We get back up to the ridge and I take in a few deep lungfuls of fresh night air. I pluck off my shoes and toss them in a plastic bag that I find floating around the trunk of the minivan.
“Are you guys coming back to the party?” I ask looking from Logan to Gage.
“No.” Logan observes as Ellis stumbles into the passenger side of the minivan. “And neither are you.”
He takes the keys I’m holding rather loosely and hands them over to Gage.
“Drive Ellis back. Stay as long as you want, but drive his car home for him.” He turns to me. “You’re coming with me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Facts
The shutters are drawn and a small glow of light warms the Oliver’s sprawling estate.
“Nobody’s home.” He informs me as we enter through the front.
A lethargic lab wags his tail around us nervously as he sniffs forcibly over by my feet.
“You must be Charlie.” He was out back in the fields when I was here the other day, so we missed our first meeting.
Logan leads me into the dinning room. 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.” Logan rubs his thumb against my hand.
“Is there any way to turn that off?” I can’t seem to keep forgetting he can hear my thoughts.
“Not that I know of.” He pulls out a sheet of paper and a pen from a small desk off to the side, before we take a seat at the table.
He starts making charts and writing down names, the word faction is written in giant letters across the top.
“Are you going to tell me everything there is to know?” I’m thrilled by the prospect.
“Maybe.” He keeps at his work until he’s done. “I’d never lie to you.”
“So that means no.”
“That means maybe.” He looks almost apologetic.
He spins the paper around and scoots in next to me.
“There are five factions of earthbound angels.” He taps his pen against the first one. “Celestra—that’s us.” A brief impression of a smile appears. “Countenance, 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 reveal for obvious reasons. They band together and share the wealth, so there’s lots of reason for keeping their mouths shut. Plus, they don’t frown upon killing their own kind 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.”
“Which means?” I can tell I’m going to have to pull all of the answers out of him, which isn’t fair because I don’t know all the right questions to ask.
“Which means if there were enough of us, we could rule the Nephilim kingdom. It’s like a government and right now the crooks are in charge. 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?”
He points the pen in my face.
“You’re a smart one. 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 you’ve been instructed to do so by your faction leader.”
“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.”
“So murder out of necessity, or under orders is OK.”
“Essentially.”
“I don’t exactly understand the Sectors.” I say.
“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. 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 abilities.”
“I hear pretty well too.” A tall brunette with her hair up in a bun makes her way over and extends her hand.
She’s wearing a royal blue suit and has on an obnoxious shade of orange lipstick, but she’s absolutely stunning. I’d love for my mom to meet her.
“Emma.” Her fingers are frozen, so limp she barely moves within my seemingly harsh grasp.
“Skyla.”
Logan’s uncle enters and gives a slight wave. He looks over my shoulder and nods.
“Giving her the breakdown I see. I should have the blood work completed in a weeks time. 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, just easier for labeling purposes.”
“Great. I look forward to it.”
They exit with polite nods and smiles. Second thought, my mother would eat her for breakfast, and Tad would embarrass the hell out of me. It’s probably best they never meet. But of course now that I don’t want them to…
“We should have your parents over.” Logan suggests as though he’s just had some great epiphany.
“Is one of your powers causing super humiliation?”
He shakes his head and frowns.
“They’ll meet one day.” He starts drawing boxes around all the faction names. “Levatio. The lucky bastards as I like to call them.”
“Are they lucky?” I’m fascinated to learn more about them, especially since Gage is one.
“Not really. They’ve got strength and speed, the knowing, teleportation.”
“How cool is that?” Now I totally wish Gage were here so he could bolt around the room.
“Noster’s same as Levatio with the exception they can see through walls, and oh yeah, both can levitate.”
“As in fly?”
“It’s not long range or anything, they can’t orbit the earth, but yes.”
“That’s so freaking fantastic.” I say dazzled by all these ubiquitous superpowers.
He drops his pen and folds his hands together.
