I whisk the door open without hesitation, and my heart soars at the sight of those miniature versions of the beast I just decimated. I wholly ignore the fact Emma is with them as I drop to my knees and pull them in close, my entire body bucking with pleasure, with pain.
“My sweet boys,” I whimper into their precious ears as I shower them with kisses. “I love you so much. Mommy loves you. Yes, she does.” They giggle and laugh as I hold them close, pressing them against me as hard as I can in their bundled winter coats.
“Chloe,” Gage belts out the reprimand and I stand slowly, letting them flutter out of my arms like a couple of birds as they run inside, past Gage and head straight for the television.
Emma says something as she presses past me and heads on in to tend to the boys, but my eyes are locked to that monster who has magically reconstructed himself. Gage Oliver is right back to being the masterpiece he has always been. Impossibly gorgeous, impeccably perfect. Not a trace of blood, two beautiful blue eyes, dimples that choose to mock me.
He squints my way a moment too long, scouring my features, then in a blink those blue eyes widen a notch and his chest expands with his next breath.
“Skyla?” My name comes from him lower than a whisper.
A moment of silence bounces by as I let this new reality sink in for him.
“I’m putting you on notice, Gage.” A flicker of a smile glints on my lips.
There are some moments in life that you want to stamp into your memory, ingrain them like fire over stone, a scar you create over the trunk of a tree so you will never forget, and this is that moment for me.
Gage Oliver has stolen so many things from me, but he is incapable, dare I say, impotent to steal this pure bliss I feel.
I turn to head for Marshall’s waiting car.
The fun has just begun.
3
Gage
Skyla Messenger. Skyla Messenger Oliver—twice over.
I have never been a fan of tormenting people, watching anyone get shamed or bullied, but it feels as if I’m doing all of those things on overdrive these days to everyone I love.
I miss Skyla.
Hell, I killed her.
Doesn’t that take away my right to miss her on a moral level? And what in the hell just happened? Was that Skyla? Is Chloe screwing with me? I don’t know why she wouldn’t.
And as much as I wanted to end that mystery, it seems my request to travel to Ahava was denied. I sent Demetri a text asking him what the hell was going on, but he simply let me know he was busy at the moment and that he would meet me in Eversor shortly.
Eversor.
I stand outside the massive structure—a replica of Demetri’s mansion, which is a knockoff of the very much haunted mansion in that nefarious plane given to the Counts, the Transfer. And like a wicked echo effect, my half-brother Wesley also built for himself a mausoleum that looked just like that cursed original. A part of me wonders what it all means. But then Sage crafted this monstrosity along with Demetri—maybe it all boiled down to her liking the monstrous layout.
This structure was erected on my behalf, in the massive plane gifted to me by my father. Not the man I consider to be my true father, but the Fem from whose seed I was created.
Eversor is an ethereal plane that floats somewhere high above Paragon. I’m guessing this isn’t a locale that human eyes can see. It’s more of a spiritual realm, nothing short of a bad idea.
And the structure? Well, that was constructed under the watchful supervision of my dear daughter, Sage. When Skyla was pregnant with the boys, she actually had one other bun in the oven. Yes, we were slated to have triplets, but fate had other plans and Sage was lost, reabsorbed into Skyla’s body. Medical science referred to Sage as a phantom, nothing but a few cells that came to their own end and amounted to nothing.
But Sage is very much alive in the heavenly realm. Her spirit is a feisty one; some might say temperamental. Candace, Skyla’s mother, being the self-proclaimed baby hater she is, aged Sage to be about five years old. Her words more or less, not mine. And for whatever reason, Sage has taken a peculiar liking to me over Skyla.
She considers Skyla her enemy. She outright cannot stand her mother. It’s safe to say I’ve seen a genuine loathing in her eyes when it comes to the woman who gave her a shot at any kind of existence.
