“Skyla can’t know about what?” a chipper female voice calls out from behind and I cringe.
We turn to find Skyla herself bounding over with a smile and a spring in her step. A pair of tight jeans shows off her svelte figure and a tight white turtleneck hugs her in all the right places. It’s been a month since Gage’s latest greatest tragedy, and I’ve been there for her as much as she’d let me. It’s been hard, though, tough as shit. She’s hardly eaten. She said she didn’t really have an appetite, and I can’t blame her, but this smile she’s wearing is the first genuine one I’ve seen. It makes me wonder if Chloe is lying somewhere in a ditch with her intestines wrapped around her neck the way Skyla promised. A grisly visual but profoundly poetic considering the fact Chloe has been choking us out with her shit for years.
Skyla’s eyes flit to that glass box on the table for a moment—Gage in a cage as we’ve grown to call it.
“What’s happening?” She looks to Ezrina when she says it because I think it’s Ezrina she trusts the most in this circle of testosterone.
“Boys are gathering the Spectators. I’ll begin the transformations and experimentations as soon as possible.” She gives a lazy nod toward Ellis. “The tests must be run on the healthy or the results will be obscure.”
“Ellis, no,” Skyla says it with a pleading tone but doesn’t outright deny him the right. “Think of everything you have to lose.”
“I’m thinking of everything Celestra will have to gain,” Ellis counters. “Have you seen the news? It’s a shit show out there. Wes is still haunting the planet with those creepy lights. Half the planet is convinced there will be a UFO takeover in the very near future. And that half-man, half-wolf they claim to have trapped in South America? It’s a Spectator, Skyla. Wes still has a handful he’s terrorizing the world with.”
Skyla straightens as she takes a deep breath. “Gage is in charge now. Wes isn’t to blame for anything anymore.” She looks to Coop, Brody, and Ellis. “Can the three of you bring back the Spectators on your own? I have another assignment for Logan.”
Brody chuckles. “Is that what you’re calling it these days? An assignment? So clinical.” He clicks his tongue at her, and I can’t help but see Chloe’s face hiding there. Brody was playfully teasing her, but the Chloe in him was outright mocking her.
“It’s nonsexual.” She winces my way. “I’m hoping. Marshall is taking us on a field trip. His verbiage, not mine. I’d wear my running shoes if I were you.”
“Duly noted.”
Our small circle disbands as Ezrina gets back to her microscopes and Ellis and Brody unload a treasure trove of spirit swords that Skyla supplied us with not long ago. They’ll help in disabling the Spectators—by way of coming just shy of killing them, but Ezrina says she needs them just about dead in order to bring them back the way they should be.
Her trials on living Spectators were only temporal at best. And her track record with bringing back Counts is superior. She plans on enlisting the same formulas she used for the Countenance. Skyla and I worked with Marshall to weaken the spirit swords, an exercise in draining their power from one to another like taking water out of a cup and filling another one, only it involved Marshall’s abilities. And since the swords were his to begin with, he insisted it fell within his right to do so. Here’s hoping for his sake.
“Coop.” Skyla pulls him in by the hand, her lips twisting in pain as she looks at him. “Laken wanted me to tell you that she enjoyed your time at the Transfer the other day. She said Gage invited you down to see the new features added for that ghostly traveling gentry.”
Coop’s chest expands, a defensive tactic, and I wonder what he has to be defensive about.
“It was Wesley’s idea,” Coop sighs. “He had a ghost town, no pun intended, put in a few miles past his home in hopes the Transfer dwellers might be less inclined to mill around his neighborhood. They’re starting to freak Tobie out and he’s bent on making his kids his number one priority. Laken and Wes are splitting their time between the Transfer and Paragon for now.”
“And you were there, too.” She examines him openly. Skyla isn’t immune to Cooper’s strange all-access pass either. “Lucky, lucky you.” She doesn’t smile or give her voice the proper inflection. Instead, she continues to study him for clues, but Coop is a master at his poker face.
