“It makes sense.” I’m not floored by this, but it is shocking. “He was the only one willing to save you. Who doesn’t appreciate someone who saves their ass?” And that’s how Demetri has managed to get so much mileage out of Gage as of late. “He nearly killed you to get in your good graces.” Piece of shit.
“God.” Gage wipes his hand over his forehead. “So, how does it make you feel to have your name carried on through my son, even if it is a middle name?” He presses out a sad smile until it bleeds genuine.
“Are you changing the subject?” I frown. “I’m touched—honored to have my name in any way associated with your child. But if Demetri stopped you from helping Skyla in her time of need, missing out on Nathan’s birth—if he’s the one that broke your back, don’t you want to find him and pummel him?”
Gage takes one heavy breath after another. His temples break out in a sweat the way he does when he gets excessively stressed, and, at that, it hardly ever happens.
“There’s something else going on.” He swallows hard as if pushing through some tough emotions. “Last night when I held Barron for the first time, I had a vision—a playback of a scene that I lived not too long ago. It was Wes telling me that if I broke faith with the Barricade, the heart of one I hold dear will turn against me and everything I think I stand for.” His eyes knife into mine. “Logan, both you and I know that I broke faith with the Barricade.”
I open my mouth to refute Wesley’s lunacy, then remember who their DNA is tied to—not to mention the double package that arrived last night.
“Shit,” I whisper without meaning to. “You think it’s—” I struggle to say what comes next.
“I don’t know.” His fingers rake through his hair with marked aggression. “I”—he chokes on his words—“I love those boys so damn much I can’t bear that I might have fucked things up for them before they ever had a chance in this world.” Gage fights the tears as his cheek twitches and pulls. “Just—no matter what happens to me—keep an extra eye out on my boys.”
“Hey.” I pull him in by the shoulders. “It was a long night. This entire experience is a little mind-bending. You’re just stressed. Nothing is going to happen to you. Understand? Skyla and I both are fighting”—I dig my fingers into his rocked-out deltoids—“we are fighting hard to make sure your feet stand on solid ground for the next eight decades. We are gunning for a very long life for you, my friend, so don’t go throwing in the towel just yet.”
Gage blinks hard as if coming to. “You’re right. But I’m more worried about my boys.” He backs up, still trying to get his bearings. “I don’t know—it just threw me. That might have been what he wanted.” His dimples invert. Gage is tired, upset, and overwhelmed with all of his blessings at once. “Demetri is just trying to get under my skin. And as for missing the birth, my money is still on Candace.”
I’d hate to say it, but I’m betting he’s right.
“Talk to Skyla and me. Don’t leave us out of the loop. And for God’s sake, and the sake of those two boys, don’t go doing anything you might deem heroic.”
“Got it.” He gives a light sock to my arm. “You’re pretty good at pep talks, you know that?”
“Yeah, well, you don’t look so convincing. You’re sleep deprived. Drive carefully, and be back soon. You have a small crowd in there that needs you.”
“Will do.” He pulls me in quick and hard. “Thanks for everything, man.”
I wait until he’s on the elevator before ducking back into the room where Skyla radiates her beauty bright as the sun.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Please. I’m far from beautiful.” Skyla makes a face as she struggles to sit up in bed. “Don’t look at me. I look like a witch.”
“You look like an angel.”
“You’re just being literal.”
A dull laugh rumbles through me. “I’m not here to spar with you.” I glance at the twins, who seem to be sleeping soundly. “It looks like my two new favorite nephews are good sleepers.”
“I wish. They fell asleep the second you and Barron walked in as if on cue.” She looks down at her chest where two wet spots sit just above her nipples. “Let’s just say they went to bed hungry. I’m afraid I might not be destined to be a heroic boob slinger like my mother.”
“You’ll get the hang of it.” I fluff the pillow behind her.
A nurse breezes in and strides right over to Skyla. “Everything going well, Mrs. Oliver?” She peers at each of the babies, only partially interested in Skyla’s response. “I’m here to give you a tiny massage.” She pulls Skyla’s covers down and adjusts the gown over her swollen belly.
