“It feels as if the island is giving us the middle finger.”
“I’ll say.”
The minivan curves into the driveway, but my head remains craned to that desolate sight. “I hope Ellis’ craptastic idea pays off for Logan.”
“It paid off for us.” He gives a shit-eating grin as he kills the engine. “Come on, the boys are asleep. I want to carry you over the threshold. This is a big deal. A week-long vacay from Tad is like Christmas and my birthday rolled into one.”
“Oh, come on. You know you’re going to miss the hell out of him.” I give a little wink and run up the porch laughing.
Gage flips a baseball cap over his head and opens the side door of the minivan closest to where we can keep an eagle eye on the boys.
I waste no time in doing a little happy dance at our prospective—albeit short-lived freedom.
Gage pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of me at the door. “Wait, I want to get a video of this for posterity.” I give a brisk wave to the camera and flash my brightest smile.
One day when I’m old and gray I want to look back at how happy it made me to know I’d be doing a little horizontal dance with my handsome hubby in just a few short minutes.
“Come here.” I wave him over in haste.
“Let me set this thing down.” He trots his phone over to the railing and rests it against the post.
“You ready to do this?” Gage strides my way with that come hither look in his eyes, and I’m ready and willing to do just about anything with him right about now.
“Yes!” I hop up and down, hardly able to control my Landon-free enthusiasm.
Gage turns the knob, and the door flies open. Then in one fell swoop he picks me up and spins me with a kiss. “To our first official home on Paragon.”
“Only home,” I tease as I pull him in by the bill of his hat. I’m not ready to call the old Walsh house ours just yet. “Gimme a forever kiss,” I say, batting my lashes, doing my best to seduce him. The last thing I want to talk about is real estate, this home or any other. I just want this to be about us.
Just as he’s about to carry me past that threshold, a horrible sinking feeling settles in. Something about this feels all too familiar. I’ve been here before—been here, done this—said those very words.
“Turn that off.” My head cranes to the camera in horror, and I leap out of his arms like a gymnast. My heart wrenches with agony as I fumble with the phone, struggling to shut the damn thing off.
“What’s going on?” Gage appears at my side, his arms secured to my shoulders as if he needed to hold me down to earth, and he might.
“Demetri.” A silent cry bucks through me at the thought of how much pain we just invoked in Logan. “Summer before senior year, Logan’s birthday—we were at Demetri’s—in that damned theater.” I shake my head, still dismayed by the memory. “Demetri used that footage we just shot to torment Logan. It was just Demetri being an asshole.” My heart wallops hard because I have a feeling it was so much more than that. Why choose this moment to torment Logan? Was Demetri sending Logan a heartbreaking message? Or was it meant for me? I glance back to the boys still sound asleep in their car seats.
“So this was the vision.” Gage takes a step back and glares at Whitehorse as if it were the house’s fault. “Me here at the house that Logan built.”
“Trust me, you’re the last person Demetri was messing with.”
“Or am I.” He gives a depleted frown at the doorframe that holds the banner of Logan’s love for me. “We never made it through the threshold.” He shakes his head at that gaping doorway. “He’s speaking to me, Skyla.”
I join him in staring blankly at the dark hole of the house. “What do you think he’s saying?” I whisper, afraid to ask—praying that perhaps he didn’t hear me.
Gage wraps his arms around me from behind and rests his head on my shoulder, our gaze still fixed on the porch. “He’s about to interrupt us. That’s what it means, Skyla. He was just showing off for you and Logan. It’s me he’s about to stab in the heart.”
The two of us stand there for who knows how long, staring at the opened door as if it led to a black hole. I don’t doubt for a moment that it does. But I’ll be damned if I let Demetri steal another thing from the two of us.
“He doesn’t own us.” I spin into my gorgeous husband’s arms and lock my wrists around his neck. “And he will never shape our destinies.”
He lets out a quiet sigh and closes his eyes briefly. “You’re right. This is our springtime.”
“The time of our rebellion.”
His lips rise at the tips. “No rules.”
