“I do.” It feels good to admit that, like the lancing of a wound that’s been festering ever since I stepped into that bowling alley for the very first time. I’m so thankful Gage isn’t here to witness this dark confession, that Logan isn’t here to gloat.
My mother shakes her head just barely. “They know, Skyla. Both Logan and Gage are well aware. You’re not hiding this from anyone.”
I blink back tears and clear my throat. “The war. I want to avoid it.” I glance to Marshall, and he offers a lackluster half-smile that suggests it’s too late. “What can I do to avoid it? I think the best strategy to keep the Sectors at their post, and me in mine, is to stay away from any impending battle.” Yes, Gage agreed to peace, but Chloe brought up a damn good point—and I hate the point as much as I hate Chloe.
“Gage can initiate the destruction of your people, Skyla.” My mother sighs as she says it. “The predominant extermination of one Faction is enough to warrant a war. That alone could usher you into battle. He will do this. He will succeed in all he sets out to do against you. But if you leave him tonight, this very hour we still have time to rectify all that will happen. You must listen to me. Trust me, Skyla. Your stubborn heart is putting us all in peril.” Her face flushes white, her eyes scream at me far louder than her words. There’s something disturbing about a being as powerful as my mother driving this point home in what feels like panic, the slight hint of groveling in her tone. “If you continue to disobey, I will further winnow your powers each time you bed the enemy. You have until your birthday to cease all fornicating with the devil lest you shall be human.”
Human? So there is a celestial flu that’s dulled my abilities—and now I know exactly who has given it to me.
“I have to go. The boys need me.” I spin to Marshall. “Take me back to Paragon. That is an order.”
Marshall gives a slight nod, and the ethereal courtroom in the nebulous sky evaporates like a very bad dream.
The front porch of the Landon house swims in a fog so dense you can hardly make out the structure before you. A pair of loving warm arms hold me from behind, and I spin to face Marshall like a ballerina in the middle of her favorite dance. Not only are those feel-good vibes going off like an entire succession of shooting stars, but he’s looking at me with those bedroom eyes, the wicked half-smile that suggests something nefarious is about to happen between the two of us, and it very much involves a bedroom, or not. Marshall is definitely the type who does not require a bed to be naughty.
“Stop looking at me that way.” My cheeks blush with the fire of the sun. “I’m an all-but-married woman. If no one else respects that fact, I’m begging you to.”
“As you wish, my queen. But know this, your mother speaks the truth. And buried in that thorny heart of yours, you know it well yourself. He is your enemy, Skyla. Nothing good can come of this.”
A huff of indignation plumes from my mouth like a ghost. “Nothing good but the unity of my family. Nothing good but the fact my boys get to live under one roof with their father. Nothing good but the fact that Gage and I get to live our love story. I guess those things aren’t important to other people, entities, or celestial celebrities like yourself.”
Marshall’s chest swells with pride at the stroke of his ego.
“Too bad for all of you because nobody decides who lies in my bed but me.”
“Then you choose Demetri. Demetri Edinger lies in your bed, Skyla. How does that make you feel? Are your insides squirming? Because they should be. Gage’s strapping exterior is only a front for what truly lies beneath. He is the exact representation of his father.”
“I would slap you, but I rather like all my limbs in place. In fact, why don’t you consider yourself slapped silly for even suggesting it?” I hiss as I break free from that vibratronic trance he’s pumping up the volume on. “And I’d slap you again right about now for gifting me those bedroom eyes and that come hither look, that greedy grin you like to drool all over me with.” I step in front of him, blocking his path to the stairs. “I’m taken, Marshall, and it’s not by you and it’s not by Logan Oliver. I belong to Gage—heart, soul, and body, and I will until my dying breath.”