Skyla and I say goodbye and head on out to the driveway.
“You mind if I take the wheel?” I ask while looking at her minivan, the windows covered in fingerprints.
“Only if we can take the Mustang.”
We pile in and it feels right. Skyla and me in the car I gifted her for her sixteenth birthday. This dusty orange car was my heart, my father’s heart once, too, and I wanted her to have it. But what I really wanted her to have was me. Here we are all those years later. And I still want the same thing.
We head into Dudley’s overgrown dungeon and find him tickling the keys to that haunted grand piano that seems to have a knack for playing itself.
“Wow, that’s beautiful, Marshall.” Skyla gushes as the Sector rises and takes a slight bow.
“I have been told I’m good with my hands.”
Skyla shoots a glance my way. “I wouldn’t know. Somebody has been cockblocking me at the pass.”
Marshall grumbles with a dull laugh, “I do believe this one is throwing his cock into the ring.”
“Marshall!” Skyla gasps at the seemingly crass Sector.
“It’s a bird, Ms. Messenger.” His demeanor darkens in an instance. “Do mind your manners when in my presence.”
“Duly noted.” She gives a sly wink my way. “So where are you taking us? I’ve got boys to feed, Spectators to rescue, and Factions of angels I’m working to restore.”
Dudley lifts a brow in amusement. “Are you implying you’re too busy for the interruption I’ve set before you?”
Skyla takes a seductive step toward him and gives his tie a quick tug. “I’m saying make it worth my while, big boy.”
“And on that note.” I glance to the door.
“Stop.” Skyla wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me in tight. “I’m sorry. My head is everywhere. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Marshall is a safe place for me. He never takes me seriously and rejects my every effort to be with him. Anything that happens when I’m knocked out cold in the middle of the night is nothing more than some sexed-up dream on my part.” Her shoulders sag as she looks up from under her lashes. “I’m just so angry, Logan. So filled with piss and vinegar. So unbelievably injured from what Gage has done. I know if I run to you I’ll fall twice as hard as I ever did. I will surrender to your soul completely and worship you in every way. I will be vulnerable in every capacity, and if you knifed me up the way he did, I could never survive.”
My arms circle her waist. “I will never hurt you. Never will I leave. I will never forsake our love. I would no sooner put my next breath above my love for you. There is no one for me but you. I’m running on half-speed without you, Skyla. Only you can ever complete me.”
Tears glitter in her eyes, but they remain stretched wide, the hint of dread lurking in the corners.
“My, what a show,” Dudley growls out his displeasure. “Such theatrics, Young Oliver. Might I suggest you take a page from my playbook as you would say?”
“And what would that be?”
“Stop throwing yourself on her like a wet blanket. You’ve smothered her. Look at your body language. You’ve caged her in. It says I need you far too much. I want to own you. Take a step back. Allow her to move, to breathe.”
Skyla’s chest bucks. “The two of you do realize I’m in the room.”
“Not for long.” Dudley glares at the roaring flames as the mouth of the fireplace yawns open, revealing a dark, unknowable portal.
“I guess that’s our cue.” Skyla offers a shy smile. “Just FYI, you’re no wet blanket. I like the way your arms feel around my body. You can cage me in anytime you like. I love that you need me far too much, because tha
t’s exactly how I need you.” A lone tear rolls down her cheek like a falling star. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, especially not Em, but I love that you want to own me. You already do. You have always owned me. In my dreams before we ever met on Paragon. Don’t take a step back or I might fall. I need you to breathe.”
There it is, every word I’ve ever craved to hear from her, spilled right at my feet, and to think I have that wily Sector to thank for it.
“Thank you for that,” I whisper. Every other sentiment begs to come up with it, but the boulder building in my throat won’t allow for it at the moment. I can’t remember the last time I cried tears of joy, but they are here just beneath the surface.
A magnificent roar comes from the fireplace and I take Skyla by the hand and head that way.
