Crown of Ashes

by Addison Moore

  The cords in his neck distend as he tries to digest this. “Let the volunteers finish their assignment.”

  “No!” both Logan and I say in unison.

  His eyes sharpen over mine in a manner I never want to grow accustomed to.

  “Why are you glaring at me?” My voice is curt and tight as I step in close to my husband as if I were about to deck him, and I’m tempted as hell.

  “Because those are my people and you’re trying to undercut me.”

  A stillness rises between us, nothing but the heavy sound of our breathing.

  “You are my subject, Gage. You are my people. I am the one in authority around here, and I need to do what is best.” Our eyes remain locked in an incredulous stare with neither of us backing down—the both of us in disbelief. “Look”—I cup my palm over his cheek—“I know this is hard for you. And I’m sorry you’ve promised your people their loved ones back, but they belong to the Barricade. This is their game, Gage. And in this round, they lose.”

  “No—not the Spectators, Skyla. You can’t have them.” His eyes widen with horror.

  Logan holds a hand out between us as if I were about to throw a fist at my husband, and I might.

  “Gage”—my voice comes out husky and anguished—“I’m sorry, but this is happening.”

  “Hey!” a male voice calls from the side, and we look to find Brody Bishop jogging over. “I heard what happened.” He nods my way. “What are we doing?”

  “We’re going to Tenebrous.” I look to Gage, to those startled eyes I love so deeply. “You can come with us or you can stay here, but this is happening tonight.”

  “Shit,” he says under his breath, and before I can determine how pissed he might be, a familiar looking Sector rises behind him.

  “Marshall!” I land over him in a hard embrace and soak in every good vibratory sensation. “You’re coming with us to Tenebrous.”

  “Perfect.” He glowers at the facility behind me. “Let the retribution be quick and swift. I’ve a home to tend to.”

  I glance to Gage. “It will be quick and swift. The torment of my people ends tonight. Where’s Coop? I know he’d want to be a part of this.”

  Logan shakes his head. “He’s in the back. It’ll be an hour at least until they process him.”

  “We can’t wait. We have to leave now.”

  Logan closes his eyes. “Skyla, your passion is great, but we need to figure out how to get the cells opened to set the people free. Gage can’t be in every cell at once to teleport the dead. We’ll only have minutes to complete the mission.”

  “The cells will open. Fire is greater than passion.”

  Surely the cells at Raven’s Eye will open for the flames.

  But judging by that furious look in my husband’s eyes, his heart will not.

  Tenebrous greets us with long forlorn branches draped over the open road, creating a tunnel of darkness, open arms filled with thorns, a charred grin as if ready to offer a necrotic embrace.

  Gage dips a kiss to the crease in my neck. “We need to talk.” The others head for the holding tanks, but Gage pulls me toward the stone of sacrifice. And I go willingly since I’m not looking to turn this into the tornado that takes down our marriage.

  “I know what you’re going to say.” I step up on the circular stone, and he does the same. It’s only a few feet off the ground, and yet it has the power to make Tenebrous, all of existence, seem diminutive while standing on its unholy granite. There is power on this stone, around it, through it, whether I like to admit it or not. The blood that was shed here has made it so. “And no, I cannot change my mind.”

  “You must.” He cups my cheeks as if my face were blown glass. “Skyla, I looked those people in the eye and said I’d protect their loved ones. I can’t just do a one-eighty and feed them to the government. That’s not how I operate. That’s not who I am.”

  “Well, I can’t let my people suffer. That’s not how I operate. That’s not who I am. Besides, our friends—our daughter is in there.”

  He blinks back as if I’ve hit below the belt.

  “Let me get them,” he pleads. “I will find a way. I’ll free them tonight.”

  I pull back, ready to leap from the stone and get the morbid show on the road. “Getting them is not enough. If we free the dead, then the feds will come for those they captured and tagged this afternoon. We need a diversion. One that will assure the Nephilim peace. Only the Spectators can provide it. Once the feds find real live zombies on their doorsteps, they won’t care that a few alien beings slipped through the net. In the hierarchy of chaos, zombies win every single time. We can buy peace—something that simply freeing the dead will never achieve.” Now it’s me pleading with him. “Side with me, Gage. You don’t belong to the Barricade. You belong to me.”