He inches back with a dry laugh. “Then I’m afraid you won’t have long to wait.” He rocks on his heels to get a better look at me with the halo of the porch light bleeding over us. “I have watched you make mistakes. I have witnessed one malfeasance after the other in your life and stayed back, allowing you to grow as a person. Trials allow for long suffering—they build character, they build patience. I’m afraid your actions this time around will affect far more than that bubble you live in. The long-suffering will be spread around like a plague, and all fingers will point to you.” His words hack through the air like a machete, so sharp and dangerous I’m taken aback by this caustic version of him. “Get this straight, Ms. Messenger. You will not endanger me or your people any further. Get your head out of the quicksand of your heart and stand upright as the leader you were fashioned to be. Don’t you dare speak of striking me. Don’t you dare envision it for your pleasure. I’ve had about enough of this, enough of you. And I am not above severing the cord and taking you to court myself. I promise you the laughable sentence delivered to that clown you were so eager to nail will look like a luxury compared to what I have planned for you. Out of my way, and don’t you dare call for me unless you’ve come to your good senses.” He blows past me like a bullet train, and a horrific void is left in his wake, the fog slow to fill in the gap that his blessed being left before me.
Marshall is pissed. My mother is panicked. Logan has sided with Chloe Bishop to remove me from Gage Oliver’s side.
What in the hell is happening?
Inside, the scent of onions and spices takes over my senses, pulling me momentarily from the hostile takeover both Marshall and my mother were trying to pursue over my psyche. Honestly, I can’t take any more of it. I can’t stand another second of their mental throttling. I’d love to just get away from it all for a minute and cry in my proverbial beer. Hell, I’d love to make it a real one. No sooner do I step into the family room than I spot Chloe with Bree and Em next to an entire buffet spread of enchiladas, Spanish rice, and a heaping pile of pinto beans. Emily has been making extravagant buffet-style meals night after night now that there are so many of us holed up under one roof.
I scowl at Chloe, but just as I’m about to kick her out on her twisted little ear, Demetri and Mom waltz in, each holding a precious little babe in their arms. I swoop over and take Barron from Demetri. I still get a thin rail of fear that Demetri has chosen Barron as an heir to his nefarious fortune. As much as I wish I could forget what Gage said happened the night of the boys’ birth, I can’t. It was Barron who was the subject of the dark vision regarding taking a walk on the dark side if Gage didn’t do it himself. Gage Oliver is a hero for sparing his children from a fate worse than death. Why can’t anyone see that but me?
Chloe winks over at me, and my stomach turns. I hate that it’s Chloe Bishop alone who reveres my husband as much as I do.
Mom bounces Nathan in her arms as Tad waddles in last, laden down with diaper bags, grocery bags, and is that a cooler in his left hand?
“Oh, Skyla, we had the best time this afternoon!” Mom trills. “We took the boys over to the south side of the island to the tide pools and let them play with the baby crabs and tadpoles. They kept trying to eat the turban snails and mussels and, of course, Barron shoved a sea slug into his pocket!” She beams as if it were a great achievement. He was probably going to feed it to his grandfather later. I take a moment to glare at Demetri. I bet it was all his idea to get my boys nice and soggy.
“Wet feet lead to runny noses. We all know that.” I rub poor Barron’s head as he tries to dive-bomb back to Demetri.
“Ga Da!” he cries as his face grows red with the struggle.
“Ha!” Demetri caws. “He’s been saying Granddad all afternoon!”
“And he can say Tampon, too,” T
ad bleats with pride as he drops his luggage with an unceremonious thud. It’s a sad day when my stepfather accepts his less than hygienic moniker. “It’s my one day off from Raven’s Eye, and I had to spend it up to my knees in ice water. Way to go, Skyla.”
“What did I have to do with this?” I ask, only half-interested. Chloe, Bree, and Em have formed a football huddle and keep shooting indiscriminant looks my way every now and again. Chloe plotting on her own is bad enough, but joining forces with Bree has the ability to take her wickedness to a whole new level.
Mom clucks her tongue as if it were obvious. “You had the boys, Skyla. Every glorious thing that has to do with them is essentially your fault.” She bounces Nathan in her arms while giving Demetri a sly wink—as if she knows it’s all really his fault to begin with. That entire dizzying scenario that just played out before the Justice Alliance runs through my mind, and as much as I want to push it out, I can’t help but gloat a little.
