I’m assuming that’s where Demetri lured Gage to meet up with his demonic Fem posse, I say as I glance back to Marshall, and he gives a brief nod. Are they crowning him king over all of darkness? I’m only half-kidding. That would explain the unusually high Fem to Nephilim ratio tonight. It seems my favorite Sector is always outnumbered. I turn back and give a little wink. Even though I’m not speaking directly to him, I know he’s prying freely into my mind. Marshall would pry freely into any orifice I would let him.
Ms. Messenger, he purrs. How well you know me, he flatlines, but all sarcasm aside, we both know it’s true. They aren’t producing a ring of gold to place on his newly minted head, my love. That ceremony will take place much later. The king must first complete a task that benefits his people—the Barricade and Fems included. Only then will he be deemed worthy. You might say your nefarious father-in-law has one more celestial hoop to jump through. No. Tonight, they aren’t parading around the father of your children. Tonight, they prep him for battle. This is a union blessing. He now has the right to go forth and claim victory for his people by whatever means necessary. This isn’t an act of placation. This is an act of war.
My blood runs cold. A gripping chill arrests me, and my bones feel as though they’ve solidified to ice. Marshall wraps his coat around me, warming me with his body, but I don’t stop shivering. I can’t.
Gage missed a New Year’s kiss with his wife to attend this evil meet and greet. He’s still very much there, listening, for all I know chanting along with the best of them. The illusion that everything would be the same has just torn in two like the holy veil, from top to bottom via supernatural hands. A mean shiver runs through me, and it’s uncontrollable, inconsolable even with the heat between us.
An act of war. Can I refuse it? My heart pumps violently in my chest like gunshots.
Only if you’re determined to lose.
The shadows break, drift apart, disappear altogether, and before we know it, Demetri and Gage are bound in this direction as if they could sense our presence all along. I’m sure they could.
Demetri sheds his bullshit smile as he strides this way, and Gage offers the same valiant smile as if he has the right.
“I’m so sorry.” He steals me from Marshall’s warmth and replaces it with his own, but the mist wraps itself over my back and lets me know I’m unshielded with Gage. Marshall had me wrapped from behind, fully encompassed in his safe arms, and Gage can only offer half the protection now. An allegory for our new life, I suppose.
“Don’t apologize.” I land a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away. “Did you take care of what you needed?” I study his face for clues of something more than he might be willing to give me, but he looks so strikingly normal, no deception, all business, and that frightens me a bit. The old Gage would have at least felt a hint of remorse.
“Yup. All done.” He gives my side a playful squeeze. “You ready to hit it?”
I glance back to where Demetri and Marshall seem to be having a heated conversation—with Marshall bringing all the heat, and the thought makes my stomach turn. I don’t like seeing Marshall spin out of control. He’s usually far more even-keeled than he’s displayed all night. It takes something really big to push him to the brink—something like war. He turns slightly and looks to me. Those boiling eyes of his pierce right through me, and I can feel the fire ripping from him straight to my heart. Marshall is locked in a fury, his jaw set tight, his beautiful features rearranged to accommodate his anger. He leans my way a moment as if he were about to charge in my direction then pivots and stalks off. Demetri gives a wave with his gloves and disappears right in his tracks. Nice. Nothing like the present to turn up the supernatural charm. It’s not like the island is crawling with feds.
“I’m ready to hit it.” I wrinkle my nose at my husband. “Logan had a mishap with the roof.” A part of me demands to vomit up the truth, but why smear the new year with the jealousy of yesteryear? Logan may have had the surprise this evening that Em suggested he would, but I’m not too surprised by the fact my anger boiled over when I spotted him with Lex. There are some things I don’t think I’ll ever get used to. “I don’t want to talk about it. Take me home, Gage.”
And he does just that.
Gage and I made sure to ring in the new year just the way we like, intimately with each other—well, almost. We would have succeeded in our efforts if it wasn’t for Nathan whining and crying all night. Poor baby. By six in the morning he was all out screaming his head off. And, of course, Barron wanted in on the action, but I was able to subdue him easily enough with a bottle. Gage tried his hardest to soothe poor Nathan, but not even Gage’s infamous belly kisses could stop Nathan from screaming his lungs out. It certainly didn’t help when Mia stomped over our adjoining wall and shouted for us to keep it the hell down. When I screamed back that I couldn’t calm him, she suggested I invest in a baby muzzle. Mia is going to make such a great mother someday. But first, apparently, she’s going to make a stellar wife—to some high school kid no less. Hey. She really is taking after me.
