Roar of the Lion : Celestra Forever After 7

by Addison Moore

  Dear God, Chloe whines. You’re not only starting rumors in the first five minutes, you’re propagating them.

  Brookelynn fans herself while biting down over her bottom lip. “Well, he’s totally hot. Have a good time. Do everything I would do.” She chortles a little too long and Brody frowns over at her.

  “No.” Brody shakes his head at me. “You’re not going.”

  “What?” both Chloe and I sing it like a chorus. “What do you mean I’m not going? Just try to stop me.”

  “I mean you’re not going.” He continues his impromptu tyranny. “Dudley doesn’t have pure intentions with you. Why in the hell would he be taking you of all people out, anyway?”

  “Gee, thanks, Brody.” I scoff at his terrible attitude. But, then again, Marshall has been known to womanize in the past, and Chloe hasn’t exactly been on her best celestial behavior these past few dozen years. I suppose he’s right to question this strange union.

  Marshall sighs over at Brody. “Tell him it’s a meeting of the minds.”

  “We’re strategizing,” I say. “He needs a genius to confer with, and I was the only one on the island he could think of.”

  Chloe chuckles. It looks like you’re getting the hang of it. Now give him the finger and let’s take off.

  I shake my head.

  A car horn goes off outside, and I peek out the window to see Marshall’s fancy sports car idling in the street. It’s nice to know Marshall works quickly with both fast girls and fast cars.

  “My ride is here. I’ll see you both later.”

  “Wait,” Brody calls after me, but I’ve already made a run for it with my sweater pulled over my hair as the rain does its best to soak me.

  I laugh as Marshall and I take off.

  “Where to, Ms. Messenger?”

  “Chloe?” I ask, demonstrating exactly how respectful I can be.

  You know where to go. You both know where to go. I want to see that bastard I’ve wasted all my energy pining over. And then I want to watch you beat him to a pulp.

  “I’m not getting in a fistfight with Gage,” I say, pulling down the sun visor and examining my new Chloe features in the mirror.

  He wouldn’t hit a girl, Skyla.

  “He would if the girl were you.”

  And maybe me.

  Marshall drives us to Paragon Estates and slows down as we pass the old Walsh house—the house Gage and I bought, mostly with my inheritance. It’s the house we spent every single night in before Demetri cut off Gage Oliver’s head and ended my world as I knew it. And how I loved my world with Gage in it. But then, Chloe moved in and the abomination of desolation took up residency in my bedroom.

  You do realize I can hear you, Skyla. And by the way, do you really go through life talking to yourself as if you were narrating a novel? You’re such a narcissist. You’ve probably fooled yourself into thinking people are actually interested in listening in on what you have to say.

  “I’m interested, Chloe,” I say. “And by sheer proximity, you’ll be interested, too.”

  Hear that, Dudley? She’s already starting in with the threats. I say get me off the Skyla Express. I want my money back.

  “Be quiet, Chloe,” I whisper as I inspect the house with its peachy glow. It looks as if evening is setting in. And I could swear it was just morning.

  Marshall nods. “It was, Ms. Messenger. In the spirit realm, we blink and a week can drift by on the planet. But now that you’re in a body, you’re subject to time once again. The adjustment is almost instant. Shall we drop in and see how Jock Strap is faring these days?”

  Oh, we shall, Chloe answers for me.

  “Very well,” he says, pulling along the curb. “I’ll pay a friendly visit to Emma and Barron in the meantime.”

  I get out and take a deep breath as I look at my old home.

  My old home, Skyla. At least get the narration right.

  “Fine,” I say. I’m not picking a fight with her while I’m in her body. Besides, I have far more important celestial beasts to fry.

  I walk boldly to the front door and give a brisk knock. It feels strange knocking on my own door. Technically, I have the right to break it down if I want to, and with Gage milling around inside, I might just want to.

  Refrain from violence, Messenger. Apparently, it bears repeating—I do not want to have a police record by the time you’re done with me.

  “No record. Got it.”

  And stop being so nice. I need you to bitch up and do it fast.

  The door swings open, and standing before us is a dark-haired, blue-eyed, tall glass of Femtastic water.

