Gah! Doesn’t he see this isn’t the time to invoke his skills of luring people deeper into nonsensical conversations? Doesn’t he have a shut off valve when he leaves the office? Do any of them have a shut off valve?
“I was thinking along the lines of overpopulation.” Tad spins his fork as if making a valid point. “Humanitarian issues are the hot topic at all those motivational meetings I’ve been attending at Althorpe.”
Isis giggles, and her mammaries give the dinner guests a circular wave that says we’re cage-free today! I bet she’s not wearing underwear either.
Cooper’s dad engages Tad about his work at Althorpe, and things roll into a normal murmur over at the senior side of the room.
Brody and Cooper start in on a conversation, and a part of me wants to warn Coop about exactly who he’s talking to. For all we know, Brody is acting as the enemy’s eyes. Poor, stupid Brooke for falling for a Bishop. She should have run into Liam’s arms while she had the chance. Rumor has it, Lexy and Michelle are now going toe to toe for the spare Oliver. Not that I can blame them. The Oliver boys are made of all things yummy.
I hear Logan has news for me. I glance up at Marshall.
So he does. Marshall isn’t the slightest bit amused.
He says he’s going to show me something tonight. Will you be there?
No. Marshall closes his eyes with resolute boredom. I will not be present when the Pretty One shows you something.
I scoff at the innuendo. I assure you it will be most chaste.
Marshall lifts a brow. There was a point when I could no longer stand his mental musings regarding his time with you. It seems he has the entire span of those three days set to memory and has the uncanny ability to revisit each and every moment in detail. The bathtub scene seemed a most necessary intermission to your celebratory romp.
Kill me. My face heats as it runs through various shades of crimson.
Again. Tonight will be chaste.
Just the thought of Logan hitting the replay button on a loop grieves me. I know he misses me. I know it’s difficult for him to see me with Gage. And the thought of me making it crystal clear I want Gage to live a long happy life right by my side must gut him. Doesn’t he know that death is horrible? Of course, he does, he’s knee deep in it.
I look to my sweet, handsome husband who’s embroiled in a conversation about Host football. He seems so normal, so very Gage. How could he possibly be evil?
Mom stands and begins to clear the table. Laken offers to help, so I feel obligated to do so myself. Deep down I dislike the remedial work that comes with events like these. Mia and Melissa jump up with enthusiasm and begin shuttling dishes to and fro. Clearly it’s their gift. They love serving and cleaning and all kinds of boring domestic detail. Maybe it’s best that Gage and I don’t have our own place just yet. In less than six months it would probably be cordoned off as a Hazmat scene.
Laken leans in. “So what do you think of my mom?”
“Beautiful, sweet, thoughtful. She doesn’t have two kids tucked under her shirt, so already I want to be her when I grow up.”
“Very funny.” She gives a wry smile as I lead her to the hall. “All that beauty and talent, all of the amazing love she gives me and Lacey was wasting away in those wicked tunnels.”
“Damn Counts.”
“That’s right. Get angry and stay that way.” She pulls me further from the party. “Another thing that has to go away is the Steel Barricade. Or—”
“We’re fucked.”
“You said it not me. Get angry about that, too.” She turns to head back. “Oh, and Skyla? If you’re not angry now just wait until tonight. Coop let me know exactly what it is that Logan is going to show you. I think you’ll quickly see how corrupt the Steel Barricade and their leader can be.” Her eyes cut to the dining room when she says their leader.
“Are you talking about Gage?”
“If the shoe fits.” She gives a hard sniff. “But I guess any shoe would fit. He is a Fem.”
My blood runs cold at how cruel she’s being. I shrug it off. She’s still so hurt by Wes, she can’t see straight. Gage is just a fresh slap in the face each time she sees him.
But it does beg the question.
What has my husband done now?
After a gluttonous amount of pie, the guests leave in droves.
“Are you sure?” Mom calls after them. “I have party games! With prizes!”
