“Never mind. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay close all night. Maybe if we don’t talk about it, if we don’t acknowledge it, she’ll let this one slide.” I glance to the sky. “After all, this is Logan’s baby!” I shout, and nothing spectacular happens.
Marshall wraps an arm around my shoulders and navigates us toward the expansive patio. “Do you really think that will matter?”
“Oh, yes, my mother loves Logan as much as I do. Of course, I had to suffer when having the boys. She detests Gage. She wanted to spread the misery. But this time it’s different. This time I’ll be holding my precious daughter in my arms and not even have noticed I was in labor.”
He averts those fiery eyes a moment. “Keep believing that, Skyla.”
A small crowd pours out of the house, and among them are Mom and Tad.
Mom lunges at me dressed as a flapper. Her beaded skirt catches the light and glitters with her every move.
“You look beautiful,” I say. She looks thin, too, but then everyone does compared to me. Her hair is curled up at the tips and she’s overdrawn her eyes and has bright red lipstick on. “Mom, you look like a million bucks tonight.”
Tad steps forward and gives his dark suit a tug at the lapels. “That would be me,” he corrects. “I had this suit custom made in Italy with gold threading.” He opens his jacket as if inviting us to inspect the gold-threaded evidence. “Ask me how much I paid for it!” His voice hikes a notch with his enthusiasm.
“I’m afraid to.”
Marshall gives my shoulder a bump with his. “Come now, Skyla, you must be curious in the least.”
“No, I’m frightened. Whatever it was it was too much. They sell perfectly good suits right here on the island.”
My mother is quick to refute the idea with a shake of her head. “No, they don’t, Skyla. To get a tailored suit like that he’d have to travel all the way to Seattle.”
“I see. So, opting to have it shipped from Italy was the more economical decision. Well done,” I say just as another hard contraction decides to do a takedown of my better senses. I grab onto Marshall’s hand again, and to my horror there’s nothing.
Crap.
I glance down, making sure I haven’t latched onto Tad’s by mistake, but I haven’t.
“Oh God,” I moan. Now we’ve done it. That entire conversation tipped my mean Celestial mother off. And why is she so mean? She certainly has the power to spare me of this nightmare.
Marshall offers an angry look to the sky. Let me see what I can do.
He bows toward my mother—Lizbeth, the one who would scream her head off with excitement if she knew I was in active labor.
“If you will all excuse me”—Marshall takes a quick breath—“I’ll be back soon. Lizbeth, your party-planning techniques are flawless. I must utilize you again.”
Mom chortles while waving at him dismissively. “The pleasure was all mine.” She bounces her brows my way. “That man is not hard to look at.” Her voice is low and sultry, and as much as I want to make an internal quip at my mother’s inability to control herself around handsome men, her behavior is helping me deviate from the pain.
I try to casually breathe my way through it. God knows the one person I cannot tip off to the fact I’m in labor is my mother. She’ll clear a space right here on the ground and have me naked, spread eagle and pushing just to get her grubby hands on my baby.
Tad threads his arm through hers. “Do you know who else isn’t hard to look at? Me.” He digs his thumb into his chest, that look of unmitigated pride taking over his features. He grins and his gold teeth catch the light.
I nod over to him. “I can assure you, Tad, people are looking.”
Mom leans in my way while her gaze hooks onto something behind me. “You know who else isn’t hard to look at? Demetri. Have you seen him tonight?”
“Mom.” I hitch my head toward Tad, but in all honesty, he’s a bit preoccupied at the moment inspecting the inside seam of his suit.
“It’s true, Skyla. Look at him.” She spins me around, and, my God, it’s like turning a cruise ship. “He’s right over there with those women.”
I grunt when I spot them, “I have news for you, Mother. Those women are after your man. That’s Dominique Winters and Marlena Bishop.”
It’s hard to believe it was just last year that I almost sliced Dominique’s head off for killing Gage. And here we are, just months later, and I’m suddenly moved to pen her a thank you.
Who knew I was trapped in a loveless marriage?
