Throne of Fire

by Addison Moore

  “Die, Chloe. Give up the ghost,” I grit it through my teeth. “Do us both a favor and fly the hell out of your body. You don’t get Gage as a door prize for sticking around.”

  Chloe reaches up and jabs her thumb into my eye and I twist away letting out an arduous scream, her hands quickly clawing at her own neck as if begging for mercy from the chain itself. Instead of letting go, I firm my grip, solidifying my mission to off this wicked witch once and for all. Chloe bucks and writhes. Her legs go on a wild kicking spree, but I take the beating. Chloe knees me hard in the pelvic bone and, my God, she may have shattered it, but I’m relentless in my pursuit.

  Emerson gives a raucous applause, howling and cheering me on as if she had money on the fight, but it’s not until I hear someone howling my name from a distance do I dare turn my attention back to the Madison Lights Ballroom.

  “Skyla!” That familiar boom, that familiar frame charging in this direction. It’s Gage. Behind him is another dark figure, too wide to be Logan, too quick and lucid to be Ellis.

  “Skyla!” Brody Bishop roars as he knocks me down to the sand, latching onto me as we roll five times straight before he lands on top of me. “Skyla”—he pants as his mouth moves over my cheek and his lips cup my ear—“I can’t catch my breath.” Skyla, can you hear me?

  “Yes,” I grunt, trying my best to push him off. I glance back and note Gage is helping Chloe. My God, why in the hell is he always coming to her rescue? For shit’s sake. Maybe he’s not getting lucky tonight.

  This is important, Skyla. Brody pins me down with his limbs. To an outsider, Brody and I look to be locked in a lover’s embrace, but we are far from that.

  I look up at him. Whatever you have to say, do it quickly. I’m in a murderous mood tonight, and my appetite for destruction just so happens to be craving a Bishop.

  Speaking of which, Chloe should be dead. Why in the hell does she have nine lives? I know for a fact Brody can hear me because he happens to have enough coveted Celestra blood running through his body to qualify—thus the telepathy, of course.

  A dull laugh vibrates from his chest to mine. Chloe’s not going anywhere until your mother is through with her, but that’s not what this is about. He pulls back until his glossy eyes are pegged to mine. Dudley found me—said he was looking for you or The Pretty One, whoever that might be. But he gave me this message. He says he can’t interfere with Faction business, but a credible source has it that Noster just found a way to hide the markers. If this is true—if it takes—we don’t need to fear the Barricade, Skyla. They need to fear us.

  “What?” I pant over his lips in a fevered rush. It’s as if the cool sand beneath us just pulled me into a loving embrace. The stars in the sky above me glisten like crushed glass, winking in approval at the blessing at hand. And, suddenly, Brody Bishop gleams like the most ethereal being on the planet. It is true—blessed are the beautiful feet of those that bring good news.

  A rapturous cry escapes me as I wrap my body around Brody like a blanket and we roll around the shoreline reveling in this new reality, this new and perfect world we have come to live in. We roll around with laughter in our mouths, relief, the intensity of understanding how very powerful, how very needed this news was.

  “Gage doesn’t know.” His lips tickle my ear. “He thought I tracked him down because of my sister, and I went with it.” Brody rolls off me, landing with his back to the sand, and the two of us pant into the night sky, still riding the high on what’s quickly becoming a night to remember. And here I thought I’d be remembering it, celebrating it for an entirely different reason. Brody is right, Chloe didn’t die because my mother is holding her soul hostage on Earth. God knows heaven and hell don’t want a thing to do with her.

  I glance behind me to find Gage jogging in this direction, Chloe still clutching at her neck as he leaves her. My stomach sours at the thought of him offering her an ounce of comfort. Maybe he wasn’t.

  “Skyla,” he calls out as he gives me a hand and pulls me to my feet. Gage places the Eye of Refuge back around my neck and lands a kiss to my lips. “Brody”—he gifts Brody a swift kick in the ribs—“dude, the plan was I tackle Skyla—you deal with your sister.”

  Brody bounces to an upright position. “I got a little carried away, I guess.” A crooked grin settles over his face. “I’d better go make sure she’s okay.”