“Just you and me, together forever.” I hike up on my heels, and Gage and I share a heartfelt kiss, his tongue probing me as if the answers to life were hiding right there in my mouth. Then just like that, he scoops me up and races me across the threshold, and we laugh, right there—in the face of Demetri Edinger.
We collect the boys and carefully bring them up to the master bedroom with us. Gage faces them toward the wall and covers them both, still snug in their carriers.
The bed is turned down on one end, revealing crisp sheets that feel as if they have never been slept in. I wondered how I would feel in this room, in this bed realizing that Logan would know we defiled it. But deep down, I don’t think Logan sees it that way. Deep down, I don’t either. This is a room. This is a bed. And starting right now, it belongs to Gage and me.
Gage comes at me with that devilish grin, taking off his shirt as he makes his way over. The breadth and width of his muscular frame, his wingspan with those well-defined lats, those abs as hard as granite.
“Gage Oliver.” I have to catch my breath. My God, he truly is a stunning specimen. “Are you threatening me with your body?”
“Hell yes, I am.” He lands me on the bed as a steady stream of giggles bounce through my throat. “And I’m going to punish you with it, too.” He ravishes me with heated kisses up and down my neck, and I struggle to keep from exploding with laughter.
Gage takes my clothes off. He washes me from head to toe with his tongue, penetrates me with all of his love.
Gage could never punish me with his body.
It is always a pleasure.
The third day of our second honeymoon, I take the boys to Marshall’s while Gage takes off for finals back at Host. The island basks in its monochromatic glory despite the fact summer is nipping at our heels. Both Barron and Nathan are fast asleep, so I schlep them into the living room one by one.
“You know, you could have helped.” I take a moment to frown at my favorite Sector.
“I adore observing you in the throes of motherhood.” The words strum from him with absolute boredom. “It suits you. Have you thought of more children?”
“Ha!” I laugh in his face, and both boys flinch, so I lead us over to the piano. “Are you kidding? I can hardly handle two. I miss sleeping. I miss my old jeans. Heck, I miss my old boobs.” I pluck at my blouse, and his brows rise with approval.
“What brings you and your”—his eyes sink to my chest—“new, voluptuous, beautiful, nurturing—”
“I get it.” I take a seat on the sofa and Marshall is quick to land next to me with his arm draped over my shoulders, and a wild fit of vibrations strums from his body to mine. The haunted speculum in the corner winks in the light. “Chloe is meeting me here. I’ve summoned her.”
“Summoned, have you?” An obnoxious grin spreads like wildfire over his face.
“Okay, so she summoned me. But nevertheless, we’ve business to tend to.”
That gorgeous face of his reconfigures into a perfect scowl, and he looks that much more comely. It’s shocking the women of Paragon aren’t beating down his door, not in the same disturbing frequency they used to anyway.
“Skyla, you know that I wish you well in this new war you’ve embroiled yourself in. May your sharp arrows pierce the hearts of your enemies. Let their nations fall beneath your feet.”
&nb
sp; A heart-stoppingly beautiful moment pulses between us. “That was a gorgeous benediction. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And—speaking of having business to tend to with the aforementioned beast.” I curl my finger under his chin as if I were trying to seduce him, when in fact we’re both fully aware I’m about to do my best to seduce a little info out of him. “When will you pay back my darling new pet for stealing that bed warmer from Ezrina? I believe you promised retribution.” Honest to God, some of the most horrific things that have happened to me were a direct result of me showing off my five-finger discount skills when it comes to the Sextor’s secret things. Having my arm chopped off, that entire fiasco at winter camp a few years back where Kate lost her head—yup, all nefarious arrows point right back to Marshall’s draconian punishment tactics. But why should I reap all the horrific benefits? Surely, Chloe of all people could use a hatchet or two hurled her way. Just the mention of a hatchet makes me miss old-school Ezrina.
His brows dip as he frowns. “I’ve already begun the wheels of punishment brewing for Ms. Bishop. Worry you not about my retribution. I’m afraid you’ve enough on your own plate as far as raining down the comeuppance on the parties that have wronged you and your people.”