But Sage loves me. She loves what she thinks I stand for, which is the Fems. She appreciates that the Fems are in an authoritative position, and by proxy she has a general dislike for both the Sectors and Celestra. She is cunning, cutthroat, and perhaps a little too dangerous. If she had survived, there is no doubt in my mind that Sage would have opened another can of troublesome worms for her mother. Her lust for power is as big as my own—the difference being, I’m driven by my love for Skyla and Sage is driven by her hate. It pains me to say this, but perhaps nature made the right decision with Sage. Had she lived, she could have wreaked havoc and hell far more abundantly than I have—and God knows I am off to a robust start.
The mansion, my mansion set in Eversor is a boxy building constructed of cold gray stones that gives it a castle-like feel. Inside, it’s a limestone palace, the walls, the floors, it’s all so very cold. In the grand room there is a fireplace the size of a garage, and there’s a weapons room upstairs that houses weaponry that I couldn’t even begin to understand how to utilize.
I take a breath that I don’t need, in a plane I’m not even sure exists, before putting one foot in front of the other and heading inside.
“Daddy!” Sage is the first to greet me in the magnificent foyer.
The grand room just to the right feels bigger than the high school I attended. But I don’t let myself linger on any thoughts related to West Paragon High. I can’t. For as tumultuous as a time I thought I was having, it turns out, it was the sweetest water I would ever drink. Skyla, Logan, and I had lightning in a bottle, and what I wouldn’t do to go back and rewrite a bit of history. Hell, I don’t think I’d change a paragraph—not of that chapter of my life anyway.
Sage wraps her tiny body around mine, and I pick her up and give her a quick toss in the air. Her long dark hair is French braided in two neat rows, her paper white skin, those shocking blue eyes and dimples—Sage holds my likeness through and through.
“Daddy, I’ve decided I rather like little Alice. She has a hankering for sharp objects and has a temper that can’t be contested. I’m afraid she can’t go back to Paragon.”
I frown over at the grand room where Nev, Ezrina, and Logan are playing cards.
“None of them are going back if I can help it.”
Little Alice emerges in search of her playmate and hisses as if she were a feral cat. Her red wiry curls look unruly, those lime green eyes of hers look like a threat, and she is every bit her mother’s daughter.
Ezrina McHatter is, was a red headed firecracker, a brilliant woman who was taken captive by the Counts, as assigned by Candace, for crimes Ezrina committed way back in 1692. Nev and Ezrina were in love way back then as well, but as fate would have it, Ezrina was forced to marry another man at the time. People died, Ezrina and Nev committed adultery, and the Justice Alliance didn’t look too fondly on the lovebirds. Candace banished Ezrina to the Transfer and placed Nev’s spirit into a Raven, and the two were forbidden from getting close to one another ever again.
But Nevermore—Heathcliff O’Hare—and Ezrina found their way back to one another. Once the last Faction war was over, Candace granted Ezrina Chloe’s old body, and Nev was gifted Pierce Kragger’s body—and never were two people more thrilled to be alive, even if it was in different skin.
They teamed up to fight for Celestra—and Ezrina, being the mad scientist she is, took on a majority of the heavy lifting and came up with an antidote to help hide the markers. And once Skyla’s brand-new bundle of joy arrived into this tumultuous world, it turned out her placenta offered some regenerative cells that were the missing key ingredient to help stabilize the antidote, and in effect they we
re able to hide the markers on a more permanent basis.
Apparently, Logan’s super sperm played a large part in the endeavor.
So it’s easy to surmise why I’ve imprisoned Ezrina. She’s the key to getting all those genetic parts moving in the right direction. Of course, Nev would have moved heaven and earth to be with her, so I brought him along for the ride. And without a doubt, the two of them would have ended this party pretty quickly if Alice weren’t with them, thus I’ve tripled my kidnapping charges without hesitation.
Although, it wasn’t me who actually strong-armed them and whisked them away to Eversor. No, I left the dirty work to the musclemen my father gifted me—Barnabas, Belshazzar, and Micah, a trio of knock ’em, rock ’em robotic Fems who will do whatever the hell I want, no questions asked.
“Daddy.” Sage kicks her way back to the floor. “Alice says she’ll convert to our side and fight for our victory. Isn’t that great? That’s what we’re playing now, victory games where we chop off the heads of Celestra and hang them on poles for all to see.”