  Oh, good grief. Down, girl. Chloe’s mind purrs like an engine at the sight of him, and for a solid ten seconds the two of us are nothing more than a couple of drooling fools. He killed you, for Pete’s sake.

  Yes, I say. He did.

  “Gage,” his name swims from my lips like a betrayal.

  Ditto for me, Chloe chimes.

  “What do you want?” His tone is curt, his demeanor hardened.

  “I—uh, I thought maybe the boys would be here and I could stop in and say hi.”

  “What?” both Gage and Chloe sing in unison.

  For your information, Messenger, Chloe grouses. I don’t call them the boys. I call them the brats.

  Gage pinches his eyes shut a moment. “Chloe, the boys aren’t here. They’re next door. I was helping my dad do a little weed abatement and I’m tired. What is it you want?”

  “Weed abatement?” Is that what they’re calling murder these days? And a weed? Really? I bet that’s all I ever was to him. Something wild and unwanted that he was dying to pluck out of sight for who knows how long. A righteous anger begins to percolate in me. “I don’t like the tone you’re taking with me,” I say as I step on in, bumping my shoulder to his as I pass him by.

  “Hey?” he barks. “What the hell are you doing?”

  I give a quick glance around and spot a few plates on the kitchen counter, on that beautiful marble counter Lexy helped me pick out. Lex helped me pick out every fancy appliance, counter, and cabinet, including the hardwood flooring, and the carpeting in this place. It was a renovation for the ages. I went all out. Gage and I really did think we were going to grow old together in this house. But fate and a couple of assholes had different plans.

  The door slams from behind so violently loud it sounds like a gunshot.

  “All right, I get it,” Gage says, heading my way. “You’re pissed. I already gathered that. What’s the real reason you’re here?”

  I turn and examine this hardened version of the man I once shared a bed with.

  “I came for my things. You may have taken my pride, but you can’t have my blue jeans.” I shoot him a short-lived snarky smile as only Chloe could muster. “So what’s next? You took a giant shit on everyone who was in your corner. Wes is giving you the finger and so am I. Are you going to try to win Skyla back? Is that the next big strategy on your list?”

  Chloe openly gags, but I choose to ignore her. The real reason I brought myself up was so that I could see the look in his eyes when he hears my name. He doesn’t know that I’m lurking under these dark tresses, behind these unknowably dark eyes. He certainly doesn’t know that Chloe is aware that he snuffed my life out like a candle and invited a demon into my body.

  Okay, so Rory is no demon, but she’s damn close.

  Potato, po-ta-to, Chloe chirps. Kick him in the nuts and let’s collect my things. Hell, let’s set fire to that butterfly room, too. It was their love nest, Skyla. He shouldn’t get to brood in there and jack off to all of those disgusting memories.

  True, I say. But I’d rather set fire to his plans to rule the world first. The butterfly room can wait.

  “Skyla is set to marry Logan in just a few weeks.” The words croak out of me. “How does that make you feel?” What I really want to know is how can he let that farce happen. How could he sell Rory to Logan for less than a song?

  Gage inches back
a notch. “Why do you care?” His chest expands with a sigh. “Yes, she is set to marry Logan.” He stares off at some unknown horizon. “I’m sure she and Logan will appreciate the hell out of one another.” He heads for the fridge and offers me a water.

  “No thanks,” I say.

  Wow, Chloe muses. Gage has never offered me so much as a square of tissue paper to wipe my bottom. I’d take the water. It feels like an olive branch.

  I huff a dull laugh at the thought. Don’t get excited, Chloe. It’s probably spiked with poison.

  I step over, closing the distance between us in an effort to examine this monster who doesn’t look or feel like a monster at all at close range.

  “Something’s wrong with Skyla.” I put it out there in hopes he’ll bite.

  His brow flickers as he looks my way.

  “So?” He shuts the fridge and downs half the water himself. “I don’t really give a shit.”

  My blood boils in an instant—Chloe’s blood—and it feels just as toxic as I thought it would.

  “What do you mean you don’t give a shit?”

  Skyla, Chloe snips my name out. He thinks he’s talking to me. You’ll have to learn to not take things so personally.

  He killed me, Chloe, I say. I can damn well take things personally.