But the small army dutifully trots toward the exit. I think Mom should thank her lucky stars that this fiasco is over. Perhaps we all should.
I give Coop a quick hug goodnight. “Be strong, Skyla.” He says it sweet, almost mournful as if I’ve experienced a death in the family and just don’t know it yet.
“Don’t worry, I will be.” If I’m about anything, I’m about false assurances. Whatever it is Logan is going to show me, Coop is already apprised of. I’d grill him, but there’s no point since I’ll be seeing it firsthand in just a few hours.
Laken lunges at me.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been coming off a little rough around the edges lately. I just want this madness to end.”
“Not a big deal. And you were right. I need someone around who’s willing to kick me in the rear when I need it. Thank you for being there for me.” I pull back, and Gage nods from across the room. “I’m not sure what tonight holds, but I know I’ll need someone to process it with. Coffee soon?”
“Yes, please.” She lands her cool palm over my cheek. “You can do this. Tonight will test you, but you’re strong, Skyla. I’ve seen this.”
“I don’t know how I’ll get away from Gage for a while.”
“You’ll think of something. You always do.” They take off and melt into the fog with a wave.
“And you always leave me to my own devices!” I call after her playfully.
“Unlike me.” Bree offers a hug from behind, strangling me with the crook of her arm.
“Hey”—I pull her in and whisper—“I need to be somewhere for a little while, and I can’t tell Gage. Will you help keep my husband busy?” Bree is on a very small list of girls I would ever pose that question to. For sure Emily and her so-happy-to-part-for-you-legs have long since been crossed off.
“Nice. I bet you’re headed out to get one of those buy one get three free thongs they’re selling at the Naughty Hawty. The big sale started at nine, so, if you leave now, you might still get some of the good stuff. Oh, and their Halloween clearance is an additional half off! Can you pick me up a tail and a pair of horns for me?”
I glance to Gage when she says that last part. Perfect. I’ve conditioned myself to think the worst of him.
“So what do you think you two will do? I’d hate to run into him downtown.”
I try to will her to say she’s keeping him at home.
“Staying home.”
I blink a satisfied smile. I hope to God that’s one of my new budding powers.
“We’ll play cards out back and chill. I might even let him win a few times to get him in a good mood for you.” She gives a hard wink.
“You really are a great friend.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“Don’t you know what?” Gage scoops me into his arms as his subtle cologne envelops me. Every part of me knows I can live a happy life just like this, sans the deep dark secrets and Fem DNA.
“Oh, nothing. You mind if I borrow the truck? I sort of have a secret mission that has your name written all over it.” Sadly.
“Tonight?” Gage pulls back worried for me because he’s a good husband who doesn’t want his wife running around at all hours getting hacked to death by a serial killer who might just be looking for a midnight special of his own.
“Right now.” I pluck the keys from his pocket and hike up on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Get ready, because tonight is going to be anything but vanilla.”
I give Bree a quick wink.
That twin bed of ours may be small and squeaky, but nothing,
and I mean nothing, stands in the way of me getting a piece of Oliver each and every night.
I race down to the truck and speed off into the split pea soup of a night. I’m finally going to get my answers.
Logan texted earlier and asked me to meet him at Whitehorse. It’s strange, but it sort of makes sense since Ezrina and Nev have taken up residence in the lab. Shoot. Speaking of Nev, I forgot to feed and free Holden.
All sorts of insane thoughts run through my mind as I drive to the house that Logan built for me. But I can’t for the life of me even remotely figure out what Logan has to show me. I pull in behind Logan’s truck and give a little laugh because my two favorite trucks have reunited. The Mustang is still at the Oliver’s in pieces, no thanks to Chloe’s desire to put a dent in my rear panel. I’d like to put a dent in her rear panel by having her sit on a spirit sword. I’ll have to ask Marshall for an arsenal of the warped weapons for Christmas.
The wind picks up, and the fog swirls and dances, and, oh, my God, it’s those invisible dancing beasts from the Transfer!
