Toxic Part Two (Celestra Series Book 7.5)

by Addison Moore

  I glance back at a familiar looking boy in the distance, a bow swinging in his hand.

  Ellis? I squint into him. His jowls are set deeper, his body smaller in stature, and an unnatural smile hedges on my lips. That’s the boy who took region six for the Counts—the one Gage mistook for Ellis in the middle of a downpour and I was slow to believe him. Just the sight of him makes me want to run to Gage and apologize all over.

  The boy looks right at me, lifts his crossbow and fires.

  A biting pain gaffs my left shoulder just above my wing. I let out a cry and hold onto Logan to keep from falling.

  “Shit,” Logan seethes. He gives a gentle tug at the newly embedded arrow and a hot bite of adrenaline explodes through me.

  “Take a deep breath.” Logan latches on and yanks it out rather unceremoniously.

  I let out a shrill cry that cuts through the war machine percolating around us. It drills into the sky and straight back to Marshall’s estate where my mother is watching safely from Paragon—in her party dress made of stars, with my father tucked neat by her side.

  Logan pulls me in and presses a burning kiss against my lips that not only manages to silence me, it takes away the pain—the war, thoughts of my destiny with all its malignant intent.

  The rain starts in and saturates us with my mother’s blessing. She desires Logan for me. He’s her pick in the race for my heart. I guess in some ways, Logan has already won.

  A wild cry comes from the battlefield inspiring the two of us to exchange a knowing glance.

  Logan pulls back and washes over me with all of his hell bent love. “Let’s do this.”

  I take him in, so fierce and noble.

  “Let’s do this.” I knock the butt of my rifle into his, and we make a run for the enemy.

  We storm the field in an effort to secure a win for Celestra—save Gage in the process as tears rain down from heaven. Our clothes cling to our skin. My wet hair dances over my back, thick as snakes. The sky summersaults into itself as it bears down and expels a never-ending stream of citrine aggression.

  We hit the wooded area just past where the kitchen would be. I recognize this as the place where the Mustang ran over the two of them.

  On the mountain in the distance, I can make out foot soldiers heading up in rows of ten and twenty, angels interspersed between them.

  “I thought the angels couldn’t fight this battle,” I say as we take a moment to catch our breath.

  “They can’t.” His face pinches with pain. “They’re here for the dead, Skyla. They’re taking them home.”

  So many bodies—so many precious beings lying strewn on the ground like refuse. I guess people do die in this war. I held out Ezrina like some life-gifting force and here were the messengers of God collecting souls from the deceased by the droves.

  The rain lets up as I scan the field for Gage. He needed me and I failed him. I should’ve blasted through the crowd to reach him. He would die before he left me to fend for myself and now perhaps I played a role in his death by not returning the favor.

  Chloe runs from a quickly dispersing mob. She holds a blade dipped in blood—her face white with shock.

  I press my way over as the Counts scatter like rats, and spot Gage lying on the ground with his face to the blackened sky. His eyes blink out of rhythm, disoriented from the beating—all alone, lying in a pool of growing crimson.

  “Shit.” I don’t consult with Logan or strategize. I simply run into the enemy’s hands—thick in their mist and open fire on every mud-slicked coward who stands in my way.

  Bodies fall like flies. Logan joins in on the assault.

  I skid on my knees—slide into Gage as if there was a victory involved.

  Maroon liquid streams from a line erupting from his neck. His body shakes. It trembles out of control as he tries to say something.

  Dear God, this was Chloe’s calling card, a near decapitation that she didn’t have the heart to carry out.

  “Gage.” I press my finger to my lips then to his mouth.

  Skyla, his eyes roll back into his skull—his mind unable to compose a thought.

  God almighty. I would bargain the world away to keep Gage alive, healthy, and breathing right beside me forever.

  “We need to get the hell out of this region,” Logan roars trying to lift me. “It’s the only way to save him.”

  “Marshall!” I scream.

  Marshall swoops to my side and observes his injuries. His forehead wrinkles with concern. “You’ve five minutes until he bleeds out. Make use of your time.”

