I stagger back to Gage just as unsteady as I left him and listen in on the madness between Emerson and Chloe. There’s nothing but a sea of expletives. Logan is holding out his free hand between the two of them—the hand that’s not busy holding onto Lexy as if she were about to float away. Holy crap. I don’t think “mindfuck” is a strong enough descriptive to accurately detail the night I’m having.
“What’s going on?” I bark, looking right at Logan. Honestly, my violent inquiry has more to do with him and Lex than it does Emerson and the demon she’s trying to send back to outer darkness.
Logan slits his narrowed gaze over to Chloe. “Someone has decided that it’s her business what Emerson does on the planet while she’s here.”
Chloe steps in with her face screwed up in a knot of fury. “I merely suggested Emerson would be a good plant with the Barricade. She has Countenance lineage, her father plays Wes like a puppet—and she has an allegiance to our people now that Candace herself has gifted her an extended run on the planet.” She leans in so close to Emerson, she’s within nose biting range. “You owe Celestra that much. If it wasn’t for Celestra, you would be six feet under playing the part of buffet to an entire army of worms.”
Emerson tips her head back, her skin unearthly pale, her lips painted such a dark hue of crimson they may as well be black, and I’d swear she’s contoured her face with the exact same hue. Emerson really does take that whole Goth look to another twisted level. “If it wasn’t for you, Bishop, I wouldn’t be six feet under in the first place. You made sure I died a horrific death. If you knew the physical pain you inflicted on me, you would be on your knees begging forgiveness, licking the bottom of my shit-riddled shoes.”
“She’s got you there,” Lex harps, and Chloe hisses at her as if she were the next to go.
My gaze falls back to Logan’s arm, and at the moment I might be rooting for Chloe in that department.
Emerson nods over to me. “What do you say? Do you think my time here should be spent playing your stupid Faction reindeer games? Or should I just inflict a nice, slow painful death upon Bishop and we’ll call it a day?”
“Decisions, decisions.” I blink a quick smile to Chloe. “I don’t see the need to go with any single choice. Why don’t you go along with Chloe’s idea first? Death can wait even for the most wicked among us. Besides, I’m the one that gets to kill Chloe. The first time around was just practice.” I bare my fangs at the girl I hate most in this world before redirecting my attention back to Emerson. “I’d hate to have my mother pluck you off the planet a moment too soon. I’m sure a homicide here and there would do the trick. Would you mind playing a few spy games? I mean, we have Lexy doing the same.” I take a moment to shoot her a dirty look, but she’s too busy nuzzling her nose in Logan’s neck to notice. “But she’s pretty much useless. In fact, once you off Chloe, feel free to pepper the morgue with bodies.” I nod to Lex again, hoping she’ll take the soon-to-be deceased hint.
Emerson grunts as the lights above us flash in spastic shades of blue and red, and the entire bowling alley looks as if it’s about to be arrested. “I’ll do it. I’ll get the info straight from my dad, though.” She blows on her nails and buffs them against her collar. It’s such an elementary move it endears me to her. Emerson is emotionally still in high school. I glance around at our small crowd and frown. So is everyone here, more or less. It’s safe to say Emerson fits right in.
“That’s even better.” I look to Chloe. “And I think you should leave Emerson alone.”
“No way.” Chloe takes a step in toward her first, yet most likely not last, female kill. “Emerson and I have quite a bit of catching up to do. I want Big Daddy K to see what besties we are.” She looks to me with an expression that scolds me all on its own. “One of us needs to get in with the higher-ups of the Barricade, Skyla. If I can get Arson to trust me, maybe even Morley Harrison, Ellis’ deadbeat dad, I’d say we’re in.”
“Please, I’m practically sleeping with the enemy.” I pull Gage in, and my chest rumbles with a laugh. “I’ve got all the ins we need.” His muscles stiffen beneath me, and it hits me that we really haven’t set any ground rules for our new relationship. Gage may still be for Celestra, but it doesn’t mean he’s up for sharing the secrets of the dark side either. “Anyway”—I clear my throat—“I’m okay with it.” I shoot Emerson an apologetic smile. “Try not to kill her quite yet.”
