A dark-haired girl pops up from behind my mother.
“Coming through!” Kresley whistles. Her eyes narrow in on Skyla and Laken. “Messenger—Anderson.” She scowls. “So very nice to see you.”
For whatever reason my mother has taken Kresley Fisher under her wing. Mom went to school with her father, and this somehow equaled an obligation to more or less adopt her now that she’s attending Host.
“It’s Oliver and Stewart,” Skyla corrects, and I see my mother’s jaw tighten. “Both Laken and I were cheerleaders.”
“Damn good ones.” Logan gives a quick wink, and my gut cinches. I’m not too into the idea of him flirting with my wife. Although, in his defense, he was probably trying to defuse my mother’s acrid comment.
Liam helps himself to the feast laid out before us of roasted potatoes, sweet potato pie, grilled hen, and buttered asparagus.
“I think cheerleaders are most necessary,” Liam declares, stabbing his fork across his plate at random. “So thank you, Skyla, and thank you to your beautiful friend for contributing so valuably to society.”
Kresley gives an audible groan while averting her eyes. Wes left her for Laken, and she outright can’t stand Skyla, so she’s not too concerned about offending either one of them.
“Here, here.” Logan lifts his glass. “To cheerleaders everywhere.”
Mom gets that strained look on her face like she does just before she unleashes a verbal assault. “Rumor has it there’s an opening at the morgue.” She wiggles her shoulders at my father, proving to all at the table she’s capable of derailing the conversation when needed. I’m proud of her. She may have turned the pot to boil, but she jumped right out of the water before it got too hot.
“The position has been filled.” Dad raises his own glass in a mock toast. “A young man by the name of Revelyn stopped by. He’s working on his degree in mortuary sciences, so I gave him the position on an apprentice basis. You might know him. He’s a junior at Host. I believe he goes by the nickname Rev.”
“You’ve taken an intern! That will save an entire salary from going to waste.” Mom is thrilled to hear my father took on a volunteer to fill a paying position. Things have been a little tight around here for the last few months.
“Rev?” Skyla looks over a moment. “Isn’t the guy that hangs out in front of our building named Rev?”
I glance to Dad. “Does this guy look like a castoff from every biker show you’ve ever seen?”
“Indeed he does.” Dad’s glasses slide down his nose. “Is he a friend of yours?”
“Not really. Skyla and I had a run in with him.” I would have sworn on my life he was going to knife us that night.
Skyla’s fingers slither over her arm, and only then do I notice she’s itching like mad.
She cinches back. “His full name is Revelyn? That’s like one letter away from a girl’s name. No wonder he’s all whips and chains. I guess it hasn’t been easy.”
“If anyone has major compensation issues, it’s that dude. Be careful,” I tell my father. “I’d lock the floor safe when he’s around.”
“He’s an exceptional worker,” Dad continues. “He had Dr. Booth on his application as a recommendation.”
Skyla and Laken exchange glances.
“Did I say something wrong?” Dad is genuinely concerned.
“No.” Laken grabs ahold of her drink like she needs it to steady herself. “My mother has recently started dating Dr. Booth. I had just asked Skyla about him this afternoon. I’ve met him, but I wanted another opinion. I’d hate to see my mother get hurt.”
Mom’s mouth opens wide. “Your mother is the one? It’s been the talk of the island that Eugene is seeing some young, hot thing.” She fans her napkin in Laken’s direction. “His divorce became final last summer.”
“You don’t say?” Dad is stunned by the news. “It seems they’d been married for at least as long as we have.”
“Divorce happens,” Mom chimes with a little too much glee. “You know what they say, most marriages end within the first year.”
And how does that relate to Dr. Booth? Crap. It’s clear whose marriage she’s referencing.
“Affairs happen, too.” Kresely swills her ice water in my direction. “I’m the product of one. I should know.” She licks her lips with the promise of having her own.
Skyla knocks her knee into mine, and my legs beg for attention again. I give several hard scratches and still no relief in sight.