  He takes off, and Gage wraps his arms around me. “Sorry. Brody was losing his shit. I tried to hold him off as much as possible. I thought you might have finished her off by now.”

  “Really?” The residual glee still clings to me from Brody’s good news, but I do like the fact Gage was in full support of Chloe’s demise. That helps erase any dark thoughts that my mother kick-started regarding the two of them. “Well, thank you for giving me a fighting chance.” I lean against his chest and listen to the steady wallop of his heart.

  “Look at that.” He points farther south on the shoreline as Logan and I land on top of one another, a kiss passed between the two of us. “And he’s back.” Gage gives a quick pinch to my ribs.

  “We were together at that point, Gage. You know, it’s as if all the time Logan and I had was just a small window of a month or so before you and I became the it couple of West High.”

  “Yeah, well, it was all for show in the beginning.”

  “It’s not for show anymore.” I pull his chin my way with the crook of my finger until those steely blue eyes are planted right where they belong, over me. “You know I really wanted to dance with you that night.” I nod toward the building.

  “By all means”—he presses me in close by the small of my back as we begin to sway—“I don’t think we should waste another minute.” There’s something sad about the penetrative look he’s giving me. “What did Brody really want?”

  And there it is.

  My heart thuds to a complete stop. There’s not enough music in the world to pull us from our horrible reality.

  He shakes his head just enough. “You don’t have to tell me, Skyla. I understand.” His voice is low and quiet.

  “Gage.” I close my eyes a moment. “You’re everything to me, my husband, the father of my children—in fact, we really should have a long talk about Sage—”

  “We definitely should.” A dull laugh chokes him for a moment.

  “You’re my best friend.” The next sentence never quite makes it out of my mouth. Instead, I just stand there gagging on my breath.

  “I’m your enemy, Skyla.” His dimples dig in, accentuating the grief in his eyes. “I get it.”

  “You know it’s silly. I trust you. Why would you use anything against me?” I glance back to the southern shoreline, but Logan and I have already taken off. I’m probably in the woods somewhere begging Ezrina for mercy by now. “I’m going to tell you.” I pump my shoulders, clearly undeterred by the fact he just spewed. “It doesn’t matter at this point who does and doesn’t know because it’s simply a truth.” I bite down on the jubilation as it begs to bubble out of me once again. “Noster”—I whisper before glancing over my shoulder and spotting Brody and Chloe with a small crowd around them—“Noster found a way to hide the markers,” I pant up at my beautiful husband. Gage loves my people as much as I do. “Wesley didn’t beat us to the punch after all, Gage. He will never have the ability to lord it over us again. He’s not only lost his powers—he’s about to lose his mind.”

  His expression irons out. His mouth slowly opens, but it’s not wonder on his face. It’s horror. “Shit,” he hisses, closing his eyes momentarily.

  “Yes, I know. Wes is going to be pissed. He’ll react like a cat in a cage that’s slowly being lowered into a well.” I can’t help but grin as I glance back to the swelling crowd on the beach. “It looks like the band’s back together.” I make a face at Chloe as the Bitch Squad circles around her while she clutches at her neck. Bree and Nat are equally intrigued and look rife with anger over what I’ve just put her through. Both Melody and Emerson are glaring in
my direction but for different reasons, I suspect. “You know—why don’t you and Brody take them back? There’s someone in those woods that I’m dying to talk to.” My mother—I mouth the words as if it made a speck of difference regarding whether or not I catch her off guard.

  His brows peak. “I can come back and help you out with that.”

  “I’m fine, I promise. Besides, the boys are probably missing us like crazy.” I hike up on my tiptoes and press a firm kiss over his lips. Every muscle in my body is still trembling with elation over what will inevitably go down as the Noster miracle. “And I’m already missing you like crazy.” My hand slips up his shirt, gliding over a sheer wall of muscle. Gage Oliver has a body hewn straight from the throne of the Lord.

  “All right.” He plucks my hand out and kisses the tip of my finger. “I’ll make sure you don’t miss a thing once you get back.” He leans in and whispers, “Every last part of me will be up and waiting.”

