What Laken and I have is real. We are forever. And with the Barricade in the power position, my bumbling brother on the throne, Laken and I will have all of eternity to work out the kinks in the matrimonial armor. We are holy and right, and tonight I will show her exactly how much I worship her.
An applause builds around us as Laken and I part.
“My queen.” I bow to her.
Demetri heads straight for the champagne.
Music streams from above, a choir of those disbanded souls that roam the Transfer I’ve managed to rustle up, and, my God, right now they sound like the angels they were meant to be.
“Come here.” I reel Laken in just as Gage slaps a hand over my shoulder.
“I need a word with you, buddy.” He flexes a dry smile for Laken, but it’s purely manufactured. I should know, it’s the same one I produce when I’m not really in the mood. No sooner do I step away from my beautiful bride than Coop and Skyla swoop in. I’ve never been happier to have Skyla in the room than I am at the moment. Laken is far too stunning. I couldn’t blame Coop if he tried to take off with her.
“What?” I bark to my brother as we make our way to the foyer.
Gage glares hard my way, his jaw clenching so tight his teeth are about to burst out of his mouth like a piñata.
“That little birthday blitz down in Brazil?” His eyes glow with rage. “Let’s just say it didn’t go as planned.”
He shoves his phone my way and I check out the screen.
Shit.
Just shit.
17
The King and I
Skyla
March comes in like a lion with its roaring wind, its dramatic sideways rain because God knows a mere blustery day is not enough for Paragon.
But the weather is the least of my worries. No sooner did Logan and I get back from our brief stint in Rome than we got news via Marshall that more than thirty Celestra were missing from Brazil.
Missing.
As in vanished.
The world thinks a drug lord kidnapped the men, their families are understandably anxious, but a far deeper fear has me unnerved and I’ve sent Cooper and Ellis to investigate. Some way, somehow, I need to know if those men were slaughtered or if they were taken for far more nefarious purposes. One thing I know for sure is the fact Gage is behind their disappearance. No matter what happens, I am certain that Gage Oliver alone is responsible for those Celestra souls. God have mercy on them. But as for Gage, I’m afraid there is no room in heaven for Gage’s tarnished being. He has wholly evolved into a monster. Maybe Logan and I are wrong, maybe Gage isn’t caged in, imprisoned beneath his newly remastered flesh. Maybe he’s been a lie all along.
My stomach churns and burns as bile creeps up in the back of my throat. Ever since I’ve gotten wind of those missing men, I’ve been sick to my stomach—and understandably so, considering I can’t help them and here I am their fearless useless leader. And worse yet, the Factions are spooked. I’ve bled out what little people were left to begin with since Gage eviscerated us last fall. Celestra is nothing but a shell of what it once was. All is gone and I have Gage to thank for it.
It’s the second Saturday of the month, and there’s yet another wedding to be had. This time right here at Casa Landon. As soon as Brielle heard that Wes and Laken tied the knot, she was pissed to high heaven, accusing Laken of trying to one-up her in the bestie department. And then, just like that, she had the genius idea of having a vow renewal right here in the Landon living room where her lust for my stepbrother began all those years ago. Marshall is officiating and my mother has quite literally purchased a fattened hog, butchered and catered from one of Seattle’s premier five-star restaurants.
As soon as Tad cashed in on his latest lottery winnings, he went hog wild—a pun that could not be avoided—and made some very self-indulgent, pricy as hell purchases that have both Logan and me worried for the financial health of the family.
“They say winning large sums of money can be a curse,” I whisper as Logan and I watch Tad and my mother set out a buffet spread that could easily feed five hundred people.
The dining room table has been converted into a buffet stand and there are eight luxurious extra-large chafing dishes made of sterling silver. They’re drop-dead beautiful, as is the mega chandelier hanging awkwardly over the table—hell, it’s dwarfing the table. In fact, it’s better suited for the grand dining hall down at Paragon Palms Hotel than it is here.