  She thinks about it. Point taken.

  “What do you care if I give a shit?” Gage tosses the rest of his unfinished water bottle into the sink from across the room as if he were shooting a basket.

  “I don’t know”—my eyes flit to a frying pan sitting on the stovetop, and I’m tempted to wield it like a baseball bat—“she gave birth to your kids. I thought maybe you’d want to know she’s running around the island acting like a loon.” Okay, so I don’t know if this is true. But honestly? It’s probably not a far stretch.

  “My sons are no longer in her care.”

  This borrowed heart of mine wallops against my Chloe-issued chest.

  “She has another son—Jaxson,” I remind him softly.

  “Logan can worry about him.” He pulls out his phone and scrolls through it.

  “Logan?” An incredulous laugh pumps from me. “Logan isn’t checking in,” I thunder. “Nobody knows where he is.” My voice spikes to the ceiling and causes Gage to pause from the task at hand as his gaze flits my way.

  His eyes squint over with suspicion. “Since when do you give a crap about anyone, Chloe?” His chest bucks with a silent laugh. “Is this the new and improved version? Because I’m not buying it. Fight for Celestra if that’s what you want to do. You won’t win. Leave Skyla alone. And Logan can take care of himself. You do you, Chloe. In other words, it’s business as usual.”

  I suck in a quick breath.

  “Really?” I take a few bold steps his way. “You’re just going to sit around and let Skyla fall to shit?” I say that last word right in his face because that’s what I think he is, shit. “While Logan, the one you love like a brother, is God knows where?” A choking sound comes from me in lieu of a laugh. “But you do know where, don’t you? Where is he, Gage? Where did you lock him up? The butterfly room? The magical realm for pussies your daddy gave you—Eversor?” I take another step in, fighting the urge to let myself become hypnotized by those jarring blue eyes. “That’s right, Gage. You are a pussy. You took everything good you had with Skyla, with Logan...”

  With me, Chloe prods me to say it. Don’t forget me.

  “With Chloe.” A breath hitches in my throat for a moment as I let her name slip. And yet a part of me doesn’t care if he puts the pieces to the body-snatching puzzle together or not. “And you turned it into a pile of steaming horse crap,” I continue. “You are the equivalent of a walking, talking anus who does nothing but churn out crap from everything that was once good. You’re a genuine asshole.” I poke a finger in his chest. “The real stinking deal. And I’m so glad Rory lifted your skirt so we could all see you didn’t have a dick swinging between your shaven legs after all.”

  Chloe belts out a husky laugh. Kudos, Messenger. Kudos!

  Gage’s eyes widen a notch as he examines me as if searching for answers.

  “That’s right.” The words puff from me in anger. “Your whole life is a steaming pile of shit. You feared losing Skyla so damn much, you let your insecurities eat you for breakfast.”

  Gage snatches me by the shoulders and gives me a rattle. “You don’t get to say her name.” He lets go as if resisting the urge to push me through a wall. “Skyla is dead to me.” It comes out with a whimper, and assumingly so because he’s being literal.

  “She’s dead to you?” I riot. My eyes snags on that frying pan once again, and I snatch it up and belt him over the skull without hesitation. A horrible thunk resonates in the kitchen as his head flies to the left.

  “Geez!” he shouts as he snatches the pan from my hand and flings it clear into the living room like a Frisbee until it smashes against the wall, leaving a dent. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you.” His voice shakes as he does his best to control himself. “Leave now before I do something to you, and we both regret you came over.”

  My feet carry me toward him as if he just issued a challenge.

  “I’ll leave when you tell me where Logan is.” I grab him by the arms and rattle him the way he did me. “Tell me where Ezrina is. Where the hell Nev and Alice are, too. Now speak!”

  Gage pants angrily as the veins in his neck bulge for me to see. “There is a long line of people I would whisper my secrets to, and you aren’t even at the bottom of the list. All of those people you’re wondering about? They’re not wondering about you, Chloe. If Skyla is giving you the finger, it’s because you deserve it.”

  Chloe growls like a demon roaring out of Hell, but I’ve got this one.

  My knee lifts right into his balls at supersonic speeds, and I hear a satisfying pop.

