“What about Fems? I’m not trying to be facetious. I’m just asking an honest question. I’m married to one myself.”
Laken shakes her head. “Technically, you’re not. If Gage has risen from the dead, then he’s unable to partake in the covenant of marriage with you. In other words, he’s out of your league quite literally.”
A quick pang of grief runs through me. “Oh, marriage is just a silly piece of paper anyhow.” Not a fiber of my being believes that bullshit. I don’t dare lift my eyes from the page at hand. It’s bad enough I can feel the heat of their stare.
Laken gives a soft sigh. “You’ll figure it out.”
As quick as my anger comes, it leaves in a flash. “Laken, that day you mentioned the books, you were about to tell of another text you have access to and Wesley stopped you.”
Her mouth falls open. The color leaves her face as she looks to Coop for assistance. “I don’t know how Wes feels about that one. I’m guessing he wouldn’t want you to see it.” Her voice is soft and trembling with slight confusion.
Coop shoots me a look that says he’s feeling anything but patient. “If Wes is such a good guy, he really won’t mind.”
I nod into this insane theory. “And if Celestra has had the Counts pegged wrong this whole time, then I want to hear about it. I mean, if you believe so strongly in their cause, I want to understand why.”
A dull croak emits from her throat as she glances to Coop. “Top shelf there’s a box behind the books in the center.” Her words come out breathless as her eyes flick to the exact location. “You’ll need a ladder, or you can use a chair.”
Coop is airborne and balancing on his seat before she gets through the last sentence. He procures a rather large black wooden box that looks like a miniature pirate treasure chest and lands it onto the table as carefully as he can, but you can hear the thud and deduce it’s heavy as hell.
Tobie starts in again, something about Daddy as she points to the box then me, and I can’t help but feel as if I’m about to be ratted out by the world’s most adorable snitch.
Coop does the honors, and I’d swear on all that is holy his face glows as if the contents of that box were illuminated. Carefully, he extracts a large black book, and it too looks to be bound in leather. The impressions over the cover look as if they resemble an hourglass, and the etchings alongside it look like the same script written on The Hallowed Tomes.
Tobie lets out a sharp yelp, and Laken wastes no time in springing into action, picking her up and rocking her before taking a seat and coloring along with her. Tobie babbles away, and I can actually make out every other word. Tobie is so bright for her age, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if she was speaking in clear sentences before the year was through. And once she begins to do so, you bet your bottom dollar I’ll be listening in on every single goody. If I’ve learned anything from Beau and Misty, it’s that no secret is safe with a toddler. I can’t wait for Wesley to learn that tidbit the hard way. I would love it so much if in the mother of all ironies it was Chloe and Wesley’s daughter that gave me the vital information I needed to stop the Barricade in its wicked tracks. Gage comes to mind, and my heart aches for a moment. I’ll be stopping my husband in his tracks, too, but I don’t for a minute believe there’s a wicked bone in that new body of his.
Cooper whips out his phone and begins snapping one picture after the other, starting with the cover, then moving slowly page to page.
Laken glances up from settling Tobie and gasps. “I don’t think you should be doing that.” Her voice quivers as if she felt genuine fear over it. “I mean, the other books, Wes is fine with. I think he’s just not sure of that one, you know? There must be a reason it’s out of sight.”
“I’m sorry. I have to.” Coop picks up the pace.
“Laken, has Wes read this?” I ask, examining the text for a brief moment. There’s not a stitch of anything that resembles English.
“I don’t know.” She pulls forward one of The Hallowed Tomes. “Wes says only these have ever been transcribed. They were copied word for word in the Dark Ages.”
“Huh.” I pull one forward myself and carefully open it to the middle. “Medieval times for a medieval work,” I quip, and Coop shoots me a look. He’s right. I shouldn’t rock the boat with Laken. There’s a time and place for sarcasm, and unfortunately it has nothing to do with my best friend anymore. Laken is fragile. And she’s going out on a limb to get us to side with Wesley of all people. I scan the page for something that might be able to do that and come across a list of dueling soldiers in battle.
