“So be it.” I pretend to go along with Demetri’s mockery. As far as I see it, it’s on a countdown anyhow—countdown to Skyla’s death. A thought comes to me. “What would happen if Skyla were to die? Who would take over? Who would I have to battle next?” I think both Demetri and I know I’m not sticking around for that shit show, but regardless, I want the details. Every last one of them.
He takes a deep breath. “That child she’s carrying. It should be that child,” he says it as if he’s uncertain. “They’ll take over, of course. The family business must go on. And if I know Candace—and believe me, I know Candace—the next will be more powerful than the last.”
“Do you know me?” a sweet chortling voice chimes from behind and we turn to find Skyla’s countenance staring back at us in the form of her mother. I would be a liar if I didn’t admit that it warmed me to see her. If I can’t have Skyla, I’ll take her in fragments. I smile at the fact because I happen to have put a hedge over my thoughts that no one—not even the devilish duo before me can penetrate. In fact, I’ve extended the courtesy to my guests. The last thing I want is to know what anybody is truly thinking.
Her eyes light up, sparkling with a light only heavenly diamonds can. “Congratulations.” She loses the smile. Her demeanor is suddenly cold—an affect that I’m far more familiar with from her. “Know this. Your victory, though true, will be short-lived. You will not prosper. You will not carry out this buffoonery to finality.” Her lips curl at the tips. “Does this comfort you in some small way?”
Her words warm me. It’s as if deep down I had longed to hear it. But I demand that I roar back to life.
“Hell no. I rebuke your words. Do not tread on my crown while it’s still cold on my head. I have won the war, Skyla.” My voice shakes and I don’t bother correcting the verbal blunder of uttering the wrong name. “And you will not prosper. Nor will your people.”
Demetri chuckles, but Candace grows colder still. Her icy stare has my soul downright shivering.
“Very well. Have it your way—in your mind. But Celestra prospers.” She offers a simple nod to Demetri. “And I have never spoken a lie.” The words come out like a challenge, as if she were calling Demetri out on something. I’m sure Demetri has slithered his way past many a slippery word, so I don’t even go there. For that I believe Candace, for the rest of it, I will gladly make a liar out of her. She floats back down toward the gentry and they swarm her with delight.
“Even in my dominion, Candace Messenger reigns supreme,” I muse.
“Yes, well, let her have her moment.” Demetri’s affect grows dark for the very first time since I can remember. “For that slight we’ll take down the rest of Celestra. And it will be the last time anyone speaks to us that way.” He charges off, arms outstretched as he meets with Lizbeth.
Take down the rest of Celestra? Shit. Hell no, I want to say, but he’s probably right. I need to set a precedence, one that says do not mock me or my crown or there will be consequences, and there will be.
“What’s this?” Dudley comes up, and the sight of him makes me yearn for days gone by when I was his charge in that math class right along with Skyla. How we thought those were miserable days, and now I see them for what they were—pure gold, an earthly ecstasy that will forever remain unmatched. That about describes every moment I’ve ever shared with Skyla. The encapsulation of our earthly cannon together as a couple.
“Well, you’ve done it.” Dudley smacks his lips with disdain. “You’ve managed to take all of the disappointment I’ve had in you and multiply it by numbers yet discovered by man.”
A dark laugh bounces in my chest. “And you didn’t think I’d amount to anything.”
“You’ve amounted to something, all right. An overgrown pile of excrement.” He sheds a momentary grin. “Now, how do you propose to detangle yourself from this nightmare?” Those boiling cauldron eyes pin me down with something outside of hatred—dare I say, an inkling of affection?
Is Marshall trying to help me on some level? A drowning rat he’s throwing out a lifeline to?
“I don’t have a single clue, Dudley.” My lips twitch, but there’s no smile brimming in me. It’s devastation. Dudley has never been cruel, or at least particularly cruel to me. More like an annoying uncle. The thought of sending him to hell in a handbasket devastates me. I can’t be around him. I can’t let his presence burrow into my psyche like a thorn I’ll never be rid of. My singular mission is to spend eternity with Skyla and the kids.