“Oh God, yes.” Skyla scoots up a little in the bed. “My shoulders have really been—”
The nurse dive-bombs Skyla’s stomach and starts pounding away as if she were kneading dough.
“Holy shit!” Skyla smacks her over the back, but she refuses to relent.
“Now, now, Mrs. Oliver. I need to make sure everything is falling into place.”
Skyla lets out a blood-curdling scream just as I pluck the psychotic woman off her. In truth, I thought she was falling when she dove into Skyla’s stomach.
“All done.” Nurse Ratchet smiles at Skyla as if she actually did her a favor and leaves.
“Dear God.” Skyla reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Thank you for helping me. Sorry you had to witness that little bit of medical misery.”
“I’m sorry you had to live through the medical misery. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s their job to make sure I scream and bleed.” She tosses up a hand as if she’s resigned to this new brand of torture. “Thankfully, the boys slept through it.”
The boys. I can’t help but smile. I love the sound of those words. There are now two miniature versions of Gage ready to run around this planet—literally. It couldn’t please me more. I glance over at their matching caps of thick, black hair, and it warms me to imagine them as full-grown men, the exact representation of their father.
“Why don’t you get some shut-eye? I’ll hold down the fort,” I offer.
“What if they get hungry?” Her face fills with worry for her tiny brood, and it makes me smile to see her this way. I always knew that Skyla would make a great mother.
“I’ve got nipples, too, you know,” I tease. “I’ve got to use them sometime.”
Her lids lower with mild disgust at my stab at humor. “It won’t be very productive.”
“No, but it’ll be entertaining as hell. Get some sleep. I’m getting cranky just watching you try to keep your lids open.”
She settles into her pillow and turns slightly to face me fully.
“I want to talk about things,” she says it quiet. “The things we’ve done. The haunted places we’ve dared to go again.”
The tunnels.
I give a slight nod. “We’re in control this time, Skyla. We’re protecting our people the best we can. The Faction Council couldn’t argue with that.”
“The Faction Council means nothing,” she spits it out so fast I try to catch the words as they fly by. “It’s simply a means of control. The fact I was the overseer made me nothing more than my mother’s favorite puppet. I was her pet, to be put in my place. Well, no more. This is a new day, a new way. Hopefully, we’ll create something that actually benefits our people. This was never about the Nephilim. This was about dominion from the beginning. We’re rewriting all the rules—you and me, Logan.” She bows her head and closes her eyes a moment. Skyla is pensive, sad, her shoulders heavy with the best interest of the Nephilim—of her new sons. “The war was God’s,” she whispers. “You and I are vessels of the house of the Master.” Her entire body sags into a sigh. “Logan.” Her fingers extend toward mine. “Did Gage say anything to you that I should know about?”
And now I know her hand in mine is more than simply a friendly gesture. It’s a listening device.
“I need to know the truth,” she whispers.
/> I pull my hand free, and that says it all.
“He would lay down his life for these little boys.” She bites down on a painful smile. “I think he should fight twice as hard to keep it.”
I offer all I can think to say. “He’s a smart boy.” Most of the time.
My gaze drifts to those sleeping little angels. Gage charged me with shepherding his boys, Barron in particular.
Skyla reaches out and takes me by the hand again. “With the twins here, Demetri officially has dominion.” It’s as if she can feel the window of Gage’s life closing on her.
“What are you thinking?” I put up an iron shield over my innermost thoughts—not an easy feat. Gage, on the other hand, is an expert at it.
Thick glassy shards glitter in her eyes as she fights the tears. “I’m afraid maybe he’s done with him.”
Maybe he’s done with him.
I was thinking the very same thing.