“Funny,” Chloe bleats with that dead look on her face that suggests a casket is imminent.
Michelle and Emily stride over just as Emerson does a disappearing act.
“Just in case you bitches have been missing the bling.” Michelle shoves that rock sitting on her finger into each of our stony faces one at an unimpressed time.
Em grunts as soon as it’s her turn and gives Michelle’s hand a shove. “Get over yourself already. Liam’s not even going to end up with you.”
My mouth falls open. As much as I hate to say it, I’ve learned that along with death and taxes—you can also count on Emily Morgan’s word to come true.
“Did you get this as a divine prophecy?” I whisper to her as Lex tries to calm Michelle from slicing Em’s face open with the weaponry Liam has fashioned her with.
“What do you think?” She looks to me with that dead expression she’s honed so well over the years.
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t have any clue why the Master would show you something about Michelle Marlita Miller. She’s not even one of us. I just thought your gifts were better suited to serve the angelic realm.” I chew on the inside of my cheek a moment. “Unless there was a purpose to it.” I nod, coaxing Em to say something, anything to prove me right.
“There’s stuff I know, Messenger.” She cuts her dark gaze out toward Lexy and Michelle. “Not every super couple here tonight survives. Let’s just say it’s going to be a real shitty year for some people.” She glares my way once again and, for the life of me, I can’t figure out if she’s expecting me to read between the lines.
“Gage and I make it.” I force myself to glance away as I blink back tears.
“What?” she balks as if I genuinely stunned her. “Sorry to break it to you, Skyla, but you and Gage aren’t even a couple.”
“Yes, we are.” I take a step back to better examine her. “He’s the father of my children, Em. Hello? You’ve seen us enough to know we’re basically inseparable. We’re a family unit, and we’re not going anywhere.”
She offers up an indifferent shrug. “Suit yourself. But according to my prognosticating radar, you don’t qualify as a couple anymore.”
“That’s because we’re one of the aforementioned super couples.” I can’t help but give a smug smile along with it.
“Huh.” She doesn’t look amused. “Anyway, I have a prophecy for you, and it’s ready to burst out of me. You want it or not?”
“No,” I answer so fast I bite the air between us. “So just take your twitchy witchy little fingers and do something constructive with them, like dance or chug some vodka.” I spot my stepbrothers in the middle of an honest to God chugging contest. “Look, there’s Ethan and Drake. I bet the three of you are dying for a threesome.” I give her a firm shove. “On the dance floor!”
Em turns her head my way, those lifeless eyes bear over me, and I can’t move. I’m as paralyzed as a butterfly pinned to a wax board. Emily wanted to say something to me, gift me a vision, and I muzzled her, gave her the kiss-off.
A crowd moves between us, and it feels like a relief, like a blessing not to see her pasty face.
Gage comes over and drops a kiss over my cheek as the music takes a turn for the romantic once again.
“I got to step out for a minute.” He ticks his head toward the bar, and I spot Demetri standing with several men I don’t recognize. I’m pretty sure those were the Fems disguised as humans that Marshall showed me.
“It’s almost midnight.” I bat my lashes up at him, hoping he’ll take the hint and blow off his wicked c
oven for far more angelic pastures—namely me.
His dimples press in without the effort of a smile. Gage glances to Demetri with a scowl. “I’m sorry, Skyla. This will just take a second, I promise.” He blesses my lips with a chaste kiss and takes off.
So it begins.
I turn back to the crowd and spot Liam and Michelle nuzzling up on the makeshift dance floor. Liam has his arms snaking up and down her body, his fingers landing him directly on second base. And as happy as I am for them, I can’t help but think of Emily’s downer of a divine message. I still find it strange there would be any message for Michelle at all. Unless, of course, it was for Liam. But Em mentioned the fact the super couple shakeup would be pretty global. I glance next to them and do a double take. Logan and Lexy sway to the music, and the sight of their conjoined hips makes my blood boil in an instant.