“Chop, chop!” Little Alice strolls up holding a stick. Her face is so pale you can see the veining around her eyes, while her lips glow a dark shade of ruby from the all-organic feast Ezrina serves up night after night, no doubt.
I give her a quick pat to the head. “Have fun, girls.”
Ezrina looks my way and her expression sours. “She’s a toddler, Sage. Don’t take a thing she says seriously.” Ezrina’s hair is frizzed out in every direction, giving her that nutty professor appeal she’s after, but despite the fact I’m holding her hostage, she’s been civil to both Sage and me.
Nev holds up the cards in his hand. “You want in on this one, Master Gage?”
Chloe gifted Nevermore to me when we were just starting out high school, before Skyla came into our lives. That was back when Nev was still trapped in the body of a raven. But he’s since been freed and runs around like the stud Pierce Kragger once was. Although, admittedly, Nev has let the muscles fall to waste, and he’s looking every bit like his old lanky self these days. Both Nev and Ezrina have been more or less good sports for lack of a better word about being down—or should I say up here in my own personal hell. It’s Logan that’s been nothing but piss and vinegar.
Logan shoots me a dirty look. “He doesn’t want to play. He’s too afraid he’ll lose. That’s exactly why he has the four of us locked up in his dime store version of paradise.”
I shake my head as I pour myself a drink at the bar. “That’s why I have the three of them locked up. You, my friend, did what you always do. You got in the way. You got caught up in the frenzy. And, I’ll be honest, I’m glad about it.”
I toast him with the trashy whiskey Demetri sent over. It might just be the finest, but it all tastes like rubbing alcohol to me. I’ve never been much of a drinker, but if my life, or afterlife for that matter, ever warranted it, it’s now.
Logan hops to his feet. “I’m out of this one,” he says, landing his cards to the table before materializing in front of me. “You saw Skyla, didn’t you? I don’t have to ask twice because you’re day drinking. You’re not a day drinker, are you, Gage?”
“The sun went down over Paragon a long time ago. And I’m not sure if I saw Skyla.” I tip my head to the side, still genuinely stymied by what just transpired. Someone—Chloe perhaps—just made sure I had my ass handed to me. “What do you want?”
“I miss my son.” The words depress from him hypnotically slow, the way you say things when you mean them almost too much. I can tell the guy is in pain, in agony. “Take me back to Paragon, Gage. Burn down the lab below Whitehorse. Hell, burn down Whitehorse. I’ll help you. I just need to get back to my boy. Skyla’s a tough girl. I know she’s taking care of things, of herself and the kids, but I will never get this time back with Jaxson. You have two little boys yourself.” His words dig into my soul, and I’m positive that’s exactly what he wanted. “You would be furious if I did this to you. They grow so fast, and I’m missing it. I haven’t heard him laugh yet—a real belly laugh and that milestone might have passed me by.” Tears glint in his eyes, and I can tell they’re the real deal.
“Have a drink.” I slide my glass over to him and he takes a sip.
“Geez, is this what you’re boozing it up with?” He lands it back on the counter with an aggressive shake of his head. “That’s too high octane for me.” He takes a breath, those amber eyes of his bearing into mine and I feel his camaraderie, his brotherhood even now as if nothing has ever changed between us. “I still love you, Gage.” He slaps a hand over my back. “I know that look in your eyes. You’re doubting yourself, doubting me, looking for a life raft. I don’t know what has you so rattled, but I’m going to deep dive and figure this out. I’m going to pull you out of this misery, I promise.”
“You keep believing that.” I pull my drink my way once again. “I’m not sending you back.”
“You’re sending me back,” he says it like a fact. “There are just some things you wouldn’t do, and keeping me from my infant son is one of them.” He steadies his gaze over mine as if he were trying to read me again. “You wouldn’t hurt Skyla, either. You’re incapable.”
My cheek flinches as if he struck me. I wonder what Logan would do if he knew that not only did I hurt her, I snuffed the life right out of her. Hell, I would have strangled her to keep her from destroying our eternity together. And that alone is a testament to my madness.