  “I’m not going to use the disc,” I pant. I’m aborting the mission. There’s no way I’m opening another landmine and losing Gage because of it. “I want to forfeit.” It comes from me sharp like a command. I’d lose the entire war just to have Gage in one piece.

  “Look around you, Skyla.” Marshall nods just beyond my expansive wingspan. “Who would you wager victory lies with?”

  I glance up and catch Ezrina and Nev exploding like ninjas over the cloud of blue that was unlucky enough to settle in their midst. The Counts fall like flies, evaporating before their bodies ever hit the ground.

  “The final region is Ahava.” Marshall presses his gaze into me as if I should know what this means. “Only Celestra and Countenance bear the price of admission. Levatio returns.”

  “He returns now?” I ask hopeful. “He can get help? He doesn’t have to wait?”

  Marshall nods. “Immediately.”

  I latch onto Marshall’s legs and shake him. “You better make sure he gets the help he needs or, so help me God, I will make your existence miserable.”

  I dive down over Gage with kiss that says you’re going to make it.

  I’d make love to him right here, bathing in his blood if I knew it would heal him, guarantee his survival.

  “Let’s move to the porthole so we can get him home.” Logan tries to pull me up but I resist.

  “Guard him,” I instruct Marshall.

  A fresh swell of bodies fill the interim—unequivocally blue, unashamed, as they brandish their weapons. They light up with roars and cackles. The scent from the slaughter is their secret perfume. Men fall in the ruins behind me. A bullet flies through my right wing, then another and another until light and rain puncture through the disorganized pinpoints.

  Logan shouts for me to get up and run, but I ignore his plea and hover over Gage. I flap my wings with an enormous effort and create a glorious blaze of illumination so infinitely blinding that it wouldn’t surprise me if the enemy were firing on itself in the confusion.

  An iridescent warble interrupts the atmosphere across the way.

  And there it is.

  My entire body seizes.

  The shimmering porthole to Ahava lures me over. The final stretch of my destiny calls me by my unspoken name. I pluck the defunct disc from the inside of my dress and the tiny tendrils give way to a sigh.

  I drop to my knees one last time and kiss my sweet forever goodbye.

  “This is for you, Gage,” I whisper.

  Logan pulls me up and we run with fire in our bellies toward our final destination. This is for Gage. He squeezes my hand. It’s his ticket home. His lateral dimple inverts as he nods over to the arid space just out of reach. Are you ready to take down the Counts?

  I heave the disc to the ground so hard it embeds itself into the soil.

  “Every last one.”

  Chapter 112

  Right Here, Right Now

  Ahava. My entire soul exhales with relief at the sight of its unsurpassed beauty.

  A lavender glow, a subtle illumination of light surrounds me as the scenery fills in like a mural under the supervision of a skilled artist. The forest glitters in the distance, secluded with a fine layer of mist. The lake is as cool and blue as Gage and his captivating eyes—the falls are blocked off in tiers as they whisper out their mysterious hushed roars.

  “Son of a bitch.” Chloe appears with a childlike innocence. She takes
in the sight with laughter caught in her throat. “I’ve been here before.”

  I glance around and Logan is gone, yet deep down inside, this doesn’t worry me. My wings have been restored, clean and light, not the burden they were in the last region. Here, they flow with an energy all their own, nothing more than a beautiful gift from my mother.

  I scour the landscape for signs of Logan. My mouth opens to call to him, my jubilance every bit alive as Chloe’s.

  A yellow mane—a large menacing face emerges from over the hillside and pounces in this direction. It has the body of a lion, the face of mutated man—a wild shag of hair outlines the creature in a disorganized halo. It ambushes us with a vengeance and Chloe wastes no time pushing me in its path.

  I land on my back, crushing the cartilage that springs from my shoulder blades.

  Logan leaps on the creature from out of nowhere and claws open its side. He flips it onto its back and it pauses from the struggle in that vulnerable state.

  “Run,” he shouts.

  I jump to my feet and buck as my wings burst out with a dull explosion.