At about ten o’clock in the morning, Gage and I stagger downstairs with two cranky boys. I’ve mercifully handed Barron to Gage while Nathan progressively attempts to gift me a black eye with his wild fists. He’s still grunting and screaming as if we were systematically plucking off his toes all night. But thankfully, he doesn’t have a fever. Whatever is making him unhappy is a complete mystery to me and one I don’t care for. If my babies aren’t happy, I’m certainly not happy.
We enter the family room where Bree and Drake sit on the couch, their zombie-like stares pinned to a video game where a couple of commandos race through an Amazon rainforest with submachine guns.
Beau Geste hops onto Drake’s lap with a truck in hand, and Drake bounces him right back off. “Shit, kid. Can’t you see I’m doing something?”
I make a face at Gage. Gage Oliver would never say something abhorrent to his own child.
“Shit, kid,” Gage parrots and holds Barron out a good foot. “I think he just nuked his diaper and the front of my shirt in the process.”
“Oh no!” I try my hardest to trade boys, but Gage swoops Barron back down the hall.
“Nope, I got this. Just find a way to make Nathan happy.” He takes off, and I look to my left where Mom and Tad careen out of the kitchen.
Tad’s neck brace is firmly in place. He’s been sleeping with it ever since Christmas when Wes tried to knock him into tomorrow. “What’s the racket all about?” he barks over Nathan’s piercing cries.
“I don’t know,” I whine to my mother. “I’ve done everything possible, and I can’t get him to stop.”
She flicks her fingers my way, frowning at me as if I should have done so hours ago, and she’s damn right about that one. A part of me was terrified to go into her room and find Demetri snuggled between the two of them. Thank God that nightmare has yet to transpire.
Mom snatches poor Nathan from me and jiggles him like a piggy bank. “My God, Skyla, he’s tooting away like a popcorn maker. What in heavens name did you feed this poor child last night?”
“I didn’t feed him anything. Melissa did.”
Both Mom and I freeze solid as we lock eyes. What the hell was I thinking entrusting my most prized Oliver possessions to a teenager with an ax to grind against my sister? She was probably spoon-feeding the kids a tub of Ben and Jerry’s right along with herself as she tried to drown her sorrows in dairy-laden carbs. My God, Melissa’s heart must be ravaged over the fact Mia and Gabe are engaged. Gabriel Armstead has been Melissa’s boyfriend just as much as he’s been Mia’s.
My sisters head into the family room on cue as my mother shoots me a determined look.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this.” Mom speeds over and miraculously Nathan’s cries only seem to rise in decibel level. At this rate, he’ll shatter windows and fracture drywall before afternoon.
“Listen up”—Tad calls from the hallway, and I glance over to fi
nd an overgrown rat wearing a trench coat with him—“from here on out, my good friend, Demeet, will be staying with us for an undisclosed amount of time.”
Looks like my nightmare is transpiring after all. I let out a sigh, and suddenly Nathan’s nonstop ear-splitting cries feel like a projection of my own primal urges. And really? Demeet? Isn’t that getting a little old, Tad? I shake my head at my pitiful stepfather. He has no idea he’s just invited a cobra into our midst.
“Yo, Demeet”—Drake shouts while keeping his full attention on the screen in front of him, his thumbs twitching away over his controller—“why don’t you fetch me a cold one from the fridge?”
My mouth falls open, and I can’t help but silently cheer Drake on. Sure, he’ll be dead by morning, but his carefree defiance in the face of evil just goes to prove not all superheroes wear capes.
Demetri strides over with an easy smile. “Skyla.” He slithers on by with a tip of his head before heading to the fridge and pulling out a soda and hand delivering it to my soon-to-be dearly departed stepbrother.
Demetri straightens as he glances around. “Would anybody else like something?”
“Yes.” I can’t help but shake my head at him incredulously. “You gone.”