“Touché to that. You know”—I tap his shoe with my own—“you’re the only one who hasn’t asked me what I’m doing with her.” My heart lets out a few wild wallops because clearly this alarms me on some level.
“There are some things, Ms. Messenger, that I do not wish to be apprised of.”
“Nice. I wish there were more people like you in my world. Because I loathe the day I need to cough up my confession to Logan and Gage. It’s ridiculous the way they have me on a leash.”
“You don’t believe that, and neither do I.”
“No, but it sounded good.” I think about it for a moment. “They used to, but something’s happened. Ever since Gage has sacrificed his destiny for the boys, it’s as if nothing has really been the same. Logan, Gage, and I have always been a team.”
“Quite an erotic team,” he adds without a single dash of humor.
“Yes, well, you can get off your high horse because you’re a member.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He glides his finger over my cheek. “I am not a member alongside Jock Strap or the Pretty One. I’m in a league of my own. Lest, you forget our spiritual bond—our covenant with one another that transcends flesh and blood.” He traces the outline of my lips, and my body indulges in a mean quiver. Damn hormones. “Our love is unique, special, and true. I left the heavenlies for you—retained the proper permits to dwell among humans and Nephilim alike.”
“Permits, huh? I sound like a construction project you’ve undertook.” My thighs rush with pleasure as if they too were about to take on a project of their own—Operation Climax. It’s never safe to sit this close to Marshall.
His cheeks depress into rarely seen dimples. “I treaded the weary halls of West Paragon High for you.” He’s too busy itemizing his horrific sacrifices to offer up a proper comeback to my architectural humor.
“Now that you mention it, I’ve always wondered why you chose a position of authority rather than being my contemporary, like say Logan or Gage.”
Marshall groans at the mention of their names. “Although I consider myself your contemporary, your rival, your fully equipped lover—I don’t consider myself theirs. Casting myself from the heavenlies was a supreme sacrifice all on its own, but to demote myself to a teenager was more than I could bear.”
“Fully equipped lover, huh?”
A growl emits from him, low and husky. “I can demonstrate if you like.”
The doorbell rings in triplicate, followed by hasty knocking that jars the boys to life with a startled cry.
“I’d say I was saved by the bell, but I think we both know who that is.”
Chloe bursts in just as both Nathan and Barron scream as if their hair was on fire, and I unbuckle and scoop them up one by one.
“Oh no!” I pepper their sweet, rather irate faces with kisses. “Please be good for Uncle Marshall.”
“Pardon?” He turns abruptly from the powwow he was having with Chloe.
“Well, you can’t expect me to take them along.”
Chloe enters the living room with a bounce in her step. “Where we off to? Let me guess, the Gas Lab? The mall?” She sticks her finger down her throat and pretends to gag.
“Tenebrous,” I say and Barron wails so sharp and loud you’d think he understood me. Of course, Barron’s high-pitched wailing gets Nathan’s feathers ruffled, and now it’s a soprano choir in here.
“Good Lord, can’t you control the little monsters?” Chloe growls at the boys. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve had enough of their competitive crying. Tenebrous sounds like heaven compared to this whiny baby hell you’ve leashed yourself to.”
“Tenebrous?” Marshall grunts as if he’s the next one to throw a fit.
“Yes. Chloe and I need privacy. It’s the best solution. Besides, who knows how many spies Wesley has swarming the island. They’re everywhere. You can’t escape them.” It’s true. You can’t go three feet on Paragon without having a fed trying to pose as a tourist. They’re everywhere, expanding over the island like bread mold.
“Skyla.” Marshall ticks his head to Wesley’s betrothed.
“Not this spy. She belongs to me.” I give Chloe a quick wink while handing the noisy boys over to Marshall, and no sooner do they land in his arms than they both let out a hearty sigh. Marshall jostles them a bit, and they share a laugh in turn, warming me to the marrow.
“God, they have the best laugh.” I kiss them both on the cheek before hiking up on my tiptoes and offering one up to Marshall, too. He turns just enough for me to land smack on his lips. “I’d say I owe you one, but I think I just gave it.”