“Nothing should surprise me anymore,” I whisper as I gaze out at the old, dead Counts that have a hankering for the seventeenth century. They’re swirling and twirling in their oversized hoop skirts, men in dapper clothes that look as if they belong in a Dolce and Gabbana ad.
I hop out, and the icy chill freezes me to the bone.
“Skyla.” My name sings in the breeze. I look toward a hedge of evergreens that stretch their fingers to God and note the branches waving erratically. The branches—the Paragon coastline penciled in behind them—blur and warp over the scene. I recognize the anomaly as the wormhole Chloe usually crawls out of. How fitting a wormhole for the worm. A bubbling laughter emits from that direction, and it’s unmistakably that of the spineless scoundrel herself—Chloe.
Then, just like, that the trees return to their crisp definition as the fog fills in the arid space. I make a dash for the porch and ring the bell, running my fingers over the words on the arch above the door. Logan’s love for me lingers in my heart. I’ll never lose it. Just hearing Marshall tell me about how Logan replays those intimate hours we shared makes my heart ache that much more for him. It’s heartbreaking knowing that will most likely never happen again. After all, I’ve enlisted Ezrina in concocting something that will help Gage extend his days. And a part of me wonders at what cost to human kind that will be.
The door swings wide.
Speaking of the witch.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” I say to both Ezrina and Nev who usher me in from the cold.
“We were just leaving to see a movie.” Nevermore looks at me with a long face you might give someone who just received a grave diagnosis.
“Okay.” The word extends from me with trepidation as they step into the night. “You two have fun! Hey”—I extend my fingers toward Ezrina—“any progress on that formula for Gage?”
Her lids hang low as she takes a long, contemplative breath. “It appears your only hope is your mother, dear child.” Her lips cut a thin line, and I’m not sure how to interpret it, but oddly it seems she’s smiling. I shake it off. Gage’s death is nothing to smile about.
“I will.” My heart breaks at the prospect of Ezrina being unable to help. Both she and I know how futile talking to my mother will be. “Where’s Logan?” I call as they make their way into the night.
“Downstairs!” Nev shouts back. “And Skyla?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry.” He turns and ushers Ezrina into the mist. The dancing ghostlike creatures gather around the two of them in a cheerful display of affection as Nev and Ezrina break into friendly chatter. Figures. She’s like a rock star to the underworld. I bolt the door behind them and head through the kitchen, down the secret stairwell.
Logan created a masterpiece when he built this place. Thank God for the lab. The morgue would have worked for a while as far as Ezrina is concerned, but this place is exactly what she needs. Not to mention there isn’t a dead body for miles down here. Well, with the exception of Logan, and he’s safely tucked in a vault floating in blue keeping solution. It shatters me to see him like that, but in a strange way he’s a thing of beauty, a sight to behold even without the privilege of air in his lungs.
“Logan?” My voice carries for miles down the white, glossy corridors.
“Over here.”
It’s coming from the left, so I head in that direction.
“Am I getting warm?” I tease.
I wonder what he’s up to? God, what if Ezrina accidentally botched some experiment, and I find an entire cage full of Chloe doppelgangers? What else would Nev be sorry about?
“You’re always hot, Skyla,” Logan calls out as if he’s right behind me.
I bypass the vault, and it’s not until I’m ten feet out do I realize the door is sitting wide open.
“Logan?” I head back and find him standing inside the dark, cushioned room. The ethereal blue glow of the glass tube where his body resides is lit up, and it gives the small space a butterfly room effect. “Here you are!” I throw my arms around him. “Happy Thanksgiving. You should be extra thankful you dodged a Landon dinner party. It was a disaster. But what’s new, right?” It feels good like this. Like we’ve gone back in time, and it’s just Logan and me against the Counts, only it’s much more complicated than that in just about every way. “Did you get enough to eat?”
“I wasn’t too hungry tonight.”
“Sorry to hear it. Hey, Chloe was giggling out in the woods. What do you think she has to laugh about?” I drop my purse to the ground to better wrap my arms around him.
