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The Serpentine Butterfly

Page 69

by Addison Moore


  All of Ahava seems to ignite with a thunderous applause. Dr. Booth gives me a big thumbs-up as Logan helps me down from the chair.

  “Thank you.” My breath sweeps over his face with victory. “And, as your newly reinstated leader, I revoke your status as a traitor. You, my love, are going to lead right by my side.”

  “Thank you. This is going to work.” Logan pulls me into a congratulatory embrace.

  “It has to.”

  Fate on a Platter

  GAGE

  There have been seasons in my life that I’ve been exhausted to the point of feeling drugged, feeling run over by a truck or falling-from-a-cliff-tired, but never have I experienced a fatigue quite like I have since the twins have arrived. How in the hell society has ever evolved to include more people stumps me—on second thought, a fresh crop of unassuming parents is truly what keeps the planet spinning. Nature relies on our ignorance, our inability to believe our elders, our friends when they warn us of the dangers of having children. Not that Skyla and I set out to defy anybody’s logic and have kids—it just happened. And, now, seeing how in love we are with them, it sways the needle from mistake to the best surprise destiny has had in store for us since the day we met.

  With Skyla at the faction meeting, it’s my first night on daddy duty. Lizbeth felt sorry for me at one point in the evening—about five minutes after Skyla left—and asked, correction, demanded to keep the twins in her room for the night. An entire night. I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow. Every muscle in my body drinks down sleep, thirsty and savage.

  A sharp cry comes from somewhere in the room, and I sit up, slightly nauseous from the sudden movement, and squint at the light emanating from the closet.

  “Who’s there?”

  “It’s just me,” Skyla whispers, her voice wailing in disappointment.

  “Are you okay? Did you fall?”

  “No, I ate an entire bovine thanks to that stupid Burger Shack, and now I have to live with the bloated consequences.” She steps into the room, taking off her top. Her bare legs glide forward, providing me with enough evidence that she’s not wearing any bottoms. “I wanted to surprise you and put on my old West uniform, and I couldn’t even get it past my knees. That means my legs are fat, Gage!” she shouts it in my face like it’s all my fault. “You know that old saying, ‘you are what you eat’? I’ve literally morphed into a cow.”

  A dull laugh pumps through me. “Come here, beautiful.” I pull her over me. Her cool limbs touch mine, and my hard-on springs to life. I hope she’s open to offering some serious alleviation because I am in desperate need. “You look perfect to me. And if it’s any consolation, I like you better naked.” I give her thigh a gentle pat. “I was hoping you’d wake me by sitting on my face.”

  “You have a dirty mind, and a dirty mouth.” She sits high up on my bare chest as if readying to take me up on the suggestion. Just feeling her there, her wetness kissing my flesh makes me harder than I’ve ever been in my life. “Were the boys good?”

  “They were great. Your mother insisted on taking care of them until morning. They’re in her room.” I trace along her thigh with my finger. “That means we get the night off.”

  “Her room, huh? If I hear them cry, my boobs won’t know the difference. I’ll probably spring a leak.”

  I lean back onto the pillow and pull her knees to my ears in one aggressive move. “Make it rain if you have to. I just want one delicious taste of what I’ve been missing.” I pull her close and bow a quick kiss into her wet silk and watch as her eyes close with pleasure. My mouth lands over her sweet spot, shaking with hunger, and every muscle in my body tenses as it silently begs for me to fall into her. Skyla is home—always has been, always will be. A deep guttural moan evicts from my throat as I suck down, lick, French kiss the most delicate part of her body. My mouth devours her tender folds. My tongue runs a line up that new scar she earned while gifting us our boys, and I peck a kiss over it as a thank you. She’s still as honey sweet as I remember. I work her over with my tongue, quickening my pace until she’s panting above me, hard and urgent, as if she might have a cardiac episode if this doesn’t happen for her soon. My teeth graze over that one magical tender spot, and she loses it in record time. Her body shakes out over me, begging to get off the ride, but my hands are buried in her hips, and I refuse to let go until I drink down the very last drop.

  “You’re an animal,” she pants through a smile as she falls onto her back.

  I take off my boxers and land over her on my elbows. The moon kisses her beautiful face, and my stomach pinches with a bite of pain. It all feels as if it’s ending way too soon. Skyla and I have just started our family and already I’m forced to tear us in half, make choices I will never be ready to make. That bionic shield that protects my thoughts from her ability to read them erects itself as if on cue. I don’t think I’ll let down my guard again any time soon. The christening will be here before I know it, and I’ll have to give my answer to Demetri, risk one of my children falling prey to his twisted mind—or surrender—save them, save Skyla’s heart from getting wrenched out of her body while it’s still beating. Regardless of my decision, I have to die. That doesn’t change. I should have known that asking Demetri for the one thing I craved—to live alongside Skyla for as long as she’s on this spinning blue rock—would only be granted so long as the end suited his needs. My first covenant with the Barricade was simply his way of getting my feet wet for things to come. He knew I wouldn’t last—that I couldn’t. Breaking faith was inevitable in that sense. Demetri has played me brilliantly, and now I am staring down the barrel of a celestially loaded gun. Ironically, this piece of shit news doesn’t hasten my death by a single second. In that alone I find comfort. A part of me wants to believe that Skyla and I could raise Nathan and Barron to do the right thing, make the right choices, but how can I ever risk it? If Demetri took them for himself, I could never forgive myself, not on Earth, not in heaven. No. If any one of us is bound to become an enemy to the Nephilim people, it’s going to be me, not one of my boys—never them.