  His Adam’s apple rises and falls, and already I know what his decision is. Our lives flash before my eyes—our short marriage, which I hope to God drives out straight through the second coming. I don’t want death for Gage or me. I don’t want our union to ever come to an end. I think of the two of us entwined in our bed back at the Landon house—the very house he’s so desperate to escape from. I think of those blissful nights lying naked with our infant sons draped over our chests. We were so frustrated with our lives at that point, wanting freedom that only money could buy, wanting to finish our education, our own place, the money to fix up our own place—we were at the apex of our happiness, and we didn’t even realize it. And here, life had taken a hairpin turn with Gage opposing my wishes, me opposing his.

  “Skyla”—he calls out as if I were clear across the universe, and our gaze solidifies over one another, hopeful that whatever comes next unlocks the key to our shared frustration—“do not do this.” His voice shakes, and it’s hard to tell if it’s with rage or hurt, probably both. “I forbid it.”

  There it is, the dare I threw him earlier. And now he’s hurled it right back at my feet.

  A dull laugh dies in my chest. “We can’t seem to forbid one another to do a damn thing.” I head back through the woods, alone, feeling his void as heavy as a mountain, and it kills me. Then, as if eager to fill it, Gage appears by my side, his irritation nearing a boiling point as we make our way to where the others stand with Ingram Prendergast. Marshall, Logan, and Brody—the three of them hover over Ingram’s glowing notebook, where he has the Videns listed and organized right down to their eye color. Ingram is anal that way.

  “Marshall.” I pull him aside as Gage heads over to peer at Ingram’s notebook.

  “Ms. Messenger.” His intense crimson gaze sears me as if he can smell my fear. “Gage said he promised the Videns he’d keep the Spectators safe. Help me.”

  “Help you? Skyla, how many other solutions are at your disposal?”

  “None, and I’m not even sure if this is one of them. How can I save my people, occupy the feds, and help Gage keep his promise?”

  His chest bucks with a laugh. “Don’t forget to feed the starving and shelter the homeless. Throw in a wild night with yours truly while you’re at it. So many things to do, so little time.”

  “Point taken. I can’t solve every problem.”

  “But you can solve a few.”

  I take in a quivering breath as if I’ve just had a good cry, and I wish I had. “I can save the dead, send them back to paradise, save my baby”—my throat constricts because I don’t want to send her anywhere but in my arms—“and lead the government right to the Spectators.”

  “It sounds as if you’ve met with your solution.” He offers a peaceful smile. “And now that my work is done, I must leave. The Justice Alliance frowns upon the commingling of Sectors in Faction business. I can’t help you, Skyla. My tattered home awaits.”

  “Thank you for everything.” I pull him into a tight embrace. That loving feeling strums through him, straight down to my bones, and I drink in the small taste of paradise before heading straight into hell. “You’re always there for me.”

&nbs
p; “It’s an easy assignment.”

  “One more thing.” I hold up the ring on my finger that Chloe gave me, and he frowns. “My mother told me about the history of this ring. It looks as if it finally made its way to me.”

  Marshall lifts the ring and lands his lips over it. “I had dreamed of gifting it to you when the time was right. I suppose Ms. Bishop beat me to the punch.” His features darken. “Be careful with this, Skyla. It could mean life or death.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” That conversation in the Transfer comes back to me. “She also said my name was Skyla Dunamis.” I can’t even believe I’m entertaining my mother’s anti-Oliver rant. “What do you think that means?”

  “Skyla Dunamis.” Marshall’s countenance radiates when he says it as if my new moniker had the ability to sharpen his comely features. “It means the miraculous power of the living God. And that’s exactly what resides in you—the miraculous power of the living God.”

  “Wow.” I try to absorb what this might mean. “Any other words of advice?”

  “Yes.” He brushes my cheek with his thumb and dives in quickly. Before I know it, Marshall’s lips are over mine, and just as I’m about to pull away, I see it. A sign reads Raven’s Eye Government Facility. My attention is drawn to a man punching in a code, 4562. I pull back, breathless, and blink up at him in awe. Marshall helped me. He gave me what I would need to infiltrate those wicked grounds—a Sector commingling with Faction business. “Thank you,” I whisper. And just like that, he’s gone.