I take a step away and he catches me by the crook of my elbow.
“What has your spirit in so much disarray?” He eyeballs me with suspicion. “Why have you allowed yourself to become the puppet in somebody else’s game?”
He’s toying with me. He knows exactly why. He wants to build doubt. It’s his life or mine. I get it. I’d do that exact same thing. Hell, I am.
I slap him on the shoulder. “It’s been nice talking to you.”
I take off for the crowd and Lizbeth tackles me with a secure hug.
“I’m so proud of you, Gage.” She pulls back with watery eyes. “Things may not have worked out for you and Skyla, but you will always have a place in my heart as my son.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that,” I say as Nathan and Barron run up. Sage looks worse for wear as she follows them. Her clothes are disheveled, her hair sprayed out in every manner.
“They’re monsters, Father.” She does her best to slick her hair back. “They deserve to be caged and have the door bolted behind them. Send them back. I don’t want them drooling over my throne or yours.” She gives Lizbeth a curt look. “These boys are ninnies and so are you.” She stomps off and I let out an exacerbated breath.
Lizbeth waves it off as if it were no big deal just as Demetri calls her away to introduce her to the gentry.
Logan comes up and picks up Nathan for a moment, rocketing him through the air until he gets an enthusiastic squeal from him. I can’t help but scowl. Deep down, I still care for Logan, but something about having him back with Skyla makes me like him just a little bit less.
“Congratulations.” He forces a weak smile to come and go as Barron begs him for a ride and he does the same party trick. “So, what’s next? A Celestra slaughter to celebrate?”
“Most of Celestra is mine at this point.” True as God. I’ve had so many converts in the last few months I don’t even know what Skyla has left to fight for.
“Yeah, well. Just giving you the heads-up. We’re going to free the captives on Raven’s Eye.”
“Do it quick. Word on the street is they’re dying off faster than flies.”
“Not funny. How are you doing on hiding the markers? That is how you get the Nephilim to follow your wicked lead for life, right?”
“That’s my brother’s task—and beware. He is damn good at any task given to him.” I glance over to find Coop still immersed in conversation with Laken and a swell of relief fills me. That’s the one task I can’t allow him to excel at. Wes must relinquish Laken. It’s for the cause, but he won’t get it. There are some things that Wesley Edinger shouldn’t be apprised of.
“How are you doing hiding the markers?” I don’t mind punting the question right back at him. Logan squirms a moment, his eyes darting back in the crowd toward Skyla.
“It’s going.” That long slash on his face inverts for a moment. “Thank you for returning Skyla safely to me. Candace mentioned only you could have done that. Thank you for that mercy.”
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for her. She needs to fight.”
“You’ve left her almost nothing to fight for. Why the celestial bullying act?” He leans in, suddenly all pretenses have been mopped off the table. “What’s got your new panties in a wad? You could have had Skyla. Nothing you do makes sense anymore. It’s like we never knew you.”
“Maybe you didn’t.” My heart breaks a little bit more. Any further crumbling and there will be nothing left of it. Skyla won’t have people, and I
won’t have a heart. That about sums up this shit life we’re living.
“Despite what the powers-that-be tell you”—he leans in, his voice low—“you weren’t born for this. I promise you that. The old you? The happier, far more content version? That was the real deal. I’m going to get you back, Gage. I don’t know how or when, but I will.”
Skyla comes upon us, and along with her Chloe crops up, too, in that sparkling tent she’s donned.
Skyla nods my way. “Thank you, Gage,” she says it low. “I think I’ll take the boys home now. Sage told me off. She said you should have let me burn.” Her eyes widen as if she were amused, but I can see the pain in them.
Chloe barks out a laugh. “She’s a little charmer, isn’t she? Wise beyond her spiritual years. We’ve become fast friends in the time I’ve known her. I must say, I see a little spark of myself in her.”
Skyla grunts, “And that sums up nicely all that’s wrong with her.”