“Speaking of children.” I needle Demetri with all of my dissatisfaction. “Celestial rumor has it, one of yours has been demoted to mere human status for the next six months. I’ll let you guess which one.”
His brows hike as if he were amused. “Live and let live, Skyla. Some people must learn a lesson. It’s not for me to judge or I would have been on the appointed panel.”
“You may not have been on the panel, but you weren’t exactly standing by his side offering up your support either. Believe you me, it didn’t go unnoticed. Playing favorites between my children is something I will never do.” Am I really defending the same guy I was hoping would lose the ability to function properly in bed just less than an hour ago? I guess I am. As much as I can’t stand the things Wesley does, there’s something in me that makes me vie for him when it comes to his wicked father.
“Skyla”—Mom rolls her eyes—“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but Demetri would never play favorites between his boys. He’s a wonderful father who cares very deeply about his children.”
Misty runs into the room with her hair in pigtails, looking ever so much like an Edinger offspring as she bolts straight into Demetri’s waiting arms.
“Daddy!” She slaps both his cheeks at the very same time, and he belts out a North Pole-worthy ho-ho-ho of delight.
I look to Tad and cock my head at him. “This doesn’t bother you in the least?” I’m afraid between the three of us it’s just Tad that’s not apprised of who Misty’s real father is. Mystery Landon’s paternity was solved ages ago by me and has never been a secret to my mother and Demetri—not that I’ve ever had the balls to broach the subject.
“Bother me?” Tad huffs out a caustic laugh. “Demeet’s as good as the man of the house. In my world, he who pays the bills rules the roost, and if a few of my offspring decide to look to him as a second father, who could blame ’em? He’s practically family. Aren’t you, Demeet?” He swats Demetri hard on the shoulder, and Demetri glares at Tad’s hand a moment as if he were willing it to fall off. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if a few more choice body parts spontaneously fell off of poor Tad as well.
“That’s right.” Demetri scales Tad with his cold, dead eyes. “We are indeed one big happy family.”
Misty wiggles in Demetri’s arms and offers Tad an aggressive kick to the stomach. “Tampon!” She hacks out a maniacal albeit darn cute laugh before kicking him in the stomach again. Misty is clearly unfazed by the fact Tad is her supposed father and not her Tampon. With all the other kids her age likening him to a feminine hygiene product, I doubt she will ever refer to him as anything endearing like Daddy.
Mom winces. “Misty’s going through a bit of a phase. Kicking is a term of endearment for her at the moment.”
Tad nods in agreement to the lunacy. “Well, I’ve got an early wake-up call at four a.m. There’s a big meeting at Raven’s Eye in the morning. Something about those prisoners trying to get loose. I bet we’ll be working on tighter restraints.”
Crap. The Spectators? Trying to get loose? I’m pretty sure that’s bound to happen sooner than later. And knowing those undead creatures, they’ll swim off to the four corners of the earth and begin a chomping spree that will make the Black Death look like a common cold.
“They must be contained,” I spew to Tad without putting too much thought behind it. “I mean, your family, your own children are at stake. The last thing we need is a global invasion of vicious prisoners.”
Tad balks as if it were the furthest thing from the truth. “Those meatheads? They’re about as bright as that ball of muscle you’ve leashed yourself to.”
My mouth falls open as I look to Demetri a moment. Is he really going to stand there and let Tad liken his golden child to a dumb-as-a-stick Spectator?
Demetri nods to Tad as if agreeing. God knows he’s not. He’s setting Tad up. I’ve smelled this coming for months. Send Tad to Raven’s Eye and hope natural selection does its job. It’s only a matter of time. I think both Demetri and I know that.
“I hear they’re hungry, those brute prisoner beasts. Insatiable.” Demetri’s wicked lips curve at the tips as he leads Tad to the slaughter like the appetizer he’s panning out to be.
