“Let’s hope.” But a part of me knows it’s not.
“So when does this start?”
Never, I want to say, but don’t. I examine her for a moment as a swell of jealousy spreads through my body, viral and toxic. A mild dislike brews in me for my nephew, and I’m caught off guard by this.
“I think it should take effect now.” My body feels heavy, my heart like a stone on fire—an inferno that can never be extinguished, at least not while Gage is in the picture, and for the first time, I feel his pain. “And trust me, Gage made it clear that he would make this very believable.”
Skyla thinks back to Lexy’s party and that heated kiss they exchanged.
“I know.” I say it low and quiet like a secret. I don’t want her to apologize or feel guilty for something that’s about to replicate itself many times over.
“I’m so sorry.” She pulls in close with a ragged breath.
“Don’t be. I was stupid to let Michelle hang all over me.” I deserved all that and more.
“What about you? Are you going to get a girlfriend?” The hurt on her face makes me want to go out and strangle every last one of the Counts for ever putting us in this situation.
“Nope,” I assure her. “I’m going to be the scary loner.” I’d never let another girl take Skyla’s place. It’s laughable to think it could ever happen.
A fight ignites in her. A flicker of resolve lights her up from the inside. “What would we have to do to be together permanently?”
“Take down the Countenance.” I shake my head at the impossibility.
Skyla crawls between my knees and conforms her body to mine. I wrap my arms around her as she lands a gentle kiss over my lips.
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
Gage
Over the weekend, while the sun struggles to break free from the steel sheet of clouds, Skyla agrees to come down to the beach with me.
We walk the pale sand at Pikes Reef, side by side, and I desperately want to take up her hand, but don’t push my luck. A nice breeze picks up, showering us gently with the salty haze.
I didn’t want to take her to Rockaway and force my visions to replicate themselves in real time. I want this to evolve naturally. I want Skyla to want to be there—holding me, rolling around in the shadowed sand, trying to bury herself in my arms like I was her favorite place on earth.
“So things are pretty crazy right now.” She relaxes her shoulder against mine, and I press in just a little to let her know I more than approve.
“It’ll all work out in the end.” A part of me hurts for Logan just thinking about what the end might mean for him.
A dozen pelicans fly low over the water as Skyla and I take a seat near the shoreline.
“I guess we should get to know each other.” She sniffs as if there were tears driving the statement. “I mean, you know—if we’re going to pull this off.”
“Hey…” I scoot in and wrap my arm around her shoulder. “Don’t be afraid. I promise, I’ll die before I let anyone or anything hurt you. If being with Logan is what you want, then I want that for you, too.”
“You do?” She looks up at me uncertain, her lower lip hedging out just enough to tempt me.
“I do.” I can hardly push out the words, but I mean them. If she wants Logan in the end, then I want that for her, no matter how much it kills me.
“You’re a really nice guy.” She leans in, warming her body against mine. “But what about you, Gage? I’m sure there’s someone you’re interested in. This isn’t fair to you.”
Here it is. I could tell her everything—from the first moment I saw her all those years ago in my sleep, to how my feelings only seemed to have magnified in my waking hours.
“I’ll be okay.” I rub my hand up and down her arm to warm her. Just being with Skyla is enough for now.
Her eyes catch the light and shine like a sea of crystal. She leans over and writes something in the damp sand just beyond her legs.
The words Skyla +Gage appear across the polished slick, encased in a giant heart.
“Nice.” I say, admiring her work, my heart racing like a mustang out of the gate.
It’s all happening. Skyla and I are together in a roundabout way. Falling in love could be the very next step.
I lean over and spell something out, just beneath her masterpiece.
“Forever?” She bites down on a laugh while looking at me from under her lashes. “You’re ambitious.”
“I like to think of myself as a realist,” I say, wrapping my arm back around her.
A gentle laugh bubbles from her as she pulls me into a tight embrace.
“I think you’re pretty amazing for helping us out like this.”
My stomach bottoms out when she says it. I’m not a part of the “us” she’s referring to.
A wave rushes up over the shore as if it were sent from Logan himself and spills its fury over the slick expanse, white as milk. The water rushes back to the sea with a furtive roar while Skyla and I marvel at the sand just beyond our feet.
“It’s still there!” She gives an open-mouthed smile at the strange sight.
The water smoothed the shoreline clean but narrowly evaded the heart, the lettering—it’s all still there, untouched.
“I guess we’re meant to be.” I press a kiss over the top of her head without thinking twice.
