cooper and I want at least five children.” Coop doesn’t flinch when she says it, so it must be true. “If it happened in a few months, it wouldn’t really make a difference.” She pulls Coop’s chin toward her and plants one on him.

  Crap. Even I feel sorry for the douche standing here wearing Gage’s drop-dead gorgeous face, albeit with a very wounded expression.

  “Wow, babe. This is truly a blessing.” Coop is brimming. Not sure if he has a clue either way, but he’s always been a good sport.

  Laken’s eyes glint back to her ex. “Say your peace or leave, Wes.” There’s something different about Laken, about the way she’s treating Wesley. Usually, she’s a little more careful, a little more cordial, and I wonder if the real reason she’s riding the coattails of this pregnancy hearsay is to give him a taste of his own in-the-family-way medicine. As much as she loves Coop with her whole heart, it still knifed her to hear Wes was procreating with Chloe.

  Wes lets out a heated breath, a paper dragon with nothing but steam shooting from his nostrils. He’s impotent compared to Gage’s brilliance in just about every single way.

  “I know you love Coop.” He offers an anemic smile at his adversary. “And, please believe me when I say this. If it’s not me that you’re with, I’d rather it be Cooper. We were friends once. I’d like to get there again one day.”

  Tears come so fast I can’t control them.

  “But.” Coop is unmoved by Wesley’s soliloquy, and I let out a little laugh.

  “But”—Wesley’s chest expands with his next breath, his heavy stare returning to Laken—“you’re going to wake up one day and realize that you made a very big mistake. Know this—my arms, my life, my bed will always be open to you.”

  Arrogant much? And to think he almost had all of my sympathy. Teaches me to mourn for a devil. I blame my hormones. I’m completely off balance, crying one moment, laughing the next.

  “Really?” Laken hauls off and slaps him—a nice, loud crackle of a whack—and the crowd around us grows quiet for a few moments before the party atmosphere picks right up again. Laken has the biggest lady balls I have ever seen. I’m taking notes.

  “Don’t insult me,” Laken seethes. “Even if you were to renounce the Countenance, your Fem lineage, we are through. Do not offer me your bed in front of my soon-to-be husband ever again. It’s offensive to him, and it’s offensive to me. The only way Coop and I will ever befriend you is if you step down from the wicked throne you’ve planted yourself on—help us save the Nephilim, not destroy them. That slap was a wake-up call, Wes. Deep down, I would like to believe you’re the same boy I used to know—you’re just lost.”

  “It’s true.” Coop relaxes with Laken in his arms. “I
think you’re lost, too, Wes. You’re dazzled by all the power. You can’t see the forest for the trees. One day you’ll wake up and realize you made a very big mistake. And when you do, Laken and I will both be here for you, as friends. I miss you, man. Come back from this nightmare. It doesn’t have to be this way. This doesn’t have to be your legacy.”

  Wesley swallows hard. His eyes narrow to slits as he soaks in their words.

  “I will never renounce who I am.” His jaw pops. “I can no sooner remove myself from the Barricade, from my lineage, than I can my body. This is the fabric of my being. I am a Count born of a Fem.” He takes a step toward Coop and sticks his finger just shy of Coop’s chest. “I will have no mercy on the Nephilim that have removed themselves from my charge. Those outside the Barricade will fight to get in as soon as they realize what they’re up against. My ranks will grow, and I predict you, my old friend, will be among them.” He looks to Laken. “And you will be mine. The prophets have spoken, Laken. I have no doubts about this.” He stalks off into the night, his form slowly evaporating until he’s faded into the fog like a bad dream.

  “Wow, I feel like I should apologize for him.” I shudder. “You know—since he looks like Gage and all.”

  Laken and Coop are still staring at that black hole Wesley left in his wake.

  “I think I’ll let you guys work things out,” I say, backing away. “Oh, and, Laken, do as you wish with that whole rumor thing.” Who knew she’d get so darn creative with it?

  I take off toward the party and run smack into Marshall and Ezrina having a heated conversation.

  “What’s this?” I’m almost amused. I don’t remember the last time I’ve heard either of them raise their voices.

  “Nothing,” Ezrina hisses, her eyes still fixed hard on Marshall’s. “I’m off to find Heathcliff.” She pulls Marshall in tight by his dress shirt. “Do not visit me again. And you most certainly do not visit Clara. Not all of us want the demons from the past parading around Paragon.” Ezrina stalks off quickly as the fog swallows her down.