Crown of Ashes

by Addison Moore

  “Chloe?” Her tiny dark brows furrow with worry before her entire face lights up. “Oh, yes! Uncle Logan has told me all about you!” Her mouth grows wide with surprise, but my heart tugs at the fact Uncle Logan has spent precious time with my little angel. I know which Logan she’s referring to, the one already on the other side of the great cosmic divide. The one that just so happened to land there right after Chloe chopped his head off. “You’re wicked!”

  Chloe grunts and growls before a slim smile tugs at her lips. “Why, yes. Yes, I am wicked. Your Uncle Logan is correct.” She matches her fingertips together while perfectly impersonating a villain. “You may look like your daddy, but you are your mother’s child through and through—speaking before thinking. Actions, then consideration or lack thereof.” She smacks her lips with disdain at my precious little girl. “I wouldn’t get too close. I happen to think little children taste like candy, and my appetite is churning for a treat.”

  “Chloe,” I bite her name out like a reprimand.

  “Oh, Mommy, you’re so brave!” Sage leans in toward the wicked wart taking up precious real estate on my mattress. “She’s so close to you, and to the babies! I bet she really is going to eat them. Aren’t you?” Sage’s fascination with the nefarious witch only seems to grow.

  “Yes, I am, little Sage Oliver.” Chloe’s dark, hollow eyes fixate on my precious baby girl. “I’m going to eat your mommy and your daddy, too!” Chloe wiggles her fingers at my beautiful princess, and I lift my foot to her until she relents.

  “Behave.”

  My mother belts out a bubbling laugh. “Oh, Skyla. Chloe doesn’t know the meaning of the word. But I’ll take care of the nuisance for you.” She heads over to the casement window and scrolls it open. “Where is that dingbat and his betrothed that I gifted you?”

  “Holden,” I whisper like a secret to Sage, and she wrinkles her tiny little nose as if she’s already been apprised of who he is as well. I bet my father and Logan are having a ball with her in paradise. I would. And just like that, I’m terminally jealous of the fact my father and Logan are dead. Go figure.

  “No! Not Holden, please.” Chloe gags and writhes, which can only mean my raven and his lady bird friend are quickly drawing near. Holden is essentially Chloe repellent, which is why I appreciate him so damn much. “I have to go.” Chloe claws against the walls as if she were about to fashion a brand new exit.

  “What?” my mother balks. “And miss the party?” She gives another bubbling laugh. “But you’re my daughter’s closest confidant.” Her words are cutting, dripping with sarcasm. “You’re working together now, aren’t you? We were just about to strategize her next move. Aren’t you in the least bit curious what that might be? Please, do stay.”

  A guttural groan evicts from Chloe’s throat. “Can’t breathe—so sick.” She holds a hand out to Sage who wisely backs away. Her tiny face fills with horror. Both Nathan and Barron pick up on the agitation in the room and begin to grunt and kick.

  “Chloe, you’re scaring the kids. Mother, get rid of her.”

  Chloe claws at my leg as if begging for mercy.

  Skyla, help me. Her eyes bulge as though they were about to burst from her skull.

  I glare at Chloe, doing my best to use my mental abilities to ship her back to the hell she came from, but it’s no use. Either my new powers have evaporated to nothing or my mother has a binding hedge over the girl who’s quickly turning green in my bed.

  “Dear God! She’s going to puke!” I curl up in a ball toward Sage, trying my best to protect little Barron from the inevitable splatter.

  “No puking on my watch.” My mother waves a finger over to Chloe. “Lips be sewn, nostrils for breathing.” She glares at Chloe as she writhes and gags.

  Thankfully, she’s been incapacitated from streaming her bile all over my tiny room, but just watching her muscles jump, her limbs pop in the air every other second is a thing of holy terror that I’m not interested in witnessing—nor am I interested in scarring Sage for all eternity.

  “Be gone, Chloe,” I growl while landing my hand over hers in an effort to will her the hell away from me. Chloe latches on with a death grip while I harden my gaze upon her, doing my best to send her back to the Transfer.

  Holden and his pale plus one show up at the window. His paper white bride, Serena Kragger nee Taylor, a mid-century Deorsum who got on my mother’s bad side once upon a century ago, pecks her way over.

