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Roar of the Lion : Celestra Forever After 7

Page 43

by Addison Moore


  “I have no idea why Skyla keeps that thing around.” He rolls up his sleeves, and I can see the thick red welts over his skin.

  “Geez.” I pull him in by the wrist. “Do you see this crap? Why is this still happening?” I ask Ezrina as I shake his arm before her.

  “I see,” she says without a single thread of interest. “Cooper needs to hide. I can’t help him.”

  Coop huffs at the thought. “I’m not hiding. I need to protect Laken and the kids.”

  A sarcastic grin rides on my lips. “That’s what you got me for, buddy. Find a nice closet to call your own. I’ll have Tobie whip you up something in her Easy Bake once in a while. It’s good stuff. You’ll like it.”

  “I’m not laughing.” He nods to Ezrina. “What have you got for me?”

  Ezrina lets out an exasperated sigh. “Try the Spectators.”

  “Try the Spectators?” I lift a brow. “What the hell is going on?”

  Coop folds his arms across his chest. “We’re in a war if you haven’t noticed. As you pointed out, the Fems are behind this plague that’s got the planet by the balls. We need to find a cure. And, seeing that the Spectators now have the ability to turn on and off their condition, we’re going to see if we can’t get a few of them to volunteer to take on the virus. See if they can turn it on and off again.” He glances to Ezrina. “Is that right?”

  “Right,” she grunts unconvincingly as she continues to work feverishly with the compounds before her.

  “It’s not going to work.” I take a deep breath. “We’re not turning everyone on the planet into Spectators.”

  “Not the planet, Wes,” Coop says as he walks on by. “Just our people.”

  “Still not working,” I shout over to him. “Besides”—I say to Ezrina and Nev—“we need a global solution.”

  Logan strides over with that perennially pissed look on his face. Or at least it is as of late.

  “What did you do?” he asks.

  I glance past him and spot the boys crying.

  “I didn’t do anything. They wanted to see the head, and I told them to talk to Skyla.”

  “I’m not talking about that.” He pinches his eyes closed. “The serum you were working on. Is that the crap Gage is running with?”

  “The serum—” I spin in a circle, disorienting myself. “What the hell?” I look up at Ezrina with wild eyes. “My God, I think it might be true. My serum was defunct. It exposed the markers, it highlighted them.”

  Logan yanks me in. “I don’t care. Recreate it.” He nods to Ezrina. “You checked it out for Demetri. Don’t tell me you didn’t take notes.”

  “Ezrina?” I growl out her name and Nev steps up with his chest expanded.

  “No notes.” She shakes her head. “Not possible. There was a binding spirit.” She shrugs. “The chemical makeup was backward, Wesley. Solid effort on your part.”

  I stagger a moment. “Demetri must have maneuvered it, added something, tweaked it until he made it do his bidding.”

  “Subtracted something? Left it alone?” Logan offers, and both Ezrina and I lock eyes.

  “I don’t know,” I say, rolling up my sleeves. “But we need to beat him at his own game. Let’s get to work.”

  Gage and Demetri are about to pull a fast one with my own ammunition.

  Now to find a way to make sure it backfires on them somehow.

  It will.

  I’ll make damn sure of it myself.

  Now to recreate my best, my most dangerous mistake, and make Gage and Demetri sorry they ever thought to take what was mine.

  21

  Hell on Earth

  Candace

  Ahava glistens like a jewel as the water beneath my feet shimmers in the light.

  Sector Marshall treads this way with a hardened expression.

  “Your Grace.” He nods, and I stand as he speeds my way. “The planet is in peril. Your mercy is desired, His mercy is required. Shall I go to the throne, or will you intercede for the Nephilim? Might I remind you they are your charges. Your very flesh, living and breathing. Skyla is—”

  “Mine,” I say it sharp in the event he needed a reminder. “And I will tend to her, and my people, when I see fit. Why do you fret? I don’t care for this anxious side of you.”