Chloe lifts a finger. “Before I forget. Lex is coming over tomorrow to do a maternity shoot for us.” She looks to Skyla, that dark smile bleeding over her lips, and I can feel the zinger coming. “We’ll need the boys, of course. It’s a family shoot. I’ll have a picture framed for you. And feel free to do the same. I would love to have a picture of you and Logan in my home.”
“My home, Chloe,” Skyla reminds her. “You are living in my home.”
“Yes, I’m living your life, Skyla. Your old life. And now it is my life. Your Celestial mother once said things had a way of righting themselves, and that’s exactly what’s happened.” She wraps her arms around me tightly, her vindictive eyes never leaving Skyla’s. “Everything is so damn right.”
Logan growls, “You sold out.” He says the words directly to Chloe and I can feel her flinch. “You sold your people for less than a song. A cheap thrill. You don’t have his love, Chloe. I am stymied by a lot of things. Unsure of half of what I know, but I am certain of this, you have no place in Gage Oliver’s heart. You’ve sold out Celestra to the devil. Deep down, you know that.”
Chloe slaps a hand to her belly. “Gage is the father of my child. Please don’t start with this bull again. What Gage and I have was not only destined to be by the most exquisite power of all”—she nods toward Candace a few feet in front of us as she laughs with Demetri and Dudley—“this is real. And yes, Logan, this is love.” She presses her dark eyes to Skyla. “I think this is the perfect time for us all to shake off the past and move on. You’re happy with Logan—carrying his child. Don’t let my husband’s ghost be the third person in your relationship. The only reason his feelings got mixed up for you is because, way back when—Logan asked him to fake a relationship with you. Gage told me everything.” I told her no such thing. “Sometimes in this life we let things go too far with the wrong people. It happens every day. It fills our courtrooms with couples trying to rid themselves of marriages that never fit to begin with. I say we’re both lucky that this didn’t drag out another thirty years. And now, you have your precious bundle coming and we have ours. Let’s live in peace. I’m offering you an olive branch, Skyla.” Her tone seems sincere, as about sincere as Chloe can be. “In fact, since we’re going to be co-parenting for a very long time, I’d like to start over with you. What do you say?” She extends a hand toward Skyla. “My name is Chloe Oliver. Nice to meet you.”
Skyla glances down at Chloe’s hand as if it were a snake.
“Like I said, Gage, I’ll be taking the boys home. Fun party. Cool hat. We’ll see you around.”
Skyla and Logan take off and scoop the boys up on their way over to Candace. I watch as they walk off with Dudley and they all disappear in a bright blue fog.
“That went well.” Chloe relaxes over me, her enormous frame exhaling away with delight. I’m sure it went exactly how she wanted. And sadly, it’s exactly how I wanted it to go as well. I can’t have them comfortable. The constant irritation is necessary if Skyla is ever going to form a pearl strong enough to assist her people.
“Don’t worry, Chloe.” I give her a little squeeze. “It went far better than you think.” And it’s affirmation that Chloe Bishop is the only woman for me outside of Skyla. And it can never be Skyla on planet earth again.
The next morning, Chloe is buzzing with glee. She’s donned a pair of maternity jeans and a white T-shirt that’s lifted above her bare belly as she sits in the living room barefoot. Logan dropped the boys off about ten minutes ago after they took them to breakfast. No fanfare. No Skyla. Said they’d be back to pick them up in two hours. He wished me good luck with the pictures and then took off.
Lexy Bakova has turned the living room into a virtual studio with a giant white spotlight and white plastic sails that stretch near the ceiling to control the shadows. The boys are both wearing bright orange sweaters and sweats, and Chloe hasn’t stopped bitching about it yet.
“I swear she does this to punish me,” she grunts to Lex as the two of them struggle to dress the boys in a pair of white matching T-shirts and jeans—the exact attire she’s commanded me to wear and I’ve dutifully donned.
I guess this is the part where I should say that I now know what it’s like to be married to a demanding shrew. But honestly, Chloe has been patient with me. Her love just might be enough for the both of us in this desolate equation. She’s tiptoed around me like a time bomb. She’s put up with far more celibacy than should be expected in any marriage, and she’s kept the house tidy, fed me three solid meals—it’s sort of like prison in that respect.