“This marriage is built to last.” I pick up Skyla’s hand and kiss it. If only some silly statistic were all Skyla and I had to worry about. Demetri and his demented smile blink through my brain.
“You mind?” Liam is less than amused by our public show of affection. “Some of us are still nursing a wounded ego.”
“Oh?” Mom’s attention is piqued. “You and your little girlfriend are over already?”
“Afraid so.” Liam piles half the bird onto his plate. “Turns out Michelle and I were just a flash in the pan.”
Logan scoffs.
I feel for the guy. I’m not so sure I like him hanging out on the sidelines waiting for Skyla to fall into his arms. Maybe he’s the one who should be seeing Michelle? It’s clear she’s still into him.
“What happened?” Skyla is on the edge of her seat, salivating for details.
“Typical stuff.” Logan shakes his head over at Liam. “No big deal.”
“You’re keeping something from us.” Skyla bubbles with laughter. “If it were no big deal then why don’t you spill it?”
“It was something she said.” Liam mumbles through a mouthful of food.
“Michelle has been known to be a bit mouthy.” Skyla nods into Laken. “She was one of the mean girls in high school.” She pins Kresley with a look, and Kres casually waves her middle finger at her under the radar.
“You shouldn’t judge people, Skyla.” Mom snips between bites of her asparagus. “It’s unladylike and most unbecoming.”
And why did I think dinner here was a good idea?
A brisk knock erupts at the door, and I voluntarily rise to get it. The porch light is on, and I spot a familiar frame outside the window and freeze.
“Who could that be?” Mom pulls back the curtain revealing Wes standing there like the jackass he is.
Shit.
“My God.” Mom’s hand flies to her mouth. “He looks just like you.”
“It must be Wesley.” Dad motions for me to let him in. Wes is yet another loser Dad has enlisted to work in the morgue although that was a one-time deal and he happened to be hovering over Ezrina at the time.
I open the door and glare at my half-brother. “What?”
“I came to see for myself exactly how busy you are.” He leans into the house. “Is that Laken?” Wes wanders in without waiting for an invite.
“By all means.”
We head into the kitchen, and Laken’s face gives the walls a run for their whitewashed money.
“I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.” Wes doesn’t take his eyes off hers. He’s mesmerized. There’s a stark sadness written on his face that I’ve seen on mine. I wore grief like a mask that long weekend Logan was with Skyla. I realize my three day heartbreak is nothing in comparison to what Logan must feel, but, nevertheless, it was real, and it hurt like all hell.
“Mom this is Wesley—Demetri’s son.” I had to restrain myself from adding other son.
“Dear God in heaven.” She rises, unsteady on her feet. “You’re the spitting image of one another.”
“I can tell the difference.” Laken scoots back from the table.
“So can I.” Kresley goes over and gives Wes a hard embrace.
“I think I’d better be going.” Laken nearly trips as she rises from her chair.
“No, please, stay.” Wes glances around the room full of concerned faces. “Laken and I dated once. It didn’t end well.” He gives a parting wave. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave you to your dinner.�
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“I insist you both stay.” Mom barrels right over Wesley’s apology. “Please, Wesley, I’m very curious to know more about you.”
I look to Laken and shake my head with a silent apology.
“If Emma insists.” Laken scoots her seat next to Skyla as we make room for one more.
The meal goes on with Mom peppering Wes with an assault of questions and the rest of us listening in while filling the house with uncomfortable silence.
Logan clears his throat. And here we go.
“So, Wes—why don’t you tell us all about your plans to take down the Nephilim.”
And he thinks that tactic is going to work because?
Wes leans back in his seat, his fork still raised with a golden potato crowning the tip.
“I’m not going to take anybody down.” He pumps out a dry smile. “Gage is.”
Fuck.
Skyla starts clawing at her arms, and I scoot my seat back to rake over my legs.
“What’s going on?” Dad demands. “Why are the two of you itching like mad? Skyla, let me see that arm.”