“Skyla Laurel!” Mom snaps as she bounces over with Nathan. For years my mother would invoke my middle name once I had pissed her off good, but she would always tag it with my last name. It sounds weird, naked even without a Messenger or an Oliver tagged to the end of the moniker-based reprimand. “Demetri is a guest.” She clears her throat as her voice does its best to rise above Nathan’s cries. “And we will treat him as such. He’ll be in my room. Tad will sleep on the living room sofa, and I will take the twin in Beau and Misty’s bedroom.” Beau and Misty have taken over Drake’s old bedroom, caskets and all. They don’t sleep in those casketnettes anymore that Bree and Drake helped develop. They outgrew them eons ago, but rumors are swirling that Bree was looking into getting a full size for Beau. Mom convinced her there wouldn’t be enough room for him to get a good night’s sleep. Beau turns into a virtual donkey once he conks out. But I’m betting it won’t be long before Bree has some new morbid contraption set up for her offspring to catch some zzz’s in. She’s forever the entrepreneur—although a rather felonious one. “Be nice,” Mom quips from the side of her lip like a ventriloquist.
“I am nice.” I stride between her and Demeet as he takes Nathan from my mother. If he can get Nathan to stop crying, I might hail him as a hero for about five full minutes.
Demetri gropes poor Nathan’s stomach, his eyes looking to the ceiling as if he were getting a silent read on his vitals. “He’s restricted. A bottle of prune juice will clear the pipes nicely.”
Mom tosses her hands in the air. “Melissa confessed to feeding him oatmeal all night—enough for six children no less.”
“He likes to eat!” Melissa snipes as she enters our midst. Her hair is disheveled, her face a pasty color, and she has large dark rings under her eyes.
“It’s not a big deal,” I say, doing my best to sand the rough edges off the attitude that Demetri seems to inspire. Mom gets straight to the prune juice, and I step in close to my sister. “I’m really sorry about that whole Gabe thing.” I shrug as she closes her eyes a moment too long.
“It’s a drag. But I guess in the end that’s what he wanted.”
What’s this? Melissa doesn’t admit defeat. Why do I get the feeling Mia had better watch her back?
She looks to Demetri. “Dominique says she has an order to put in. I’m heading out there this afternoon if you want me to deliver it to her.”
“An order?” I balk as I look to Demetri. “You pedaling pizzas now, too? I’ll take mine with extra cheese, please.” I couldn’t help it. After that soda run he did for Drake, he practically had it coming.
Melissa gives an exasperated sigh my way. “It’s for the apothecary. It’s herbs and spices you can’t find on Paragon. You can’t find anywhere really. I’m working there now part-time. Mrs. Winters has really taken me under her wing.”
I suck in a quick breath. “Oh, wow.” I harden my gaze over the wicked warlock in my midst. “I’m betting you have to travel through time, far and wide, to get them. Ha! Dominique is practically a witch.” I turn to my sister. “You can’t work for her. She’ll accidentally turn you into a toad or something.”
“Oh, Skyla.” Melissa sets her feet in that defiant stance that lets me know she’s still rife with all the attitude a sixteen-year-old can afford. “She’s a modern-day shaman. She’s working on all kinds of cool elixirs.” Her eyes flit to Mia for a second. “She’s even working on aphrodisiacs guaranteed to make people fall instantly in love.”
“Sounds like an instant fairy tale.” I’ll bet Dominique is using Melissa somehow, and she’s found a way to keep my sister in her clutches forever—promising her the heart of Gabriel Armistead. And I bet she’ll deliver, too—by way of a jar. “You’d better stay away, Melissa. I wouldn’t put it past her to poison the entire island and somehow pin the blame on you. You are a Landon.” I glance to my mother. “And it’s a well-known fact Dominique is in direct competition with our mother.” My stomach grinds as I look back to Demetri. “And it’s so not worth the effort.”
The room quiets down as Nathan finally takes a bottle, and my entire body breathes a sigh of relief. I was this close to pulling out a boob and shoving it into his face. Come to find out, there is no better way to calm a cranky Oliver male—Gage included. It’s almost as if my boobs had superpowers of their own. Like I said, not all superheroes wear capes—or bras on Saturday.