Wait, that’s not right. I loved Gage. He didn’t love me. He couldn’t have felt the things I was feeling and then shoved me to the side for Chloe—not to mention how lousy he treats me every chance he gets. It turns out, Gage Oliver is a real asshole. The question is, how could my asshole radar have been so far off base?
Mom dislodges herself from Tad so fast he ends up spinning off like a top while my mother navigates us to the edge of the patio to better spy on the man of her lustful dreams.
“You don’t think he’s interested in them, do you?”
“Oh, who cares.” I’m so tense from the fear of my stomach knotting up again—over the thought of my sweet baby girl dropping from between my legs in some umbilical cord bungee plunge maneuver, the last thing I want to think about is how adorable Demetri is—or God forbid, who might want to bed him.
Brielle pops over wearing leggings with holographic scales drawn over them and a bright red bustier that she’s bursting right out of. She’s donned a long, red wig, and she happens to be holding a trident.
“Boo!” she shouts right in my face, and my mother pulls her aside, nearly depositing her in a planter. “Skyla, Emily wants to see you.”
Mom pushes her aside once again. “Not now, Brielle. We’re busy.”
I pull her right back and land her next to me. “What are you supposed to be, anyway?” I’m not too concerned about Em. I’m staying as far away from her and her Crayolas as I can tonight. I’ll take my future the way everyone else takes it—one big rotten surprise.
“A sea witch. You like?”
“It’s adorable,” my mother says with zero interest, her gaze still locked on the wicked trio before us. “You don’t think they’ve cast a spell on him, do you?”
I crane my neck in their direction. “He does seem awfully interested.”
Mom swats me. “Brielle, see if you can cast a spell and make sure I’m the only woman Demetri sees.”
“Mother!”
“Oh, Skyla.” She’s right back to swatting me. “I’m teasing, of course.” She sighs hard because clearly, she’s not. “But look at him. He looks impeccable tonight.”
Bree moans as she gazes his way as if she were swooning herself, so I take a cue from my mother and swat her.
“Bree, he is the king of evil and he’s not in the least bit attractive.”
“I’m not sure about that,” she muses. “I mean, I don’t know what he’s done, but tonight, for the first time, I can tell he’s definitely the father of Gage and Wesley. Something about his face is just different. Definitely cuter.”
“I see it now,” I say, stunned. “Not the cuter part, but the rest of it. That’s really weird. Maybe he’s wearing their faces like a Halloween mask? He is a shape shifter extraordinaire. For all we know, the Demetri we’re used to seeing is a ruse and he’s nothing but a big ball of dark energy.” I frown over at my mother. “BTW, that’s all fact and zero theory.”
Mom scoffs. “Well, FYI, he’s always been that attractive. The two of you are just now seeing it. He’s the same old Demetri. He simply got a haircut and is letting the scruff on his cheeks grow out like all the young men do these days. It’s quite a comely look on him. Don’t you agree?”
Another contraction hits me, this time hard and fast, and I let out a horrendous groan as my body tenses in a big ball of fire.
Mom nods, her focus still very much pinned on him. “I knew you’d come around, Skyla. You just can’t deny an
imal magnetism like that.”
Perfect. My mother thinks I’m lusting after Demetri of all people with a verbal show of appreciation of his naughty-hottie good looks.
Dominique wraps an arm around him as the three of them howl in laughter—probably at my mother. Thankfully, the music pumping from the speakers is so loud it quickly drowns them out.
Mom shudders. “I can’t take it anymore. I have to intervene. Those women aren’t interested in Demetri as a person. They’re simply enticed by his power or worse yet, they’re money-grubbers. I’d better get over there and save him. I’ll be doing everyone involved a favor.”
I roll my eyes at Bree. “Tad has money. I don’t see anyone hopping on pop to get their grubby little hands on that gold he’s got buried in his mouth.”
Bree nods past me. “I don’t know about that.”
I turn to find not one but two women dressed as seventeenth century harlots—oh, wait.
I’m about to head on over when another private earthquake rattles my belly, and this time it’s a nine point five on the Richter scale. I grab ahold of Bree’s arm and give a hard squeeze.
“Ouch, Skyla. I get it. I’m pissed, too. That man belongs to your mother, but that’s no reason to initiate your Celestra strength.”
