Crown of Ashes

by Addison Moore

  “I’m going to talk to the smartest girl I know.”

  “Mom?”

  I make a face at my sister without meaning to. “Laken Stewart—Flanders.” She chose Coop over Wes. That might just qualify her as the smartest person on the planet—although, technically, that was a no-brainer.

  Mia gives the two of us a quick kiss before walking backward toward the house. “Don’t you dare give her away. I licked her. She’s mine! I swear to you, I’ll keep her!” She giggles as she runs off. But I stagger forward, numb with shock, as I hold fast to baby number three—or four as it were.

  I text Laken, and she texts right back that she’s at the Gas Lab, so I teleport right over. Only I’m low on juice, correction, permanently running out of fuel, and I make it as far as West and hoof it the rest of the way with my new babe tucked safe in my arms.

  After a long, exhausting jaunt, I finally hit the Gas Lab, winded, stunned by how a baby can feel like a one hundred pound lead weight. And it only reminds me that in a few short months I won’t be able to hold both of the boys the way I do now. The boys! My God, they have a sister—at least one on earth at the moment. My heart ratchets up in a panic, and suddenly the fact I entered into a binding covenant with Chloe Bishop is the least startling event that’s taken place this afternoon.

  Just as I’m about to step inside, a surly looking dude in a heavy wool coat glares at me as if I’ve just stolen his lunch money, and I instinctively hold the baby a little bit tighter.

  “I know you.” He steps in, and I take a full step back. “You’re what’s-his-face’s wife.” His voice rises a notch. “You tell that idiot husband of yours the Videns have one serious fucking bone to pick with him.” He grimaces at the baby a moment. “Never mind. I’ll tell him myself.” He stalks off, and I let out a breath of relief, filling the air with a stiff white plume, and the baby flaps her arms as though she was happy as can be.

  “That mean man just threatened your daddy—um, uncle.” My heart breaks just thinking about the title my husband would play in her life.

  I walk in and spot Laken near the back, and I make a beeline over only to see Coop sitting there along with—

  “Logan,” I hiss his name under my breath, and he stands to greet me along with Laken and Coop.

  “Skyla.” He grins at the bouncing baby in my arms who’s suddenly flapping her arms as if she’s about to morph into a dove and fly right into her daddy’s arms. “It looks like you grabbed the wrong baby.” He holds a finger out and she curls her tiny hand around it, and I melt on cue. Logan’s eyes widen as he takes her in. I can see her wrapping herself around his heart just as easily as she did his finger. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever had my breath taken away by anyone but you. Who is this amazing beauty?” His voice is low and tender, the exact tone fathers reserve for the daughters they adore.

  “Da Da!” She stretches her arms for him, and I shoot a panicked look to Laken.

  Laken steps in, her own eyes just as wide. “Wow. She’s so pretty!”

  Coop wraps his finger around one of her blonde curls a moment. “Did she just say Da Da as in Daddy?”

  “Um.” I look to Logan and shrug. “I guess she did.”

  “You did?” Logan leans in and presses a quiet laugh through that magnificent grin of his, but he never breaks his gaze from the girl. “Who’s your daddy? Huh? Who’s your daddy?”

  A breath hitches in my throat. “You are.”

  Why waste a moment of fun under the nonexistent Paragon sun?

  All three pairs of eyes lock over mine.

  “What did you say?” Logan’s face piques with color as if he understood perfectly.

  “My mother sort of dropped her off.” I’m quick to point to the ceiling in the event there was any confusion about which mother would do such a thing. “Leave it to her to take away the element of surprise.” My shoulders bounce once again. “Surprise! You have a girl. We have a girl.”

  “You have a daughter?” Laken gasps because, let’s face it, things couldn’t get any more gasp-worthy.

  Coop leans into my line of vision. “With Logan?”

  “Well—” Honestly, I’m at a loss for words. The baby struggles to reach Logan’s neck so I carefully place her in her father’s arms.