  The ground sways as I reach in the shrubbery for a stick to beat him off with.

  “Damn it.” Logan grunts as he wrestles the creature. “Forget about me—get to the sword.” The beast mounts over him with the girth of a minivan and gives a thunderous growl. “Do it for us, Skyla.”

  The arrogant lion picks Logan up with its mouth and jostles him from side to side. The air whips and whistles as Logan’s body snaps and bends in unnatural positions.

  There is no us if Logan is dead. I need Logan alive and with me for the long haul.

  I charge forward and latch onto its thrusting head. I dig my hands into its eyes, culling them out like I did to Pierce, like I’ve fantasized a million times doing to Chloe. It tries to shake me away, clawing at the back of my skull as I pluck them out one by one, enraging the beast into a sizzling tirade. It lets out a wild scream as if it were on fire, jumping spastic into the air. Its claws are embedded so deep inside Logan, it takes him along for the ride.

  “No.” I cry as Logan lands hard on his back.

  The creature twists off and scampers toward a crowd at the base of the hillside.

  “Are you OK?” I crawl over to him and place my cheek over his.

  Logan sits up with fresh blood rising from where he plucked out his wings.

  “I’m fine,” he rasps, as his right eye swells in a sea of purple. “Chloe’s on her way.” He winces at the sacred falls that glow an eerie scarlet.

  Logan rises and pulls me with him. He leads us through the woods near the periphery of the lake. It’s unnaturally quiet here, not a soul around, no one following from behind.

  “You think it’s over? Someone got the sword?” The words bump out of me as I try to keep up.

  “No. It waits for you.” He says it with such certainty that I believe him.

  We come upon the falls and I wash the blood off my hands, washing myself anew in the water from this heavenly reserve. It’s hard to believe this is the lake, the exact place Logan got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife. It’s stunningly beautiful but Logan outshines the landscape. Logan is the star casting his light over a black velvet night.

  I look up at him from under my lashes as we walk along. “I’m so humbled and proud of everything you’ve sacrificed for us, for Celestra.” It takes all of my strength not to latch onto him and weep.

  We pause just shy of the sacred fall that houses the sword of the Master and Logan gazes at me with a look of rapture. He brings my hand to his lips and seals a kiss over my flesh that says I love you all on its own.

  “I’m proud of you, too, Skyla.” A smile blooms on his lips and for a moment it’s just Logan and me as the world stands still. “It’s time,” he whispers.

  Logan caresses my cheek, soft as a midnight breeze and I dip a kiss into the warmth of his palm.

  This is the moment we’ve been waiting for, and now, it waits for us.

  ***

  Logan leads us behind a curtain of water that shimmers every color of the rainbow. Ahava bathes in its beauty. The fresh scent of lilacs fills the air, reminiscent of my mother. It spells out love even in this horrible den of division among Nephilim brothers and sisters.

  A cave-like structure opens up. The walls glow a strange pulsating crimson from deep within like a heartbeat.

  We find Ellis and Chloe arguing at the entrance of the hollowed out earth. She grabs his elbow and throws him off balance while screaming in his face.

  Logan speeds us over.

  “What the hell?” I yank Ellis back to protect him from her insanity.

  “You are blowing this.” She spits in his face, spraying me down in the process with her noxious brand of hatred.

  “Blowing what?” I direct the question toward Ellis because I know damn well Chloe isn’t going to answer.

  He wipes his face with his T-shirt and blinks into me as if seeing me for the very first time. “I can get the sword.” He touches his hand to my wings and shudders. “It’s mine if I want it. Three other guys already chickened out.”

  “Chickened out?” I narrow my eyes into Chloe—I smell her mind games at work, nothing but mental strychnine at its finest. I’m not certain what makes Ellis so positive he can get the sword, when I’m pretty damn sure it waits for me.

  “That’s right—all you need is this.” Ellis produces a shield from off the ground. It’s oval and as tall as Ellis himself. An emblem is carved into the muted silver, a dark huntsman with a sword in one hand. He rides a steely horse and its eyes shine like fire, something unintelligible lies inscribed over the image like a wreath.

