“It’s your anniversary.” Her shoulders sag in annoyance. “Make him a pizza.”
“You know?”
Her eyes close a moment. “He mentioned it last night.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure I like Lexy and Logan having late night conversation about past relationships, especially since Logan and I happen to be in the past tense. “Thank you. I think I will.”
Lexy follows me into the kitchen and pulls out a pan while I pluck some dough from the proofer.
Logan and Lexy. I’ve always hated the way their names sound so cute and perky together. Logan and Skyla. There. That sounds refined, dignified, stately even. Gage and Skyla. My lips twist. Right about now it sounds sneaky—sinister even. The serpent and the butterfly. Now there’s a tragedy in the making. My heart wrenches just thinking of Gage that way.
“Wake up, Messenger,” Lex barks. “I’ve said here you go like sixteen times.”
She’s shakes a bag of shredded cheese in my face. Is Lexy actually helping me?
“Why are you being so nice?” I’m not in the mood to try and decipher her kindness.
“Because we’re friends.” Her lips twitch as she looks down at the pizza she’s constructing.
“Since when?” I quickly toss on a variety of Logan’s favorite toppings, extra olives and pepperoni.
“Since high school.” She takes both our masterpieces and throws them in the oven. “I was just thinking about how much fun we had.” She scowls as the lie bleeds from her lips. Lexy is pretty in an I’ll-slit-your-throat kind of way. Another reason I’m not crazy about her wiggling her way back into Logan’s life. “I know we were a little rough on you, but you were new—blonde and beautiful—and from snotty L.A. What did you expect?”
We’re friends, and I’m beautiful? I’d laugh in her face, but right now I’m more tempted to put our so-called friendship to the test.
“I guess you’re right. Everyone is entitled to razz the new kid a little. No harm no foul.” Just a missing limb—although in all fairness, the bitch squad wasn’t responsible for that one. “Say”—I step in close, backing her into the counter—“I’ve always wondered about that secret of yours. You know, binding a Fem. I’ve always thought you were so cool because you were the only one who knew how to do it.”
“Oh, that.” She fans her hand and laughs like it were both cute and presently unimportant. Little does she know I’m married to a Fem who could use a little binding. I hold back a smile at the thought. Binding Gage sounds perfectly erotic.
“So tell me—I’m dying to know. What is it? Some kind of mind trick? I’m going to bind you now…” I make my voice quiver like a ghost. It is kind of fun just hanging out with Lexy, getting silly in the kitchen while making pizzas.
The smile slides right off her face. “Why is everything such a joke to you? It’s no wonder Logan practically ran out the door as soon as you arrived. He probably knew you’d laugh in his face about the whole anniversary thing.”
“I would not!” More like weep in his face.
“Get real, Messenger, everyone knows you can’t take anything seriously.” She starts to stalk off, and I cut her off at the pass. “Out of my way.” She tries to push her way past me, and I pin her to the refrigerator with a bang.
“Is this serious enough for you?” I’m all done shitting around. Lexy knows how to bind a Fem, and by the time our conversation is through, so will I.
Her knee comes up and kicks me in the gut, knocking the wind out of me in the process. I slap my hand over a long handled knife and snatch her back by the hair with the other. Lexy twists and turns until I pin her over the counter with my chest, the blade to her throat.
“How’s this?”
“Fuck you, Messenger.”
“It’s Oliver. And it’s about damn time you started treating me with a little respect. I don’t know what that we’re-so-friendly routine was about back there, but I’m willing to overlook whatever you have planned down the pike if you tell me how to bind a Fem.”
She hocks back and spits—warm and salty, right over my face.
“Shit.” I squeeze my eyes tight a moment until the world comes back into focus. “Is it really that hard for you to cooperate with a knife to your neck?”
Lexy gives me a firm shove and sends me flying into the refrigerator face first—for a second, I actually see stars.
“You were never going to cut me.” She pants while speeding toward the exit. “You’re too nice for that.”
“Yeah? Who do you think cut your friend?”
She gets to the door and turns around. “Excuse me?”
Crap. Should I really be admitting to a homicide I committed over four years ago?
“You’re the one who killed Chloe?” Her mouth falls open.
“I never said that.” I can practically hear the police sirens now. Double crap. Now I know exactly how I’ll be spending my one-year anniversary with Logan—in jail, booked on murder charges. God, it’s as if Logan and I are jinxed. And it took me this long to figure that out? I grind my teeth at the thought.
A dull smile rides up her face. “By the way, Messenger, I just taught you how to bind a Fem. Happy anniversary.” She turns and mumbles, “I can’t believe she’s the one who killed Chloe Bishop.”
Hell. I place my palm over my forehead in an effort to cool myself. The oven timer goes off, and I pull out our pizzas. Mine is a perfect homage to pepperoni—so magnificent in scope that nary a strand of mozzarella is visible. But Lexy’s…
“Oh, my God,” I whisper as my hand lands over my chest. She’s made a heart out of julienned red peppers and inside it reads L + S. It’s perfectly romantic. And, if I didn’t know better, I’d think it were a friendly gesture.