“And what about us?” I take hold of his eyes with mine. An electrical current sizzles between us. He’s stunning and sharp, and annoyingly outright elusive with information.
“Read minds.” He holds out his hands and shrugs. “Strength, speed.” His expression clouds over. “Time travel.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Principles
Gage comes in at three in the morning and says the exact words I don’t want to hear.
“Party’s still going strong.”
“We should get back there.” I spike up on the couch and stab my eyes around in the dark, in an effort to wake up. Logan put on a DVD, and then we started kissing and I must have fallen asleep.
I look over at Logan totally embarrassed and guilty.
“I really do love kissing you.” I say stupidly.
He pulls a face.
“Stay here. You’re going to want to kick everyone out. No point in being a buzz kill. Besides, it’ll be four by the time we get there.” Logan pulls me in towards him.
He’s right.
“I won’t be able to sleep knowing they’re destroying the house.”
“Nobody’s destroying anything.” Gage flops on the couch opposite us. “Ellis was having a goodtime, didn’t want to come home.”
“You have a goodtime?” I’d feel kind of bad if Gage said no. There were tons of girls there—girls that would have been supermodels back home, raking in millions.
A twinge of jealousy cinches in my stomach, and I shake my head trying to get rid of the feeling. I’m into Logan. I don’t need Gage. I could care less if he were with ten girls at once.
“So you up on all the celestial B.S.?” He asks.
“It’s not B.S.” I shoot back. My father was one and I don’t like him talking that way.
“Sorry.” He covers the top of his head with a pillow. “You guys try anything out?”
I shake my head. Logan, for whatever reason, doesn’t seem that into exploring powers with me.
“Maybe I’ll help you out sometime.” Gage offers.
“Maybe you won’t.” Logan counters.
“I want to.” I say. “I want to try things out. And you said my powers could grow. It’s like a muscle, right? The more you use it the stronger it gets?”
“No.” The whites of Logan’s eyes widen. “The more you use it the more trouble you can get into. Definitely not like that.”
“I know enough to be careful.”
“You know enough to be dangerous.” The words speed out of Logan.
We sit there, we three, with our eyes glinting in the dark back and forth at one another like ping-pongs.
I don’t like the chains of restraint Logan’s put over me. I’m not an infant, and according to Gage I can’t get myself killed.
I look from Logan to Gage. I might have to take Gage up on his offer. It’s Logan’s own fault if I end up going behind his back.
I want to know what I’m capable of. I want to feel it. And if I really can time travel maybe I can save my father?
***
Sunday afternoon I head back home.
Gage was right. The house wasn’t destroyed. It was merely decimated.
I walk stunned from room to room. The kitchen has a lawn chair I’ve never seen before dangling out of the sink.
The couch is configured differently in the living room and every single cushion is nowhere to be seen. The curtains have been yanked down on one side, and there’s a clear slit down the center where the light comes through, and it’s mocking me.
“I’m toast.” I sludge through empty beer bottles and soda cans, mystery wrappers and some unidentifiable things until I hit the stairs. A trail of some dark liquid has been poured on the first five steps, and something like gum is stuck to the rest of the carpet leading on up.
I check Drake’s room first. His bed’s unmade and to tell the truth I have no clue if that’s normal. Mia and Melissa’s room looks untouched. Both bunks are still laden with stuffed animals arranged face out and in size order, so that’s a no. Next is my room.
My freaking room!
Brielle’s sprawled out on the bed stark naked with her shoes still on. I run over and throw my t-shirt on her from off the floor in an effort to cover her body.
“You sleep with somebody in here?” I don’t really care that she cheated on Drake, it’s just that I’m going to have to burn the bed, that’s all.
She gives a guilty laugh, bearing her teeth in an awkward smile a little too long.
I head back out the hall and shut the door tight. Thank God Logan didn’t venture in behind me.