She glances up with a breath caught in her throat.
“I guess maybe we are.” Her eyes widen at the idea. “Skyla and Gage,” she whispers.
“Forever.”
Thank you for reading Ethereal Knights. If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or your point of purchase.
*Turn the page for a special bonus chapter!
Bonus Chapter
Gage’s point of view the day he meets Skyla at the bowling alley.
Gage
A Dream Come True
I catch Logan over by the register counting change or lack thereof. Poor guy will be completely grey before his twentieth birthday. All he thinks about is turning a profit. Really I know he’s trying to hang onto the last bit of his parents he has left—and that incarnation just so happens to be this bowling alley.
Brielle comes in with her hair pulled back, energized like she just stepped out of a light socket. She speeds in this direction with a girl about our age, face of angel, body to match, so of course I drop the mop and head on over. They try taking a seat but Logan intercepts.
“Bree,” he says, but it’s her friend he’s interested in. Any new female on the island has a Logan shaped target on her forehead until he tags and bags her—then again, he’s never slept with anyone but Chloe—God knows that turned into a nightmare.
I shoulder up to him and devour the new girl with my eyes, forgetting to breathe or move in the process.
She’s wearing shorts that show off a pair of golden tan legs that stretch out forever. Her hair falls in waves, long over her back.
Everything in me freezes.
It’s her.
The room warps and twists, turning the world into a muddy spiral with the exception of the vision standing before me. I know that beautiful face, those prism-like eyes. She’s haunted my dreams for years, supplied my waking hours with nonstop fantasies, and now she’s standing in front of me as if she had always been here.
“Guys, this is Skyla.” Brielle bounces. “She’s moving into Chloe’s old house. Skyla, these are the knuckleheads I work with, Logan and Gage.”
Chloe’s house—just hearing that pulls the pin on a grenade I’ve been lugging around in my gut.
Skyla.
My insides erupt like a furnace. Being near her kick-starts a serious rush of adrenaline, and my hands begin to shake.
Love her name. I love the way she rests her hand on her hip, the way a smile plays on her lips as if she’s too shy to give it. There’s a softness in her spirit, a meekness that draws me in.
I’ve counted weeks, days, hours, without any i
dea if she even existed—with the very real possibility it were all some hallucination my mind had conjured up in an effort to torture me, and yet she’s real—so damn freaking beautiful—and most certainly not noticing me.
She’s looking at Logan—probably wondering why he’s smiling like some deranged lunatic. I’d better step in before he wrecks everything—before she decides it’s better to steer clear of the bowling alley, and the Olivers in general, for her own personal safety.
“Skyla?” I put my hand out, and she takes it, soft and fragile. I close my eyes a moment as her flesh warms to mine. “Gage Oliver.” My heart pounds so loud I’m sure she can hear it. Not even the sound of the bowling balls thundering toward their destination has the power to drown it out.
Maybe I should lean in and kiss her on the cheek or something? I shake the thought away. What the hell kind of idiot kisses someone they’ve just met? This is going to end with a slap in the face or a restraining order if I don’t maintain.
“You have a very unique name.” Logan extricates my hand and takes over. “It’s beautiful.”
Figures.
He bows in and presses his lips just under her wrist.
That answers my question. Logan is just the right kind of idiot to kiss someone he’s just met—a real knight in shinning armor. I’m sure he’ll be throwing rocks at her window later for the midnight serenade.
I glare over at him.
He’s hypnotizing her with his pretty boy magic, flashing his teeth, broadening his chest—forgetting to exhale like he’s giving some primal demonstration of his athletically advanced DNA.
Skyla gives a less than amused smile. Hopefully she’s categorizing him in the dope with no hope division.
“Logan Oliver,” his voice dips low.
Brielle and I exchange looks, amused at the level of desperation he’s emitting.
“Oh, so you’re brothers?” She turns her body into him. It looks seductive, like some erotic autonomic response, and an alarm goes off in me.
Logan is taking over. She’s buying into him hook, line, and sexual sinker.
“Cousins.” He corrects as if he’s trying to distance our blood relations. “I live with them.” He lays his other hand over hers like some bizarre display of benevolence.
I’m sure he’s plowing through her thoughts, spinning through them like a Rolodex trying to decipher how she feels about him—see if there’s anything he can use against her in the name of sealing the deal.
“My parents are both deceased,” he adds.
And he goes there.
I cut him a dirty look.
It sounded like he blurted it out but still. Knowing Logan, there’s an underlying strategy involved.