“Hey, Messenger.” I don’t need to turn around to know it’s Ellis. I can smell the weed from a three-foot radius. But I don’t take my eyes off of Logan and Lexy. Her arms are fastened so tight around his body I hardly think his Celestra powers are a match for her. His head is pulled back, and they seem to be having a conversation. Lexy tips her head back with laughter, and my stomach bottoms out.
“Is he telling her a joke?”
“Who the hell cares.” Ellis crops up in front of me and inadvertently blocks my view, so I take a healthy step to the left. “Dude, we need to talk.”
“Not now, Ellis. I’m busy.”
“This is Faction business.” He does his best to block my vision once again, and I take a step to the right—and even so, another couple sways in front of my line of Lexy vision. Damn the people getting in my way. I take a few more steps to the left until it looks as if Ellis and I are line dancing.
“Yeah, well, I’m sort of conducting Faction business at the moment myself. Making sure the Barricade doesn’t infiltrate Celestra.” I snarl at Lex as she comes into my visual field once again.
Ellis huffs in annoyance, “Are you talking about Logan? Geez, Messenger, get over it. He told me himself he and Lex are official now.”
“He did?” Like I would ever believe a thing Ellis has to say. He’s blown half his brain cells through his lungs. This is Logan. He’s not making anything official with Lexy. He would have to lose his mind to do that. “I doubt it. I mean, he’s basically just being nice to her. She lives at—his house.” It suddenly sounds so wrong. “I mean, she’s just always around him.”
“That’s right.” Ellis gives one exaggerated nod after the next, and I can tell he’d much rather be munching on Cheetos or diving headfirst into the candy buffet my mother set out. “Dude, they’ve been seeing one another for months. He’s just been trying to, you know, keep it on the down-low as to not offend certain people.” His crimson-stained eyes look to mine.
“Me?” I balk as if it were an impossibility. “I mean, I couldn’t care less—” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence. Lex pulls Logan in by the neck, and it looks as if he’s offering up a bit of resistance. Then just like that, she attacks him with her lips, slapping over his face so hard he staggers back a step. Lex grinds her hips harder over his, and shockingly their faces are still conjoined. If it were any other couple, I’d say get a room. Okay, I’d basically ignore it, but this isn’t any other couple. This is Logan. My Logan and Lex the Skank.
My heart plummets through the floor. Has Logan been sneaking around behind my back for months seeing Lexy? Lying to me? Making it all seem too inconvenient when all along it’s what he’s wanted? My chest bucks as if I were already in the throes of tears. I take a step forward as my body begins to shake. Logan Oliver is an ass of the highest order. And then, the ultimate betrayal takes place. Logan’s hand reaches up as he digs his fingers into the back of Lexy’s hair—a classic move of passion, and my anger eclipses my sanity.
“I will not be betrayed by you.” The words stream from my lips lower than a whisper. Ellis mumbles something, but the sound of his voice, the music, the crowd, they all dissipate into another realm. All I see is Logan and Lexy enjoying their conjugal visit in the sacred place where Logan and I once took turns proposing to one another—where we laid eyes on one another for the very first time and fell in love. Logan and I had something real. Nothing contrived and carcinogenic like he and Lexy might have.
My adrenaline kicks in hard and fast as my heart rages against my chest as if it wanted out of its cage. Everything in me is red with revenge, with the absolute urge to eviscerate. Lexy Bakova has fueled a nuclear missile of hatred inside of me, and I can’t control it. I can no more control my incessant rage than I can my next breath.
“I will not have this. I will not tolerate another moment of this bullshit.” My voice rises to climactic levels, and the room bounces underneath my feet right along with my anger. I tip my head back and let out a riotous scream that has the power to rattle the universe. A loud ripping sound fills my ears as the cavernous ceiling splits down the center, tearing apart egregiously loud like a pair of old jeans, and a hole blows open straight over my head. The stars, the Paragon fog peer inside as if looking to see what all the commotion is about.