  “Oh God,” he whispers as he takes her from me, stiff at first before he molds his body to hers. His eyes close, and he lands a loving kiss over the top of her head and lingers. “I love you,” he whispers. And those, right there, are the sweetest words Logan Oliver says to his precious little girl in this, the hour of their meeting. It’s all moving so fast, at such dizzying speeds, and yet I demand to record every sweet moment in my memory, etching this portrait of the two of them over my heart like the treasure it is.

  “Skyla”—Laken shakes her head—“how? Why? How long? What will happen next?”

  “I was sort of hoping you’d have those answers for me. That’s exactly why I hunted you down.”

  “Skyla?” the high-pitched, happy-to-see-me voice of my mother bellows from behind, and I freeze. Not the heavenly body that birthed me, but the far more practical earthly body that reared me.

  I turn slowly, only to find she’s already diving past me and playing with the baby’s chubby little feet.

  “Oh my God! What a beautiful baby! Look at this face! Why, that’s the face of an angel.”

  Tad pops up and grunts at the sight. “Don’t tell me she’s added another one to the collection. See this, Lizbeth? She’s scooping up strays off the street just like I predicted. Well, too bad. There’s no room at the inn. Load up her diaper bag and send the kid packing. We’re at capacity with rug runts.”

  Mom swats him over the shoulder. “Oh, wow. Those eyes! They’re so pale with a blue heart with little freckles in them—and so light and clear, and they’re a sweet water blue. Why, they’re tourmaline. But that face! I’ve never seen anything like her. No offense to Misty or Ember, but this one looks like an angel that fell right out of heaven. What’s her name?” She looks to Logan as do the rest of us.

  “Name?” He ticks his head my way before stealing a kiss off her cheek, and I melt all over again. This right here is a moment the two of us should be having in private, not at the Gas Lab—for sure not in front of my gawking baby hungry mother.

  “Oh, I just have to hold her.” She’s quick to pry her from Logan’s arms. “My sweet Lord! You are just too precious to live! You must really be heaven-sent.”

  The baby giggles up a storm, her voice light and sweet with a trace of the boys’ husky nature, and my heart wrenches because, well, she really was heaven-sent.

  “Her name?” Mom nods as if ushering along the conversation.

  “Actually—” I’m pretty sure child services will intervene if I don’t come up with a good explanation. I turn slightly and note a man at the counter openly staring in this direction. He’s got a pair of dark sunglasses sitting on the top of his head, and he’s wearing the requisite pressed buttoned-down shirt. Crap. I’ll be damned if he’s taking my baby back to D.C. to poke and prod her with needles. “She’s Laken’s niece. Her name is Angel.” I grimace at my friend who’s suddenly at a loss for words.

  “Right.” She shrugs. “Only my sister Jen is out of town, and well, Skyla and Logan said they’d help me watch her.” Her dark brows point down into a hard V, letting me know she’s more than unhappy to be dragged into this.

  “Angel.” My mother bounces the happy little babe in her arms. “It sure is fitting. If you ever need a sitter, I’d be thrilled to lend a helping hand.”

  “That would be great.” Laken nods, scooping up her bag while Tad scoffs himself into an early grave. “Because I just so happen to be on my way to my last final.” She offers me a quick hug. “God help you, Skyla, because I sure can’t,” she whispers, pulling back. “I’ll call you.”

  “Great.” I wave as she and a hesitant Coop head for the door.

  Tad squawks like a bird who just had its beak chopped off. “See th
at? They just stuck you with the kid! Dump the little river rat, Lizbeth, before these two take off as well!”

  Logan reaches over and takes our little angel back into his arms. “That won’t happen on my watch.”

  “Oh”—Mom clasps onto my wrist—“just so you know, we’ll be back in the house tonight. It’s all wrapped up. Not a living thing survived. I was assured those pumps released enough toxins to destroy the nervous system of every living creature within those walls. Feel free to come home tonight with the boys. Demetri sent a crew to wash every bit of clothing and bedding. Can you imagine? He’s instructed them to scrub the carpets and dry clean the drapes. He’s such a gentleman.”

  “That’s because he’s relatively sane and understands the fact that nerve gas and infants don’t mesh well together. I’ll be at Whitehorse at least another night.” Or twelve.