  “Why do I fret?” His tone is curt. Nothing I’m used to hearing from him. “Your Grace. I happen to reside on that boulder of an island. I see the misery of those poor humans firsthand. The dying, the grief. They can no longer offer proper funerals for their own people. The dead are loaded and burned in batches. You cannot turn a blind eye to this travesty. You cannot insist on allowing the enemy to ravage these people any longer. All of this for what?” His voice hikes to dangerous levels.

  Dangerous for him, not me.

  I lean back in my seat and harden my gaze on the distant shore.

  “Where is Demetri?”

  Sector Marshall steps in close.

  “I don’t care, and neither should you.” His crimson eyes meet with mine. “But you do.” The muscles in his jaw tighten.

  “Sector Marshall, you are strong inside and out. Too comely for your own good. You understand your moral boundary and never do you waver. You covet matters of the heart and value the opinions and thoughts of those you care about. How did I ever decide to gift you to my child?” I shake my head as I take in this treasure.

  A dark laugh pricks the silence as Demetri himself strides our way.

  “It seems I’ve interrupted a rather amusing confessional.” He nods my way then to the Sector.

  “Yes,” I say. “That you have. “Sector Marshall was just sharing his displeasure with me.”

  “With the situation,” he corrects.

  “With me.” I nod as I look his way. “Let’s make no bones about it. You blame me for this disaster that’s befallen mankind, which, in fact, is not my error.”

  Sector Marshall’s chest expands. “Perhaps not your disaster entirely, but Your Grace, there is much you can do to dampen the effects of this plague.”

  “Virus,” Demetri corrects. “And I will graciously take full responsibility. My, my Sector, it seems you’ve wound up my ladylove. Whatever shall I do to punish you?”

  Sector Marshall growls at him, low and animalistic. “You punish me daily on the planet we’re both subjected to endure. You punish me with your presence, with your actions, and with your wicked heart, your wicked intent.” He turns his fury back my way. “And Your Grace, you punish as well. You punish your people by standing by and allowing this creature to torment those poor souls. You punish your child by denying her an open line of communication with you. And you punish yourself by insisting on engaging with this beast. I should have put an end to this farce centuries ago.”

  “Enough!” My voice riots over the expanse, causing the water to ripple away from me at once. “You do not have a say in what I do or with whom I engage. Something needed to be done with the Nephilim. A destiny designed.”

  Sector leans in. “And you didn’t need him to interfere. Had you inquired elsewhere, a more amicable, peaceable solution could have been found. Instead, you took the bitter war your hearts were waging and plagued the world with it. This no longer involves the Nephilim alone. Souls have perished. Destinies destroyed. Economies crumbled. Entire countries thrown into abject poverty overnight. There are bread lines, and lines at the crematorium. Ask yourself this, Candace—was this charade worth it?”

  I float a notch into the expanse above me as his voice rises to undue levels.

  “Mind yourself, Sector,” I warn.

  “Or what?” he roars so loud, a crowd has amassed along the shoreline.

  Demetri’s chest bucks with a laugh. “One minute it’s Your Grace, the next you’re merely Candace. I do believe he’s spending far too much time with those ornery humans. They are ardent lovers of themselves, unable to show an ounce of reverence where reverence is due. There must be some way we can punish him.”

  I glance his way. “There
is no we, Demetri. There was never a we. That’s where you went wrong. That’s where I went right.” I lift a brow to Sector Marshall. “Don’t worry. There will be no penalty for your outburst. Heaven does know that being forced to reside Earth side is enough to sand down even the steeliest of sanities. Be gone. I’ll take care of what I must.”

  The Sector nods my way. “If I may, I’d like to observe a moment longer.” His nostrils flare to the Fem among us. “What havoc have you come to flaunt in her presence?”

  “Havoc?” Demetri’s smile disintegrates. “I’ll have you know, Marshall, I bring no havoc, only solutions.” His lips flex in my honor. “Your Grace, I have come to let you know this disaster shall pass as quickly as it came. The serum is well in supply.” He sharpens his eyes over at Sector Marshall. “And all will receive it.” He curls a malevolent smile as he nods to the two of us. “Enjoy the visit.” He stalks off, evaporating as he glides over the surface of the water like the serpent he is.