“Don’t you know it. With all the cattle the government keeps shipping in, you’d think they were stocking every grocery chain in the nation with USDA prime roast beef. Heck, I wouldn’t mind a T-bone or two myself. Maybe I’ll ask to be moved to kitchen detail. I’ll feed a few prisoners while feeding myself, if you know what I mean.” He slaps a hand over his belly as he and Demetri share a laugh.
Poor Tad. If I don’t do something to get him off that island, he’ll be feeding the prisoners, all right—with his brain.
Just as I’m about to say something—anything, Mia and Melissa stomp into the room.
“I do not want him coming over!” Mia riots, red-faced and angry, as Melissa follows her into the kitchen with a look of glee on her face. Figures. What pisses Mia off pleases Melissa. The show is always the same.
“I’m off to bed,” Tad snarls to my sisters as if he doesn’t have time for their prime-time drama. Little does he know he’d be much better off in the middle of whatever war Mia and Melissa have going on than the one Demetri is cooking up. He looks to my mother and the demon at her side. “I’ll see the two of you on the mattress. Keep it down this time, would you? All that giggling and whispering makes for a restless night’s sleep.”
My mouth falls open and roots itself to the floor as Tad makes his exit. A thousand different accusations beg to rip from my throat, but not one of them can escape. Instead, I choke and struggle to catch my next breath.
“Did he?” I look to my mother and Demetri and shake my head as the two of them grin like loons. “You’re not. I mean, that’s sick.”
“Oh, Skyla.” Mom doesn’t hesitate to swat me. “Don’t make a big deal about the fact we’re sharing a bed. Tad has a very bad back, as does Demetri. You can’t expect either of them to sleep on the sofa. Ethan’s room never quite worked out. You know he and Em are trying.”
“Are you?” I balk incredulously at the prospect of what’s going on. “I suppose lying on your back is your favorite position.”
A foul odor goes off like a grenade as Nathan and Barron grunt and groan, kicking at both my mother and me in unison. It wouldn’t be the first time they pooped in synch. I’m not sure if it’s a twin thing or the fact they get fed in tandem, but it seems to happen more often than not.
“Come here, you.” Mom snatches the baby from me. “Did you boys make a stinky?” She trots off, hauling two toddlers who are almost half as long as she is, out of the room—and thus avoiding my question altogether.
I lean into Demetri with venom pouring from my eyes. “I think someone else made a stinky, too, and I’m looking at a big pile of—”
Demetri clears his throat. He tips his head back and laughs as he lets Misty down to play with Beau and Ember while Emily dishes out their dinner.
“Skyla”—he growls my name wi
th laughter curling around the edges—“what business is it of yours what three grown adults consent to?”
I take in a never-ending breath just as Gage pops up by my side and blesses my cheek with a kiss.
“What’s going on?” he whispers deep into my ear, sending a tickle all the way down to the soles of my feet.
“Your father just copped to the fact he’s having a nightly orgy with my mother and Tad. Do something, Gage. Muzzle him, leash him, zap him out of existence. For the love of all things holy and right, send him back to his haunted mansion and chain him up in the dungeon.”
Demetri and Gage share a brief chuckle, and I’m suddenly moved to deck them both.
“Are you talking about the fact they’re sharing a bed?” Gage looks at me with those bright blue eyes, and it feels as if he cut the floor out from beneath me. “I caught them one morning. Trust me, you don’t want to know. Barron ran in their room without a diaper, and I had no choice but to chase him down. Your mom and Tad said they were fine with it. The last thing I wanted to do was freak you out about it. I’m sure it’s totally innocent.” He hardens his features as he looks to his demented father. “Right, Pops?”
“Right.” Demetri frowns a moment. “What’s this about Wesley losing his powers? Didn’t you fight for your brother?”
Gage glowers at him a moment. Typical Demetri, he’s such a finger pointer. He’ll never take the blame for a single thing. But I’ll sure give Gage hell later for keeping the love-fest that’s been going on in this house from me.
Gage grunts as if he heard, “Skyla”—he doesn’t take his eyes off his father—“would you excuse us for a moment?”
Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After Book 5) Page 50