  The baby bounces against Logan’s chest, her beautiful eyes still latched onto my mother’s. “Mee-Maw!”

  “Oh my God!” Mom staggers backward as if someone just pumped a bullet into her chest. “It’s like she knows who I am!”

  “That’s it.” Tad yanks my mother clear across the restaurant until they come upon an empty table. “No job and no home equals no more stealing other people’s babies!”

  Mom turns around and mouths, “I love her!”

  “Great.” I lean against Logan, and the baby tries her best to rip my lips right off my face. Her happy limbs all twitch with glee at once. She’s so happy it’s infectious, and I can’t help but smile. “I’m sorry, Logan.”

  “For what?” He runs his finger over the outline of her perfect features. “You’ve just made me the happiest man on the planet. This is the best day of my new life.”

  “Great.” I whimper once again. “I’ve got a car seat you can borrow back at the house, and Emma is all set up to take on a baby or two. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

  “Skyla”—he ticks his head back a notch, inspecting me—“you wouldn’t leave her.”

  Just like that, all of the anxiety, the nervous energy that’s been storming inside me up and disappears. “No. I’m afraid I can’t.”

  His eyes meet with mine, and he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “Emma just invited me to dinner. She says the boys are there, and Gage is already on his way. We’ll tell them together.” He pulls me in, and the baby squirms with delight, cooing and laughing, shouting Ma Ma, Da Da over and over again as if it were her favorite song. Here we are a family. We’ve always been one. “Are we really going to call her Angel?”

  “I think we should for now.” I bounce my finger over her tiny perfect nose, and she takes it by force into her mouth and begins to suckle off it. She’s hungry, and I can feel my breasts swelling to have her. Tears come as I try to contain my emotions. She’s so perfect, so beautiful, so in the wrong frame of time it makes both my head and my heart want to explode. “Maybe one day”—my voice breaks—“if…” But I can’t finish the sentence. For me to have a baby with Logan would be treason to my marriage with Gage, and I’m fighting tooth and nail to keep him. I know my mother. She’s fighting tooth and nail for me to lose him. As much as I want to call what she’s done a despicable act, I can’t find it in me to do so. This is one of her greatest gifts to me. “Maybe we can bypass all of those laws of biology and just keep her?” My hearts soars at the prospect.

  A crackle of lightning goes off outside, and the lights dim enough for the patrons to let out an unsettled ooh before life resumes as normal. Only for Logan and me—Gage, too—normal is something we will most likely never experience.

  Emma answers the door winded as if she were the one with earth-shattering news, and I can’t help but scowl at her a little. She is trouble. Kate said so herself—although, Kate seems hesitant to extrapolate on the idea. She did mention something about holding off until it was her time to go and then she would spill the troublesome beans. Just what kind of a witch is Emma that she should sponsor so much fear in Kate?

  Her eyes grow wild as she examines Logan and me, baby Angel tucked in my arms and happily drooling over my shoulder. Logan and I drove to Devil’s Peak. He happened to have two sets of car seats strapped into the back of the Mustang in the event he needed to pick up the twins. Demetri gifted us so many sets of those luxury baby confinement units I peppered everyone’s car with the devices that I could. And, of course, Angel snuggled up in one like an old pro. We watched the waves breaking out in the distance, gray and lonely, as if they were hungry for the shoreline they could only dream of reaching. It was that way for Logan and me right up until this afternoon when my mother brought the cutest little shoreline to us instead. We didn’t say anything at Devil’s Peak. Logan and I just stared out into the world as if we were aliens thrust on a foreign planet. There’s just too much to wade through at the moment. I don’t think if a thousand years went by that we could process it all.

  “It looks as if you’ve brought a guest.” Emma bounces on her heels, her eyes slit with suspicion. “I’d set another plate at the table, but she looks a bit young to nosh on prime rib. Come in. She’ll catch her death out there. My God, she’s not even wearing a sweater. Her bare arms must be freezing!” And just like that, I feel like the world’s worst mother.

  I glance to Logan as we make our way inside. Technically, to catch your death you’d have to be born.

