Crown of Ashes

by Addison Moore

  Gage hands me Nathan, still groggy from his nap, and I can’t help but smile. We’ve dressed the boys as a couple of little skunks, and we haven’t stopped snapping pictures of them ever since we stuffed them in these ridiculously cute costumes. Of course, we stopped by Emma and Barron’s first and let them ogle and hold our precious little stinkers. My own mother is already at Demetri’s not-so-humble abode commandeering tonight’s circus the demon himself has thrust upon us. Speaking of abodes, humble or not, Gage and I have been burning rubber on our own cozy dwelling. Not only will our home be ready to move into by Christmas, but I’ve decided to bite the bullet and give Gage an early birthday gift by way of moving us all into Emma and Barron’s for our last and final few weeks of parental incarceration—hell, I figure I could stand on my head for a few weeks if I had to.

  A happy little jack-o-lantern carved with a grin that holds a child-like innocence greets us at Demetri’s door. I know for a fact it came from Logan’s very own pumpkin patch—the Oliver Pumpkin Patch to be exact because I took the boys, and we helped select the pumpkins my mother picked up for the party. Mostly Gage and I picked them out, but we had a blast sitting the boys in a sea of orange and taking pictures of them as if it were their last moments on earth. The storage on my phone is in serious peril at this point. I’ve taken thousands of pictures of them. Of course, none as good as the ones Lex has taken. I’ve got to give it to the girl. I may not like her man-stealing tactics, but she wields a mean camera. And circling back to Logan, he did just as he said he would do. He gave away each and every pumpkin that he grew this year to the kids on the island. I’ve always known Logan has a heart of gold, and now everyone else knows it, too.

  Demetri’s home appears to be openly scowling at me, with those tall creepy windows that mimic arched brows, those obnoxious glass doors that resemble a large gaping mouth. I glare at the monolithic mansion that demon insists on occupying. The liar claims it was once his grandfather’s, but I doubt such a creature ever existed. Nevertheless, tonight’s clash of costumes is strictly Wesley’s fault—well, Chloe’s fault, too. The real reason Demetri’s haunted mansion is festooned with black and purple balloons is because his one and only granddaughter, precious October Edinger, turns one today. And, for Tobie, I’ll show up every day of the week.

  Gage adjusts Barron on his hip before shutting the door to the minivan and squinting up at his father’s demonic hovel. “You ready to do this?”

  “As ready as I’ll never be.” I give a quick wink.

  “Count me in,” a voice floats from behind, and we find Logan dressed to kill in a flannel and jeans and nothing more than a smile. “Look at you.” He forces a frown to come and go as he kisses each of the boys. “I promise I’ll get your parents back for this.”

  “And what are you supposed to be?” Gage hands him Barron as we make our way to the oversized bat cave Demetri prefers to hang out in.

  “I’m Skyla’s Elysian.” He grins my way. “Trust me, Halloween on this island usually brings enough of its own frights. It doesn’t need me adding to it. In fact, they should change that sign out by the harbor to read Welcome to Paragon. Every day is Halloween.”

  “Dude, that barn you erected is a fright in and of itself.” Gage has enjoyed mercilessly teasing him.

  “Stop.” I slam my shoulder into my husband’s. It’s been a tough barn-shaped pill for Logan to swallow, and now that the barn is built, painted a painful, blistering red, and is undergoing the last few details before its grand opening in a month or so, there’s nothing Logan or any of us can do to stop this countrified nightmare.

  We head in, and the house is dark with plumes of fog moving along the floors in a snakelike pattern, a glowing sign reads this way to the party, and we follow the bloodied arrows all the way to the back of Demetri’s sweeping estate. The yard is done up with all the finery a haunted holiday like this requires. It’s apparent my mother—and Demetri’s wallet—spared no expense. Skeletons hang from newly erected gallows. Clown heads sit heaped in a pile at the base of a bloody guillotine—tons and tons of bloodied clown heads—and I try very hard to ignore the fact I feel a cardiac episode coming on. My God, doesn’t my mother know me by now? Surely after spending the last two decades with me, she’s apprised of the fact I hate the guts of every clown that’s ever lived, right? The sight of them alone used to send me running for the hills, but my phobia has dialed itself down a notch ever since Dr. O gifted me a tiny clown’s head a few years back and basically told me to get over it. God, I love Dr. O. Why can’t Emma be so affable? Speaking of which, Kate owes me an answer. Time is of the essence before she does her final leap into the sky, and I’m still dying to know why she thinks Emma Oliver is so much trouble. I can give a running list myself but none of us have that kind of time on this planet.