  I bite down on my lip, just stealing a moment to gaze at this beautiful man. “I love you, Gage Oliver. You own me.”

  “I love you, too, Skyla.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips before pulling away. The weight of those gorgeous eyes presses right through to my soul. “You own me. And please don’t forget that. I need you to let those words sink into your bones. Everything I do is for us, Skyla.” There’s an undercurrent to his words, stronger than the pull of the ocean, stronger than death. “It’s because I cannot live without you.”

  “I know.” I tighten my grip around his waist. “And that’s what we’re fighting for—our right to be together. Demetri will marry us—God will honor our union once again. We are right, Gage. We are.”

  He winces as he backs away. “Hurry home.”

  “I will!” I shout over to him as my feet stumble backward toward the woods.

  Noster has the key to the Factions’ salvation, and I have Gage Oliver. Life has righted itself—and once again my heart and my people are the victors. An angry wave slaps upon the shoreline, stealing my peace right along with my attention, and I jump to get out of the way before the water rushes to my feet.

  An arm pulls me over hard from behind and lands us in the woods with a simple airborne maneuver. I spin to find myself locked in a familiar set of arms.

  “Logan.” I laugh, my eyes wildly bouncing over his features. Logan is a god who still very much has the power to set my heart vibrating like a speaker in a trashy nightclub.

  But he’s not laughing along with me. His gaze bears over me hard, insinuating. Instead, he lands his lips carefully over mine, and a spark the size of Manhattan ignites between us, a burst so explosive it holds the promise to knock out power to the entire island.

  He takes a few steps back, those citrine eyes glowing in the dark, speaking to me. They say choose me. You are making a grave mistake.

  “You’re in danger, Skyla,” he whispers as the darkness begins to swallow him in pieces. “We all are. Deep down, you know what you have to do. Don’t fight it. Do not fight us.”

  And with that, there is a void where Logan Oliver once stood. It’s clear it wasn’t the Logan from this time or space. Logan traveled here from the future much like I did. And that too steals my peace.

  The fog bleeds into the woods as the moon shines its glorious rays over it, creating a long blue tongue that weaves through the forest like an ethereal snake. A familiar voice cries out in the distance, recognizably mine. I’m either killing Pierce or readying to do so. I’m sure Nevermore has already stationed himself in a prime position. Ezrina will give me hell, and then my mother will show up and save the proverbial day—only, in reality, I’m quickly lured to a meet and greet that good old Demeet has set up, and Chloe will inevitably skewer both Logan and me with a spirit sword before sending us off to the Tunnels to have a grand old time. Wow. It seems like only yesterday, and yet at the same time it feels like a million years ago. So much has happened since this night—so much is about to happen.

  I tug on a low hanging branch of an evergreen as I walk by, watching as it does a little shimmy when I spring it free. It feels as if an old friend is waving, erratic and happy to see me. I’m not sure why old Paragon brings me so much joy. There wasn’t necessarily so much joy here to begin with. But there is something to be said for delving into the past. No matter how hard the ugly facts might be, our minds sift out the dross and hold to light the beautiful memories like sea glass. Logan and Gage, my budding friendship with Brielle—being on the cheer squad. Yes, it was hell, but it was a fun aerobic outlet. Marshall and those demented kisses, which still have the power to curl my toes. Seeing my father intermittently, even though he’s been dead for years. My God, how powerfully I miss him. Ezrina was still one of my biggest fears, right up there with clowns, Fems, and all around losing my sanity. Life has been a ride, that’s for sure.

  A pale illumination sprays from the left, and I follow that unearthly glow until I come upon the woman I’ve been searching for, my mother. Her back is turned toward me, she’s slightly bent, her speech frenetic but not entirely clear. There’s a small being in her presence, and I gasp without meaning to as I leap in their direction, hoping to find the demon girl I’ve been after for the better part of a year, but my mother jerks to attention and a smoldering flame quickly evaporates where the little celestial gnat once stood. I can’t help but shoot an accusing look to my mother.

  “Sent her back to hell, did you?”

  “You”—she hisses as her face jumps rabidly toward my own—“you have no idea what you’ve done tonight.”

