From the top of the stairs, I can hear Mom chatter on about how Tad is away on another one of his “important” business trips. We’d better get down there, I feel bad that Mom has to entertain the Olivers all on her own.
The delicious scent of bacon fills the air. Both Emma and Mom fake a chortling laugh, and my appetite does a one-eighty. This strange rift I have with Emma makes me want to cry my eyes out. I don’t understand how the simple act of marrying her son caused us to drift so far apart. Although, if I think back to last year, she wasn’t exactly my biggest fan.
“Skyla.” Barron stands as Gage and I file into the room. “How are you feeling?” He pulls me into a quick embrace.
“I’m feeling great.” I give a nervous smile to Mom. “It turns out yesterday was just a false alarm.” I fan my arms in front of him.
“False alarm?” Mom scuttles over.
Emma still has that fake smile frozen on her face, but she’s yet to pour her concern over me like Barron has. She can save it.
“I just had a couple scratches. Barron was nice enough to treat them.”
“Heavens.” Mom dips on her knees and squawks a laugh. “Everyone knows ‘false alarm’ means you’re talking about a baby. Those are loaded words, young lady.” She guffaws at Emma who slowly lets the smile melt from her face. “Not that I would mind. Misty is almost a year old, and Lord knows there’s nothing sweeter than the scent of a newborn.” She flicks her wrist at my mother-in-law. “Wouldn’t you agree?” Mom is singing at operatic levels. I don’t think there’s enough coffee in the world for me to listen to one more aria.
“It’s been so long, I don’t remember.” Emma swipes a paper plate off the counter and fans herself.
God, it’s as if the thought of Gage and me actually having a child makes her nauseous. I try not to glare at her as I head for the coffee.
“Don’t you worry,” Mom offers. “Hopefully, Skyla and Gage will be reminding us soon enough.”
“Mom,” I sing back in that same annoying tone. “Gage and I have every intention of finishing college before we plan a family.” I take a sip and feel the burn on my tongue, but I don’t care because Emma just turned a little green. It looks like the four-year plan is still a little too soon for us to start a new branch of the family tree. I leave out the tiny detail that we plan to adopt. Hey, I wonder if there’s a way to adopt a Nephilim baby? Maybe it could be a cute little Levatio? That would totally remind Gage and me of better days.
“Skyla?” Mom shakes her head. “I asked if you wanted your eggs scrambled or sunny side up?”
“Oh, sorry. Scrambled please.”
I follow her to the stove as Gage takes a seat with his parents.
“Hey, Mom?” I have no intention of breaking her heart but a part of me wants to start priming her for what the future holds for my ovaries. As much as I love watching Emma squirm, I can see the pain in Gage’s eyes because he blames himself for not being able to give that to me. “I know I’ve mentioned this before, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up for grandchildren after graduation either.” I touch my hand to my stomach as if there were a tiny piece of Gage growing in me already. “I have a feeling that won’t be happening for Gage and me.”
“What?” She inches back as if I’ve just sprouted another head. “Oh!” Her fingers fly to her lips. “You think you’re going to have a tough time because of what happened to me.”
I shake my head because technically, Lizbeth Landon and I aren’t genetically related. Or perhaps she means in theory? After all, some women do have difficulty procreating. Too bad Chloe isn’t one of them. I still feel bad for that kid she’s incubating.
“I promise you”—she continues—“we will get you to the very best doctors that money can buy.” Demetri’s face blinks through my mind, pictured on a hundred dollar bill.
Mom shuttles me back to the table and seats me between Gage and Emma. “Skyla is worried she’s going to be plagued with trouble conceiving, and it’s all my fault. I had such a difficult time while getting in the family way with Misty, but, then, Demetri stepped in and saved the day.” She tosses her hands in the air, and I’m about to toss my cookies. “He had a doula flown in to council me on all kinds of things, diet, positions. I don’t care what they say—gravity does matter! And would you guess that Demetri, himself, specializes in Japanese foot rubs? He knows exactly which pressure points—”
“I think your eggs are burning,” I interrupt.