  I glance around for anyone that might look even vaguely familiar, but all I see is a bunch of people gathered around the wooden stocks in the center of the yard, taking selfies and group shots. The party isn’t quite pumping yet, but judging by the fact Demetri’s soirees are known for free food and booze, I suspect the entire island will be Edinger bound soon enough. As it stands, enough people mill around to qualify as a decent get-together, and both my mother and Demetri head over with giant plastered grins. My mother holds Misty over her hip with pride—the two of them are both dressed as matching pink princesses. Demetri is his evil self—the scariest costume of the night, I’m sure—and Tobie is wearing a frilly pink tutu with a sparkling tiara pressed into her luscious dark curls.

  “Looks like we found the birthday princess! Happy birthday, precious!” I gift Tobie a kiss, and she claps up a storm before blowing Gage a soft dainty kiss over her fingers.

  Gage pretends to catch it and lands it against his cheek. “Happy birthday, kiddo.” He offers her a quick peck. Gage is proving to be a stellar uncle. Just the thought sends my heart aching for Angel.

  Tobie laughs so hard her entire body shakes, as if Gage were the funniest thing in the world. She’s so cute we can’t help but laugh along. Her dark curly hair is down to her neck, framing those breathtaking blue eyes, and don’t get me started on those dimples. She is Wesley—Gage to a T. She looks every bit like a miniaturized version of Sage, and I ache for my other daughter, too.

  “Would you look at this?” Mom’s eyes grow wide as she ribs me. “Demetri spares no expense when it comes to hosting a birthday party. How about we—”

  “No.” I sneer over at him. It’s been a month of deflecting Demetri’s demented offer to host the boys’ first birthday bash. “A hard no after seeing that basket full of creepy clown parts.” I make a half-hearted effort to cover Nathan’s ears. “A hell no after seeing the blood dripping from their necks and surmising they’re real!” I hiss at the horror, and both Demetri and my mother chortle at the murderous details this evening has to offer.

  Marshall calls Logan over to the fountain, and he excuses himself.

  “I’m with her,” Gage says to the two of them. “Skyla and I have decided to keep it simple for the boys.”

  “For two days straight,” I offer. “We’ll order in and have cake at the house. We’ll celebrate my birthday with Nathan, and then do the same with Barron and Gage the next day.”

  “My God, don’t you dare!” my mother cries out while throwing her hand in the air as if we just threatened to eviscerate them. Misty bucks her way down and escapes her capture, making her way to where Beau is busy plucking at the eyes of the zombie seated at the entrance to the house. And, soon enough, the birthday princess herself hops down and waddles on unsteady feet to the two of them, only to be intercepted by Wes.

  “Nice job, Tobie.” I marvel at how sweet it was just witnessing that moment. They may not have been her first steps, but they’re the first I’ve seen, and it warmed my heart to witness it. Chloe is here on the premises—but, sadly, she couldn’t care less if Tobie waddled straight into a lake.

  Wes steps in, and just as I’m about to greet him, my mo
ther snatches Nathan from me. “You’ll do no such thing. You and Gage aren’t even in the spotlight this year. You can have one party at home with the boys—if that’s the road you insist on taking.” She smirks at Demetri as if mocking the idea. “And we’ll be right here the next day to have a proper first birthday equipped with clowns and balloons—we’ll even have a donkey for the kids to ride!” she cries with jubilation, and a part of me doesn’t have the heart to stick a pin in her donkey loving dreams.

  Tad barrels up with a drink clipped to his teeth, and my mother is quick to take it. His left arm has graduated to a soft splint, but he still has a limited range of motion. His good hand is laden down with a heaping plate of suspiciously glistening seafood with a mini octopus sitting on top as if it were the cherry on that pile of crustaceans.