I’m about to correct her, or howl at the top of my lungs—one or the other—when Chloe and Gage crop up like a couple of unwanted apparitions. Crap. I would have gladly taken anyone else.
Come to think of it, a couple of wicked apparitions would have been a welcome relief.
I bet I could have bribed one of them to find my mother.
Chloe is dressed as a naughty nurse in a tiny white dress and matching fishnets. It seems fitting. I’m sure the first thing she did with Gage during that throne room debacle was probe his every orifice with her tongue.
“Skyla!” Chloe’s eyes bulge with glee.
In truth, Gage’s eyes might be bulging with glee as well, but I refuse to look in his direction. It’s bad enough I can see him in my peripheral vision. He’s still dressed in his West football attire, ever the twin to Logan. But I don’t dare make eye contact with him.
Chloe’s chest gurgles with a laugh. “I’m in love with your costume. A knocked-up teen? A walking, taking, throwback Thursday is an ingenious idea. Don’t you think, Gage?”
“You look very nice, Skyla.” It comes out wooden.
My natural instincts take over and I turn my head the other way. It irks me to no end to have my name come from his mouth. He said it once in love way back when I believed him, and now it sounds as if he dips it in hostility and beats it down with hatred before it ever leaves his lips.
Bree grabs me by the shoulders. “Yes, well, I need to get this prego something to eat. Skyla likes to have a steady stream of donuts and Mexican food this go-round.”
Chloe purrs as if the thought of a donut could bring her to ecstasy, and judging by the fact she’s thin as a twig, it might have the power to do just that.
“Don’t forget Logan.” She winks. “Bree tells me the two of you are rattling the walls morning, noon, and night.” She shrugs. “I get it, though. All those hormones raging through your body. Five minutes ago, that was me. You should have seen this guy trying to satiate me. Mission impossible, but he tried—again and again and again and again. And lucky for us, we have a night nurse now—Emma.” She leans in close and whispers, “Enema. So, Gage and I have resumed our regular nightly lovemaking schedule.”
Gage tries to pull her away, but Chloe clamps her hand over mine and begins leading me along with them deeper into Marshall’s backyard.
“We bumped into Em and she insisted we drag your whale ass over to the prognosticating pit she’s settled in. She was really freaking out, like some human piñata who was about to explode. Wouldn’t that be fun, Messenger? Watching Emily bite the big one by way of detonating? I bet her bits and pieces would form one last picture spelling out your demise. Have you ever noticed she hasn’t drawn one good thing for you in all the years she’s known you?”
I’d let go of Chloe’s hand just so I wouldn’t have to listen to her rambling on, but the truth is, she’s moving so fast through the thicket of bodies, she’s like a sled dog getting me to the other side of the house at record speeds. And that’s exactly where I want to be. I want to find a nice, quiet, dark alcove and suffer in peace. And I don’t even care if Chloe heard me telepathically. I’m in so much damn pain I’m about to explode like a piñata myself. Hopefully not literally.
Another contraction hits and I squeeze the ever-living shit out of Chloe’s hand, crushing her bones as effectively as if a semi had run over them.
Skyla? You’re in labor, aren’t you? Her dark eyes grow in size as she attempts to give me a meager squeeze right back.
“No,” I grunt it out just as Gage leads us into a clearing. Honestly, I’m not even sure if he’s aware that Chloe and I are following him. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was walking at that heated clip just to escape his bride. But in typical Chloe fashion, she’s charging after him, relentless in her pursuit to wear him down. I wonder if that’s what’s finally happened? She wore him down. Like a stone that caves at the ceaseless dripping of water, eroding at the point of contact.
Chloe drops my hand like a hot mic. “Funny, Mess. You really are a riot.” She waves over at a small crowd gathered against the edge of the house. Emily sits at a round table with a throng of people awaiting her artistic diagnosis of their lives.
The south side of Marshall’s home is dark, save for the butterflies that float over to bless the darkness with their subtle illumination. And normally I would have whipped out my phone and taken a million pictures to show the boys, but I couldn’t care less if there were swarms of gnats clotting up the air to the point we were choking on them. I just need to find a ditch in the ground and lie in it.