She extends herself to him, and he gives a knowing nod. “Gage.” He motions for my hand, and I give it. My skin is covered with spots all the way up my sleeve. “Scabies.”
“What?” Skyla and I say in unison.
Mom lets out a little cry. “I knew that rat hole was a den for disease.”
“Where did you get your mattress?” Dad looks from Skyla to me for an answer.
The story of how she and Ellis hauled it from some back alley pops to mind.
Skyla and I remain quiet.
Needless to say, dinner disbands quickly.
In some respects, scabies was a Godsend.
I shake my head at the thought. Only in my world.
Liam offers to drop Laken and Kresley off at the dock while Mom and Dad clean up in the kitchen. Mom insisted we spend the night and produced a bottle of quelling lotion for each of us to douse ourselves in.
“Aren’t you two cute?” Logan grins at us from the bottom of the stairs as Skyla and I head down to say goodnight. We’re covered from head to toe with the chalky solution that’s dried to a clay-like consistency over our skin.
“What are you up to?” I bump shoulders with him as we head back into the kitchen.
“Just going over some paperwork in my room. I’ll stay out of your way.”
“What’s up with the redecorating?” I offer Skyla a pumpkin cookie before tossing one to Logan.
“Yes, I’m dying to know. A tea room, really?” She takes a disapproving bite.
“Wait, I thought you went to see him this morning?” Actually I’m stunned to hear she didn’t. Skyla and Logan are still pretty close, and I get it, but it gets under my skin more than it should.
“About that…” Skyla shrinks as if she’s afraid to tell us something. “I sort of got hit by a car on the way.”
“What?” I take her in my arms and pull back enough to examine her for injuries.
“Skyla?” Dad comes barreling over. “Is this true?”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Logan is pissed.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Logan may be pissed but I’m incensed. “This is a huge deal, Skyla. You could have been killed.”
“But I wasn’t. I wasn’t even really hit. It was more like I saw him coming and passed out in fright. He may have tapped me. I don’t know—it all happened so fast, I was trying to dart around some woman with a stroller, and her baby was throwing gang signs up at me, and the next thing I knew Chloe occupied my mind then boom I was on my back.”
“You said he?” My blood begins to boil. “If I find this guy, there’ll be another body in the morgue come morning. What’s his name?”
“Well—” Her voice grows small. “You might have heard of him before— does the name Brody Bishop ring a bell?”
“Chloe’s brother.” Logan shakes his head. “So he’s back in town, and the first thing he does is mow you down with his car?” He folds his arms flat across his chest.
“It was an accident, I swear.” Skyla is quick to defend him. “He tried to take me to the hospital, but I refused.”
“Why would you refuse?” My mother’s voice shrills to the ceiling, and I warm at her enthusiastic response. It confirms the fact she does care about my wife. Maybe now we can all move on.
“Because I’m fine.” Skyla snatches another cookie off the tray. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m headed to bed.” She gives a brief wave and makes her way upstairs.
“Gage, you can have Liam’s room since he’s not home.” Mom takes the cookies back and seals them with cellophane.
“No thanks. I’ve got a bed.” And it looks as if we’re not moving on as quick as I had hoped.
“You can’t sleep next to Skyla. You’ll reinfect one another.” She motions to my father to uphold her argument. I get it. I’m her only son, and she’s not crazy about the idea of me spending the night in my childhood bed with my wife. But it doesn’t mean I’ll cave to her demands.
“We’ll risk it.”
“They’ll be fine.” My father assures. “Interesting to see Wesley here tonight.” Dad steps in and examines me as if I’ve got something to confess. I swear he always knows when I’m keeping something to myself. I can’t get away with anything around him. I’m not sure I’d want to.
“What should we do with the mattress?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Burn it.” He bears into me with those determined eyes of his. How I wish I were from him and not some monster that’s hell-bent on hurting those I love. I know my reasons for joining the Barricade, and I know what waits for me if I try to leave. The threat goes off in my mind as clear as day. Then the heart of one you hold dear will turn against you—and everything you think you stand for. As much as I hold Skyla dear, I’m pretty sure she’s not subject to this curse. The threat feels a bit more external than Skyla. I wonder if that could be this sweet man standing before me, and my heart breaks at the idea. But, then again, I’m never leaving the Barricade. Tragedy averted.