Mom waves us off with the kitchen towel leaving me in ground zero with all that talk of special positions and Japanese foot rubs. I bet he knew exactly which pressure points to use in order to knock my mother up. I can just envision the two of them defying gravity. The thought makes me want to hurl. I glance over at Misty. He placed my mother in the family way all right.
“Skyla, are you feeling well?” Dr. O leans in and touches his cool hand to my forehead. “You look a bit pale.”
Mom whisks back before I can answer with a plate full of glibbery, mucus-filled eggs.
“What’s that smell?” I can hardly get the words out.
“Garlic. Isn’t it heavenly?”
A loud, riotous burp drills its way up from the boiling vat my stomach has become, and I make a mad rush for the trash.
I puke my guts up because, contrary to what my mother believes, garlic is about as heavenly as Demetri and his Japanese foot rubs.
Later in the evening, when the wind has tired itself out, and the fog blooms around us in a burst of remembrance, Brielle and Drake throw a party. Drake and Bree drove out to Cost Club and stocked up on rib eye, filet minion, and, of course, hot dogs. He’s still a Landon after all.
Brielle has every side dish known to man lining the picnic tables, and good thing, too, because they’ve invited half of Paragon.
“What are we celebrating again?” I ask, taking a seat between Laken and Bree. Drake has about a dozen different fire pits strewn out over the yard, and everyone has moved onto the roasting marshmallows phase of the evening.
“We’re celebrating life, Skyla.” Bree rolls her eyes. “Sometimes you just have to be happy that you’re alive.”
“And that you’re with the person you love most.” Laken catches Coop’s hand as he walks by and pulls him in.
“That’s a perfect reason to celebrate.” I sweep the vicinity for Gage but spot Marshall speaking with Michelle Miller instead.
“Actually”—Brielle pulls a nail file from her back pocket in an attempt to tame her acrylic claws—“Drake says it’s the last night that Tad is gonna be away for a while. Old Cranky Pants is coming home to roost.”
“It makes total sense now.” I spot my studley Sector parting ways with Ezrina as he makes his way into the night. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
I head over just as Marshall slips into the woods.
“Marshall!” I call after him, picking up my pace. “Wait, don’t leave. There’s something I have to tell you!”
He pauses a moment before turning around.
“Yes, Ms. Messenger?”
The moon glows off his skin, radiating his being in a frightening yet magnificent way.
“I wanted to give you this.” I wrap my arms around him so tight, a part of me never wants to let go. My lips sneak a kiss to the edge of his as I slip down his body. “Thank you.”
“Tell me what I’ve done, so I can do it again.”
“You haven’t done anything. You’re simply you.” I flash my bracelet at him. It’s the beautiful one with the roses he fashioned for me with love. “I was saving it for a special occasion, but after this horrible week I think I realize every day we’re gifted is occasion enough. If you don’t mind, I’d love for you to help secure this pendant around my neck.”
“The Pretty One already put in the request for you. Come over anytime you like and consider it done.”
“That’s the magic of who you are. No sooner do I have the thought—with you it’s already as good as done.” I peck another kiss
to his cheek. “Goodnight. I love you.”
Marshall doesn’t return the sentiment with words. Instead, his eyes ignite in the dim woods a brilliant shade of fire.
“Skyla—while our souls fused together in that chamber of horrors yesterday, Delphinius was kind enough to gift me a vision.”
“No more kisses.” I touch my finger to his lips, and he presses into it, soft at first then rough with passion. “What’s the vision?”
“I won’t give it.” Marshall heads into the woods, his body evaporating into the fog as if they’ve been one all along. “Know this, you are already walking through a new fire, Ms. Messenger.” Marshall turns, and all that’s left of him are those strange, glowing eyes. “At the end of this long night, it will be me by your side to comfort you. We are family, Skyla.”
His eyes fade out of existence.
“Wait! Are you talking about tonight, tonight?” Because I sort of have plans with Gage, well his body at least. “Or is it more metaphorical, as in life?” I’m betting the latter. The woods cloak around me like cloistering arms, and I hurry back to the party.