“Coop,” I say. “I think this is detailing the last Faction War—the one before ours.” I scan page after page, trying to drink it down, but it’s drier than my old chemistry book. I’ll need to study these in depth.
He glances up briefly before getting back to the gargantuan task at hand. “The war that shifted Celestra back into the power position?”
Laken huffs, “Wes says it’s a myth that the Fems caused the Dark Ages. It’s just something that happened to coincide in human history. The Fems had such a brief time as chief celestial officers. And by the time the Sectors were back in power—after that war you’re referencing, the Dark Ages continued for at least a half century more. But nobody likes to remember those details.”
Coop and I exchange a glance. The feds might have wiped Laken’s memory, but Wes has done a bang-up job of filling her with his own discolored version of reality.
“Yes, well”—I clear my throat—“we fought again a few years back. Celestra won. The Sectors maintain their position.”
“And the world is as scary a place as it’s ever been,” she’s quick to point out. “Maybe we should hold the Sectors accountable for that?” Her lips curl up at the tips as if she’s fully aware she’s razzing me.
“As I was about to say”—I pull the basket of crayons closer to Tobie, and she grunts with approval—“you fought in that war, too, Laken. You fought for Celestra.”
A hard groan comes from her as if I had just pulled a Chloe and mortally wounded her. “My God, where was my head?” She looks to Coop and sighs. “I’m sorry. I mean no offense to either of you. And I’m sure you’re both thinking that I’m going to wake up one day and say the same thing about my life at present. But if you really knew me, you’d know that my heart has always belonged to Wesley. And as for Faction business—Wesley made sure to educate me in a nonbiased manner.”
Coop clears his throat as if it were all he could do to keep from having a violent outburst.
My eyes remain trained on the page at hand even though I can’t keep my thoughts straight on what it’s trying to tell me. What Laken is telling us seems far more damning. I force myself to look at the words. Upon the eve of war it would be prudent for a Faction to make a righteous sacrifice, going before their brothers in an effort to circumvent the carnage at hand. Prudent, I muse. Sounds brutal but makes sense. I pull another volume forward, and my eyes land over something that resembles a poem. Deep love of the enemy is the downfall of many. My heart stops cold. I close the book carefully, dreading what it might be trying to tell me.
“I have an idea.” I swallow hard, trying to maintain my composure myself. I’m sure it kills Coop to keep hearing Laken declare her undying love for Wes, especially since he’s such a brute beast when it comes to our people. Poor Laken has no clue what she’s really up against. “Since you heard Wes out so copiously, why not let us lead you through the exact dissertation of our people—totally unbiased and perhaps that will illuminate how we see things so differently. Or more to the point, how you yourself saw things so differently before.”
Laken looks to Tobie as if she were a direct extension of Wes, and she is. “I think that’s a brilliant idea. At least this way I might figure out what went wrong and how I strayed to begin with.”
Coop pauses from his photo efforts and casts a devilish grin my way. If he thinks this is going great, I’ve got one more surprise for him.
“W
ell, I’ll be glad to guide you through it, but Cooper is going to have to do for now. I have to get back to the boys. Do you feel okay about being alone with Cooper? I’d never want to leave you in a position where you didn’t feel safe.”
Laken laughs as if it were absurd. “Of course, I feel safe around Cooper. He’s been nothing but a perfect gentleman. In fact”—she looks to Coop and softens—“he feels like family.” Coop’s eyes enlarge with a ray of hope. “Sort of like a big brother.”
“Ah, I see.” I give a little shrug in Coop’s direction. At least he made the familial cut. He should be content with that for now. I have no doubt once she sees how charming and not evil he is, she’ll fall right back in love with him in no time. “I’ll be back to check on you.” I give Laken a hug and a kiss and the same to Tobie.
“Skyla!” Tobie says my name clear as day. “Mama.” She giggles while holding my cheeks hostage then points to Laken. “Mama!”
