Ethereal Knights

by Moore, Addison

  “I’m not the enemy, Gage.” He says it dry—drags out the words as if he were stoned. “Are you the enemy?”

  Looks like our conversation just migrated back into Skyla territory.

  “Depends which war I’m fighting.”

  “Are you fighting a war?” His ears peak as if he were truly interested in where my allegiance lies. And there it is. I’ve put up such a lame fight that not even the enemy is aware of any impending danger. I need to sink into the trenches, pull out the weapons of mass destruction, and rain down all unholy hell on Logan and his “relationship” before I prove my dreams and visions were nothing but a lie.

  If he takes away Skyla, the girl I’ve been yearning for, he might as well rip the beating heart right from my chest. I’ve poured so much into her already—into us. I’ve bought into the fantasy because the prophecies never lie. They never even hint at half-truths. Skyla and I will be together in that hotel room, we’ll stand before a judge one day and seal our covenant before God and man—I know this is true. But, convincing Logan and unfortunately, Skyla, seems to be another story.

  I glance over at Logan with his cut features, his chest as wide as a wall. It’s not a big mystery as to why she’s drooling at his feet, but I can’t figure out why the hell I’m having such a hard time getting her to give me a second glance if I’m the one she’s truly going to be with.

  Right now, Logan is kicking the shit out me in the “get the girl” department. He’s snatched my future wife away before she ever hit my bed.

  I touch my finger to the cool glass. After all these years of wanting—waiting, she’s finally here and she’s less mine than ever before. I feel empty without her, just skin over bone—nothing more, nothing less.

  If I want Skyla, I need to sound the battle cry—better yet, take down the enemy when he least expects it.

  I think it’s time for a little covert ops.

  ***

  Nicholas Havar’s house is monolithic, and from what I’ve heard, pretty damn nice. But I wouldn’t know. We’re shuffled around the back, in the dark, like a couple of burglars over to an overgrown pool house that’s set up like an AA meeting. Rows and rows of metal chairs fan out in a semi-circle, while a buffet of donuts and coffee sits off to the side. Logan and I take seats in the front near the entrance and wait as the last-minute stragglers wander in—an equal mix of both men and women. It looks like Mom and Dad decided to ditch. I heard them saying something about dinner and a movie, and neither Logan nor I mentioned that we would be here.

  Logan leans in. “Recognize any of these people?”

  “Hardly. You?”

  He shakes his head.

  Nicholas Haver is as round as a barrel. He polishes off a pink-frosted donut before seating himself at a table that faces the audience. Him, I know. He’s been around as long as I can remember. He has a niece that came to the island one summer. Ellis swears she was his first conquest.

  I’d like a first conquest—Skyla of course.

  “Minutes?” He looks up at the crowd for a volunteer. A thin man with bushy brows and glasses raises his hand. “Dr. Booth.” He nods.

  Haver opens in prayer before discussing odd news regarding parking permits and building codes. I had a feeling the faction meeting would bore me to tears.

  I glance over to the doctor who’s busy taking copious notes. Dad’s a doctor—a PhD, to be exact. Mom says he’s overeducated. He got into the morgue right out of school, taking it over from some heir of the previous owner who couldn’t figure out how to run it.

  The meeting drones on, and Logan shares the pictures of the morons trying to run us off the road.

  “We’ll look into this.” Nicholas nods from over his glasses.

  “So that’s it?” I whisper as Logan falls back in his seat.

  “That’s it.” Logan shakes his head.

  Nicholas Haver segues right back into the minutia of everyday life, discussing the potholes on Saddle Drive, and my mind goes numb from listening. If you ask me, the Faction Council is in need of new leadership. For all practical purposes, this could be a city council meeting, because not a thing about the factions has been brought up once.

  I’m so fucking bored. I wish I were back at the party. Hell, I wish I could rewind the night and have it all work out differently. Now there’s a “super power” I’d love to have.