  I head over to the testosterone huddle, and the entire lot of them looks up at me at once. “It’s time. There’s no going back.” I look to Gage and nod. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.” His dimples invert with a frown. In all of the turbulence that has plagued our short union, this one feels like an unscalable wall that we’re suddenly faced with. God knows I would cut through iron bars, destroy gates of bronze to please my husband, but here, in this dark place, there is no amicable solution. “Brody, you’ll go with Gage. Logan, you’ll come with me.” I don’t dare meet with my husband’s eyes. The last thing we need is an argument breaking out between us and launching the entire mission to hell. “Gage—we need you to teleport us back along with the dead.” The words hardly crest the painful lump in my throat. “Ingram, you’ll release the Spectators to me in batches. I’ll have Chloe lead authorities to them just like she did the dead.”

  “Sounds good,” Brody is the first to declare. He sets his hand out between us. “The Retribution League lives another day.”

  “Amen to that.” I land my hand over his, and Logan does the same.

  “To beautiful retribution.” Logan looks to me. “And to getting our daughter back safe.”

  We break as we take up one another’s hands, ready to transport to Raven’s Eye, and all I can think of is the fact Gage didn’t join our friendly hand tap. He’s a part of the team, but he doesn’t support what we’re doing. Gage hasn’t taken the throne, and already we’re in direct opposition. Tears form in my eyes as Tenebrous fades to nothing.

  Demetri is already pulling us apart.

  A cloak of darkness surrounds us as midnight quickly creeps upon us. The ocean roars in the distance as the fog crawls over the island with its elongated fingers. A baby-faced moon sits full and high, thinly veiled, as if the fog itself were willing to expose our efforts.

  Raven’s Eye is small in comparison to the island we call home—round in shape when juxtaposed to Paragon’s oblong physique. The waves crash over its borders with a marked aggression, threatening to swallow it whole, to submerge it from every angle. And all of that I’ve surmised in the thimble of an airborne moment Gage afforded us.

  We land hard on our feet right in the bushes near the old iconic looking facility with its tall iron gates and impenetrable charm. If we knew where to go inside—a place we wouldn’t get caught—caught on the security cameras, I would have had Gage transport us directly in the heart of this disaster. But according to Logan, it’s a well-oiled machine with electronic eyes everywhere you turn.

  “The fire?” Logan shakes his head as if we’ve made a misstep before we ever set foot on the facility.

  “Gage will provide the fire.” I look up at his sturdy build, his smile flickering ironically like a candle who won’t take a flame. “Breathe your fury all over this place.” I give an unsteady nod. “We’ll need lots of smoke. A wall of white to shield us. And I’ll need the security cameras disabled. We’ll split up in pairs.”

  Brody shakes his head. “That’s easy. I’ll go first. Give me five minutes. I’ll rewind the system by a half hour. They won’t have a clue shit just hit the fan.”

  I whisper the code to Brody who heads to the gate as if he owns the place.

  Gage leans in, touching his lips to mine, his eyes watching me lazily. “Let me go in with you. Logan can go with Brody. We’re a team, Skyla, you and me.”

  My mouth opens, unsure of which direction it wants to head in, just as Brody comes back.

  “Fucking easy.” He nods to Gage. “We’ll take the east wing. Clock’s ticking. If we’re not out with everyone in less than seven minutes, we won’t be going anywhere. No cell phones. They can trace us right back here.” Brody takes off, and Gage steps back, his silence pleading with me before he sighs, closes his eyes, and heads out after Brody.

  “Come here.” Logan takes up my hand and lands a kiss to the back of it. “It’s time to get our daughter.”

  Logan leads us through a narrow corridor that follows a marked path that leads into the main facility, and we head west under the banner of barbed wire and signs that read Authorized Personnel Only Beyond This Point.

  I’m authorizing us. I give Logan’s hand a squeeze. We make our way closer, only to find a set of glass doors sealing the entry.

  Retina entry. He nods to the security panel to the left of the entrance.