Lexy offers Barron a brisk slap to the bottom after she gets his jeans on and Barron donkey kicks her in the face so I don’t address it. At this point, the boys are pretty good at taking care of themselves. Chloe wouldn’t dare strike the boys, playfully or not. She knows I’ve got a hard line and that they are it.
“All right, honey.” Chloe flicks her fingers my way. “Come, come.” She pats the spot on the white quilt next to her, and I land hard on the floor as the boys topple over me.
“Careful.” Chloe turns her enormous belly—and it’s just that overnight. “Mommy has a baby in her tummy.”
I remember that with Skyla. One minute it was just a tiny hump, and then she burst into life as if she had a beach ball stretched under her flesh.
What I wouldn’t do to go back there. Hell, maybe I will for the fun of it. A little light driving in the night when I can’t sleep. And I can never sleep anymore, even if it was a superfluous deal to begin with.
Nathan pauses to look at me. “Mommy has a babies.” He pluralizes it and this alarms me mildly, but then the boys haven’t exactly perfected the King’s English, so I’m not too worried about having another set of twins just yet.
Barron smacks into my chest like a freight train, nearly taking my chin out in the process. “Mommy has Uncle Loggie’s babies. Uncle Loggie has a babies, too.”
“Great,” I say it flat as Lex snaps up a couple hundred pictures, documenting the moment.
“All right, boys”—Lex waves to get their attention—“look at the camera and smile.”
“Say baby!” Chloe chimes, and the boys echo her about sixteen times.
The boys grow wild and unstable as they swim from Chloe to me, their feet eventually ending up in our faces.
“These are gold!” Lexy sings from behind the lens, her finger never leaving the trigger. “Keep it going.”
Nathan smacks Chloe on the mouth with his knee, and then somehow in the next second, he’s picking her nose with his toes.
“All right, you little monster.” Chloe rolls Nathan off of her. “You’re done. You can each have a juice box from the fridge. Go on, get.” She shoos them off as they speed to freedom and I’m tempted to speed right along with them.
“Good show,” I say, getting on my knees, and Chloe yanks me right back over to her.
“Oh no, you don’t. It’s time for a picture with just you, me, and the baby.” She stretches that T-shirt over her bare belly and straddles her legs on either sid
e of me. “Get down and kiss it.”
I inch back, looking at Chloe as if her daily bout of insanity has just kicked in.
Her eyes enlarge dangerously as if she were threatening me with a curse if I didn’t comply, and I have no doubt she is.
“Fine,” I say it curt, just as threatening. At this point, I’m not sure if Chloe wants a show for Lexy or something she considers high art to hang on the wall. The thought of her doing just that makes me cringe. Skyla will undoubtedly see it. The sight of the malfeasance will singe her soul. And if I’m being truthful, it might actually infuriate her—and that seems to be my mission in this new life of mine.
I lower myself to Chloe’s bulbous frame and press my lips gently over the tip of her belly and hold my pose while Lexy moans and surges as her camera shutters at dangerous speeds. Chloe cradles my head, digs her fingers into my hair, and I have no doubt she’s getting off on this.
“Got it!” Lexy cheers. “Such a phenomenal picture! Okay, now stand. Gage, you get behind her and form your hands in the shape of a heart over her stomach.”
We do as we’re told and Chloe does her best to burrow her bottom into my crotch as Lexy goes on a shooting spree.
“Perfect!” Lexy cries. “Got it. Got it.” She pulls back and studies the backside of her camera for a moment. “Okay, so I like to wrap it up with a smooching sesh. It brings good juju to my camera. Smack her one, Gage.”
It would be my privilege to smack her, but I’m not kissing Chloe. I’ve done that enough already, a peck at our faux nuptials last winter—for the camera, that is. Wesley was unlucky enough to kiss her at the original ceremony in the throne room right before they set the sheets on fire, literally.
All Hail the King (Celestra Forever After Book 6) Page 38