Dudley leads us through a murky shadowland, filled with haunted cries and screams of terror.
“A haunted light drive? You’re really rolling out the red carpet today, aren’t you?” I smart as he leads us back onto dry encrusted ground, a dead forest, and a bleak purple sky. “Where are we?”
“Paragon.” He lifts a hand at the desolation and keeps us moving at a quickened pace. We speed down the main thoroughfare, nothing but cracked earth, dead sticks that rise in the stratosphere like skyscrapers where the evergreens once stood. Not a pine needle in sight, just bald branches, death and desolation everywhere you look.
“Logan.” Skyla points to our left and we see the remnants of West Paragon High, half of Cerberus is missing from the building, the paint chipped, the edges of the building crumbling. Gone are the rolling green lawns, replaced with an orange thatch, weeds as tall as men everywhere you look. Dudley leads us to the mainland, to the cities, where there are camps of people living in the streets, hungry, dirty, so very tired—the look of despair on every one of their faces. He takes us to different continents, our feet moving as time and space rearrange around us. There is death, a plague, a natural disaster everywhere you look. Cities under siege, countries in starvation, currencies as dry as the riverbeds.
“Marshall”—Skyla pants—“I’ve seen enough. What’s happened? Why are you showing us this?”
Marshall extends his hands in the midst of utter chaos, criminals stealing from the poor, requiring their lives when there is nothing left to take. Bodies in piles in the street as if they were refuse. “This is the future, Skyla. Every life is cheap in the eyes of evil. This is what the king of the Barricade brings to the world. This is what we will reap if we choose to lay down our arms. The climate, the financial institution of every government on earth, the food supply, the housing market, healthcare, pensions, financial securities of any sort, they are all gone.”
“Gage has done this?” Skyla’s voice is lower than a whisper. The clear look of shock on her face matches my own.
“He has and he must in an effort to secure Demetri’s true goals. One world order. No one thrives without him. But what the enemy doesn’t understand is the cost of human lives, the cost of the human condition, is far too high to achieve their goals. Only he and his own will thrive. Left with a desperate planet, desperate people who would rather burn him than offer their worship. This is the kingdom he fights so hard for.”
“We need to show him this.” Skyla is shaking, her face red with rage. “Gage would never want this to happen. This isn’t his vision. I’m sure of it.”
“He won’t hear of it.” Dudley shakes his head. “He will question it, and find it lacking. What he sees in his mind’s eye is idealistic, a thriving world, a working order that maintains and flourishes. He will no sooner believe this if he heard of it than if he witnessed it with his own two eyes. Smoke and mirrors he would insist. Sit back and watch him, and all of his good works. And I promise you this much—if you do just that, you will receive no other outcome. This is what he has to offer. This is the path that he is coercing all of humanity into. The Barricade will lead the way to death and destruction. And he is their willing king.”
Skyla and I take in the carnage, the death, the massacre of our people, our culture, our freedoms, and fill ourselves with this horrific visual so we may never forget.
“This is it.” Skyla gives my hand a squeeze. “This is what we’re fighting against.”
“We needed to see this.” My eyes soak in the terror, the disintegration of life as we know it. “And now we know what we need to do.”
Skyla nods. “We’re not just stopping Gage from eliminating the remaining Factions. We’re stopping him from hurting all mankind.”
“You’re right. Not just for his good or for our good, but for the greater good.” I look to Dudley. “I think we’ve seen enough.”
Dudley bears those blood-red eyes of his straight into Skyla’s. He’s speaking to her, saying something that I’m not privy to. Telling her something with certainty and she nods as if accepting his words.
He leads us away from the hell around us, into a portal of darkness much like the one that landed us there to begin with. Haunted voices whisper all around us, the screams of a woman, a man can be heard in the distance, laughter fills the air, the rushing of a violent wind, then no more than a few steps are taken before we’re right back in Marshall’s living room, only Skyla is no longer with us.
“Where is she?” I glance back as the fireplace buttons itself up, the stonewall in place as if it never altered.