  “That’s right, kids. You’ll have the big one here. The little woman here sealed the deal with an all-you-can-eat seafood stuff it and buff it. In fact, we’re letting old Demetrius here host every occasion and holiday for the rest of our natural lives!” He honks out a hee-haw of a laugh as he shovels that eight-legged creature into his mouth, and a tentacle strays outside his lips as if it were fighting to maintain its own natural life. Natural life, my ass. There’s not a natural thing about anyone in our tiny little circle. There certainly isn’t anything natural about Demetri.

  Tad garbles out something unintelligible as that tentacle flies up his nostril, and without missing a beat, he heads straight for the buffet once again.

  “Pace yourself!” Demetri calls after him, that perennial smile of his wiped from his face momentarily. “You’re bound to choke to death one of these days.” That greasy grin of his floats right back like a serpent lying over his lips. “And you are bound to do just that.”

  “Goodness.” My mother leans in. “Excuse me while I stop my husband from making such a donkey of himself.” She trots off, and I’m tempted to say something, but I think I’ll let Demetri take this one.

  He looks over at her. “I’m afraid she’s found the ass for the party.”

  Gage and I exchange a dry smile.

  Gage offers Wes a knuckle bump. “What’s up? You have any trouble last night?”

  “What was last night?” My heart leaps into my throat because everyone knows whatever happened last night with Wes could be a thousand times more frightening than anything this unholy night has to offer.

  Wes looks to Gage as if asking for permission, but the beauty of it is they both ignore their father.

  “Meeting with the Videns.” Gage pulls me in close. “Suffice it to say, they’re pissed at me.”

  “Yes.” Wesley’s chest bucks at the thought. “They’re a little more than that.”

  Demetri growls out a dull laugh. “Make sure you’re never alone in a dark alley. I’d hate to see them bring a swift end to you.”

  If I could vomit on cue, I would hurl on Demetri’s shoes—better yet, a rise of projectile vomiting right in the old man’s face for even speaking the idea of Gage meeting his demise. I think everyone in our small circle knows that my husband’s death is Demetri’s end game, or should I say beginning—but must he be so brazen?

  “You mind?” I reach for Tobie, and she lunges into my arms.

  “Not at all.” Wes offers a painful smile. “You and Ezrina are the only prominent female figures in her life.” He steps in, and my heart thumps because he looks so indistinguishably like Gage at the moment. “Thank you, Skyla. I may not say it often enough, but I appreciate you—in that respect.”

  I don’t even let that pointy backward barb he laced it with bother me because I understand where he’s coming from.

  “In that respect, I appreciate you, too. You’re a great dad, Wes.” I shrug up at him playfully. “Go figure.” I take off with Tobie as if I had just robbed a bank and make a beeline for a small familiar circle of peeps near the shrubbery.

  Nat and Kate share a laugh while Pierce—the real deal—wraps his arms around Nat from behind. Both Nat and Kate are dressed as vixens, which is almost a requirement on this haunted night.

  “Skyla.” Pierce gives an easy smile. “I can’t thank you enough for this gift.”

  “Apparently, thanking me is a theme this evening.”

  Kate clears her throat. “So, you know?” she whispers her loudest. That’s Kate, forever the trooper. Even with her vocal cords out of commission, that girl hasn’t complained once.

  “Know what?” I blink over to Pierce just as Holden and Serena come up, and for a moment I’m breathless at her beauty. Her snow-white hair is pulled into a bun, and she’s dressed as a prima ballerina. Holden is dressed like an unfortunate dumpster diver, and I’m not quite getting the connection, but nevertheless, Serena is a beauty.

  “We’re going back.” Pierce gives Nat a painful glance. “I’m going back.”

  “Me, too.” Kate shrugs over at me. “Your mother came to me in a dream. We have less than a month.” She reaches over and picks up my hand, warming it with hers. The silk scarf around her neck quivers in the breeze. “Is there any way you can utilize me? I haven’t done a thing to help.”

  “No. The whole point was for you to enjoy another taste of life—the life I cut short for almost all of you. It’s my way of saying I’m sorry. But a month?” I’m panicked at the thought, and I’m not sure why. “Did she happen to say when and how?”