  “Your Grace.” Sector Marshall bows his head my way.

  “Silence. I’ve heard enough from you. Why aren’t you minding my daughter? If there is havoc on the planet, surely the two of you should shoulder some blame. Don’t answer. Those are rhetorical questions for you to ponder when you’re back in that castle you’ve afforded yourself.” I tip my chin up as I look to the shore. “Aurora.” Her name comes from me with an undue calm, and yet the winds stir the waters to unruly waves at the mention of her.

  A flash of light emits from the Falls and quick as a lightning she lands before me.

  “Aurora.” I bless her with her name once again as I take in this pasty, yet rowdy, version of the daughter I know.

  “How do you like me now, Mother?” She does a little curtsy.

  “Oh, as if poor Melody Winters’ body hasn’t been through enough. And how is Cassandra Graham doing in there?” I squint as I look into each of her eyes. “You’ve colored her locks twice already, and now it’s the same daring shade of amber that her mother wears. It was golden just the other night.” I frown at the thought. “You know I don’t approve of modifying the host. Please, Rory, you’re building quite a case for a reversal of my possession liberties. Do refrain from imposing anything permanent on the girl.”

  A laugh bubbles from her. “Oh, Mother, why are you always such a drag? I’m having a ball down there. I’m coveted by women for the treasures Melody has amassed. I’m wanted by men for this body.” She takes a moment to scowl at Sector Marshall. “And I’ve donned an interesting alliance. Hurry, Mother, and send me back. I’ve always suspected Earth would be terrible fun, and now that I get to see it for myself, I don’t want to waste a moment of it.”

  “Terrible fun,” Sector Marshall says mostly to himself.

  “I see.” I take a breath as I look to my precious daughter. “In that case, I’ll try not to steal too much of your time. Listen, child, and listen well.” I stride over and maintain my gaze over hers. “It’s time.” I nod. “Everything we spoke about will come to fruition. You know what you must do.”

  Her countenance grows instantly somber as she closes her eyes a moment.

  “Yes, Mother, I do.”

  “I gather you won’t disappoint me?”

  Her eyes flash to mine. “Never. And never will I forget what you’ve done for me. What you have allowed.”

  “Make me proud.”

  Her lips flicker just south of a smile. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

  Her corporal frame dissolves before me, and I watch as her eyes are the last to leave.

  “There’s that.” Sector Marshall takes a breath. “At least she’s a realist.” He takes her place in front of me. “How about extending the same mercy to another one of your daughters? Skyla would love to have a moment with you.”

  “Skyla, Logan, even Gage has put in a request to darken these waters.”

  “Then darken them. Give them the answers they desire.” His chest depresses with a sigh. “Give him the answers he longs to hear.”

  “It’s not my place. The honor belongs to my daughter, the one born under a golden beam of light. Both you and I know there is no glory without treachery.”

  “And treachery’s name is Demetri Edinger. I bid you to mind the souls you’ve set in place.”

  “I bid you to mind my daughter.”

  A dark chuckle expels from him. “Your daughter is well capable of minding herself.” He steps in far too close. “If you won’t mind humanity, then I’m afraid I’ll need to step outside of my delineated role. Let it be known I’ve laid my intentions bare.” He turns and heads off toward the Falls—gallant and brave like a soldier stepping onto the front lines about to meet with a certain death.

  “You may not step outside the bounds set in place for you, Sector Marshall,” I call out, but he doesn’t mind me. “Did you hear me? You may not break faith with the oath you took before I sent you to Earth.” My voice comes back to me as an echo.

  “I’ll break faith if I must. And I’m afraid I must.”

  “You will not defy me,” I roar, and all of Ahava trembles at the sound of my voice.

  Everything is upending.

  Rory is a wild card.

  Demetri is a devil.

  Skyla’s hands are tied.

  Logan—my hope, their hope.

  He must make things right.

  Celestra must prosper.

  Or so help me God, I’ll go down there and make sure they prosper myself.