“Home with the boys. I informed her I would be returning her to the Landon residence so I might have a word with you alone.” He glowers at me as if I were the one responsible for the malfeasance we just witnessed. “You do realize this little side trip into the potential future was more than what it seems.”
“I get it. Skyla and I are getting our act together. We have a clear focus now. We might have been a little too myopic in trying to save our people. The big picture cleared things up for us. I appreciate it. More than you know.”
He gives a slow blink. “Excellent, but you’ve missed a very important highlight of our rendezvous. I’ve repaired the bridge, Young Oliver. Skyla’s heart is opened to yours now. In the same way the two of you need to tend to humanity, you need to tend to each other. There is a plan, and it very much requires your cooperation.”
“Are you talking about Skyla and me?”
“Do not force me to refer to you as The Slow One.”
“Do it and I’ll find a way to silence you forever.” I’m only half-teasing. “You mean that whole tap dance when we got here, that was you pulling the puppet strings to—”
“Usher the two of you in the right direction.”
“I’m already moving in the right direction, buddy.”
“And now, she is, too.” He gives a slight bow. “You’re welcome.”
He turns to take off and I shake my head in disbelief. “Why?” I bark it out like a threat.
Dudley takes in a deep breath, doesn’t bother turning around. “Because what’s ordained must come to pass. Let’s speed things along and keep our focus, shall we? There are children to be had, a planet to rescue, a Barricade to destroy. Don’t disappoint me. If you fail to do these things in a timely manner, I must step in.” He spins around and pins those bloody eyes on mine. “That is, after all, why I’m here.”
My blood runs cold. Dudley is here to replace me in the event I can’t perform. A celestial insurance policy of sorts. He’s both a safety net and a nuisance. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
He takes off for the back, walks right through an enormous window, and appears on the other side, unharmed. The glass vibrates as if it were made of water.
Dudley is powerful. He is capable. Skyla does love him. He could very well produce children with her, save a planet, or destroy a Barricade or two.
But so can I. And I will. There is no living being, created or born of nature, that I will allow to take my place.
I love Skyla. She is mine. She is my soulmate, my other half, the piece of the puzzle that completes me, that makes my heart beat, makes me take my very next breath
. I died fighting for her. Came back so I can help her, love her, build a life with her. She always has been, and she always will be my everything.
Skyla and I are on the road to recovery. We’re family. We’re going to have children.
Children?
My heart gives off a few riotous beats. Skyla and I were promised a child. A girl. Our precious Angel. We met her not too long ago and I want her back with everything in me. I want her in my world, in my arms. But Dudley said children. Adrenaline spikes through me at a dangerous clip.
Holy hell, I’m going to be a father. Something loosens in me. A weight lifts off my chest, a boulder that’s been lying over me since the day I asked Gage Oliver to protect her, to pretend she was his everything, to keep her safe.
It’s my turn to protect her because she is my everything. I’m going to keep Skyla, our people, and our children safe.
Our children. I can’t help but smile as I take off into the gray Paragon day.
Life is good again.
It just is.
12
Wesley
Eversor.
Ever sore. That about sums up my brother.
Gage has invited me up to discuss God knows what, and here I sit on his enormous sofa, in his enormous living room, next to a wall of fire that under no circumstances can be quantified as a meager fireplace while he stands before Sage, my very feisty, very ornery niece and delights her with his morphing abilities. A newly defined skill for a new day and he’s exercising the living shit out of it. As his powers grow in strength, so does his ego. And an ego can be a very dangerous thing. I should know.
“Do that old grump Mother lives with.”
Gage groans, closes his eyes and his features, and his entire frame molds into Tad Landon.
“I’m tired of your rear sticking out of my refrigerator!” he riots, sounding perfectly like the ass himself.
Sage giggles like an innocent schoolgirl, the exact thing she must never be underestimated as.
All Hail the King (Celestra Forever After Book 6) Page 21