Em busies herself fussing over Bree in the corner with her new sweet baby, Ella, sucking on her dangling boob, and, my God, Em’s poor boobs do dangle.
Drake and Ethan battle it out video game style—in designer tuxedos that Tad purchased outright for them—in front of the mega 4D TV. It’s unnerving watching all those zombies that look as if they could quite literally stagger out into the living room. I’m sure once Gage sees them, he’ll get a couple dozen bad ideas. Gage Oliver seems bogged down with nothing but bad ideas these days.
Logan leans in. His warm breath dancing over my neck makes me moan with pleasure.
“Anything can be a curse, Skyla, if you let it.”
His words ring out like a warning bell and I shudder.
I bat my lashes up at his comely eyes, my entire body stepping in close to his. Logan and I haven’t been together since that wild prom night, and every time I think of it I can’t help but giggle, my body heating to unsafe levels.
“You know I was thinking, maybe I should wrangle a sitter for tonight.” I bite down nervously over my bottom lip and watch as his eyes widen. “I might even arrange for them to watch the boys until morning.” Even though Gage and I supposedly share custody, no matter if Gage has them for the day, the boys always sleep here with me. They are mama’s boys through and through and I love it that way.
I glance over at them in the corner playing with miniature cars along with Beau. How they love their older cousin. They practically look up to him in every way and I find that a tad bit frightening. This is Drake and Bree’s son we’re talking about. And believe you me, the fruit did not fall far from the flatulent tree. He’s a bruiser and has been known to dole out a beating with a smile on his face.
“A sitter?” Logan ticks his head to the side, that cocky grin riding high on his lips. “So, who are you going out with? Is Em ready to have a girls’ night after sequestering herself in the house for the last three months?” His left eye comes shy of winking and I wrinkle my nose at him.
“I was thinking of Ellis.” I can’t help but widen my eyes at my own amusement. “Rumor has it, he’s been in the doghouse with G because of that stunt he pulled—or should I say Emerson pulled the night of the dance, and I told him I’d go out with him.” I clasp my hand over his and my thumb does a quick slither over his palm.
Logan moans softly the way he’s prone to do when he’s deep inside of me and I melt on contact. But Logan and I haven’t been together since that magical night and it’s all my protective heart’s fault. In a sad way, I felt as if I was cheating on Gage. Ironic seeing that Gage has no problem at all cheating on me. I guess I needed more time to heal than I initially thought. I don’t know that I’ll ever truly heal from the trauma he’s impinged on me.
Logan’s brows pinch together, the formation of a bird about to take flight. “And where exactly are you letting Harrison drag you off to?”
I trap my tongue between my teeth a moment because I just love that Logan is playing along. That’s one of my favorite things about Logan. I can get him to go along with just about anything I like.
He gives a slight nod, affirming the fact he’s prying in on my stream of consciousness.
“Ballroom dancing.” I wince. “And knowing Ellis, we’ll probably light up a big fat one later. He mentioned that he and Drake have grown a miraculous batch that the entire free world will be clamoring to get their hands on. It is going to rain green from all the green they’re growing. His bad analogy, not mine.” It’s true. Ellis stopped by earlier to give Drake
an early wedding gift, a giant bucket of weed. Both Drake and Bree say they’re saving it for tonight. At least they’re saving something for their wedding night.
“Ballroom dancing?” he mouths the words as Mia calls to me from the hall.
“Hang on, I’d better shore up the details with my sitter.” I go to leave and he spins me back to him, making it look just like a move you might see out on the dance floor. I’m sensing a theme. “What are you doing later, Oliver?”
He ticks his head back, his lids hang heavy, and his lips curl at the tips. “Lexy said she wanted to swing by and show me some dance moves of her own.”
I don’t hesitate to swat him. “You are terrible. I guess we’ll both be shaking our stuff tonight.” I take a step out and he catches me by the wrist, that playful look on his face making him look lethally sexy.
“Shake it for me,” he whispers, his amber eyes never leaving mine.
“Let’s just say, the odds are in your favor.” I bubble with laughter all the way to the hall where I meet up with both of my sisters.