  Then I see it. In the distance behind Ellis, the cave opens to the sky and a tornado of fire twirls infinitely up in an inferno. The flames lick the air with their arrogant taunts, hungry for flesh to devour.

  “Give it to Skyla.” Logan steadies his voice as if he were talking Ellis off a ledge.

  “It’s mine.” Chloe doesn’t hesitate snatching it for herself and oddly Ellis doesn’t put up a fight.

  The falls flush out in a fury before returning to their demure hush. My mother isn’t amused by Chloe’s call to action—either that or it’s my inattention to procure the glorified garbage can lid for myself that has her celestial tutu in a twist.

  “What’s going on?” I direct it toward Ellis. “Why do I need the shield and what the hell are you doing with Chloe?”

  “For the fire.” Ellis dips into me as if I should have known. I glance past his shoulder at the orange glow in the heart of the cave. It was the fire that gave it a crimson shimmer all along. “You need to get through it to get the sword.” He huffs, miffed at my lack of understanding. “I thought about doing it.” Ellis loses his gaze in the horizon. “I thought maybe once and for all I could get on my dad’s good side and stop being such a fuck up.”

  “But you didn’t because you know this isn’t about you.” Logan’s chest heaves discreetly. He’s ready to pounce on either one of them if they try to dart for the flames. “You care about, Celestra, about Skyla. You want to do what’s right.”

  “You’re not a fuck up, Ellis,” I say, taking him in like this, vulnerable and somber. “You’re a decent person. You know the difference between right and wrong, and you would never want people trapped in those tunnels.”

  “It’s not right,” he’s says, snapping his head at attention. “But I can’t change any of it.”

  “I will.” It speeds out of me with an authority I’ve yet to determine.

  “Dream your schoolgirl dreams,” Chloe sings. She pulls a long silver sword from the back of the shield and I recognize it as a twin to the one she speared Logan and me with a few months back. “It’s come full circle, hasn’t it?” The blade ignites a dangerous shade of cobalt. “Me with the sword, you and Logan with your jaws on the floor because yet again you’re so perfectly screwed.”

  Logan takes up my hand, low by our thighs.

/>   I’m going after it, Skyla.

  No. She’ll hack your head off before you get within two feet.

  If anything happens, know that I love you. He gives a mournful smile. Tell Gage I’m sorry about everything I ever said—that I care about him, too.

  “Shut up.” I grit it through my teeth as a veil of tears blurs my vision.

  “I’ll do just that.” Chloe nods into the words that she knows damn well were meant for Logan. She turns her face to the fire and begins a slow walk toward her warped sense of destiny.

  I’ll go in the fire and get the sword. If I don’t make it, I don’t want you to be heartbroken, Logan says with a dull ache. What we had was good. I’ll see you again one day. I promise.

  I take up both his hands and pull him in. His light hair glints with flecks of gold. Each shaft glows alive with color just like my mother’s.

  “Stop it,” I hiss just this side of a whisper. The fire snaps with intensity and sets my teeth on edge. “You’re going to be OK. We don’t have to go after the sword. We’ll find another way to help our people.”

  I shake my head at the flames, disbelieving.

  A damn fire. A damn fucking fire holds the sword hostage and I’m supposed to believe a shield is going to rectify the flames.

  “And when the Fems and Counts take over?” Logan looks disappointed in my lack of enthusiasm at the thought of him jumping in a furnace to save the entire human race. “What do we do then? Sit back and watch the death toll climb? Watch our loved ones die because my life was so important?”

  “It is important,” I snap. “It’s important to me because I love you.” The words pull out of my throat like a jagged blade.

  “I love you, too, Skyla.” The smile melts from his lips.

  “Then don’t do this.” I watch Chloe with my peripheral vision as she hedges ever so close to the flames. “I can’t live without you, Logan. Going into the past to say hello isn’t nearly enough to take away the sting. Trust me, I know this because of my father. I won’t live without you. I won’t do it.” I bullet out the words like a threat I intend on keeping.