“I can take a guess.” He nods toward the glass coffin, and I turn to admire the beauty of his body spinning in the sad solution—but I’m met with a wash of blue water. The tank is missing its favorite occupant. What my eyes long to see simply isn’t there.
The tank is empty.
“Where’s your body?” The words draw out of me in a panic.
“He took it.”
Gage
“Twenty-one,” I say as Bree scoops up the deck and reshuffles. Drake has the bonfire lit, and I’ll be the first to admit it’s cozy down here away from Tad and his annoying analysis of my mattress moves. Who the heck says those things at the dinner table? On Thanksgiving no less. And to think I missed my mother’s cooking for that shoe leather I gnawed on for an hour straight makes me want to knock my head through a window. Mom said that we could swing by anytime and load up on leftovers, and believe me, I plan to. I was hoping Skyla and I could head over tonight. I can’t remember a holiday that I didn’t spend with my family, but Skyla is my family now, and being with her is enough. Except for this very moment, she’s nowhere to be found. I finally got it out of Bree. Apparently there’s some big lingerie sale at the mall, and Skyla ran off to load up on peek-a-boo under armor. Just the thought brings a goofy grin to my face because I know who it’s really for.
The sound of giggling comes from the woods, and both Brielle and I turn around.
“What’s that?” Bree places her hand over her eyes as if to stave off the moonlight.
“More like who.” I’m quick to hop on my feet. “I’ll go check it out.” I won’t lie. I fully except to find Bishop. She hasn’t let up on her pursuit of me. For as often as I’ve been a nightly visitor down in the Transfer, she just as often has made it a habit to jump out of the shadows without a stitch of clothing on. Chloe is tenacious. Of course, she apologizes each and every time, giving some lame excuse about expecting Wesley, but I know for a fact they’re not on great terms. They seem to tolerate one other the way two people might be forced to if they were stranded on a deserted island. A part of me feels as if I’m deserted on that same island right along with them. I much prefer this island and Skyla as my mate.
The giggling picks up, followed by the distinct murmur of a man.
“Who’s there?” I call out and hold back a laugh because it’s the opening to just about every horror movie I’ve
ever seen. Ironically enough, I’m not afraid of anything. I used to have a thin thread of fear in me over the most ridiculous things, but now that Demetri has revealed himself to be my father, now that my powers have dwarfed that of anyone in the Nephilim kingdom, I feel strangely unafraid of just about anything. Maybe that’s because there is nothing greater to fear than the monster I’ve become. That image of me handing over Logan’s lifeless body to Wes blinks through my mind.
More giggles, more murmurs—the sound of pleasurable moans. Maybe it’s none of my business who’s back here doing God knows what, and I have a feeling I know what.
“Hey!” I shout. “Who the hell’s there?”
“Shit!” The girl hisses, and I can hear the rustle of zippers and the scuffle of feet. “Gage?” Mia walks out of the shadows with her skin rinsed blue from the sleepy-eyed moon.
“What’s going on?” I head into the woods a little deeper to find the kid she’s messing around with—who I very much plan on scaring the shit out of—but it’s no kid. It’s Rev.
“What the hell?”
“I believe you’re repeating yourself.” He’s resting his foot against the tree with a beer in one hand. “Look. I just came to hang with my dog. Mia was keeping me company. No harm, no foul.”
“Dude, you don’t hang out with a kid alone in the woods in the middle of the night. She’s like thirteen—have some freaking respect.”
“I’m turning sixteen!” she cries. “I’m not a kid. And I don’t care what you say.” She pokes me hard in the gut. “You’re not my dad. I can see whoever I want.”
“He’s older than you. Shouldn’t you be interested in boys your own age?” God, she’s almost sixteen? That’s how old Skyla was when I met her. Mia is growing up way too fast, much like my own little sister. If I found Harrison and Giselle in the woods, I wouldn’t be half this nice. I’d probably have to rip his balls off for safekeeping.
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