13
The Sickle Rises
SKYLA
In the still of a perfectly tranquil and gray Paragon afternoon, Gage drives the babies and me home in my mother’s minivan with her in the passenger’s seat and me nestled between two plastic bins that house the most precious beings in the world, my sons. Demetri was the one who purchased the car seats for us—one for each of our cars, but I suspect he knew of the twins all along. Gage and I looked up the car seats online and were shocked to see they were not only by far the most expensive, but that they were practically approved by NASA to take part in a space mission if need be. I almost wanted to laugh. We all know I could be hauling these boys around in a wicker basket and not a hair on their heads would be harmed. I’m sure Demetri has an entire infantry of Fems watching, protecting, monitoring his grandchildren, or more to the point, his dominion insurance. In that respect, I feel a sense of relief. For so long, I felt hunted as a Celestra. At least my children won’t have to go through that—at least not by the enemy. They already have all of wickedness on their side. Not really something I’m proud of, but it takes a burden off my heart, heavy as this wicked world.
We pull up to the Landon house, and Mom begins clapping up a storm and singing, “Happy homecoming to you!” to the tune of “Happy Birthday.”
“Check it out.” Gage points to a huge blue banner above the door that reads Welcome Home, Nathan and Barron!
Mia and Melissa race down to the minivan with all the enthusiasm of trying to escape a poltergeist.
“They’re here! They’re here!” Mia cries as her giant pit bull-mastiff mix lumbers on her heels. “Down, D-O-G!”
Melissa swats at him as he tries to jump into the van and see what all the excitement is. “God, he’s going to eat them!”
“He’s not going to eat them,” I whisper, secretly hoping I didn’t just make up that entire Fem secret security theory just so I could feel better about a very dark and dismal future. On second thought, I’d better be vigilant in the event my own lackadaisical behavior is what ultimately harms my boys.
Both Gage and Mom grab a car seat and carefully tread toward the house.
“Wait here, Skyla. I’ll be right back to help you,” Gage instructs just as Brielle and Drake appear from the back of the property.
“You’re home!” Bree screams, practically knocking me over with a diving hug. “It feels like you were gone forever!”
“Nope, just one day. In fact, it’s still Gage’s birthday. Hey! Would you mind picking up a little cake for him? Double chocolate if you can?” I scoot out of the car and try to navigate my own way up to the house.
“Not a problem. Chloe and Pierce have this Dobash that’s to die for. It’s chocolate chiffon filled with a chocolate pudding. I’ll order a couple of sheets.”
“Bree.” I pause halfway up the porch. “A tiny eight-inch round is plenty, trust me. We’re not that big on dessert.” Which is a total bald-faced lie, but since I woke up just as big and round as I did yesterday, I’m pretty sure dessert should be low on my nutritional priority list. Besides, I have absolutely zero willpower, and I’d eat every single sheet of double chocolate goodness Brielle can get her hands on. Plus, Nev and Ezrina made it? I would so be dust.
“You can’t stop me from spoiling the birthday boy!”
Oh hell, what’s another ten pounds?
By the time we get into the house, she’s already on the horn with Ezrina and Nev.
“I’ll go pick them up, and be back in a sec. Drake!” she belts so loud I brace myself for the trembling cry of the boys, but nary a whimper is heard. So far they’ve been very good. If they keep this up, this mothering thing will be a breeze.
Emily and Nat are hanging out in the family room when I finally arrive and plop myself onto the couch.
“I think that’s all the stairs I can manage for now.” I smile at Gage as he arranges the car seats in front of the sofa.
“Skyla!” He twists into me, worried that I might have risked life and limb just to get here, and judging by how my body feels, I might have.
“I’m fine.” Only a tiny lie. This fishnet underwear the nurse helped stuff me into, in lieu of real panties, has about three maxi pads lining it that I’m sure are all soaked by now. The walk from the car felt more like a hike up the Matterhorn.
The babies squirm in their sleep, still tucked safely in their seats by the sofa.
“What do you want to do with them?” Gage wraps an arm around my shoulders as if trying to cheer me up for no reason. Come to think of it, I do feel like I’m about to cry. Everything has changed, our worlds forever altered. I feel strange. I can’t quite put my finger on how or why, and to make matters worse, a horrible fear shakes me right down to my bones. Damn hormones.
