The Serpentine Butterfly

by Addison Moore

  “Mrs. Oliver?” Moser sets his rectangular jaw in our direction. “Just the woman we wanted to see. Would you and your friends mind stepping over here so we can chat for a moment?”

  Oh my God. This is it. They’ll buy Ellis with a dime bag, Giselle with oh, look, shiny! And Drake with a handshake. I suppose that makes Bree the wild card. Perfect. All of humanity rests on Brielle’s ability to remain calm and focused. We are so very fucked.

  “Skyla?” Gage’s voice booms over the vicinity, his tenor vibrating through the branches. “Time for cake!”

  “Time for cake!” I jump, buzzing past them. “You’re welcome to join us if you like!” Not. But no thanks to Tad and his ridiculous faux position at Althorpe, they’re a part of the party package.

  I bolt from the woods with Giselle and Bree in tow. Drake stayed behind, mumbling something about “that moaning shit.” God, I had better see Mia, or I am going to freak.

  Mom presents the twins with an enormous white confection, the piping on the borders outlined in baby blue in keeping with the theme.

  “It’s gorgeous,” I say as Gage and I admire her ability to order a sheet cake with the best of them.

  “It’s time for the dedication.” Gage takes hold of my hands, his eyes burrowing deep into mine. There’s a distinct aura of mourning in his gaze, and it throws me for a moment before the pieces fall into place.

  “I get it,” I whisper, with tears just below the surface. Gage is overcome with emotion just thinking about how quickly everything is moving in our children’s lives. “I can’t believe an entire month has gone by either. And I know that in a blink we’ll both be standing at their high school graduation, then college, then they’ll have weddings of their own.” My lips tremble as I hold back the dam that begs to burst. Mom is right. My hormones are still raging like a tempest, still trying to navigate their way through the body morphing that’s currently taking place. I’m still not able to fit into my jeans or my old emotions, but every day I’m one step closer.

  “It’s true.” He can hardly whisper the words.

  “But the one thing that keeps me centered is knowing you’ll be there, right alongside me for all of those milestones. I couldn’t do this without you, Gage. I wouldn’t want to.”

  Mom gathers everyone around while Gage and I each hold a happy cooing child—me with Nathan and he with Barron.

  Marshall says a simple prayer, blessing each of the boys in turn. His voice strums through the night like a poem.

  “That was beautiful,” I whisper.

  “I’m not done.” He places a hand on Nathan’s, then Barron’s forehead. “May the living God bless you both. May He ignite a path of righteousness before you, cast a pall upon your enemies, and may you never want or suffer so long as you both shall fear Him.”

  A round of applause breaks out. A few of the Transfer transplants start in on an odd looking jig, the girls’ opulent dresses shake like rag dolls.

  “I, too, would like to add a blessing!” Demetri’s voice rings out like a demented gong, putting an immediate damper on the joy in my heart. A blessing from Demetri is pretty much tantamount to a curse. “Barron and Nathan”— he begins with that twisted never-ending grin of his—“two boys after my own heart. You’ve already captured it.”

  “That’s because it’s so tiny,” I whisper to Gage, and he chuckles.

  Demetri lays his fleshy mitts over each of the boys just like Marshall did. Only now it doesn’t feel so holy and right. It feels downright creepy. The warm fuzzies are quickly replaced with the need to swat him away and call social services.

  “May you find your true path in life. May the destinies you were designed for prevail and lead you to life everlasting, with power and majesty and glory at your feet. May the world acknowledge you as the royalty you are. May you be delivered from all of your troubles, from those who seek to destroy you. Blessings upon you both in this realm, and the next.”

  A shiver runs up my spine. The fog swirls and dances, flossing over us with a brilliant blue patina.

  The crowd cheers, the voices of thousands thunder like the hooves of an army riding in to capture us. In a way, it feels as if we’ve already been taken prisoner—Gage, the twins, and me. Somehow, deep down inside, I feel as if there is no real escape from Demetri and his realm.

  Gage and I slice into the cake while Melissa and Emily help plate it up and funnel it to the crowd.

  “Where’s Mia?” I ask my far more snarkier, hopefully far more virginal, younger sister.