Skyla shrinks a little as she takes in this odd admission. She pulls nervously at a long strand of hair, looking perfectly freaked out.
I glance back at Logan.
Nice work, Romeo. Boys with dead parents are a no-fly zone for most girls. Emotional trauma isn’t usually high up on the must have list of attributes.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Her eyes round out in horror.
Unless, she happens to be the exception.
Her hips sway into his, and she gives a look that suggests she might be willing to comfort him physically.
“My dad died, too.” Her voice softens to nothing as she glances at her feet.
My heart stops. Just hearing her say those words makes my stomach bottom out.
I hope Logan feels like crap for digging in the graveyard for sympathy. Now look—she’s visibly upset.
Everything in me wants to comfort her. The fresh look of hurt in her eyes lets you know it wasn’t long ago, that it stings like hell to think about. I want to tell her it’s going to be okay, but I know better. Okay is a futile word especially when it’s nothing but a lie. Things like this never turn out okay.
Logan surrenders her hand like returning a stolen treasure.
I hope he heard how lousy she thinks he is for spotlighting her biggest loss.
“Sorry,” he offers. It comes out genuine with his own built-in sadness filling the cracks of her grief.
Logan motions them over to a nearby table, and I secure the seat in front of the girl from my dreams. No use in letting Logan lead her any further down the wrong path, i.e. himself.
He gives a dissatisfied look in my direction.
It’s on, and he’s pissed.
I blink a smile into him. I’ll gladly go toe-to-toe with Logan in this arena. This isn’t Michelle, or Lexy, or just any other girl on the planet. If he thinks I’m getting out of his way because he says so, he’s delusional.
All those dreams and visions mean something—the one in the courthouse—Skyla looking up, waiting for a kiss—it was me she wanted it from—it had to be.
“So you’re a junior?” I touch my knuckles to the table like a nervous habit.
“Yup.” She bites into her lip—her perfect pout mesmerizes me. “And you guys?”
“We’re all juniors!” Brielle rattles her to attention.
If Logan and his eulogy didn’t run her off, Brielle and her manic enthusiasm—over school of all things, just might do the trick.
She stares into Bree with great intensity.
Thought so.
“So tell me about Chloe.” Skyla says it casual with a dark undertone that pricks my hairs on end.
The table goes quiet.
Nobody knew Chloe like I did. I’d venture to say that even Logan with his sexual conquest of the dearly departed knew her far less.
A part of me wants to tell her about Chloe, about the hype and paranoia that surrounds her, but no good could ever come of it. The last thing I want is to spook her—send her into Logan’s arms permanently and ruin things.
I’m keeping my mouth shut, that’s for damn sure.
For a minute I consider taking her somewhere private so we can be alone like Devil’s Peak or the North Shore. I want to tell her that I’m already in so deep, that I’m dying to know her, feel her, taste her.
I bear into Skyla with a penetrative stare—drink her down like holy water, take in her beauty, the light she radiates without even trying, but she doesn’t glance back. She’s too lost in Logan to even notice.
I doubt those visions will ever come true if she gives her heart away to someone else.
I know one thing for sure—I’ll fulfill a commitment I made long ago to find a place for myself in her life. I’ll rearrange the universe to make this happen. Logan doesn’t stand a chance.
She bats her lashes into him dazzled and doe-eyed, drop-kicking my heart in the process—turning it into a field goal for the other team.
Skyla will be mine someday. The visions have affirmed this and the visions never lie. But judging by the way she’s looking at Logan, this is going to be tougher than I ever imagined.
Acknowledgements
To my husband and children, thank you so much for being on board with my insanity.
A special thank you to Jess Moore for her ninja editing skillz. (Ha! I’m leaving that “z” in there!) BIG thank you to Christina Kendler for the spare pair of eyes that saved me from impending doom.
To my wonderful readers, you bless me every day. I wrote this book just for you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your kindness and support. I love you like family.
To the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God—and to the Lamb—be honor and glory forever and ever. Your word is manna for my hungry soul. I owe you everything.
About the Author
Addison Moore is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who writes contemporary and paranormal romance. Previously she worked as a therapist on a locked psychiatric unit for nearly a decade. She resides on the West Coast with her husband, four wonderful children, and two dogs where she eats too much chocolate and stays up way too late. When she's not writing, she's reading. Addison’s Celestra Series has been optioned for film by 20th Century Fox.
Feel free to visit
her blog at: addisonmoorewrites.blogspot.com
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Ethereal Knights (Celestra Knights) Page 22