Toxic Part Two
Page 35
“It is done.” Marshall breathes over me.
“What have we done?” I squeeze his hand with a death grip.
“You and I, Skyla, have entered into a sealed and lasting covenant.” He punctuates it with a molten kiss that lingers over my lips long after he pulls away. “All that’s left is to consummate our union.”
Chapter 110
Devine Debacle
“Covenant?” I hiss as Marshall wraps an arm around my waist and we offer a spontaneous bow to the quickly dispersing social circle. “What the hell was that about?”
At least twelve different people snap their heads in our direction, offering a forlorn look to Marshall in the process.
“Congratulations.” My mother starts in on a slow sarcastic applause as she makes her way over. She’s wearing a deep indigo gown with what looks like a bevy of stars sparkling throughout. She holds the entire solar system hostage on that frock of hers.
Dad comes up from behind and drops a kiss on my head.
“I’m proud of you,” he whispers.
“For not dismembering my new husband’s crux of virility? What the hell has gotten into everyone?” I wouldn’t put it past Marshall to serve something “home brewed” with enough of his Sector-based witchcraft to make everyone fall under some mass nuptial hallucination.
Bite your tongue. Marshall gives my hand a gentle squeeze. Witchcraft is strictly forbidden.
“Skyla.” Mom slips her arm around me and immediately I’m soothed by her sweet vibrations. “It was beautiful watching Sector Marshall unite with you in spirit. I only wish he had waited until Lizbeth arrived.” She frowns at Marshall’s apparent guest list blunder.
“Oh, no.” I shake my head. “He did the right thing. For sure that would not have gone over well. Anyway, I’m not marrying Marshall, in fact, I’m not even with Logan or Gage at the moment.”
“This isn’t dating.” Marshall looks aghast at my oversight. “This is everlasting love.”
The idea of everlasting love with Marshall takes my breath away. A small part of me wants it—is already there.
I gag as a jumble of words try to escape my throat all at once. “Need I remind everyone covenants are serious business?” I shake my head, incredulous at what just happened. “Besides, we didn’t say ‘until death do us part’ or anything, so this totally doesn’t count.”
The three of them tick their heads back in unison as if I had just let loose a series of vile curses over my unborn children.
“‘Until death do us part’ is simply a formality.” My mother scolds. “This is a lasting covenant, Skyla. It commences now but establishes itself in full once you’ve consummated the union.”
My mouth squares out in horror. I can’t even lift my eyes to look at my father.
“It’s all right, Skyla.” My mother pulls me in and offers a feather-soft kiss over my cheek. It feels glorious to be loved by her. “This is for a later time.”
An entire hoard of well-masked people stream outdoors—all human I assume.
“Looks like the troops are here,” Dad whispers and everyone around us slowly lifts a long, handled mask to their faces. Birds and tigers, flowers, queens, and laughing jesters, everyone sports a unique covering that Marshall chose expressly for them.
My mother nudges me so I lift the long stem of my disguise and peer out through the cutouts while my breath warms the inside.
Logan and Gage arrive, both wearing Phantom-like masks that require no holding of anything and I must admit they look decidedly hot. Logan’s mask is outlined with gold while the one Gage wears is outlined in clear reflective stones, bright as diamonds. I’d recognize those two if they had paper bags over their heads.
I trek my way over. A large crowd comes between us and I land smack in front of Tad, Mom, and baby Beau who happens to be wearing an odd black dress.
“Unique,” I say, plucking at the strange lace number.
“Isn’t it something?” Mom beams, removing the ornate visor from her face. Her mask is of an overly done up woman, pearl skin, large pink lips bloom like cherry blossoms, eyelids elongate like bright blue eggs. Tad’s looks like a combination of a person and a pig with crooked fat lips that drip to the ground.
“I know you!” A voice sings over the crowd.
Mom and I turn to find a heavily endowed female Fem with twin tassels strategically dotting her gown as a testament to all things mammary. She twirls and whirls in our direction revealing herself from behind the cardboard cutout of a hissing snake as the sensible Edinger of the bunch. She points to her breasts and as she strides toward Tad to punctuate the fact she’s in a discerning frame of mind.
“Nice,” I say as he ducks and dodges through the crowd to land before her in record time. “Home wrecker.”
“Isis?” Mom balks at my analysis. “She’s harmless.”
“Demetri’s not,” I say, panning the crowd for the devil in question. “He killed Dad and he’s slowly killing me.”
Her mouth opens to protest then quickly closes again as she dives past me and lands in someone’s arms.
I turn in haste, fully expecting to slash Demetri’s throat with the heel of my shoe, but it’s not Demetri. It’s Dad, and my spirit sings at the sight of my parents embracing.
I step back offering them a moment of privacy.