“And”—Dad goes on—“even if you don’t wish to talk about it. I rather enjoyed having your brother at the table with us.” His eyes close a moment as if he just expressed a deep sentiment, and I think he did. “He’s family Gage. We can no more deny that than refuse ourselves air to breathe.” He pats me on the shoulder. “Whatever you do, don’t let him pull you down toward the wicked. You, my son, are good. You are for the light. Don’t let power and money seduce you. The sacred scriptures say, what good is it to gain the whole world and lose your mortal soul?” A sad smile expands over his lips. “None, my son. Absolutely none.” He gives my face a gentle slap and heads on upstairs with my mother.
“Words of wisdom.” Logan shoulders up next to me as we stare vacantly at the open mouth of the stairwell.
“You know I’d never do that, right?”
“Do I?” He mock shoots me as he walks backward toward the fridge.
It looks like everyone is onto me. Maybe it’s time to prove them wrong.
Or not.
I head upstairs to make love to Skyla regardless of our chalky appeal.
There’s no better way to end the day than buried deep inside her.
My mother’s words about the first year of marriage come back to haunt me.
Skyla and I will beat that statistic with our hands tied behind our backs—our legs coiled around each other.
We have to.
Logan
It’s well after two in the morning, and the steady rhythm of rain tickling my window is usually enough to lull me to sleep, but knowing that Gage is down the hall with Skyla makes me want to stay awake in the event she screams for help. Not that I believe for a minute Gage would intentionally hurt her. Although, after watching him enter into a covenant with darkness, it does beg the question what the fuck is he thinking? This is different than me pledging for the Counts. He took human libations, Celestra no less, with the head devil hi
mself—his father. Nope, this is far more intimate an error than the one I ever made. Gage is going to deal a mortal blow either to the Nephilim or himself—both most likely.
Skyla. She’s all I think about—all I dream about. I’m not sure why but I’ve had an entire slew of erotic dreams starring my once upon a wife. A dull smile comes and goes. The dreams have been like a gift from above. It’s as if I get to live the life I’ve dreamed of for so long and ironically I get to live that life between the hours of midnight and six a.m. I feel guilty as hell when I look at Gage, but it’s not like I’m orchestrating these nocturnal fantasies—not consciously anyway. I close my eyes and beg sleep to come for me, beg Skyla to take me, have me any way she deems fit. During last night’s jaunt we were at the Falls of Virtue reliving that epic first outing we had there, only this time things took a turn for the pornographic.
A light knock vibrates against the door before Skyla peers in.
“Everything okay?” I turn my lamp to the lowest setting and invite her inside. I swallow hard trying to swat the residue of lust I have for her out of the room. Not working.
Her hair is piled over her head in a messy bun. She’s wearing her West cheerleading uniform that shows off her perfect body. Her arms and legs are powdered white, and it makes it look like she’s covered with moon dust. Skyla is beautiful, breathtaking, and far too delicious looking to be in my room with those barely there clothes on. “You always wear that thing to bed? Never mind—not sure I want an answer.”
“Just here. I don’t have anything else, and my jeans were just making this stupid rash worse.” She pulls the chair over from my desk and takes a seat next to me. “He’s gone.”
“Who’s gone?” My eyes drift to her pale legs, coated with powder, and it makes this all that more surreal—Skyla in my bedroom, sitting next to me with her legs parting in a peek-a-boo manner.
“Gage. He said he couldn’t sleep that he might take a shower later, and sure enough I woke up to the sound of running water, but when I finally broke in he wasn’t there.” She shrugs looking an awful lot like a little girl, and I try not to perseverate on the fact she indirectly implied that she and Gage shower together. Then again, at Harrison’s apartment, it’s probably more of a safety measure.
The Dragon and the Rose Page 6