“You’re a lucky girl, Tobie.” I’m not sure if I just spouted a lie. “You have two mamas that care so much about you.” And that right there is the unmitigated truth. Ironically, not one of those mothers happens to be Chloe.
I wave at the three of them, and Coop catches up to me at the base of the hall.
“Thank you,” he whispers, giving a sly glance in Laken’s direction. “I’ll be shooting everything I’ve got to your phone.” He looks to me with his jaw set tight. “I think we should let Ezrina try to transcribe this for us. I wouldn’t tell your Sector friend.”
“Why not? Marshall is for us, remember?”
“He’s also for himself, and this text in particular—I have a feeling there’s a reason it’s never been transcribed.”
“Okay. We’ll go to Ezrina first. But then, once we realize it’s fine, we’re going straight to Marshall.” My heart thumps unnaturally at the thought of keeping something from him.
Coop nods as we part ways. I make my way through Wesley’s monolithic library and back to the upper level where Wes and Gage are seated at a glass table in the corner of the enormous living room, pouring over a mountain of paperwork.
Gage hops up as soon as he sees me and jogs over, and I can’t help but think it’s because he doesn’t want me anywhere near that hacked up forest situated between them.
“You ready to take off?” I ask, hopeful. I really do want to get to the boys.
“No, actually.” He turns to Wes a moment, who’s too absorbed to even glance up. “Why don’t I send you back? I’ll drop you off in the woods in front of the house? The closest?”
“The woods are fine. I can use some fresh air for a moment.”
“Sounds good.” He blesses me with a kiss, long and heated, a carnal promise sealed over my lips, and once I open my eyes, I’m back on Paragon, alone, my body instantly cooled by the mist folding its loving arms around me as if it were welcoming me home.
My phone bleats, and I pull it out of my pocket, fully expecting to see a text from Gage, but it’s from Emily.
I need your help. At the Falls of Virtue. Can you meet me there?
Emily needs my help? I’m honored. I’m usually the last person Em is interested in speaking to unless the good Lord makes her do it. I glance to the Landon house with its peachy glow. It’s late in the afternoon, but the cloud cover is so thick and dark you’d think it were evening. Tad’s not home, thus the peachy glow. Once he leaves the premises, we feel free to use modern conveniences like electricity. I frown at the door, knowing full well Demetri is kicking off his shoes in there and putting those stinker-feet of his up on Tad’s coffee table. It may not be marble imported from Turkey, but Tad Landon earned that particleboard wonder with his own blood, sweat, and tears. I hate the way Demetri thinks the world and everything in it is for his picking. But I suppose the boys and my mother will survive another hour in his care. And Em’s message did sound rather urgent.
I text Em back and let her know I’m on my way before plucking the keys from my purse and hopping into the minivan.
Because that’s what friends do—they help one another.
Laken blinks to mind. God knows Laken is going to need all the help I can give her.
The Falls of Virtue are located pretty much dead center of the island. There’s a grassy knoll that you need to crest if you park behind them, or you can take another ten-minute drive through a narrow trail in the woods and end up in a dirt lot at the base. Since Em sounded stressed, I choose to park behind the knoll and hike my way through damp wild grass up to my knees. I hit the top, panting, and observe the tail end of a truck in the dirt lot as I begin my descent.
“Emily?” I shout as I carefully traverse stones and a fallen tree on my way toward the beautiful sight below. The grass is a vibrant emerald green, and the verdant color juxtaposed against the powder blue lagoon looks simply majestic. There’s a thrush of lavender to the left of it, and a wild overgrowth of rosemary bushes to the right offering up an intoxicating perfume for the senses. The surge of water is so loud and commanding with its constant rush of thunder. As soon as I hit the bottom, I turn and feast my eyes on the wonder before me. Three crystalline waterfalls evenly dispersed pour into a pool of water at the base.