  “On her knees with Gabe, where do you think?” she snipes.

  “Gabe? You mean Rev, right?” Not that I have a preference, but reputations are built in quantity not quality of lovers.

  “Nope. She’s going for it. She bought glow-in-the-dark condoms and everything.” Melissa sticks a fork down her throat and gags before jabbing into a slice of cake and handing it off to the nearest person aching to quell their sweet tooth.

  “Crap,” I whimper, turning to Gage. “We need to find Mia,” I plead as the twins bob contentedly in our arms. Nathan holds that fresh baby bottom scent I’ve grown to love, and I bury my nose in his hair a moment.

  Gage glances toward the woods. His dark brows hood over his glowing eyes, and my sweet spot quivers for him. This is one time I totally approve of my hormones’ behavior.

  “Let’s take a walk.” He nods for me to follow him into the crowd.

  We scan the vicinity in hopes of spotting Mia, or her male suitors, but there’s no sign of any of them. Most people have taken seats at the rows and rows of tables Mom has dotting the length and breadth of Demetri’s palatial estate. I realize she was just following the demented Fem’s orders when going along with this over-bloated guest list, and to Demetri, this most likely meets the criteria of an intimate gathering.

  “I see her.” Gage leads the way into the woods I came out of not too long ago. Dear God—the moaning woods. I have a feeling the moaning mystery has come to an end.

  “Is she having s-e-x?” I cover poor Nathan’s ear when I say it.

  “Not unless she does it standing—and fully dressed. She’s laughing at something.”

  “Hopefully at Gabe Armistead’s ridiculously tiny member.” A boy’s ego can never recover from something like that. They fear that sizable rejection just as much as girls do showing up to school without any pants on. They’re both very high up as far as reoccurring nightmares are concerned.

  Then I spot her, her fingers entwined in that Armistead head of his, her knee tucked between his legs, riding up and down his body like a carnal promise.

  “Mia!” I bark as she comes into view. “Step away from that asshole right this minute!”

  Gage touches his shoulder to mine. “I’ll give you a pass on that one.”

  “Thank you.” I cringe. I just pray Nathan’s or Barron’s first word is not asshole because, while humorous on some level, they would be housebound until they worked that out of their system. This parenting thing is a lot harder than it looks.

  “Skyla?” Mia looks mildly confused. She’s wearing a long velvet cape, which she stole from my Halloween costume, but it does look strikingly sexy. I’ll have to “borrow” it back sometime.

  Two figures step out of the dark and into a patch of moonlight.

  A breath hitches in my throat when I see who they are. Mia wasn’t touching Gabe. She was hugging her father.

  “Daddy!” I stride over at a quickened clip and wrap my free arm around his waist, sobbing at the sight of him.

  “Skyla, my darling little girl.” He kisses me on the forehead. “How I’ve missed you.” He touches his finger to Nathan’s cheek.

  “This is your namesake.” I carefully hand him Nathan, and Gage does the same with Barron.

  “Barron and Nathan.” My mother steps beside him, her face illuminating unnaturally as if she swallowed a flashlight.

  “Candace,” Gage acknowledges her before I do.

  “You’ve come to terms with the ni
ght?” She flits her eyes over his before pulling me into an embrace.

  “If by ‘come to terms,’ you mean christened the boys, then yes.” It’s a real struggle not to roll my eyes around her sometimes. Although, there is a Marshall-esque charm about her that warms me.

  “Marvelous.” She glances to Mia who takes her place by my side. “You, my dear, are the spitting image of your big sister.” Her lips expand with pride. “Who is, of course, a spitting image of me. It was my pleasure.” She gives a solemn nod as if Mia had thanked her.

  “How is Sage?” I look to my father. He’s so youthful looking tonight. The silver hair he usually wears by his temples isn’t present in this dim light. I miss him. I miss the scar beneath his right eye, the thickness of his skin, his full bottom lip—those eyes like sea glass. My father is a beautiful man both inside and out.

  “Sage is wonderful.” My father beams at the mention of her. “I would have brought her along, but you know how your mother is.” He rolls his eyes, and I laugh.