Mia and Melissa are quick to shuttle me to the foyer, their budding excitement is on the verge of hysterics.
“What’s happening?” I laugh right along with them. For the first time in forever, it feels okay to laugh and feel joy at the very same time. It feels peaceful—as peaceful as a leader can get knowing that thirty of her men are missing. I plan on having a serious meeting of the minds with Marshall as soon as Bree’s vow renewal is over. This has gone on long enough.
Mia gives Melissa a hearty shove in my direction. “You go first.”
Melissa rolls her eyes. Her hair is sitting on top of her head in a bun and her widow’s peak hangs prominent into her forehead. I love the way Melissa embraces it rather than trying to hide it.
“So Dom and I finalized the formula this morning. Paragon Love Potion is a go.” She gives a casual shrug. “I ran into Gabe this afternoon at the Burger Hut and I spiked his soda when he wasn’t looking.”
“Oh my God, you can go to jail for something like that.” I’m not laughing anymore. The last thing I want for either of my sisters is for them to get tangled up in legal trouble. “Did anyone see you do it?”
She shakes her head, her annoyance evident in the way she’s scowling at me.
“No,” she hisses. “I waited until he went back to load up his bag with napkins and ketchup. He was getting it to go. Anyway—he took a few swigs and I did exactly what Dom told me to do. I looked right into his eyes and shouted you’re the one for me at the top of my lungs.”
“Oh God.” I shudder at the humiliation Melissa undoubtedly faced whether or not she knows it and I’m betting not. “Melissa, she’s pulling your leg. There is no love potion. Just be thankful you didn’t poison the boy. A love potion can never work. There’s no scientific way to make someone fall in love with you.”
Melissa huffs as she lands a hand on her hip. “Sure there is. The powder has some serious feel-good vibes attached to it and I happen to know firsthand it gives you a mean rush. As soon as he sipped the drink, I saw his eyes roll back into his head and that’s when I yelled at him. Now he’s forever going to associate me with that feeling, and once he runs out of the drink, the only other way to get those feel-good vibes will be through me.”
“As in, you’ll be his supplier,” I flatline.
A knock goes off at the door and I open it to find my friendly neighborhood Sector.
“Speaking of feel-good vibes.” I pull Marshall into a hearty embrace and nothing. “You are one cold-hearted bastard.” I give a little wink to dampen the effects of my salty language.
Mia pokes me in the ribs. “Anyway, I’m seeing Rev tonight when he brings back D-O-G and you can bet your Logan Oliver loving dollar I’m going to spike the Kool-Aid.” She leans up and whispers, “Nice job in the man wrangling department yourself. I saw the way he was looking at you and holding your hand.”
I clear my throat as I try my best to ignore the fact Marshall is openly listening in.
“Speaking of which,” I say. “Would you mind sleeping in my room tonight and watching the boys? I’ll be back before breakfast.”
Mia shakes her head. “It’s a no-go. If I cast my spell just right, I won’t be home tonight either.” She pumps her shoulders as she and Melissa take off for the family room once again. “Sorry not sorry!” she sings out.
Marshall growls over at me a moment, his eyes riding up and down my body, raking over me like a nuclear heat wave until they slowly widen as if in disbelief.
In truth, I’ve been laying low ever since Logan and I did the deed. For one, I knew Marshall and his sex-ray vision would be picking up on my lascivious good time and besides that, the boys had a cold so I had to keep them in.
“Marshall”—I twirl us into the formal living room to steal a moment of privacy—“Logan loves me.” I shake my head up at him as if denying it. “And I love him,” I whisper the words like a secret, but it feels amazing to say them out loud.
His affect sobers on a dime. “Any other details you’d like to bore me with?”
I can’t help but make a face up at the surly Sector. “I was going to say”—I take up his hand once again, hoping those amazing feel-good vibes would pulse through me—“my mother really loves Logan, too.”
Marshall looks somewhere between sick and angry. “Yes. I am aware of her affinity for the Pretty One.”