  22

  Skyla

  The rain falls in haste over Paragon, but it can’t wash away the sickness that seems to have ensconced every facet of humanity.

  Logan and I gather with the kids and my sisters as we congregate in front of the larger-than-life television set.

  The world feels larger-than-life. This virus mowing people down by the droves is most certainly larger-than-life, it’s larger-than-death, it’s as if someone took the chains off of the Grim Reaper and said have at them. And that someone just so happens to be my infamous ex—Gage Oliver.

  Mom grunts as she looks to the talking heads on the screen demonstrating how to best clasp a medical mask over your face.

  “It won’t protect your eyes.” She scoffs. “Emily and I wore our snorkel masks this afternoon,” she says, carrying a Cost Club-size package of toilet paper into the room with a picture of a happy raccoon family emblazoned on the front.

  “I didn’t wear a thing,” Tad crows while staggering to the kitchen with his arms brimming with canned goods.

  Drake shakes his head at his father as he walks in behind him with a stack of three more of those industrial-size toilet paper packages.

  “And that’s why you’re the weakest link in this house, Pops.” Drake chuckles. “If you get the Kingdom Virus, we’re going to have to lock you up in the basement.”

  “Ha!” Tad balks. “We don’t have a basement.”

  “Start digging!” Ethan shouts as he comes in with about four more packages of toilet paper, and I can hardly see the top of his head.

  Logan and I exchange a quick look as he stands to his feet.

  “What’s up with all the toilet paper?” Logan takes Jaxson from me. I have a feeling his paternal instincts to protect his young are kicking in.

  Nathan and Barron run over and thrust themselves at the packages as Drake and Ethan set them down in the family room.

  “We gone”—Nathan starts before taking a breath—“we gone build a fort!”

  Drake gently pushes the boys away with his foot. “You kids steer clear. This here is the new currency. We’ve got sixteen more of these babies in the back of my truck. Come on, Ethan, we’ve got a lot of unloading to do.”

  “Sixteen?” I struggle to rise to my feet. Not because my stomach has grown all that much, but because the couch has lost all of its support from Drake and Ethan lounging on it, day in and day out. “Mom? Em?” I call out, examining them as they haul in enough industrial sized packages of TP to build the boys a mansion. “W
hat’s going on?”

  Em tosses her package to the floor. “We’ve got to be prepared. Now that the apocalypse has hit, we need to ensure each bottom in this house has more than enough to wipe with for the next seven years. If we don’t, this place is going to stink so bad it’s going to blow the roof off.”

  “This place does stink.” I shrug over to my mother. “What about food?”

  Mom shudders. “Oh, Skyla. All of the canned goods are just about wiped out.”

  Tad comes through again, this time with another stack of canned goods. “Yup. And we did the wiping!”

  “Mom, there are other people on Paragon.”

  She shakes her head my way. “You don’t know what we just went through. There was a three-hour line to get into that place and a four-hour check out. We grabbed everything we could. Thank God we each had two carts. But the store was flat out of flour and yeast. I don’t know how we’ll bake our bread.”

  “We don’t bake bread,” I say.

  Logan nods to the television, and sure enough, there’s a shot of empty grocery shelves, people lined up for miles trying to get inside despite the foul weather, and talks of shortages from toilet paper to bread.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper.

  Logan steps in close. “If the death toll keeps climbing, there won’t be a need for toilet paper or bread.”

  Mia gets up from the floor and lets out a growl of frustration.

  “It’s as if the whole world hates my wedding,” she snips. “Mom, you’d better head back to Cost Club and pick up all the food we’ll need for my reception. The bakery called and canceled my cake. They said the head baker has the virus and she’ll be too dead to bake anything for me. Can you believe this? I finally get the man of my dreams to propose, and the entire world decides it’s a good time to get the flu.”

  Logan frowns. “This is no flu. And it’s ten times as contagious. Schools, churches, they’re all shut down with the exception of any essential businesses.”

  Mia groans hard. “Please tell me the flower shop taking care of my bouquet is an essential business.”

 

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