  Gage howls so loud the roof might as well have disjointed.

  “You little bitch!” he bellows as he bends over, and I snatch up that frying pan again and whack him over the head once more, putting all of my—all of Chloe’s Celestra strength behind it.

  Gage tilts to the side, leaning against the refrigerator as if for support before sinking to the floor.

  “It’s nice to know your newly-issued body still feels something,” I say as my chest heaves with each erratic breath. “Even though your heart is incapable.”

  I turn to leave, and he snatches at my ankle and pulls me to the ground.

  My face hits the floor with a violent slap, and it takes me a moment to regain my bearings.

  Messenger, Chloe snaps. This is the exact kind of crap I warned you about.

  A grunt comes from me as I turn to look at him. Gage has a wild fury brewing in his eyes.

  “You don’t get to beat the hell out of me and get away with it so easy,” he grits the words through his teeth.

  “Yes, I do.” I shove my heel into his face, so fast, so hard, it’s like a speeding train meeting with a building, and Gage lets out a furtive roar.

  “Damn you,” he growls as he pulls me under him. “Get the hell out of my house. On second thought, I’m going to throw you out—of a damn window.”

  “Get off of me.” Shielding my thoughts around Gage has never been easy, but I’ve got twice the reason to keep my internal musings to myself. After he garnered his new body, he gained just about every power under the heavenly sun, and reading minds while touching was one of them. I struggle to push his body from mine. Gage has always been built like a linebacker, but since he’s been back, his muscles are the equivalent of steel cables.

  Gage bows his head toward mine as if he were going to kiss me, and my stomach squeezes tightly as it’s been prone to do, as I’m sure Chloe’s is prone to do, too. He dips his mouth to my ear.

  “I’m going to kill you, Chloe,” he pants the words out as if he were caught up in ecstasy, and considering how long he’s probably waited to whisper those deadly sweet nothings, he just might be. “And
maybe, just maybe, I’m going to make it look as if Skyla did it. Or better yet, she just might want to help. Consider it an early Christmas gift from the both of us.”

  A shriek of a cry expels from me.

  How dare he ever think of me in any form of a union with him ever again. How dare he consider smearing my name with my children still roaming free on this planet. How dare he become the dark-winged demon that fooled the masses and now is bent on killing everyone he once pretended to love—with the exception of Chloe. He was always very honest about his feelings for her.

  Not to me, he wasn’t, she pipes up. Gouge those blue eyes out, Skyla. Do it for the both of us.

  Chloe doesn’t have to ask twice. Without hesitation, I pull his neck down to me and claw my fingernails into his left eye with all of the Celestra strength I can muster. But in truth, I have enough rage fueling me that I could have pulled this off with my human determination all on its own.

  Gage squirms, but it’s too late. I have his glibbery eyeball in my hand and I pull and twist as his blood drips over my lips, and into my mouth, leaving me to spit out the salty sanguine liquid.

  Gage bellows out a string of garbled words, his hands fly to my throat, and before I know it, he’s on his feet holding me at an arm’s length by the neck as if he were about to make good on that promise of tossing me out the window.

  “I hate you!” my voice pitches to the ceiling, and I swear on all that is good and evil that Chloe screamed the exact same sentiment right along with me. “I hate you, Gage Oliver, just as much as I have ever loved you, if not more.” I let go of his bloody eyeball, and it dangles by his cheek from the tendons it’s still bound to. I kick at his legs and push his face away, doing my best to claw his hand from my throat.

  My God, he’s killed me once. I can’t let him do it again.

  Messenger! Chloe riots. Fix this shit right now!

  A knock comes from the door. The weak, anxious knock of a child, and Gage drops me like a stone.

  “Daddy?” The sweetest choir breaks out on the other side, and instantly I know it’s the boys. I pull my shirt up and wipe the blood off my face as best as I can, then crawl to the door as quickly as possible in an effort to beat Gage to it. But Gage heads to the kitchen a moment, buying me the respite I need to hop up and check my reflection in the mirror hanging in the foyer. And what I see I don’t like. Wild hair—pink stains over my lips that I quickly wipe away with my fingers. It’s a feral version of Chloe, but presentable enough, I suppose.