“If it makes you feel better, he gets all of his pretty and his amazing brains from you.” I was going to add his staggering prowess in bed, but think better of it. Marshall gives my hand an affirming squeeze to let me know he heard and my face heats hot as that sun I haven’t seen in years.
“My genes only provide the brightest and the best.” He leans in with those boiling red eyes bearing hard into mine. “And believe me, that boy you’re playing hide the pencil with has been swimming in a rather diluted gene pool.” He openly glowers at me and I don’t dare giggle at the hide the pencil comment. Logan Oliver just so happens to have a baseball bat of his own tucked in those Levi’s, but that will be my not-so-little secret—and Chloe’s. I hate that Chloe has defiled every man I’ve slept with. Now it’s me glowering up at the steamy Sector. I have no true recall of whether or not Marshall has rocked Chloe’s world, but I’d bet good money he’s conquered that ornery pussycat and taught her a carnal lesson or two. I can see him now, thrusting in hard from behind while Chloe claws into the sheets on all fours.
Marshall drops my hand like a bad phone line and lifts a brow, doesn’t say a word and yet says everything.
A low growl emits from me. “I bet she took it like a champ, too.”
His lips curve upward like a pair of wicked horns, affirming so much. “Back to you and me. It just so happens that—”
“As I was about to say”—I’m quick to cut him off—“you have to realize that there’s no way my mother is going to let Logan leave this planet early again if ever. She is absolutely smitten with him.”
Marshall is right back to glowering. “And you are suggesting—”
“I’m not suggesting. I’m being honest. You and I might not get our time.”
A dark laugh gurgles from his chest. “Oh, my dear love.” Marshall rakes his fingers through my hair. “Even if that dolt you’ve spiritually leashed yourself to proves to be indestructible”—his finger glides over my cheek, slow and heated—and in combination with those vibratronics he’s suddenly turned back up on blast, it feels like the most erotic move I’ve ever felt—“I will still conquer you in every manner. We will bear good fruit regardless or not if I have to tie the Pretty One to a chair and make him watch. It’s not for me to determine his fate, but ours has been sealed. You have been promised to me, so you see, Ms. Messenger, I don’t take kindly to people stealing what’s mine. Regardless of his state of being, you and I will find the time to yoke ourselves together in every carnal way. And if the Pretty One is alive for the main event, I suggest he go along with it, lest he find
himself in the aforementioned unpleasant bind.” A crooked grin appears from nowhere. “Fear not. You will enjoy every moment of our time together.”
The boys run up in all their miniature Gage Oliver glory. There is no denying he fathered these precious somewhat naughty beings. Barron whines and cries as soon as he attaches himself to my leg.
“Mommeee!” I’ve gone from Mama to Mommy in a single bound and I love it. The boys have been chatting up a storm since Christmas, and some of the ways they mispronounce things are so adorable I don’t have the heart to correct them, like killow for pillow, fuck for truck—I let Emma grapple with that one—and silly pilly for the Silly Putty—the stuff that Bree insists on purchasing by the gallon. Apparently, it was her favorite form of entertainment when she was a kid and she wanted to pass down the sticky stuff to younger generations. “Nate is hitting on me!” Barron kicks his brother like a donkey and Nathan is quick to pull his hair.
Marshall gurgles with a laugh. “Enough of that. Be kind and I might have a treat for the two of you.”
The boys laugh slap Marshall’s leg as if he were a piñata. The boys love their Uncle Marshy to death. They take off running for the family room because Marshall has been known to spoil them wildly with the smallest of trinkets.
I frown up at him. “Nothing from the seventeenth century, please. All of that crap is loaded with mercury and lead. That plague they had might have been demonized but, face it, they were doomed either way.”
He shakes a fist and opens his palm to reveal a handful of small plastic toys, men and women, a few cats and dogs. Marshall gives his hand a quick shake, and much to my horror the tiny toys yawn to life and begin to move and look up at us in wonder.
All Hail the King (Celestra Forever After Book 6) Page 29