Nat belts out an explosive laugh. “They’re not socks, Gage. You can’t put them away. Get a couple of bassinets and bring them down here, or hand one to Skyla and she can start nursing. My sister has six kids, going on seven. She says the first five are a breeze.”
Nice. I don’t even know what to say to that.
Mom clucks her tongue. “I’ve got two bassinets in the living room. I’ll wheel them right over. Gage, you make sure Skyla has plenty to drink. We need to keep her hydrated, and her nipples in tip-top condition!”
A curtain of newspaper comes down at the dining room table, revealing a bedraggled-looking Tad. “If you’re going to be nippling all over the place, maybe you should take this cantaloupe roadshow upstairs? Isn’t this what I built you a soundproof room for? Feel free to nipple all you want behind closed doors. But as far as the rest of us are concerned, this is a nipple-free zone.”
Em rolls her eyes. “She can cover up or not. We all have tits. And it’s not like we didn’t already see yours, Skyla.”
I’m perplexed by Em on many levels—one, she just said tits in the family room and took the general discomfort up a notch, and two, when did she see the ones that belong to me?
“It was during cheer, Messenger,” she grouses. “I wasn’t spying on you. I’m not a freak,” Em manages to say the words without an ounce of affect, and it only begs to differ.
“No one said you were a freak, Em. Besides, I saw every last bit and piece of you when you had Ember, so we’ll call it even.”
Nat sighs, “You didn’t see every last bit and piece of what I have to offer.” Her gaze drifts out the window. “But, since Pierce wants nothing to do with me, I suppose I won’t be having kids anytime soon.”
“What happened with that football player from Host?” Gage asks, setting down a glass of water for me.
God, I can’t even deal with the fact she’s still hung up on that long-dead Kragger. It must be really hard to see Nev running around in his body and not to have gotten the memo. I think it’s time someone delivers that little bit of news, and it should probably be me. An idea goes off in my brain, bright as a haunted light bulb, and I make a mental note for later.
“Derek the linebacker?” Nat scoffs. “He’s dead to me.”
I hate to burst her bubble, bu
t so is Pierce.
Gage takes off to help Mom as they wheel in two small rectangular cribs from the other room.
“Here, let me help,” Mia says, unbuckling Nathan from his car seat and carefully handing him to me. He squirms and grunts, his face turning a bright orange in the adorable process. “Babies should be held, not shoved into boxes.” She picks up Barron and takes a seat beside me.
I plant a kiss on Nathan’s soft as velvet forehead and pause a moment to take in his sweet baby scent. He smells like a fresh L.A. springtime, like a sea breeze off a warm beach—off Rockaway. He blinks up at me with those serious eyes, and, swear to God, he’s gazing right at me.
“We have company!” Mom’s voice hits a soprano, and Nathan’s poor body bucks as he beats his fists in the air.
Mia places Barron in my other arm. “I think he wants his mom. He smells like a Landon.”
“Hey,” Melissa snaps. “You’re a Landon!”
“Yeah, but my body still smells like a Messenger.”
“You said it, not me,” I whisper, and Mia gives a full wicked grin.
Marshall appears with a bouquet of white roses, and both Em and Nat swoon in a chorus of “Hello, Mr. Dudley!”
When Marshall first came to the island, he gave the entire female population a lady-boner. And then, in return, he boned half the female population. He was our very own resident playboy until I put the kibosh on that good time. Actually, he volunteered to stop sleeping around in my vagina’s honor. I’ll admit, it pleases me on some level that he’s no longer casting his penile net far and wide, catching skanks of every variety. Marshall is an equal opportunity “penilizer.” I give a dry chuckle at my own ridiculousness.
“Ms. Messenger?” Marshall leans in. “You look a bit sleep deprived. Perhaps I should go.”
The Serpentine Butterfly Page 61