“Hey, beautiful.” Logan barrels in with his arms loaded full of buns and hot dogs all piled on an oversized box of napkins. He comes over and stares down at the pizzas with me. “You did remember.”
“Of course.” I don’t hesitate wrapping my arms around his neck. Even ex-husbands are entitled to one sincere hug on what would have been our anniversary—although I hardly consider him an ex. “But in all fairness, Lexy made the clever pizza. I made the one on the left that’s going to sponsor a peperoni apocalypse in your digestive track.”
“Lexy?” He looks as baffled as I am.
“Don’t look so surprised. She told me all about that heart-to-heart you had last night.”
“She did?” He looks a little less baffled.
“She hates me by the way. So just know each time you spend a single moment with her, a little part of me dies.” That’s probably a little too much honesty, but I blame Lexy for irritating more than my retina.
He bounces his nose off mine before pulling me into a nice strong hug. Logan smells like clovers mixed with fresh cut wood. I inhale his scent and hold it in my lungs, already high off the man I once called my husband for three short days.
“Is it wrong of me to secretly love it when you’re jealous?” His chest bounces with a quiet laugh. “Happy anniversary, Skyla.”
“Happy anniversary.”
He pulls back and holds up his hands like a criminal.
“I asked her to teach me how to bind a Fem.”
“Did she?”
“She claims to have, but all she really did was spit in my face.”
He cocks his head to the side as he considers the bodily fluid offense. I bet he’s contemplating firing her. Spitting in someone’s eyes, their mouth, could have grave consequences these days.
“So that’s how you do it.”
“What?”
“Spitting in their face. Years ago when I begged her to teach me she refused. I distinctly remember her saying I could never do that to you.” He considers it a moment. “Was she angry?”
“Yes, but I was sort of holding her at knifepoint at the time. So rage might be a better word.”
“That might be an important part of the equation.” His whiskey-colored eyes brighten. “Make sure you h
it him just right, just the way she did. Build your rage first. That shouldn’t be too hard, just think of my body being eaten to nothing by worms.”
My eyes close involuntarily, and I envision it just the way he told me. It’s a thing of horror. I can’t imagine how Gage has let this happen. Truthfully, there can be no justification.
“What if it works?” It’s the last thing I expected to pop out of my mouth.
Someone bowls a strike, and a series of congratulatory screams go off in the distance.
Logan tugs at his chin a moment lost in thought.
“I don’t know, Skyla.” He scoops the pizza I made for him onto a plate and heads to the office. “Call me later, and let me know how it turns out.”
“How what turns out?” Gage comes in with his infectious grin and his glowing eyes. His hair and jacket are pebbled with rain as he comes over and pulls me into a tight embrace.
“Just some silly advice Lexy gave me. Did you know she actually said she considered us friends in high school?”
“Maybe she has a selective memory.” His eyes widen a moment, amused. “Michelle and Liam are here. You know what that means?” He tucks a kiss under my ear, and a part of me wants to pull away. If Logan sees us snuggling up, today of all days, it might gut him.
“That Lexy has someone new to pick on?” And make a pizza for, but I leave that part out.
“That Logan is way overstaffed. You want to split? If I remember correctly we have a blanket we painted with our bodies that we need to burn.” Gage runs his lips over mine, a little rougher than anticipated. “And I think it’s time I give you your birthday gift.”
“I’d love to, but it’s raining body parts.”
Gage stares out the window with serious intent, and the sound of the battering storm quells to a deafening silence.
“You did that.” It wasn’t even a question because I’ve already had the privilege to witness his meteorological feats.
A dull laugh rattles from him. “You up for a bonfire?”
I glance back at the office. Logan doesn’t seem to be avoiding me, and we sort of did exchange as much of a sentiment as possible on this difficult day. My eyes drift to Gage, my Fem, my dragon, the serpent who I love.
“Sounds like a plan.”
Ironically, spitting in my husband’s face is the gift Logan really wants me to give him on this special day.
I wonder if Gage can make me furious enough?
I bet he could.
In a lot of ways, he already has.
The air is brisk down at Rockaway, but it’s not overwhelmingly freezing like it should be. In fact, I can feel a slight warm breeze pumping over the island tonight.
Gage and I run down the sandy beach, barefoot, hand in hand, laughing with carefree spirits, something we haven’t felt in a good long while. He teleported to the butterfly room and grabbed the blanket we destroyed plus a few others to snuggle up with. We settle in our usual spot just in front of the little shack Gage constructed out of palm fronds a few years back. This has been our special place since that first summer I came to Paragon. Back then, Gage and I decided we should get to know one another if we were going to deceive people into believing we were dating. It was all a rouse to hide my budding relationship with Logan from the Counts, but that backfired spectacularly. And, now, here I am married to a Fem, having a bonfire on what would have been my one-year anniversary. It all makes sense, after all this is my life were talking about.
I sigh as we set the comforter down. Gage tackles me to the ground, and I fall back in a fit of giggles. I’m not sure what’s gotten into me, but something about Gage has me feeling better about today, about us in general.
“Hey”—I give his ribs a quick squeeze—“you’re supposed to start a fire. We have a blanket to burn, remember?”