Melissa steps out of the house, laughing with a boy attached to her arm. She wears the mask of a rabid-looking hyena, and oddly, so does he. Although, his mask is darker, more nefarious in nature and this alarms me on some level. They take off toward a secluded area of the forest and melt into the shadows.
Mia steps out, beautiful and alone. Her paper disguise lays low at her hip and her eyes are downturned as if she’s already had a good cry. I go over and offer her a hug.
“You look great!” I smile, pushing her hair behind her ear. She’s wearing a bright red dress with a full skirt and sequined crimson heels like she might be up for a visit to the Emerald City later.
“And you look like a glow stick.” It comes out more an observation than an insult.
“I guess you’re right.” I pluck at the fabric and a sea of tiny screams fill my ears. “Remember when I told you there was someone who could cheer you up? Someone who might make you feel better about this whole Gabriel Armistead fiasco?”
“Yeah,” she says, bored by the conversation. Her gaze cuts past my shoulder, trying to decipher Melissa in the shadows.
“Well, he’s here. I’d love for you to speak with him, and I know he’s been dying to speak with you.” No pun intended.
“Is it God?” She sneers. “Because it’s going to take a miracle for me to feel better about anything.”
“No, not God,” I whisper, pulling her into a crease of darkness. “Mia, you’re special. You and Melissa, and the rest of the Landon family, you’re all angles known as the Countenance.”
“Are you on crack?” She plucks her arm free.
I crimp my lips as I consider the can of worms I might be opening.
“Dad had a twin brother and he’s here tonight. Let’s say hi.”
“What?” She squawks in disbelief. “Dad did not have a twin.”
“You’re right, he didn’t.” No use proliferating the lie.
I walk her over to where Mom and Dad have sequestered themselves with the baby. We find them out at the far end of the yard under a full-blooming olive tree. Its inky fruit dots the canopy of branches as the lavender night sky peeks between the leaves. The air is fresh with the heavy scent of moist earth and pine. “This isn’t Dad’s twin, Mia.” I take in her wide-eyed wonder. “It’s Dad.” Mom relinquishes Beau to me as Mia comes into their circle.
Honestly, there are some things only a mother and father should handle, and post-death reprisals are one of them.
Baby Beau and I circulate through the crowd until we emerge on the youthful side of the property, out by the shadowed thicket where a bunch of people from West exchange masks, and mock the event in general.
It’s the queen bitch herself. I’d recognize the snarl in her voice anywhere.
“Would you go away? You’re scaring the baby.” I cup my hand over his head and turn his face toward the woods.
Chloe fans herself with the effigy Marshall saw fit to gift her and offers a wicked crimson smile.
“How do you like my new haircut, Skyla?” She twirls a little before reverting a heated gaze in my direction. You could skillet fry a meal off Chloe’s hatred for me.
“What haircut?” She’s got her hair pulled back in a ponytail…only—there’s no tail. “Lop a little too much off on your hacking spree?” Oh shit. Was I supposed to say that? I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to keep up the dumb blond routine when it comes to acknowledging the fact she killed Emerson—twice. Sort of blows the whole Giselle hiding out in a Kragger body thing sky high.
“I don’t do home haircuts.” A quick puff of fog escapes her lips as she chokes out the thought.
“Looks like your hairdresser got a little liberal with the shears.” I try to step past her, but she blocks my path. “Honestly? I’ve got better things to do than deal with your bad hair day. Relax, it’ll grow out.” Chloe acts as if her follicular suicide is all my fault.
“Funny.” She drills her satanic laser beams into my skull. “That’s what the beauty school dropout who razored it off said when she was through. You wanna know what she said when she started? From Skyla with love.”
I swallow hard.
“Brielle,” I say it low. Shit. What the hell would she do that for? She must be crazed at the idea that we’ve all but hijacked baby Beau. I mean, for God’s sake, my mother has him parading around like a transvestite and suckling off her bosom. Pitting Chloe against me would only stand to reason.
Wait…could this be Brielle’s ultimate act of revenge?
“Let the record show,” Chloe says, crossing her arms, “I will kick your ass in the ethereal plane and I will thrash your world right here on Earth. I am so over playing nice with you.” She pokes me hard in the chest, and the baby wobbles and whines.
“You never played nice, Chloe. You killed my dad and you killed Emerson, Ethan, and—” There was a name…It was going to bubble from my lips. It felt natural, as if I knew of another Bishop casualty but my vocal cords wouldn’t give it. It was almost as if I understood something about the future, something that would happen, that had already embedded itself in my heart forever.
“Say it, Skyla.” She steps in. Her hot breath sears over me like fiery coals.
“Who is it, Chloe? Who are you going to kill?”
Chloe blows a quick breath into my eyes and I jerk, almost falling over with the baby in these sky-high heels.
“Go to hell,” I say, leveling myself as I make my way around her.