  “Ellis and Giselle just got here themselves. They’re in the living room with the boys. I’d better get back to the kitchen to help Barron slice the roast. Who does this little one belong to, anyway?” She picks up the baby’s hand and gives her a gentle shake. Angel opens a lazy eye and shuts it once she sees it’s just Emma.

  “She’s mine,” I say it candid yet cheesy, and Emma laughs in my face before taking off. I look to Logan and smile. “Who knew the truth could be so freeing?”

  We head into the living room to find Ellis and Giselle lost in a Disney animated feature, each with a sleeping boy in their arms, and both my heart and boobs ache at the sight of them. Ellis and Giselle hardly notice at all when Logan and I sit on the opposite sofa.

  The baby squirms to life and nuzzles her head in my chest.

  “Do you think she’s hungry?” Logan penetrates me with those citrine-colored eyes, and we share an intimate moment that borders on sexual. Logan Oliver has never looked so handsome as he does when inquiring on the nutritional needs of his sweet baby girl.

  Just as I’m about to process the thought of what and how to feed her, Angel lifts my shirt and ducks underneath, yanks down my bra, and gets to work like a nipple-seasoned pro.

  “I guess that answers the question.”

  Logan leans in, his eyes contently set to mine. “I love you, Skyla. I know this isn’t the way things were supposed to be. I know that this beautiful child should probably never exist because I love you and Gage together.” His lips depress into a hard frown as he struggles to hold it together. “But I love her. I would die for her, just like I would you and the boys. And now we have a very certain problem on our hands.”

  My lips part as words struggle to come out, but that warm sensation of the baby, this baby, Logan’s baby, suckling off my body is intense in nature—commanding as her tiny teeth bite into me. And just like that, I feel the same way he does. This baby is ours. She must exist. She does. My mother sure knows how to throw a perfect wrench into my life and into my marriage. But once again, she’s underestimated the love I have for my husband. She’s underestimated me entirely.

  I lean in, determined he hears me as I ready to pour out my heart. “This child isn’t going anywhere. I’m not giving her back.”

  Logan’s eyes sparkle with tears as he gives a single sober nod. “Then we will fight to keep her.”

  I reach over and take up his hand. “She’s home. Our little girl is here to stay.”

  A shadow darkens the doorway, and we look up to find a strapping Gage Oliver with an ear-to-ear grin. “All my favorite people under one roof.” He swoops in and lands a tender kiss to
my lips before kneeling in front of me, his cologne warming me with his love. He lifts my shirt, and his eyes grow wide a moment before he glances up.

  “Who is this?” All of the joy drains from his face as a morbid curiosity takes over.

  He looks from Logan to me, and neither of us volunteers a single word.

  It’s not who she is that I’m afraid to divulge.

  It’s what she has the power to do—or undo.

  Gage

  There are moments trapped in silence such as this one when you blatantly realize that your life is about to change. Skyla and Logan open and close their mouths like dysfunctional marionettes, and neither seems to have an answer to the very simple question at hand. Who is this little girl feasting off my wife’s tit? It seems black and white, nothing too abstract. But I have the feeling life is about to get about as abstract as the laws of the universe will allow.

  “I can explain.” Skyla shrugs as tears come to her eyes.

  “Dinner’s ready!” Mom shouts, and both boys startle to life with a hacking cry. “I’m so sorry!” she whispers, but it’s too late for that. Even the child at Skyla’s breast kicks away as if the sound of my mother’s voice grated on her. The little thing stretches Skyla’s nipple out an inch before coming up for air. She looks right at me as her milk-lined smile expands from ear-to-ear, and I’d swear on all that is holy I’ve seen that grin somewhere before.

  “Hey there, pretty girl.” I frown up at Skyla and Logan for no good reason before getting up.

  I head over and take Barron from Ellis while Giselle trots Nathan around the room to calm him down.

  “So, how were finals?” Skyla pops up next to me while the baby resting on her shoulder points to Barron and giggles up a storm as if she were in love with him. Both Nathan and Barron will be lady-killers. I’ve already surmised that, and not just because they’re my replicas. But this little beauty seems smitten and mindfully playful of the handsome boy before her as if she already knows him on some level.