“That’s right.” He plants a kiss over my mouth before prying my lips apart. Gage dives in and curls his tongue over my saliva. He turns toward the wood pit and breathes a fire that expands from the opening of his mouth six feet long and wide.
“Gage!” I scream trying to get out from under his grasp.
“I won’t hurt you.” He’s quick to reassure as he peppers my face with kisses.
My mental shield erects a thousand times stronger than before. My heart beats a rhythm that sounds an awful lot like run for your life.
“You’re so powerful.” I marvel with a slight thread of fear as the fire blisters into the night like an inferno. It’s so hot. My jeans feel as if they’re melting to my body. My face is getting singed.
He glances over, and it dims by half.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
My wrists wrangle free from his hold, and I scoot back a foot before falling onto my elbows.
“First the weather, now fire? Wow, you’ve got all the elements mastered. Anything else I should know about?” Here it is—his moment to come clean.
He folds his hands like he’s about to say a prayer before touching his fingers to his lips.
The ocean roars in one dizzying crash after another until it’s impossible to know if he’s answered or not.
“You mind turning down the volume on that thing?” I nod toward the waterline, and Gage obediently glances over until there’s nothing more than a soft hum coming from the churning sea.
“Color me impressed.” And equally depressed. It’s like he’s turned into some dark version of Marshall. “So what does this all mean? Are you in charge of everything now? Is Demetri laying the world at your feet so you’ll give him an heir? A power here, a power there, just supply him with dominion, and we’ll call it a wicked day?” I didn’t mean for it to come out bitchy, but who am I kidding? That’s all I’ve been around him ever since I found out about Logan’s body. It’s killing me not to confront him about that—about a lot of things. Logan doesn’t want me to. He swears that Gage will vomit out the truth when the time is right. Logan has the patience of Job. I’m a lot of things, but a biblical patriarch isn’t one of them.
“Actually that segues nicely into your birthday gift.”
I give several quick blinks, stunned by his segue.
“Come here.” Gage pulls me up before scooping me into his strong arms. He closes his eyes a moment, and I can feel him wobbling on his feet.
“Gage?” Before he can answer he’s levitated us right off Paragon soil. We rise into the sky and my stomach drops. “Gage.” I’m breathless, watching as the city lights twinkle below as if Paragon has been nothing but a fairytale all along. Gage propels us higher, faster until the curve of the earth is evident, and we can see the continental United States with its own city lights sprayed about the country in clusters. The air grows increasingly frigid. The freezer at the bowling alley has nothing on this. The icy breeze claws right through to my bones, burning like the hottest fire.
“Gage?” We’re flying, straight up in an invisible elevator of his own making.
“I got you.” His steely arms cage me in as we rise into the stratosphere. “We’re here.”
“Here?” The earth sits small and beneath us, nothing but a fragile blue marble, alive and glowing like a radiant being. It’s as if everyone on that planet has been one entity all along. The earth’s splendor, her majesty, I can’t commit her to memory properly because of the sheer impossibility of what’s happening. This is more than a bird’s eye view. This is a holy vantage point. I can honestly say it is an honor to be God’s footstool.
From this perspective, I can taste Gage’s power—see how much he enjoys wielding it. He’s already addicted. Demetri gave him the first hit of the most potent drug, and now I’m not sure he can ever quit.
“Happy birthday, Skyla.” He melts a heated kiss off my lips as a mean shiver rips through me. “Here it is, the one thing I’ve always wanted to give you—the world at your feet.”
A breath hitches in my throat. I bury my face in his chest a moment as a quiet sob pumps through me.
“Thank you.” I glance up at hi
s watery sapphire eyes. “I know you would do anything for me.”
“Everything,” he corrects. “I would do everything for you, Skyla. And I will.” His lips find mine as he dives back into me, rushed and heated, filled with a determined passion, confessing his love in the most dramatic manner, his tongue bonding over mine as if they were one.
When we pull away we find ourselves back on Paragon, right there on Rockaway as if we’d never left.
“That, Oliver, was the most beautiful, intense experience I’ve ever had in my life.” My heart thumps in and out of rhythm both terrified and exhilarated.
“I was hoping it would be.” His smile drips to nothing as his eyes burn into mine. “I wanted to be the one who gave you the most beautiful, intense experience of your entire life.” His dimples twitch just barely.
Holy crap. Why do I get the feeling it’s no coincidence that Gage waited until my anniversary with Logan to give me my very belated birthday gift? I shove the thought out of my mind for now.
Instead, I reach for the blanket that we painted with our love and rumple it into a ball.
“Um, maybe we should do this now? Throw it in on three?”
“Three!” We shout in unison and laugh as we pitch it.
The seemingly innocent blanket explodes in a loud series of pops as it lights up the night like a firework, and I glance up wondering what it would look like from space. Gage has beyond impressed me. He managed to scare the living hell out of me, too, but I’ll keep that close to the vest for now.
“It’s always the innocent ones you have to look out for.” I scoot into him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He pulls me onto his lap. I can feel him mentally trying to tear down my walls. Gage is aggressive in his pursuit of my thoughts tonight.
The Dragon and the Rose Page 25