Giggles ensue from the left. Then a groan of satisfaction before a loud cackle rips through the night. I recognize that shriek because before Tad carpeted my bedroom walls, I would listen to it nightly. I bet it’s Melissa and her “Gabe.” He’s already cheated on her twice this year. It’s a wonder he has any balls left.
“Melissa?” I speed over, and all noises of delight cease to exist. Knew it. “I know you’re out here.” I bump into a body, and it’s Mia—and Rev.
“Good, God.” Deep down I always knew she’d be attracted to bad boys. Mia had a slight obsession with a biker gang that used to ride by our house in L.A. My father would say ‘girls, stay away from boys on motorcycles’ and each time he did that she looked further intrigued by the idea. “What are you doing here?” They’re caught up in a tailspin of dressing and adjusting and holy—what exactly were they doing out here?
“We were just saying goodnight,” Mia offers as if reading my mind. “Rev has to catch the ferry.”
“No he doesn’t.” I poke him in his chest. “He’s probably a Levatio, just like his father.”
“I’m not.” He holds out his hands. It’s only then I note he’s wearing his signature leather jacket and ripped jeans. I bet that jacket smells. How exactly does one go about washing leather, anyway? “I take after my mom—Noster.”
Mia sneers at me before flattening her hands onto his chest again. “I’d better get going. I’ll be heading to bed soon.” She ticks her head as if she’s telling him something in secret. God, does Mia have an attic room, too? “Just changing into my PJs.” She blows him a kiss as she walks away. “Come on D-O-G.” The beast rises from seemingly nowhere and trots loyally by her side. Mia steps in close. “By the way, I’m not a part of the Steel Barricade, so you had better come up with some way to save our asses.” She glances back at Rev. “Text me!” Her eyes narrow in on mine. “Goodnight, Skyla,” she snipes as she blankets herself with the fog.
“Noster, huh?” My fists dig into my hips as I turn to Rev. “I’ll just be in my room—changing? Don’t think I’m not up on what you can do with those eyes. Believe me when I say you are not allowed to see through any walls of the Landon house. That’s perverted and creepy. So take your X-ray vision and scuttle off to Host.”
He grunts and heads my way. Rev looms over me a good foot, his spiked hair looks like it could qualify as a lethal weapon all on its own, and he happens to be wearing too much guy-liner. Guy-liner! Ugh.
“I’m not looking through the walls.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets.
“What the heck are you doing with Mia? She’s just a kid.”
“I like her.” He shrugs. “She’s smart and funny.”
“Yeah? Well keep this relationship on an intellectual level. If I get wind of anything inappropriate, I’ll get real smart and funny when I call the police. Statutory rape is a very real thing.”
He raises his arms in surrender. “Not happening.”
“Nothing is happening. So go find yourself another girl to charm with your bad boy ways. There are six sororities on Host to choose from. I’m sure there’s an equally bad girl out there just waiting to commit a felony with you.”
“Nice pep talk. Tell Mia I’ll be back on Sunday.” He plucks out a cigarette and heads down toward the front. “Paragon Presbyterian, 11:15 service, right?” He gives a mocking wink.
“What? Are you going to stalk her at church of all places? And really? Smoking? Mia hates cigarettes!”
He laughs to himself before holding up his hand for a moment. I bet he just flipped me off. Mia has really found a sack of shit this time. Dr. Booth is going to owe both her and me free therapy for subjecting us to his damaged goods.
Two shadowed bodies head this way, tall, built like linebackers, and I hesitate a moment before stepping out of the woods.
“There you are.” Gage smiles wide. The light of the moon dusts his features, and his skin glows a pale blue. It gives him that morgue effect and unnerves me. I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to my dark prince.
“Is everything okay?” Logan pulls me in and warms me with his embrace.
I pull Gage in on the other side of me and give them both a squeeze.
“With you two in my life, nothing could be better.”
A quiet laugh rolls through Gage as if he doesn’t believe it.
As if he can’t.