For some reason, the Falls aren’t nearly as loud down here at the bottom as they were at the top of the hill, and I can only figure it’s because sound travels up. I head to the edge and let the cool spray of mist wash over me, baptizing me with every good memory I’ve ever had at this location. When I first met Logan, he brought me here and I was so blown away by the sight I asked if they had unicorns here, too. I then let him know I’d want to get married here someday. A couple of years later, Logan made that happen for me—with him as the groom. My God, I loved Logan? Have I ever fallen out of love with him? I scan my heart for answers, but I don’t think I have. I’m sure you can fall out of love with people, but not me, not with Logan Oliver. I head over and steal a moment to kneel down and run my fingers through the crystalline water and gasp.
“It’s warm,” a male voice calls from behind, and I startle before turning and filling with relief when I see that familiar handsome face watching over me.
“Logan?” I rush over and offer a quick embrace. “Where’s Emily? Is she in trouble? Em?” I shout over his shoulder as I scan the periphery for signs of life, but there are none.
“I don’t think Emily’s coming to this party.” The side-lying dimple I gifted him depresses. I’m still amused his new body has it at all. Logan looks cuttingly handsome on any given day, but for some reason, his beauty is magnified at the Falls of Virtue. It’s understandable to me. This is where we entered into that sacred covenant. “Did you get this message?” He shows me his phone, and it’s verbatim of what mine said.
“Emily Morgan.” I sigh. “Do you think?”
He nods. “Your mother has been after everyone and anyone to work with her, and I think I’m beginning to realize why.”
“Wow.” I glance to the sky. “You must have a lot of Celestial time on your hands to play matchmaker.” I don’t bother hiding the undertone of anger in my voice. She knows I want to hold my family together, and she’s working against me. “Why is she so insistent on getting her way?”
“I don’t know,” he says equally frustrated as he whips off his shoes and socks. “But that lake is heated like a hot tub, and this is one supernatural event I’m not letting go to waste. You should join me. It’ll probably help you destress.”
God knows I need it. He strips down to a pair of black skintight boxers before climbing to the highest boulder and diving straight in. A pool of whitewash creates a circle where he landed, and Logan emerges with his hair slicked back, his body glistening like an Adonis as he lets out an energetic howl.
“It’s perfect!” He lands on his back and swims out a few feet before floating over the skin of the water like a dead man. But Logan Oliver isn’t dead, not anymore. And he looks as if he’s having the time of his second or third life. “You coming in or not?” he shouts up ov
er the roar of the Falls.
I can either steal a moment to enjoy a soothing oversized hot tub or rush back to the house where Demetri and his bare feet wait for me.
“Oh heck, what’s another hour?” I mumble as I struggle to take off my clothes in record time. I fling my shoes in two directions, toss my sweater over my shoulders, exposing a cotton nude-colored bra to Logan, peel off my jeans, and discover myself in a pair of yellow lace boy shorts, appropriate since I was wearing boy shorts the last time we dove into these waters together. The ironic thing is, I only own two pair. I’ve migrated to a silky bikini cut that helps my jeans glide on effortlessly, but with the chaos of life I’m down to the dregs in the clean undergarment department.
Logan lets out a catcall as I climb down the boulders to the waterline.
“Don’t tell Gage I did that.” He gives a playful wink as he swims back a few strokes in the lagoon.
“Please, I’ve worn less with a bathing suit. I used to own quite a collection of G-strings when I lived back in L.A. Don’t tell my mother I did that.” I dip my foot into the water and purr like a kitten. “Thanks, Mom.” I wink up at the sky. Logan is right. Only a supernatural event could have heated these waters, unless, of course, a portal to hell opened up right beneath Paragon. Gage and that haunted realm Demetri gifted him, Paragon in Nocturne, come to mind—which is in theory the underbelly of the island.
I stand up straight, scout out the deepest spot beneath the rocks, and pencil dive right in. The warm arms of the water pull me under, embracing me with all their might, loving me with their wet kisses in the most intimate places. I open my eyes a moment as I continue to plummet and watch as the water carbonates around me, racing me to the top, beating me by a mile. A single ray of light shines over me, lending me its guiding hand as I catapult back up to the surface and break the waterline gasping for air.
Throne of Fire Page 36