  Chloe detaches from me with a violent jolt. Her entire body defies gravity as it rises into the air, levitating a moment before it flattens against the wall, spread eagle with her face wild with surprise.

  “Good show, Your Grace!” Sage giggles and claps. And dear God, I now have every right to be alarmed at how much interaction my celestial mother has with my child. Sage may be formally deceased, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have her best interests at heart. “Make her spin!”

  Chloe shakes her head wildly, moaning something inaudible and yet clearly a protest.

  “No,” I’m quick to object to my daughter’s twisted wishes. “She’s hurting,” I say softly to Sage while getting lost in those epic blue eyes and I’m mesmerized. God, I miss her father just as much as I miss her. “We shouldn’t want to see people hurt.”

  Gage is hurting. I’m hurting, too.

  “Mother—I’ve put in a request.” Sage’s tiny features squint with confusion. “Your Grace”—she spits it out curt, her features hardening to a staunch look of irritation—“I said make her spin.” Sage never takes her eyes off me, and there’s something in them that lets me know I’ve disappointed her on some level—and pissed her the hell off, too.

  My mother scoffs as she steps in close and pets Sage as if she were her favorite kitten. “My dear, I can’t deny you anything, now can I?” She solidifies a vengeful look to Chloe. “Spin, my little darling plaything. Spin like a top and fly far, far away.”

  Chloe moves clockwise, slow at first then building with speed, ratcheting up with velocity until her hair, her elongated limbs are nothing but a blur. Chloe Bishop emits a horrible howl, the groaning of an injured animal, as she turns into a dark rainbow that looks almost hollow as if you can stick your hand right through her. Then slowly, painfully slowly, Chloe and the wheel of misfortune she’s become evaporates to nothing. As soon as the last molecule blinks out of the room, I hear the sound of her violent puking all the way from the Transfer.

  “Nice show!” Sage jumps up while showering my mother with praise and joy.

  “Not a nice show.” I’m careful to reprimand as I pull Sage over with my free hand. Her flesh is so butter soft I want to kiss it. “Come sit with me.” I hoist her up until she’s nestled on the bed. I’m half-tempted to text Gage and tell him to get the hell over here, but I’m all out of hands at the moment and a bit flustered from the show I’ve just witnessed. “It’s never a nice thing to make someone else feel bad.” I try to say it as lovingly as possible. The last thing on earth I want is for my mother to turn my sweet baby girl into an asshole.

  “But, Mommy”—Sage’s eyes pull down as if she might cry—“Chloe is wicked. Your Grace says you must never trust the wicked. They don’t have pure intentions toward you. As soon as you turn around, they’ll have your head on the chopping block!”

  “God, that’s so Chloe.” I close my eyes a moment.

  “Your Grace?” Sage looks to my mother as if she were her universe. “What is an asshole?” Oh shit. Sage says asshole so slowly and purely it makes even that putrid word sound wholesome.

  “Skyla!” my mother roars so loud both Holden and his bride enter into a flapping spree that sends black and white feathers floating to the ceiling. “You realize she can hear you when you’re touching. You do remember the rules of the game, don’t you?”

  “I do now.” I shrink in horror at the thought. Of course, she can hear me. She’s my daughter. “She’s one of us. She’s a Celestra.” Tears come, and I can hardly blink them away. “My people are so
heavily outnumbered, and she could have been here. Why did you take her, Mother?”

  “Because she’s not the one.”

  “The one?” It doesn’t take long for me to do the Logan Oliver math. “Then take away her powers. Give her back to me, fully human.”

  “No!” Sage’s little face contours with horror as she leaps from the bed. “Oh, please, Your Grace, don’t listen to her. She’s demented! Her mind is all twisted up in knots because my bratty little brothers won’t give her a wink of sleep. Can’t you see? That’s why she’s cavorting with the wicked one! Oh, please, Your Grace, I’ll be anything but human. Make me a cat or a rat! But I can’t live without my powers!” She scowls over at me with venom in her beautiful little eyes, and I’m more than slightly alarmed.