  The doors burst open with an explosive boom as a man in a janitorial uniform barrels his way out while wheeling a large waste bin. He bucks and kicks, trying to get his behemoth contraption to mind him, leaving the doors flapping in his wake like a dying fish. We wait until he turns the corner, and Logan jams his shoe in the door before it seals itself shut. He pulls me in, and I trail him like a kite. Logan moves us swiftly through the facility he’s memorized in his sleep, quite literally.

  I don’t know where she is, Skyla. He gives my hand a squeeze.

  For a minute I think he’s talking about Angel, but his gaze is fixed on an empty room with its glass doors swung open. The tiny room holds only a metal bed and a toilet, not a stitch more.

  This was her room. He takes in a quivering breath, the pain, all of his anguish unleashing into the world with that single sigh. Casey is gone. She must be dead.

  My arms wrap themselves around the girth of his body. Let’s get the others, Logan. Let’s do it for her.

  An alarm screams overhead as the lights blink on and off manically. Smoke sweeps by like an army of ghosts speeding out of hell, and my entire body enlivens with adrenaline.

  I squeeze his hand to the bone. It’s show time.

  Logan leads us as we trail the smoke floating over our heads, ready to press over us like a lid sealing in our airless fate. In a moment, we’re in the hall of horror, each cell filled with the weary look of despair. A red light blinks on above each and every cell, and just like that, the faces of those once dead light up with hope they never knew was coming as the cell doors magically swing open. The feds might want to keep my people prisoners, but it needs to adhere to fire codes nevertheless.

  Logan and I run from cell to cell shouting, guiding the prisoners to the route to freedom. There is no time to waste.

  A pair of gentlemen emerges from one of the confinement units, Frank and Graham, the Smite brothers, and they look to the two of us.

  “What’s happening? What about the assignment?”

  “It’s over,” I pant. “Your duty here is done.”

  Frank lets out a ha
rrowing howl, a yodel that sounds more like code than it does a primal release, and a stampede rushes by, an entire cluster of bodies as the dead all press their way to the exit at once.

  “What was that?” Logan lets out a dry laugh as he ushers them to the exit.

  Graham winks over at us as the throngs rush past. “Let’s just call it the Sampson option.”

  “You had a plan.” I bite down the urge to cry. “Get to the entry. Gage and Brody will lead you to safety. We’ll meet you in Tenebrous.”

  “The tunnels.” Graham’s face grows white. “We trust you.”

  And just like that, the room clears of people and fills with smoke.

  “Angel and Tobie.” I panic as I rush from cell to cell. “Ellis? Laken?” I give Logan’s arm a squeeze as the smoke starts to blanket the vicinity. “Do you see them?”

  “No.” Logan’s eyes grow wild with panic, and that alone is enough to send me through the roof with alarm. We head out further and come to a hall that splits in two different directions—the smoke pushing in thick, driving every living being out of its path. “I’ll go right. You go left.” He grips me hard by the shoulders, his gaze penetrating mine. “Do not die on me, Skyla. Do a quick scan. If you don’t see them, get out. Gage and Brody most likely have them. Get on the floor if you need to. You won’t do your boys or your people any good if you’re dead.”

  I press a hard kiss to his lips before bolting the hell away from him. I’m not leaving until I’m sure there’s not a soul left back here. The room opens up to a larger facility, an operating room of some sort, and I’m distinctly reminded of Ezrina’s chop shop. The smoke hisses past me like a snake, and in seconds the room is filled with billows of life-choking clouds that force me to breathe in my sleeve. My lungs refuse its strangling fumes as I begin to choke and gag. I fall to the floor and take a quick breath, the smoke still a foot over my head. I’ve got less than a minute before I need to get the hell out. Logan is right. I won’t do my boys or my people any good if I’m dead. A narrow door up ahead catches my attention, and I army crawl over as fast as I can. The room is dark, the smoke lies thick, sinking ever so closer to the ground, and it leaves me sucking the floor for my next breath. Then I hear it, the sharp, anguished wail of an infant. I crawl forward and spot a glass enclosure in the wall across from me with a red-faced babe screaming her head off, pounding over the glass in hopes anyone will see her—Tobie.