My parent’s room is next. The door sticks, and my heart drops thinking someone might be bolted in there. I bust through and there’s no one except one very rumpled bed and I’m absolutely positive my anal, male chauvinist pig of a stepfather would not have allowed my mother to leave it this way. He’d hogtie her in apron strings and chain her to the bedpost if she tried to get away with crap like this.
“I’m going to die. My parents are going to execute the world’s harshest judgment upon me and I’ll never leave the house again. We need to go back in time.” I plead to Logan.
He shakes his head looking mournful over the situation.
“You can’t use that for something like this. It falls under domestic detail. I’ll call Gage. We’ll clean up as much as we can.”
Nat and Kate swing by as well. We manage to get all the trash off the floors and recover all but one of the sofa cushions. It looks toothless, with three brown cushions and one white gaping space with nothing but the spring cover below.
I collect the bedding from mom and Tad’s room, and start the wash. It’s going to take three hours before I wash all of those fat, fuzzy blankets, and that oversized comforter will never dry by tonight.
“I might be homeless after today.” I let Logan cradle me in the living room. I find his lips and forget about the whole mess my life’s turned into.
The front door jiggles and a pair of footsteps make their way over.
I look up expecting to see Gage or Bree or anyone else. But I don’t. Instead I see my mother.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Red Handed
Tad, Drake and the girls tumble in after my mom.
“Skyla Laurel Messenger, get yourself upstairs now!” She shrieks. “And excuse me, mister who kisses my daughter in my living room, you can find the front door thank you very the hell much!” Her voice hits that upper register I haven’t heard in years since she had one of her famous blowouts with my father.
I head on up, and pause at the top.
“Oh my word!” She screams.
I can hear her roaming deeper and deeper, and now Tad is shouting something, and they seem to be shouting in unison and at each other at the same time. I see Nat and Kate leave. Logan’s truck rolls down the driveway, so Gage must have went out the back.
“What’s going on?” Brielle staggers out of my bedroom.
I motion her back inside and press my finger to my lips.
Mia and Melissa gallop upstairs lugging their overnight bags.
“You’re in deep shit.” Mia whispers as they saunter past me into their room.
Drake comes up and sees Brielle.
“Cool.” He relaxes into a dorky grin and they go off in his room together.
I can’t believe this. I let Brielle convince me into doing something that I knew, I knew was a very bad idea. I feel like beating myself, giving myself black eyes over the entire event, but I know my mother will probably do that for me.
Heavy footsteps come this way. I duck into my room and shut myself in.
A choir of disappointed murmurs buzz through the other side of the door, then a violent shriek when my mother, most likely, sees her unmade bed.
My door swings open and I huddle in the corner fearing for my life.
“Get out here now.” She annunciates every single word.
Reluctantly I exit the safety of my own bedroom and head out into the hall.
“Who did you have in this house this weekend? And I know that lot of not so innocent looking kids helping you clean was just the tip of the iceberg.”
“All the trashcans are filled with beer bottles.” Tad shouts as he climbs the stairs. I didn’t even know he had left. Maybe he has super speed.
“Skyla!” My mother rages.
“I didn’t drink. I swear!”
“Well bully for you. That means I had a bunch of drunk teenagers at my house, and if anything happens to them because of their little trip to Landon tavern it’s on my head!”
I shrink back a little. I hate seeing my mother this mad. I hate the sound of her voice when it’s locked in anger.
“Did you have sex with that boy here?”
“No.” My hands fly up over my ears. We’ve definitely drifted into the relationship no-fly zone. “I’m a virgin. I swear.” File that under things I never thought I’d scream out loud.
“Yeah, well too bad there’s no drug test for that, because I don’t really believe you.”
OK that made no sense and managed to add another riff in our already deteriorating relationship.
“She’s probably on drugs too.” Tad clasps his forehead and paces in a small frantic circle. I bet he regr
ets marrying my mother, regrets the sloppy baggage she dragged into it like some smelly carcass.
“And why is the minivan parked in the street?” My mother demands.
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