In fact that is the very reason I did it. If Celestra ever takes the power position with the Factions again, Wes and I will sink to hell right along with the Fems. Our destinies are tied along with theirs, it’s been very well confirmed. And an eternity without Skyla is nothing I can bear. Unfortunately, there will be casualties. Apparently hell needs its gate keepers, its professional tormentors to make sure the hellish job is being done right, and if the Sectors are sitting on the bottom rung then they’ll be in the pit along with the rest of the damned. And that includes Marshall Dudley, and apparently Candace as well. I didn’t write the ridiculous rules, I’m just living them. And that’s why I’m ruling the Faction roost. I’m not missing out on forever with the ones I love most. I’d do anything to ensure it—even sending Skyla to paradise a little early to keep her from toppling me.
“I don’t want to talk about Skyla.” I close my eyes and hope to God when I open them I’m still stuck in the sweatbox back at the Landons’ house, married to Skyla—my life as a simple Levatio very much intact. How I loathed the fact Skyla and I had to live there under Tad Landon’s roof because I couldn’t provide, and in an irony only the universe could provide, those will go down as the happiest days of my life.
“Let’s talk about getting your head out of your ass,” he whispers. “Ezrina is talking Justice Alliance. I’d hate to see Candace ship you off to paradise for good.”
“Liar.” I pour myself another finger of that varnish remover Demetri is trying to poison me with. “You would very much like me lost in space while you and Skyla and the Factions live a Gage Oliver-free life. I’m not offended. Not entirely. It makes sense. I’m the thorn in your side. The oppressor. I don’t really give a shit what title you want to give me. I have a task laid out in front of me, and I’m carrying on. You do you, Logan. But I’m not going anywhere.”
A fire ignites in his eyes.
A dull laugh strums from me, and I can feel the burn of the whiskey, appreciating the tiny buzz it’s trying to give me.
“I’m guessing it’s not the answer you wanted to hear. Too bad. I win. You lose. Maybe you’ll see your kid graduate high school.” I raise the glass to my lips, and Logan knocks it out of my hand, sending it crashing to the floor in an explosion of broken glass.
“Alice!” Ezrina is quick to call her child to safety.
My child is dead. Sage could eat the glass for all I care.
“Boys, boys.” Nevermore is between us in an instant. “Must I remind you both, violence is never the answer.” His eyes enlarg
e as he looks to Logan. I’m not blind. I’ve seen them all feigning impotence around me, pretending to be silently terrified, all the while plotting, scheming their way back to Earth, anxious to put another boulder between heaven and me.
I hold up my hands and offer a cheesy grin to Logan, the exact one I know presses on his last nerve.
“Go ahead and hit me.” I don’t mind taunting him at all. “I’ve already taken one beatdown today. What’s another? I survived that one, and I’ll survive this one. I want to feel your rage. It spurs me on, Logan. It fuels me in a whole new way and assures me that I’m going in the right direction. So go ahead and knock my teeth out. Gouge my eyes out, pull my guts up through my throat. Be creative. I need to reenergize my resolve to keep you at bay. Sorry, Jaxson. Looks like Daddy is going to miss your first year.”
Logan grabs me by the shirt and pulls me in hard. “You little piece of shit. You do not get to burn the world because you’ve got a hair up your ass and feel the need to wear some paper crown. Can’t you see they’re using you? They really took your head off, didn’t they? And the one that replaced it is no better. Demetri scooped your brain out and took a crap in your skull, and all that oozes from you now is whatever sick idea he tells you. Have you taken inventory of the harm you’ve done? Or do you wash your hands of it and dive into the next dung heap he’s got for you?”
“Boys,” Demetri’s voice cuts across the room as he races this way with Sage.
Logan gives me a gentle shove away from him. “You’re on the wrong road. If you’ve ever trusted me, trust me now. Whatever it is he’s telling you, whatever strings he’s moving you around with, don’t believe him. Cut the ties to this madman. This is not you. It’s not who you are at the core. I know you well, Gage. I do.”
Roar of the Lion : Celestra Forever After 7 Page 10