  Mia ribs me. “Who’s Sage?”

  “Um”—I look to Gage, and he gives a combo of a shrug and nod as if to say he’s fine with letting her know—“the daughter I lost.” My voice breaks. “But she’s with Dad. She’s the treat that waits for me at the end of my life.” A tear slips down my face, leaving a glacial trail, and I shiver.

  “I’m sorry.” Mia wraps her arm around me. “I want you to keep me in the know about things like this. I want to be a part of your life, Skyla, but I can’t be if you don’t let me in. I’m the same age you were when we moved to Paragon, and I used to think you were so mature.” She gives a soft laugh. “I’m ready to be friends now—and sisters forever, of course.” She tightens her embrace. “I want to hear all about Sage when you’re ready to talk about her.”

  “Thank you.” I give her a kiss. “I appreciate that, friend.”

  “Oh!” She jumps as she spots something behind my shoulder. “I gotta go.” She lunges at our father and kisses him on both cheeks. “Don’t be such a stranger!” She turns and waves at my mother. “Catch you later! Thanks for the face!” She laughs as she runs full steam into the woods. “Rev!”

  Rev? Should I be relieved that it’s not Gabe she’s hunting down with her glow-in-the-dark prophylactics? God, I pray Dr. Booth knocked him into tomorrow, and that his dick shrivels at the sight of her.

  I glance back to my father, ready to dish about any and everything, and he’s scowling, downright glaring at Gage.

  “I’d like a moment alone with your husband, Skyla.”

  “What?”

  Candace takes Barron from Gage and hands him to me while scooping up Nathan for herself. “We’ll scoot along.” She snatches me by the arm. “I’ve things to discuss with you, young lady.” Her tone is scolding, and now I’m starting to think both Gage and I are in hot water.

  We move away from the woods and into the clearing that borders the big bash.

  “What was that about?” I ask, struggling to pick up on anything they might be saying.

  “Oh, you know, it’s probably one of those manly heart-to-hearts. Now that Gage is in charge of Nathan’s grandchildren, your father probably wants to outline what’s expected of him.”

  “Doesn’t sound like Dad, but then again, he’s never had grandchildren before.” I rock Barron, and the hair on his head wafts like dark feathers.

  “Put his cap on, Skyla. For goodness’ sake.” She adjusts both boys’ snowsuits until all that’s visible is their tiny faces, those piercing blue eyes that threaten to keep their father’s cobalt coloring—and I sincerely hope they do—those dimples that go off every now and again indiscriminately. “You lose most of your body heat through your head. These poor boys will have pneumonia before New Years if you keep this up. Whose brilliant idea was it to have a night affair in the middle of winter? Don’t answer that. I already know it was your ditz of a stepmother.”

  “No name calling.” Although, I may agree on a few points.

  “Please, she has a child harvested from Demetri. She’s a dolt through and through.”

  “And I’m married to his son. What does that make me?”

  She grunts, waving off my idiocy with her hand. “You not only married him, you bore him dominion.” Her brows rise as if I’ve one-upped my doltish stepmother.

  “They are children, not a place.”

  “Same difference where their lineage is concerned.” Her brows furrow as she looks to the two of them. “Do you remember that curse you bestowed upon me?”

  “On accident,” I clarify. “How can I forget? It’s the reason my daughter is in paradise denied her rightful life on Earth.” Actually, I don’t fully believe that. I believe that somehow I played into her destiny-wielding hands, and that Sage was meant to live in paradise from the get-go. If I choose to place the blame of her death on my shoulders, I won’t be able to breathe. “What about it?”

  Her hand falls to my cheek as her touch enlivens me with a joy unspeakable. Those vibratory powers Marshall has—the same ones that Gage acquired for the term of my pregnancy—my mother trumps them all. They say there is nothing like a mother’s touch, and, in my case, it is most definitely true.

  “The curse is about to be lifted.” Her face wrinkles with grief. “But, now that it will be gone, an echo of its biting sting will resonate with you for the rest of your life.” She nods as if I must accept this.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “Sage is gone, and that pain will never leave me.” It’s true. It won’t.