  Kate shares a quick look with Pierce. “She said she would let me know the night before.”

  “Perfect.” I look to Pierce with a heavy heart. “Did you enjoy your stay?”

  “Yes. Hell yes.” He tousles Nat’s hair, causing it to spring skyward in tight little coils. “I think we needed this. A long goodbye.” His gaze falls to hers, and she lunges for him, conjoining themselves at the mouth and stumbling back behind the bushes.

  “Don’t worry, Messenger.” Holden nods to me. “He’s shooting blanks.”

  “Oh, wow.” I twist Tobie away from all Kraggers present. “I suppose that’s a small mercy. Rumor has it, you’re not, though.” Marshall told me all about their little nest egg of children, quite literally. I think they had four or five hatchlings at least.

  “The kids have been impossible,” Serena laments as she looks to the evergreens. “But I think everyone is looking forward to getting back to normal again. Earth is nice, but sky is better.”

  By “normal” I assume she means feathers. At least they’re taking their captivity in stride. I know for a fact, Emerson is a hater of all things aviary these days. Can’t say I blame her. I’ll feel horrible once she’s forced to leave.

  Holden drops a kiss over the top of his better half’s pale hair. “Feathers suit me, Messenger.”

  “That’s good to hear.” Especially since there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. “I’ll be glad to have you floating around once again. But Chloe is sort of a fixture around me now, so be careful not to get too close when she’s within wing-shot.”

  “Will do.” He shakes his head, rife with worry. “Dude, you are going to regret playing in that lava pit. She is going to burn your skin off before you ever realize it’s missing.”

  “She’s capable of killing you, Skyla.” Serena touches her hand to her neck as if my own head were on the chopping block.

  “I’ll be fine. Hey, where’s Emerson?” I’m racked with guilt over the fact she’ll have to turn in that black lipstick of hers for a black beak. Tragically, I see no point in her rotting away in Mia’s room for the next hundred years.

  “She’s here.” Holden leans in, his posture suddenly wary. “You know she’s banging that dude your sister’s dating.”

  “Gabe? God, I hate Gabriel Armistead!” I hate his sister even more, but I’m loath to even say her name. Both Carson and her airheaded friend, Carly, have been known to appear from thin air once I say their names out loud.

  “The other one,” Serena corrects. “The bad boy with all the whips and chains and that smelly leather jacket. Believe you me, it’ll be the first thing I
crap on once I’m back in proper form.” She wrinkles her nose at the thought of him.

  I suck in a sharp breath, and Tobie jerks along with me. “Crap! Excuse me, I have to find Mia.” I take off through the crowd of costumed bodies, through the laughing, the haunting music that people still find enough rhythm in to move to, and search for my sisters, but for the life of me I can’t find them—I find the Bitch Squad instead.

  “Messenger.” Em nods me over where she and her trio of besties are all dressed in the same uniform I happened to don. I can’t help but giggle at the sight as I bop on over with Tobie tugging on my hair as if she’s attempting to braid it.

  Michelle howls with laughter. “West Paragon bitches live to cheer another day!”

  Chloe scowls at both the birthday princess and me. “Bree and I still cheer, you idiot.” She sheds a dark smile my way. “Thanks to you, my liege.”

  “And don’t you forget it.” Tobie squirms uncomfortably at the sight of her mother, and I set her down a moment. “Chloe.” I point down to the pint-sized princess. “We’ve got a future West cheerleader right here, and it happens to be her birthday.”

  “God, don’t remind me.” She shivers. “My junk still hurts from evicting her.”

  “Chloe.” I pick Tobie up and take a step toward her mother. “At least wish her a happy birthday.”

  Chloe bares her fangs a moment before snapping her teeth at the little one, and Tobie starts in on a wailing cry.

  Em takes her from my arms. “Don’t be such a shit, Chloe. Even you have a mother that loves you.”

  Michelle snorts. “Come on, we all knew Chloe wouldn’t be up for mother of the year. Serpent of the year maybe.” She and Em share a laugh, but Chloe looks as if she’s plotting a couple of homicides for later.