Gage
The fog settles into the Landon backyard as if it were a guest at the party. Logan and I sit on either side of Skyla like faithful bookends. Everyone from West is here, plus a couple of familiar faces from East. Laken and Coop are snuggled by the fire. Kresley and Grayson are off in the distance chatting it up with Liam. Someone is seriously going to have talk to that boy about STDs.
“Hey, you.” Skyla nestles into me. We’re a perfect fit. I dip a kiss into her hair.
Skyla. Just being near her is enough to put a smile on my face although, at the moment, there’s a touch of sadness coating it. I’ve seen enough dark days in both our lives to know I don’t wish this shadow of wickedness over her for another moment.
Coop leans in and whispers, “I have some thoughts on what we can do about the Barricade.”
Skyla gives a knowing nod. “I have a few thoughts myself.”
“We should get together next week and go over our game plan.” Laken jumps from her seat into Cooper’s lap. I’m glad they worked things out between the two of them. Coop and Laken belong together. I wouldn’t want to see her paired with evil. My gaze falls over Skyla. I wouldn’t want to see anyone paired with evil.
“For sure.” Skyla laces her fingers with mine, and my thumb hitches over her wedding ring. My wife. My life. My everything. “I’ve got a plan that they will never see coming.” She settles into me before doing a double take over my shoulder. “Brody!” Skyla waves both him and Brooke over. “Take a seat. How are you feeling?”
“More like myself.” He shoots a look over his shoulder to Ezrina.
Ezrina and Nev fill in our circle but refuse to take a seat. I nod to her, discreet as if it were just any other hello, but we both know it isn’t. I met with her in the lab the other night. She did what I asked, and now, if the result is what I want, my future with Skyla is secure.
Ezrina shakes her head. Her lids fall heavy as her gaze drops to the ground.
My blood runs cold. A numbing fog seeps through my bones, bleeding out into my extremities. And there you have it. Everything I was betting on didn’t pan out. I’m not sure why this surprises me. It seems to be the way the universe works when it comes to yours truly.
“I’m afraid it’s past our bedtime.” Nev glances at the pocket watch attached to his trousers. He and Ezrina have been slowly bringing back the seventeenth century. “We’ll leave the rebel rousing to the rest of you for the evening.”
Nat interrupts her conversation long enough to growl at Nev a
s he takes up Ezrina’s hand. Rumor has it, Nat briefly had a fling with one of the guys from the Host football team, but he left her for a cheerleader. I heard her mention to Skyla she was looking to join the cheer squad next year. Everyone including Ezrina knows she’s still gunning for Nevermore’s bodily predecessor, her old boy toy, Pierce.
“Any news on the markers?” Skyla glances to Brody.
Ezrina leans in, her face just as cutthroat as Chloe’s ever was. “Slow progress. The Dolomites harvested from your body show promise. Time will tell if he’s to be restored.”
Skyla offers a forlorn look to Brody. “Be strong. There’s always hope.”
“I know. And I’m sorry about what happened.” He wraps an arm around Brooke as if protecting her from the truth. “I never asked my sister to do that to you.”
“Do what?” Brielle and Drake fall back into their seats, their clothes disheveled, their hair wild and rumpled. Now that’s not vanilla. I give a crooked smile to Skyla. Nothing about us was ever vanilla to begin with.
“That’s a story for another day.” Skyla is quick to brush it off. “Let’s talk about something positive.”
“Like?” Logan shoots a marshmallow into the fire, and we watch as it augments into a glowing orange ball.
“Like”—Harrison comes by with Giselle slung over his shoulder and jumps over the flames—“how we’re going to set the world on fire.”
“Hey.” I pelt him in the head with a bag of chips. “You could’ve fucking dropped her. Don’t mess around like that—especially not with my sister.” I’m not opposed to beating the shit out of him again.
“Boy aren’t you fierce and protective.” Bree claws the air. “You’re one lucky girl, Skyla.”
“Don’t I know it. Gage Oliver is a force to be reckoned with.”
The Dragon and the Rose Page 41