  My eyes widen with a slight horror of my own. “But, Sage, if you give them up, you’ll be able to live with your brothers.” Who are not even remotely close to bratty, unlike some people, I want to add but don’t. “You’ll grow up together. And think of all the fun you’ll have with Mommy—we can paint our nails and bake cookies! I’ll teach you the ins and outs of the Factions, and you can even head up the meetings one day.” I’m pleading through tears, both my voice and lips quivering.

  “Your Grace,” her tone is tight and angry, “I bid you to take me away from this woman right this minute. She wants to steal my powers, and I’m frightened!”

  “Not true.” I shake my head manically, trying to calm her down.

  My mother frowns at the incessant plea, and truthfully, it’s my only relief in this panic Sage has incited in me. “I can’t leave yet. My business is unfinished.”

  But Sage tries to bolt from the room anyway.

  “No, Sage, don’t go.” I tighten my grip over her hand, but she wiggles free and makes her way to my mother. “Please, I won’t say that again. Just stay.” Barron lets out a sharp cry, and I rock him urgently, trying to get him to settle. I don’t think Sage can handle an ounce more of agitation.

  “I’m leaving now, Skyla, and I won’t be back,” Sage seethes, those stormy eyes of hers as unknowable as the ocean. “Let this be a lesson to you. Never threaten me again.” Her voice spikes with anger before she turns to my mother. “If you’re unable to take me, I’ll leave on my own!”

  “And travel through the heavens all by your lonesome?” Mother frowns at her mini me. “Angels have been deposed by wrestling with dark powers. I’d shudder to think what they might do to you, my love.”

  What in the hell? Aren’t dead people supposed to be safe?

  “Fine!” Sage’s anger surges as her face screws up into a tight knot of anger. “Have Grandpa pick me up. Or send Uncle Logan. They’ll both do anything for me!” Her tiny eyes squint with a newfound rage. “I’m leaving now, regardless of what you say—and neither of you can stop me.” She stomps her feet, and I shake my head in dismay at my mother because honestly? This is what happens when you let a child spend copious amounts of time with her.

  My mother lifts a hand, and a powerful light bursts into the room. Standing beside her, fully formed, is my father and my open-mouthed surprise quickly transforms into a smile.

  “Daddy!” I sob out his name, so very tired of everything in this world. I’m ready for his embrace. I thirst for it like water.

  “Skyla.” He leans in and kisses both Barron and me before scooping Nathan from my mother’s arms. “I love you all. Don’t you ever forget that,” he says it directly into his namesake’s eyes.

  “Put that thing down, Grandpa!” Sage commands. “You’re to take me home at once. I’m not welcome here.” She cuts me a lethal look with that last sentence. “That mean person wants to take away my powers, and she’s called me a very bad word.”

  “Skyla?” My father looks befuddled as my mother extracts the baby from his arms.

  “You may not speak with her!” Sage barks. “We’re leaving now.”

  “I love you so much.” The words strangle from my throat as I look to my irate little daughter. My beautiful dark angel with those sapphire eyes and dimpled cheeks. I love her so much my bones ache right down to my miserable soul.

  She jumps up into my father’s arms and gives his chest a hard shove. “I said now, Grandpa! Don’t you pay attention to her! You may not choose her over me.” And just like that, they’re reduced to a quivering shadow before the room clears up once again.

  “Goodbye!” I shout into the nothingness they’ve left behind, and it feels as if they’ve taken my heart right along with them. “Never in a million years would I have wanted to upset her.” My chest heaves with a dry sob at the thought.

  “Well, now—it didn’t take you a million years, did it?” Candace takes a seat at the edge of the bed with that I-knew-it smug look on her face—my face as it were.

  “You’re raising her to be just like you.” I pin her with a look to alert her to the fact this is not necessarily a good thing—because everyone in the universe can attest to the fact it’s a piss-poor idea.

  “Then I’m raising her right.” She indulges in a prideful smile. “I just love seeing that flame of independence flicker alive in her. You really should have named her Feisty.”

  “Feisty?” It comes out with defeat because whether or not I gifted her that name—or cursed her with it, take your pick—it doesn’t make a difference. That’s exactly what she is. “You said she wasn’t the one. What makes you so sure I’m having a child with Logan? It’s Celestra’s spring. I’m yawning awake to my own rebellion. I promise you I can be just as feisty as the next girl.”