  I imagine the house with all of its haunted memories of Chloe—those paper butterflies that I’m not even sure Skyla is aware of yet, lurking in the attic room. I picture Logan and me walking in and starting the night anew.

  “Hi!” Skyla would be eager to greet me. She wouldn’t even notice Logan and his pretty boy smile.

  I’d try to say something, and she’d place her finger over my mouth. “Don’t talk. Just kiss me.”

  I’d plunge my lips over hers, and we’d kiss right there in front of every person I know.

  It would be me that Skyla wanted to make a public proclamation with, not Logan. It would be me peppering her head with kisses, me with my arm secured around her waist—but it wasn’t.

  I don’t know if it ever will be.

  A dog barks wildly outside. I glance out the door and note a pair of shadowed figures stretching over the yard.

  It’s probably Fems or Counts, trying to eavesdrop on the meeting. Bet they’re as disappointed as I am that they ever bothered to show.

  Nicholas clears his throat. “Onto the matter of continuing debate—the fate of our brothers and sisters in the Nephil kingdom—Celestra. The global factions are conducting a tally on who should side with the dying breed. As you’re all aware, their numbers have dwindled significantly. It’s difficult to tell, but it appears Countenance is continuing with their eradication efforts. Of course, they deny it. They suggest it’s simply mathematics, not enough inbreeding within the faction.”

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath for an entire faction to save Celestra.” Logan doesn’t waste any time sharing his opinion. “I think we should form a band of people who’d like to do this on their own.”

  Nicholas points his pencil in Logan’s direction. “Go it alone, and you’ll be thrown in the face of the Justice Alliance. They’re known for making examples of people like you who look past their rules. Rumor has it there’s a heartless Caelestis at the helm. I’d watch my step if I were you.”

  Dr. Booth, the “minute man,” clears his throat. “I hear Noster is thinking about unifying with them.”

  “Noster can’t afford to side with Celestra,” someone shouts from the back.

  Logan pumps his leg like he’s stomping out a fire before raising his hand.

  “So Celestra’s on its own?” He bounces with both feet like he’s about to launch out of the chair. “Then don’t threaten me with a trial by Justice Alliance when I take things into my own hands.”

  Crap.

  Doesn’t he see there’s no point in announcing stupid shit in front of people who obviously couldn’t care less about his race? Save the hero crap for later, dude.

  The dog goes off in a barking fit again as shadows elongate over the silver lawn, long as ladders.

  Nicholas holds up a finger and listens to the viral riot going on outside. He gets up and bolts to the door, and I follow suit.

  Finally, some action.

  The night air is chilled as the fog lifts its skirt against the woods in the distance.

  A large, black pincher snarls in the shadowed portion of the yard. He stretches his neck as far as the chain will allow while two bodies crouch on the lawn. Nicholas speeds over and yanks them up like common street criminals.

  “Skyla?” Knew it.

  “What in the…” Nicholas gags as he looks the two of them over—Skyla and Ellis of all people.

  “She’s here for me,” I say, jogging over. I wish she were here for me, anywhere for me.

  Logan shoulders up besides me, out of breath and shocked as hell from the sight. I tried telling him she wanted to be here, but he didn’t think she was capabl
e. If he keeps underestimating her, then for sure I’ve found a crack in the armor.

  “All of you, out!” Nicholas herds us off the property with a sweep of his arms.

  Skyla tosses her shoulders back and shakes her head in defiance.

  “I’m not here for them.” Her voice shrills loud like the cry of a peacock.

  Nicholas examines her as if she were the least of his worries, but I bet he’s underestimating her, too.

  “I’m here because I belong here.” She adds before shooting Ellis a look.

  Logan leans in and whispers, “Distract Nick. I’ll get Skyla the hell out of Dodge.”

  I watch as he threads his arm around her waist, and a flame of envy lances my heart wide open. In the short time she’s been here, I’ve turned into a festering wound, aching over a girl I’ve waited a lifetime for.

  And it sucks.