“Holy hell,” I whisper as bodies run screaming for the door. Mass chaos ensues as a deep voice comes over the speakers counting down to the new year.
“Three—two—one.” All of time seems to stop, the bodies in motion pause for a moment, and the room explodes with the cheery cry of Happy New Year. Party horns and whistles go off as “Auld Lang Syne” starts to filter through the room.
“Shit,” Logan barks as he runs over. “Ellis!” he shouts as the veins in his neck begin to bulge. “Get everyone the hell out of here.” He looks to me, panting, angry, filled with concern. “Get to safety.”
Ellis takes off, rounding up the last of the stragglers as congestion builds at the entry, but my gaze remains fixed on Logan’s citrine gaze.
“Skyla.” He grips me by the arms. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Let’s get you outside before this entire building collapses on us.”
“I did this,” I mouth, still lost in the thick of my own anger. I am blind with fury at the thought of being betrayed, and yet I know how foolish and wrong this is.
“What’s that?” He winces as the screams of the last few people in the building infiltrate the area. A jag of lightning goes off overhead, and the bowling alley winks along with it. You can smell the night jasmine as it seeps in from the gaping divide in the roof. “Come on. We need to keep you safe. You’ve got a family to think about.”
A family. One that doesn’t include Logan Oliver. Not really.
My legs move without my permission, and before I know it, I’m standing in the forest just left of the parking lot as cars honk and jump the curb in a hysterical attempt to leave the premises. A pair of sirens cut through the night like a serrated knife as they scream their way over. The fire department pulls in next to the building where Logan and Ellis do their best to get this next part of the night over with.
Chloe comes up beside me, and we stare at the melee together.
“And there you have it,” I whisper. “A night filled with Fems, the feds, with resurrected Fems and feds, with Emerson Kragger and the entire twisted Winters clan, and the thing that makes me blow the roof off the place is Lexy Bakova.”
“You did this?” Chloe sounds amused but not convinced.
I take a dismal step forward, unable to look away from that overgrown barn with debris lying over the north face of the roof. “I did it.” I shake my head in disbelief myself.
“So it’s safe to say you were witness to the lip smack seen around the world. It hurts like a bitch to see the person you love with someone else, doesn’t it, Skyla?”
“It hurts like a bitch,” I repeat low and monotone as if it were my new mantra. “I blew the fucking roof off, Chloe,” I marvel as the magnitude of what just happened begins to sink in.
“Well, then, Messenger. It looks as if you just unlocked another power. If I were
you, I’d pen dear old Lexy-Poo a thank you. But don’t bother sending it anytime soon.” Chloe steps forward and bounces her shoulder off mine before nodding to the entry where Logan is holding a distraught Bakova. “I doubt she’ll be opening any mail until the honeymoon is over.”
That ripe rage begins to rattle my bones again, and this time I force myself to turn away. Instead, I walk deeper into the woods behind the bowling alley, deep into the comforting arms of darkness, nothing but the smell of raw earth and the burn of fog in my nostrils.
A pair of arms wrap themselves around me, and I gasp as a hand slithers over my mouth. But those feel-good vibrations give away the perpetrator without the slightest glance in his comely direction.
Ms. Messenger. Marshall’s chest expands over my back, and I lean into him for the full effect of those feel-good vibes. God knows I need them. Look due east. Don’t move a hair on your body.
I glance in every direction at once because how in the heck am I supposed to know which way is due east? Do I look like a human compass?
I glance back at him, and he frowns. To your right, Skyla. Past the building into the thicket.
I follow directions and, sure enough, I spot a small crowd, men conjoined shoulder to shoulder as if it were a huddle.
Listen. Marshall’s thumb brushes gently over my cheek, and I lean out a bit to pick up the most errant sound. Slowly a choir of voices rises above the wind. It sounds like a chant, a song, a bevy of conversations going on at once. My eyes strain to see past the snaking white fog as it dips its icy fingers into the woods. All I can properly make out is a wall of dark shadows.
Throne of Fire Page 33