  Her eyes narrow with sorrow once again as if I haven’t understood at all.

  “The time has come for a benediction.” She smiles sweetly at Barron before looking to me. “Skyla Messenger, born under the fifth seal, I charge you with the task of supervising these human-angelic beings to the best of your abilities. May you meet their needs, and surpass their desires in all that they long for in keeping with the Holy Order.” Her eyes narrow in on mine. “May you take what is rightfully yours without hesitation within the angelic realm and protect your people in any manner that you see fit regardless of heavenly jurisdiction and bylaws.” She gives a curt nod as though this shouldn’t be spoken of again. “And lastly, may you topple the wicked one you are legally bound to in holy matrimony. In due time, may you put an end to his splendor and cast his throne down to the ground.”

  My stomach cinches at her caustic words. Gage is far from wicked. I’d start a war of words with her, but she’s holding my child, and I don’t feel like jumping in a celestial fire at the moment. But her words bite around the edges of my sanity, threatening to take down my sleep-deprived mind. What throne? Should I be bothered by the fact Gage is leading the Videns? Everyone knows Wes is really running the wicked show. Perhaps she has them confused.

  “It seems I’ve left your gift in Ahava. Why don’t Nathan and I retrieve it? We’ll be back soon enough. Tend to your guests, Skyla. Come, Nathan, let us check on young Sage a moment,” she calls to my father, and we offer our temporary goodbyes.

  The kiss he lands on my cheek feels like heaven personified. He leans into my ear and whispers, “Tell Logan we need to speak as soon as I get back. It’s urgent. Don’t say a word to anyone else.” He pulls away, the worry in his eyes quickly replaced with joy as if he were putting on a show on some level. “And thank you from the bottom of my heart for gifting me the honor of being a part of your lives again.” He kisses his namesake. “These boys are destined for great things.” He lands an equally saccharin kiss to Barron before he and my mother scoot into the woods. The blue fog finds them and wraps them like a cloak. A shower of sparks goes off around them as my parents dissipate in a show of glory. My mother never was one for subtlety.

  “I love you both!” I shout and mean it. “Don’t be long!”

  Gage and I huddle together as they dissipate from the woods—from the earthly realm altogether.

  A breath gets lodged in my throat as a couple stands just beyond where my father and mother dissolved into thi
n air, a tall, lanky man with a lantern jaw and his redheaded accomplice.

  “Shit!” I hiss. Gage and I pivot on our heels and dive into the crowd, threading our way into the thick of things. “They saw everything.”

  “It was dark,” he tries to reassure.

  Demetri heads over with Wes, and I wish I had the power to make them disappear.

  “You look great, Skyla.” Wesley offers a partial embrace.

  “Where’s Tobie?” I spot useless Bishop cackling away with Michelle and Lexy, no baby in sight.

  “With Ezrina.” He rubs my arm a moment. “You really do look good. The boys are amazing.” He gives them each a loving glance. “Where’s Logan?” He looks to Gage.

  Odd. Logan seems to be the man of the hour. I’m dying to know what my father wants to tell him—and now Wes?

  “Right here.” Logan pops up, the warm scent of his cologne washes over me like an old friend.

  Demetri nods. “If you boys have a moment, I’d love to show you something in the trophy room.”

  I shudder just thinking of the demented rows and rows of taxidermy Fems on display. There’s no way in hell I want anything to do with this.

  Marshall comes up, and I hand him Barron and take Nathan from Gage. “Marshall and I will cruise the crowds. Don’t be long. I think it’s almost time to call it a night.” My rock-hard boobs agree.

  Gage lifts my chin gently and meets me with a steady gaze. There’s a sadness in his eyes, a distinct look of pain that I haven’t seen since those West Paragon days. “I love you,” he whispers. “Everything I do is for you, Skyla. Not heaven or hell, not the most wretched evil could keep me from loving and protecting you and our boys.” He lands a molten hot kiss onto my lips, and for a moment, the party, the small crowd around us dissipates to nothing. There is something pure about this kiss, this intimate moment Gage and I share. He’s telling me something far deeper than words could ever express. It’s an I love you mixed with something unidentifiable—an apology?