  12

  Logan

  The Truth in Pieces

  The fog unfurls in bolts as I help move Skyla across Nicholas Haver’s yard in an effort to avoid any more drama for the evening.

  “Come on.” I bury my lips in her hair for a moment.

  I’m more than a little shocked that she made her way to the faction meeting. Lesson learned. I won’t belittle her determination again anytime soon.

  I take up her hand. What the hell are you doing here?

  Skyla looks hotter than hell on her covert mission and gives a crooked smile.

  I didn’t mean for it to sound so demanding. The last thing I want her to think is that I’m some control freak who needs to monitor her every move.

  I need more answers than you’re willing to give me. Her lips twist in a cute bow, and it takes everything in me not to kiss her.

  And you bring Ellis? I shoot Harrison a look of annoyance. I’m sure he had no intention of escorting Skyla anywhere but his bedroom.

  I needed to get behind the gates. Besides, he’s stoned. He won’t remember half this tomorrow.

  He’ll clearly remember all this tomorrow, and by the way—he’s always stoned. That’s baseline for him. A foul odor assaults my senses. New perfume?

  She glances down at the muck lining the bottom of her shoe—a memento from Spike. Yes. It’s called Craptastic. Like my night.

  We make our way over to her parents’ minivan. She takes her shoes off and tosses them in the trunk.

  “Are you guys coming back to the party?” She looks from me to Gage.

  “No,” I say, as Ellis trips his way into the passenger’s seat. I glance back at Skyla. “And neither are you.”

  I take the keys and hand them to Gage.

  “Drive Ellis back.” I offer an apologetic nod. “Stay as long as you want, but drive his truck home for him.” I wrap an arm around Skyla’s waist and give her a wicked grin. “You’re coming with me.”

  It’s time to tell Skyla everything she wants to know and then some.

  Right after I dive into her mouth for a half-hour straight.

  I’m drunk off Skyla Messenger, and I don’t ever want to recover.

  ***

  “Nobody’s home,” I whisper as we head through the door. Barron and Emma mentioned they might take in a movie tonight. I’m all for date night as long as it means Skyla and I get the house to ourselves for the next few hours.

  Charlie comes barreling in and lashes his tongue over her ankles before I can stop him.

  I’d like to lick her feet. Maybe take her in the hot tub first to wash off Charlie’s slobber, but I’d be happy to lash my tongue over her without reservation and have her giggle like she is now.

  I give a dirty grin, and her cheeks turn pink.

  She bends over and scratches at the lucky dog. “You must be Charlie.” Her underwear rise out of the back of her jeans—black lace G-string—and my dick ticks to life at the sight.

  I take her hand and lead us into the dining room, fighting the urge to lay her over the table. Instead, I listen in as she takes in Emma’s curious décor.

  A palatial rectangle sits in the middle with a gold inlaid table that’s fit to seat twelve comfortably. A massive hutch sits behind it, and on each of the glass shelves are hundreds of angel figurines. My mother would say the whole thing’s gaudy, but I find it fascinating—eccentric.

  “I’d have to agree with her.” I pull out a chair and run my fingers through her hair as she takes a seat.

  “Is there any way to turn that off?” She points at my hand.

  “Not that I know of.” Technically, it can never be turned “off.” Now, muted, that’s a different story. I pull out some paper and a pen before sitting next to her. It’s time to get down to the heart of the matter with Skyla Celestra Messenger. I hope she’s ready to digest large doses of an alternate reality. It’s been a few days since the blood draw. I’m hoping she’s had time to let things sink in, because I’m about to blow a hole through everything she ever thought she knew.

  I scrawl the word Factions across the top of the sheet and create five columns just below that.

  “So you’re finally going to tell me everything there is to know?” She purrs like a kitten while stroking my hand.

  “Maybe.” I jot things down as fast as they come to mind. I might be filling her in on all things faction, but I doubt I’m going to give her all the gory details of what it means to be a descendent of the Nephilim—especially a Celestra. No need to eviscerate her world with details she’s not ready for. “I’d never lie to you.”