  “Come now, you can’t manipulate me into handing her back.” She lays Nathan over my chest and sighs dreamily into him. “And as much as I admire the loving care and devotion you’ve given these two, I think it’s time to meet with the Factions. You have very serious business to take care of, my dear.”

  “You’re right. I’ve yet to oversee the Factions or the Retribution League properly. And don’t even get me started on that government bullshit that Wesley is pulling. But I’m still nursing.” Nathan begins to root around my chest as he searches for food, and I give it to him. “Case in point.” He latches on, and I suck in a breath. That needle in the nipple sensation still gets me each time they get started.

  “And you’re still able to speak with me. Case in point.” She forces a quick smile to come and go. “You can and will do both.”

  “There isn’t any real business to conduct. Besides, the island is crawling with feds. I’m sure they have the Haver estate on lockdown. The government wants answers. They’re going door-to-door. There’s a rumor going around that they’re giving out cash and gift incentives. I hate the thought of being ratted out because someone desperately wanted a twenty-five-dollar gift card to the Burger Shack.”

  “Would anyone you know do such a thing?” She’s egging me on. I can tell by the tone in her voice that she’s leading me down a fiery stepfather-ish path.

  “Tad.”

  “Only Tad?”

  “Okay, fine. Half the island would sell me out for a free burger.” My chest bucks at the thought, and both boys bounce over me, inciting one of them to offer up a husky giggle.

  “Then we need to stay ahead of the curve. You and your people will be ratted out as you so eloquently put it. What do you propose we do?”

  “You have the solution mother. Spit it out.” I’m not in the mood for her head games. My heart is still aching from that bizarre quasi-argument I had with Sage.

  “No, Skyla. If I recall, it is your springtime. Knowledge is your sharpest weapon. I suggest you arm yourself with it. You are the rebel. I suggest you put on your rebellious thinking cap.” She picks up my hand, and the stone on my throne ring electrifies a brilliant shade of cobalt—the exact representation of my husband’s eyes, and I sigh dreamily to myself for a moment. “Who are they going to bring in for questioning?”

  “Forget questioning. That would be merciful compared to what they have planned for my people. They’ll cage us up if they
feel we’re a big enough threat—and we are most definitely a big enough threat.”

  “Cage those precious babes in your arms?” Her voice drips with concern, but there’s something unrelenting in her eyes I can’t quite determine. “Really, Skyla? Would a good mother like you ever let that happen?”

  “Hell no—pardon my French. I’d offer up just about anyone else before I let them lay one finger on my children—on my people for that matter. But I’m not Wesley. I’m not about to ask which of my people are willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. Besides, once they capture a single one of us, they’ll want every last Nephilim contained. There just isn’t an easy way out.”

  “No, there isn’t, is there?” She bops Holden over his feathered head, and he lets out a screeching yelp.

  “Mother.” I lift my foot with an empty threat. “You can’t be cruel to small animals. God forbid Sage ask you to make some poor creature spin until they vomit their guts up. That wasn’t appropriate by the way.” Not that I’m necessarily defending Chloe. No, some might argue she deserves far worse, but Sage should never want to see a person suffer.

  “Sage isn’t here, Skyla. You are.” She bops poor, poor Holden over the head again, this time far more pronounced, and he hops the hell away from her. Can’t say I blame him.

  “Wait a minute…” I scoot up a bit and draw the boys close to me. “You’re not intentionally being cruel to Holden.” I think on this for a minute. “You’re telling me something.” My gaze shifts from one bird to the next. “Holden and Serena. You think I should use these two as a diversion.” I can’t take my eyes off the fidgeting creatures. If I had to guess, I’d say they’ll be the next to vomit. “You think they can provide a solution. The feds are looking to put us in cages. Birds belong in cages…”

  She gives a quick shake of the head. “Think harder, Skyla. Think outside of the cage. This is your springtime.” She doesn’t bother to hide her sarcasm anymore. I get it. I’ve inadvertently pissed her off with my promise not to listen to her advice.