Bree takes off to get Em. Chloe takes up Gage’s hand once again as she points out the cobalt spectacle in the sky, and I stagger off in the darkness looking for a good place to die—or hide out until midnight when I start to officially eviscerate Gage Oliver’s world.
“Skyla!” Bree shouts, and I turn my head as much as my neck will allow. “It’s starting! She says you can stand there, you’ll still see it.”
I turn and sigh as I watch a couple of girls hoisting what looks to be those large buckets my mother has strewn about filled with fake blood and apples. It would figure that bobbing for bloody apples would appeal to my mother’s good decorating senses. It’s clever, I’ll give her that.
A couple of birds spin overhead, Holden Kragger and Serena. They must sense something is afoot. After Ezrina banished them as her lab rats, they’ve been happily living at Marshall’s in his eaves. And just when I think I’ve met my limit of Kraggers, Emerson trots over.
“Hey,” she grunts it out. “I was helping Em out and she said I should watch you in the event you decided to bolt.”
I glance back to the girls moving more buckets of blood to the base of the house and note it’s Mia and Melissa.
Hey? If Melissa is here, who’s watching the kids?
Em heads to the base of the house with a mop and Ellis props up a ladder against the side of it.
“Oh God,” I moan. “I can see where this is headed.”
The south side of the house is predominantly a white wall with sparse windows. No balconies on this end or anything else that might obstruct Emily’s artistic expression.
The haunted music pumping from the speakers echoes over the area as Emily lets out a horrific howl and then gets right to work. Her body jerks and writhes and she dips the mop into the bloody bucket and quickly begins to desecrate the side of Marshall’s pristine home.
Emily grunts and groans, taking a break every now and again to let out a much-needed scream, much to Emerson’s stoned delight—and don’t think for a minute I can’t smell the reefer on her.
A couple of people come up from around the corner of the house with a large, d
ark instrument.
“Check that out.” Emerson swats my stomach and gets another contraction cooking at the ready. “That’s Ellis and Coop hauling out a freaking floodlight. This is going to be epic. As long as it’s not about me, I don’t give a shit what she conjures on that wall. And hey, before I forget, I’ve decided when the time comes, I don’t want to be a bird anymore. I want to head to paradise and be with my brother and mom.”
My heart wrenches at the thought. “Consider it noted. I’m hoping to see my mother soon. I’ll bring it up.” I groan hard as my body solidifies in a fit of terror. I take in a sharp breath through my nose and push it out quickly through my mouth. “In fact, I need you to go right now and get her.”
“I can’t get your mother, Skyla. No one can. She’s on her own timeline. You of all people should know that.”
“I’m familiar with her timeline.” And I don’t like it one freaking bit.
“So, what do you want me to do?” She asks just as that enormous floodlight ignites the night and blinds us. The growing crowd protests until Coop and Ellis turn it toward the wall, lighting up Em on that ladder as pale as a ghost.
“I think you should be the one to kill Chloe.” I glance around for the wicked witch, but I seem to have lost sight of both her and the dolt she’s leashed to. The contraction hits its zenith and I let out a mind-numbing howl before panting my way through it as it slowly subsides.
“All right, Skyla,” Emerson grunts. “I get it. You want to keep your hands clean. I’m just letting you know, Gage has a protective hedge around that bitch the likes of which Fort Knox has never seen. At most I think I can make her sick with poison.”
“Your brother can do that.” I nod up to the top of the house where both he and his paper-white bride sit perched, patiently watching the growing crowd below. “And judging by his proximity, I doubt Chloe is feeling too good right now. Besides, Gage threatened me to keep Holden away from her. He is protective about his favorite monster. I guess I couldn’t put the protective hedge past him.” My heart breaks all over again at the thought of him wasting a perfectly good protective hedge. “Wait on the poison. I’d hate for Gage to get his jollies off in some sick way, trying to get me back.” Especially when I’m about to get him back in a very big way. “Sometimes the greatest form of torment is to let people live the way they want to live. And with Chloe by his side, he’s bound to feel every ounce of misery life has to offer.”
All Hail the King (Celestra Forever After Book 6) Page 54