“You do owe me one.” Marshall glares at the two of us as we head out the door. “And I’ll be cashing in sooner than you think.”
“Anything you want! It’s yours!”
Chloe grunts as I lead her out to the woods. “Ten bucks says he’ll demand a blowjob. He’ll be balls deep before evening.”
“You wish.”
“I do wish. Wesley hasn’t touched me in months. I’m like a virgin all over again.”
“Lovely.” I take up her hand as we enter the thicket behind Marshall’s home and step into a fog so dense you can take a bite out of it. “Control your hormones for five seconds and think Tenebrous.”
“Nice of you to take me to hell.”
“Well, if I’ve heard you say it once, I’ve heard you say it a thousand times—there’s no place like home.”
There was a time when Tenebrous was abhorrent, a thing of horror, a hell whose best hope was a blaze that ravished every last inch of it. But the tunnels closed, the Celestra who were once imprisoned here are now free or had long since died along with their dreams. Then in a twist that only life could provide, I requested it from Demetri as a wedding gift. Yes. I acquired an entire plane of existence for the mere price of marrying his son. Gage was baffled as were most of those who discovered the fact, but Logan and I knew that if our Retribution League were to thrive, it needed a prison of its own. And that’s exactly what this is—was. A year ago, it was filled with Videns who had voluntarily become a thing of horror themselves—Spectators, the lore of which zombies come from. Yes, there was a time when the Tenebrous Woods were frightful, the stench of blood so pungent your palate was stained with a metallic taste for days upon leaving. In these very woods is where Wesley suckled off my neck, drank my blood like nectar to bolster his powers far beyond that which his Countenance lineage afforded him—before Demetri knighted him a Fem. It seems that over the past few years, identities have swapped out, alliances shifted, the landscape of the Factions is almost entirely unrecognizable. But Tenebrous remains unchanged, dank, dark, sallow with its charred evergreens, its deep velvet sky, the parched ground that
thirsts for so much more than blood. And now it is mine.
Chloe and I land flat-footed among the thistles and briars, the slight stench of blood still rotting the air. The ground is dried and cracked, a desert terrain within this necrotic forest. Dark, twisted oaks, gnarled and burnt. The evergreens are dusted with soot, all of their vivacious color reduced to a somber shade of gray. There is no sun, no moon—not on this day, nothing but a strange darkness, that eerie glow just before night falls hard over the land. This world glows with plums and wines, even the light pays homage to the blood once shed on these grounds. The overgrown building behind us that once housed our Nephilim brothers and sisters now sits empty, collecting dust until the Viden Spectators can be detained once again. Wesley didn’t mind putting them in danger as long as they were outing the Nephilim people. As far as I see it, Wesley is the only one who should be imprisoned down here—I glare at the demon to my left—and perhaps Chloe, too.
I head over to one of the old hitching posts and find Ingram’s glowing notepad. Ingram Pendergast was left to plod around down here centuries ago—by the Counts, by my mother, the details all seem fuzzy and unimportant at the moment. He’s sort of the official keeper of the Tenebrous gate. He was Ezrina’s ex in another life, another time before he was brought here to be a keeper of the tunnels. He’s still lurking around the grounds somewhere, living it up in no-man’s-land. Nevertheless, I scoop up the glowing notebook as we head out of the forest.
“Let’s sit.” I point to the stone of sacrifice just past the skeletal woods. The stone shines like a lavender pearl in this strange universe, and I get straight to business of itemizing my covenant with Chloe on the glowing device. I take a moment to erect a shield over my thoughts—impenetrable to Chloe and any powers she might still be wielding.
“Finally.” Chloe lands next to me, her knee touching mine. There is a fire in her eyes, one that holds equal parts hope and vengeance. “I want the covenant initiated today. No more of this pussyfooting around.” A wry smile comes and goes. Sometimes you just need to cut a deal with the devil, and today is as good as any. “Bree told me all about your mother’s twisted venture. Who knew I had so much pull with her?” She examines her fingernails, but judging by that maniacal look on her face, I know she’s contemplating a Lizbeth Landon takedown just for the hell of it.
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