  I pull a condom from the nightstand, and Skyla sheds a mile-wide smile.

  “How did your meeting go?” I ask as I tear open the package with my teeth.

  She laughs. “Is that what our passion has been replaced with? Updates on diaper duty and faction meetings in the middle of lovemaking?”

  “Sorry.” I wince.

  “I love it.” She runs her fingers through my hair. “And I especially love that you and I are on this crazy train together.”

  “You know what else we’re going to do together?” I roll on the condom and navigate my way to the entry of her body. “Are you ready for me?”

  She lets out a tiny grunt, biting down on her lip nervously as if suggesting she’s not.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Skyla braces herself against my arms, wincing in anticipation of the pain. My heart aches for her. Her body has been subjected to poking, prodding, and unimaginable agony for close to a year, and now, even this act of love will bring her more of the same. It seems vindictive the way the female body was designed, unfair. I’m betting Candace had a hand in that.

  “I love you, Skyla Oliver.” I land a kiss over her mouth, evicting all thoughts of her mother out of my mind. “I’m so proud to be your husband. You astound me with what you can do with both your body and your mind.” I push in carefully, and she takes a quick breath. “Guide me,” I whisper.

  Skyla carefully navigates me inside her, achingly slow. We’re both on pins and needles until I’m in deep, filling her without another inch to move.

  “You okay?” My lids hang heavy, drugged with the ecstasy of being deep inside her once again.

  “I’m okay,” she pants into my ear. “We did it. We’re Skyla and Gage again.”

  “Plus two.” My mouth falls over hers.

  The babies begin in on a faint wail just as I begin to thrust, but it’s too late. I can’t stop. I couldn’t if they we
re right here in the room with us. I need Skyla. I need to have this moment with my wife. It’s been far too long, and far too much has happened in both of our lives. I’m craving her in the worst way.

  The babies quiet down, and Skyla’s body relaxes beneath me once gain. I thrust into her with ease and care, my zenith coming all too quickly as I grab onto her with a monstrous grip. I come for weeks, in gallons, lost in the pulsating heartbeat of our love.

  A dark laugh echoes through my chest as I kiss her just under the ear. “Looks like you weren’t the only one feeling like a virgin. That was short and sweet. Sorry.”

  I lie over her, and a gush of warmth covers my chest as her milk lets down.

  “Oh, geez.” She slaps the mattress, getting up on her elbows. “It looks like I’m the one that owes you an apology. I’m a mess.”

  I lean in and lick her chest as if I’m about to lap it up. “You’re a convenient mess. I was getting thirsty.”

  “Stop!”

  We share a quiet laugh as I roll over and pull her to me. “We should probably shower.”

  “And then pass out.”

  “How was the meeting? You never did say.”

  “They’re in, Gage.” She locks eyes with mine, her chest squirting at me intermittently, and that impenetrable brick wall goes up around my thoughts without trying. “We’ve got them on our side. It’s happening. The Barricade will never prosper.” She sniffs. “I’ll die before I let it.”

  Skyla folds into my arms, and we lie there, each lost in our own thoughts.

  Skyla would rather die than let the enemy prosper. And I feel the same. The irony is I’ll die, and then I’ll become her enemy.

  I’ll make a lousy enemy.

  Perhaps that makes me the very best one.

  * * *

  A week trickles by as the christening inches ever so close. My feet sludge into the future like a dying man walking to the electric chair.

  Wesley does his nightly pick up and delivers me to the Transfer. It’s been our routine before he takes me to the dark side of Paragon—Paragon in Nocturne, but I can’t bring myself to call it that—that’s where we traditionally meet with the Videns.

  Chloe sits at the edge of her seat once we enter his haunted abode. Wes has told me that she spends the entire day primping for my nightly visits, ignoring any pressing needs baby Tobie might have. Ezrina has been a saint in taking care of that child—and she’s also been a spy. Wesley is well aware of both.

  “So, what have you decided?” Chloe offers me a cauldron with a bubbling brew, and I decline—probably some underworld version of a roofie.

  “I haven’t.” I look to Wes as he takes a seat by the fire. He wants to know if I’m in. If I’ve decided to remain on Earth after my demise and spend the rest of Skyla’s life tormenting her. “If I do this, how will it work?” I need the fine print. That’s one lesson I don’t need to learn twice.

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  I’d like to think that Wes and I have developed a friendship over the past few months. Lately, especially since we’ve become fathers, we’ve been shooting from the hip with one another. The walls that have been up from the moment we met have finally crumbled to dust, and I can say with certainty that I have a brother in him—a twisted brother, but nevertheless.

  “I don’t know shit.”

  “You know the rules,” Chloe points out. I’d ask her to leave, but she’s like a gnat, so there’s no point.