Gage comes back down, and Demetri is drawn to him like a decrepit old moth to a wild sexy blaze. I can’t help the sexually charged analogies. Gage and I started pretty hot and heavy last night and were essentially left hanging. And believe you me, what’s brewing inside of my body can in no way be quelled by some bathroom quickie. Although I do love leaning against the sink—watching Gage’s heavy lids as he takes me from behind.
Gage looks over at me. “I’m glad Nathan’s better.” He nods to Barron. “I think I’m going to take the little dude back up and crash.” And both he and Barron disappear once again. Can’t say I blame them.
Mia and Melissa get into a heated discussion about wedding dates and menus at the dining room table, and suddenly they’re surrounded by legal pads and a mug full of pens. Is Melissa really going to foster Mia’s wedding day delusions? I smell a rat with an entire apothecary at her fingertips.
Mom comes up and hands me Nathan who hungrily sucks down what’s left of the murky brown fluid in his bottle. His skin is hot and sweaty to the touch, and his eyes are glossed over. Poor baby is out of his mind with fatigue.
“I can’t thank you enough,” I say while pressing a kiss to my sweet angel’s head.
“Don’t thank me.” Mom glides an arm around Demetri’s waist and pulls him close. “Thank this fabulous man.”
“That’s right!” Tad joins in on the love-fest by way of wrapping his arm around the devil, too. “And something tells me thank you are words we’ll be speaking on a regular basis to this guy right here.”
“I can think of a few others.”
Tad is quick to wave me off. “Come on, Lizbeth. Let’s get that luggage out of his car. I’ve got to leave for work in fifteen minutes. Boss put me on for double shifts all week.”
I peg my mother with all of my disappointment before the three of them go off on their merry way. I bet Tad Landon was put on for double shifts. Demetri is erasing him from our lives one moment at a time. He’s such a cagey bastard. I can’t believe my mother—and Tad are falling right into his claw-riddled hands.
Emily strides by, and I follow her into the kitchen. Nathan has all but turned into dead weight in my arms.
“Hey, Em. How’s it going in the baby-making department?” It’s only been a little over a week, but she looked pretty determined. If anything, I can be a good friend to her—not that historically i
t’s ever panned out that way. We’ve maintained an acquaintance relationship well past the point we were no longer simply acquaintances.
“Not good.” She glances back and glowers at Ethan who has set up shop between Bree and Drake with his own controller in hand. “It’s like he’s shooting blanks or something. Next time I’m ovulating, I might find another Landon to sit on.”
A slight wave of nausea hits me. “Don’t give up. These things take time.”
“Yeah?” she grouses while pulling out a stockpot with marked aggression. “How long did it take you and Gage?”
I swallow hard. It was once. And to be honest, he wasn’t even aiming for the right bull’s-eye the first five minutes.
“Anyway”—I blink a smile—“anytime you want to vent, just know that I’m here for you.” I turn to leave, but my feet don’t move. God, I hate that I’m reduced to morbid curiosity whenever I’m around her now. “Any, you know, messages for me?” Sadly I’ve grown to trust Emily’s paper prognostication because she happens to be batting a thousand with them. I realize I turned her away last night, but after I all but destroyed the bowling alley, I’m sure it would have involved that catastrophic event.
“Just a small one. It’s not really moving me like the others.” She pulls a Post-it from the counter and produces a pen from the drawer. Her fingers fly over the small cheese-colored square before she hands it over to me.
A series of squiggles takes over the lower half, and there’s a vertical block falling into waves below. In the midst of the squiggles lie two hearts intertwined.
“Romantic in a I-think-your-TV-needs-to-be-serviced kind of way. What does it mean?”
“Hell if I know.” She gets to cooking, and I take off upstairs with Nathan. With every step I take I can hear his bottom misfiring, and it smells something awful.
“Oh God, I’m going to be sick,” I whisper as I scramble into my ever-shrinking bedroom. Gage is lying asleep on the bed, and Barron lies curled in his arms. If Nathan weren’t detonating like a nuclear facility in full meltdown, I’d snap a picture of the sight and social media the crap out of it. As it stands, I have other crap to deal with—of the literal variety.
Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After Book 5) Page 34