  My mouth opens and closes for a moment. I’m pretty sure my all-knowing, all-seeing mother realizes which version of me she’s telling off, but in the event of a cerebral malfunction I’ll make it clear.

  “I’m light driving. It’s me, Skyla from the prospective future? I just brought Miller back to show off a little angelic prowess and maybe kill a Bishop along the way.” I scowl at her, and her head ticks back an inch. “Speaking of offing Chloe—could you not grant me one freaking earthly pleasure? She didn’t even blackout, for goodness’ sake!” My voice roars around us like a threat, and that only seems to curve my mother’s lips. But make no mistake about it. She’s not happy in the traditional sense. Nope. Not my mother. She’s probably readying the ground to open up and swallow me, the intricate network of evergreen roots ready to wrap around my body, tight like cables, and strangle me anaconda style.

  “I know who you are and where you’ve come from.” She takes a towering step forward, and I can’t help but take a stumbling step back. “I know who you tried to kill, who you wish you could capture, and who you questioned for your husband’s beheading.” She barks a quick laugh in my face. “Go back to that night, Skyla. It’s the only night you should revel in. And you will quickly learn why.” Her hand connects to my cheek so quickly, my entire being jolts to attention.

  “Did you just slap me?” My palm cradles the sting, and my head is slow to right itself from its twisted position. No sooner do I meet up with her eyes than I see a fire burning bright within her, angry and damning—all of her wrath pointed at me.

  “It’s not a math problem, Skyla. You either felt it or you’ll need another. Which is it?”

  It takes all of my resolve to straighten as my heart and mind race to discern this overtly irate version of my mother.

  Then it hits me. “You’re pissed because I told Gage, aren’t you?”

  Her chest bucks, her volcanic gaze still scalding my skin. “You told Gage, Skyla. Do you hear your own voice? Where is your reason? What do you expect him to do with such information?”

  “Wesley would have found out about it even—”

  “Wesley is no longer in charge!” Her words blow over me with the heat of a nuclear blast. My mind melts under the duress of her blistering fury. “You are bedding the devil, Skyla. He is in you. And you were right when you suggested he owns you. My God, how he owns you. It’s an embarrassment. You are an embarrassment. You are a mockery, a paper tig
ress being set on fire by her uncontrollable lusts. Logan is the victor in both form and feature. If it were not so, I would have made other arrangements. But you are blinded by that spirit sword Gage wields between his legs. The one with which he slays both you and your people, night after night.”

  “Mother.” My voice comes out in less than a whisper. I’m stunned by both her physical and verbal outburst. It’s not like her. It’s as if she’s coming unglued and trying to pin it all on me. “Just trust that I’m determined to do what’s right for my people. I’ll try to make sure Ezrina gets the knowledge she needs tonight—before I bed the enemy.” I can’t help but raise my voice when I add that last little tidbit. “Speaking of which, that stone. It entitled him to seven more years. I want them—all seven. I want you to bless my upcoming marriage to Gage.” I wince as I inspect her in this dim periwinkle light. “Wait a minute. You knew Gage was going to get his head chopped off, didn’t you? Why did you give me that stone? Did I misread it?” The math spins in my head for a moment, from the time I acquired the soap-sized granite until the day he was killed. “It was well after seven months.” I shake my head at her. “You were trying to gift him more years, but why?” My heart thumps wild as I catch that tiny dimple in her cheek dig in. Same one I have that goes off when I’m feeling a bit deceptive. I’ll be damned. Or in this case, blessed. “What are you up to? Never mind. Don’t answer it. Give him his due and marry the two of us on his birthday. I want it all back with him, my marriage, our life. Put us back together the way we were. I beg of you.”

  “Seven years, Skyla.” She blows out a plume of blue fog with her next breath, and the forest only seems to darken, growing glacial as each passing second goes by. In the distance I can hear myself grunting, the unmistakable sound of my body straining as I beat the life out of Pierce Kragger. I never meant to kill him. It was merely a happy accident. And, as it stands now, he’s a pretty great guy in the great beyond. You know what they say, asshole on Earth, angel in heaven. I guess it proves true for some people.