  “Okay.” Wes leans over his knees as if assembling his thoughts for a moment. “If that is the direction you decide to go in, you’ll partake in a covenant ritual, which will bind you to this agreement. Then, you simply wait out your time—once you’re deceased, he’ll take charge over you. There’s the issuing of a new body—a rarity, with the exception of a few. The marriage supper of the lamb is the big renewal for everyone else, so you’ll be ahead of the curve in that respect. After your death, you’ll be brought back and expected to perform.”

  “How does anyone think my heart will change course the second I step back on this planet? I love Skyla. I love our people.”

  “Nobody believes that you’ll transform like some robot who’s been freshly programmed—but the stipulation was that the heart of the one you hold dear will turn against you and what you believe. Since you’re taking the brunt of the curse on yourself, you’ll be the one whose heart is turned and all that you once believed. You’ll question your old beliefs. Doubt will set in. And that, my friend, will be the downfall—or in your case—the pathway to the light.” He raises a glass filled with a dark amber liquid before knocking it back in one quick swig.

  “So, it’s like a spell of some kind?”

  “Absolutely not.” Wesley’s eyes enlarge at the audacity of my question. “Shit like that is strictly forbidden.” He plunks down his glass like the sounding of a gavel. “This is a swaying of your heart. Now—here’s the kicker—if you’re strong enough, you can fight it, but it’s like swimming against the current. Eventually, you’ll wear out and give in. You’ll feel relief once you go with the tide.”

  I look from Wes to Chloe and wonder if that’s what happened to them.

  “Skyla will be safe,” I say, still trying to process this madness. “Logan will protect her—but I still want a relationship with her—with the boys.”

  “You’ll get it. Just don’t hold your breath, because things are going to change. I’m suspecting she’ll have a hard time accepting some of the decisions you make.” He looks to the floor, shaking his head. “She might even offer to be yours again just to make you change your mind. She’ll convince herself you’re strong enough to fight this—that she could help you do just that.”

  Something about hearing Wesley’s thoughts about my wife—about my life with Skyla, makes me shake with anger so I change the subject.

  “I heard about what happened with Laken.” I take in a breath because I’m at the root of the blame. “Quite frankly, I’m shocked she did it.” It’s true. My heart broke for both her and Coop—especially when I know that it was my big mouth that started her in that direction.

  Chloe chirps a laugh. “Desperation breeds all sorts of misdeeds. I can’t wait to see how Skyla is going to handle this. I suppose she’ll be offering to sleep with both you and Wes just to keep your head in the Celestra game. Little lucky slut.” She takes a swig of her drink, and a plume of smoke trails her goblet.

  “Chloe, would you leave?” I ask as calm and kind as possible. “You’re really starting to piss me off.” So much for being kind. “I’ve got a life and a wife who I love, and, if you haven’t noticed, I’m in a shit situation. I’m trying to evaluate this from all angles, and I need to make a clearheaded decision.”

  “Really?” She looks less than amused. “What does Little Miss Priss make of all this?”

  “She doesn’t know. I’m asking you as a friend not to tell her.” Shit. Can I really blame my lack of sleep on that little verbal blunder? I probably can.

  “Oh, wow!” Her mouth falls open. “Skyla is going to freak! I fucking love this.”

  “You know what I’d fucking love? Some privacy.”

  “You won’t get the privacy, but I promise not to tell.”

  “Don’t get too excited, Chloe. I’m telling Skyla myself as soon as I make a decision.”

  “Oh, dear, dear, sweet, Gage.” A ripe look of pity crosses her face. “You and I both know you’re too nice of a guy to think there’s a decision to be made.”

  I swallow down the lump building in my throat. Chloe is right.

  There never was a decision to be made.

  This is bound to happen.

  Skyla officially has a new enemy—and it’s me.

  Show of Prowess

  LOGAN

  Three days until the christening means that Gage has three days to swallow that shit sandwich Demetri is shoving down his throat.

  “This is happening,” he says matter-of-factly as we sit in the back of the bowling alley wh
ile a group of middle school teenagers scream a riot with each strike and spare.

  “I’m sorry to hear it. But, if Wes is right, you can fight this. You can still be a valuable ally for Skyla and the Nephilim people. You’ll have a new body—indestructible. No one said you need to leave Skyla. You can have it all. You can beat them at their own game.”

  “She won’t be my wife.” He takes a dejected swig of his drink. “According to Wes, I’ll give into the darkness, and she’ll eventually grow to hate me.”

  “Not true. Skyla can never hate you. In fact, I’ve thought about it. You don’t need a marriage covenant to be with her. Remain as her husband—keep your family intact. The human world doesn’t need to know the dirty details.”

  “That I’ll be clinically dead?”

  “You’ll be alive. Gage, you’re one of the few who will ricochet right past the most painful part of existence. You can have Skyla in your heart, your home, and your bed.”

  “I don’t think it’d go down like that.” He touches his fist to his chin. “It is a nice thought to hold on to.”

  “Think about it. You’ll outsmart Demetri. Beat him at his own game. Your sons remain pure, and you keep your life, the former and future, forever together with the woman you love by your side.”

 

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