  “So that means no.”

  “That means maybe.” I look up at her and meet her determined gaze. My heart breaks at the thought of making her upset, but I’d feel worse if I flat-out lied and said no.

  I push the paper in front of her, almost afraid to delve into the nucleus of who we are.

  “There are five factions of earthbound angels.” I touch down on the first column with the pen. “Celestra—that’s us.” I glance up and smile. Skyla looks less than impressed, so I move on. “Countenance, the most powerful, crooked bunch of bastards that roam the earth—think mob, but far more greedy. We don’t know who they are. They don’t make it a practice to reveal their status. They band together and share the wealth, so there’re lots of reasons for keeping their mouths shut. Plus, they don’t frown upon killing their own if they don’t cooperate. Then there’s the most common three, Noster, Levatio—that’s Gage and my uncle. Deorsum—that’s my aunt. And there you have it, factions at a glance.”

  “So Celestra has the most powerful blood?”

  “Yes.” It has exactly that and so much more.

  “Which means?” She shakes her head in frustration.

  “Which means if there were enough of us, we could rule the Nephilim kingdom. Celestra is supposedly in charge but with lame-duck status. It’s like a government, and right now, the crooks are taking over. Each faction must pay a royalty to the Counts in exchange for their protection.”

  “Protection against what? Aren’t they the ones we need protection from?”

  It’s as if she instinctively knows.

  “You’re a smart one,” I say, tapping the pen in her direction. “Technically, yes, but they claim to be protecting us against other spiritual beings called Sectors. The Sectors are like overlords of the angel armies. You’re a warrior if you hadn’t already done your homework. That’s why it’s all right to kill if your life is in danger or if you’ve been instructed to do so by your faction leader.” Or on your own, but then you’ll have the Justice Alliance shoved so far up your ass you won’t be able to breathe.

  “And is that a sufficient plea to tell your legal council before they haul your ass to prison?”

  “You won’t go to prison if you stay within those bounds. The factions take care of everything.” I hope.

  “So murder out of necessity or under orders is okay.”

  “Essentially.” Crap. This is going in the wrong direction. Why aren’t we on the couch by now?

  “I don’t exactly understand the Sectors.” She runs her te
eth over her luscious bottom lip, and it takes all my self-control not launch an assault and feast on her.

  Back to the Sectors. “I don’t either. It falls under the category of ‘wait until you’re thirty,’ but I have some theories.”

  “And what about powers? Both you and Gage are really strong. Gage knows things.” She pauses as she considers his so-called knowledge and most likely those piercing blue eyes. And, since when is Gage really strong? I’m not sure I like her considering his strength, either. “You and I can read minds, what else is there?”

  “My aunt can influence small children to do her bidding. She owns and operates the single largest daycare center on the island. Parents love her. Most Deorsum don’t have that ability. The run-of-the-mill things for them are strength and speed. You might say they got the shaft when it comes to outstanding super powers.”

  “I hear pretty well, too.” Emma walks in and introduces herself to Skyla.

  Barron sails in after her, glances over my shoulder, and nods.

  “Giving her the breakdown, I see.” He offers one of his complacent smiles. “I should have the blood work completed in a week’s time. I’m running a very detailed panel, that way we’ll know for sure if you’re Celestra or a mix or anything at all. Sometimes that happens. But if you’re a mix, we go by what you have more of. It’s just easier for labeling purposes.”

  “Great.” Skyla pushes out an exasperated breath as if she wishes we had the results right now. “I look forward to it.”

  Barron and Emma say goodnight and head upstairs.

  “We should have your parents over,” I offer. Barron and Emma, for all practical purposes, are the welcoming committee. I guess Barron sort of qualifies as the departing committee, too, but that’s not relevant and often depressing to bring up in mixed company.

  “Is one of your abilities causing super humiliation?” she asks with her mouth hanging open at my apparent gaff. But all I can think about is that little pink tongue glistening over at me and the many things I’d like to do with it.