She snatches me up by the wrist. “This is hell. It’s hell every day I have to look at you.” She draws back and hawks a wad of spit into my eye, gelatinous and hot.
Chloe takes off as I put Beau’s dress to good use and wipe the venom off my face. I wish getting rid of Chloe was just as simple.
***
A curtain of evergreens provides the perfect backdrop for Marshall’s monster mash—Chloe being the monster.
I spot Logan and Gage hanging out with Ellis so I head on over. Looks like all limbs are present and accounted for—Ellis’s included. I don’t want them warring over me tonight or any other night for that matter. I don’t know how any of this is ever going to work. I want Logan just as much as I do Gage, which defies logic and reason on every level. I was indoctrinated into the Mom and Dad, one man per woman, army. I played with Barbie and Ken for God sake, not Barbie and Men.
My dress glows like a lamplight as I move into their circle. Baby Beau marvels with approving coos as he tries to pluck every last curl off my head.
“Let me.” Logan offers, taking him from me like he’s already held a thousand infants and I melt at the sight of him with a baby in his arms.
Ellis peers into Beau and lets the baby take a hold of his finger. “Good genes,” he says, pulling back. “So how many kids are we having?” He squeezes a loose grin in my direction.
“Let’s see—no fun, plus one, equals none.” I bat my lashes into him. “You think I can have a word with the gladiators?”
“Sure.” He looks past my shoulder. “I see someone I need to talk to anyway.” He darts over to Chloe and pulls her into the woods.
What’s that about?
Logan and Gage don’t say a word as we back into an overgrown spruce with its trunk flocked in long green whiskers.
A strangled silence crops up. It leaves the three of us looking to the ground, our shoes, baby Beau and his feminine accruements.
We stew in the unnatural tension. It ferments around us, thick and smothering. I can’t recall a single time that we’ve grappled for words, struggled to stand in one another’s presence. I bet this is what it’s going to be like from now on—just the thought nauseates me.
A smile plays on Logan’s lips. It pecks and claws at the edges as he fights to keep it at bay. “I think we should see each other.” Logan’s eyes swell with anticipation as he gently bounces the baby.
“I think we should keep seeing each other.” Gage emphasizes the word keep without missing a beat.
For a minute I consider telling them both that I accidentally may have married Marshall tonight, but don’t.
“OK,” I nod, “I’ll see you.” I dart a quick glance into the woods to avert their gaze.
“Which one?” Gage says it low, hesitant.
“Both of you—well, technically, neither of you.” I give a depleted smile. “I want to really dig down deep, no psychical stuff. I want to get to know the two of you better.” What I really want is for all of this to go away. Doesn’t my mother know that choosing between Logan and Gage is too big of a burden for any heart?
“I think digging in deep is a great idea.” Logan pulls me in by the waist and holds me alongside the baby like we’re a family. “I think getting to understand who we are outside of the tug of war for your heart might help you see things clearer.”
“She said nothing psychical.” Gage glares into him.
“We’ll see,” Logan whispers. The baby starts to fuss and he rocks him gently trying to appease him. “I think he’s hungry. I’d better find Brielle. Be right back.”
Actually, Bree’s probably not sporting the slightly deranged equipment the baby requires to satisfy him, but I don’t correct Logan as he makes his way into the crowd.
Gage collapses his arms over me tight like a shield. He presses his face into the side of my neck and inhales like he were coming up for air.
“I thought you agreed—no physical stuff.” I give a dark laugh.
“Hugs don’t count.” He pulls back and takes me in. “But everything about us does.” He slips a smoldering kiss over my lips. Gage isn’t afraid to break the rules where Logan is concerned. “You look amazing.” There’s a marked sadness in his eyes and it kills me to see him this way. “Sorry.” He touches his nose to mine for a moment. “I had to sneak in one last kiss. The thought of not touching you kills me.”
“What’s going to happen to us?” The words speed out of me, desperate and broken. My entire being demands a response.
His dimples dart in and out, creating a swarm of shadows. “I do know what’s going to happen.”
“You do?” There’s a strong comfort in the fact Gage has already touched the nebulous future. “Will it be OK?”
He exhales—his face visibly upset.
“Skyla…” It depresses out of him.
The scenery around us breaks like glass, long shards fall like rain until the old world no longer exists and a new one appears.
The faction war has called us, and I’m about to make sure it’s done so for the very last time.
&nb
sp; Chapter 111
This is War
The ethereal plane blooms around us as the landscape fills in. The ground, the sky, the dilapidated buildings, they all wear the same washed-out tones of sepia. A fingerlike shadow falls from a lone pine and fills the expanse I’m standing in.
Gage runs over, his dimples pressed in as if he were proud of what we were about to accomplish. He sears my lips with a kiss and twirls me as if we had accidentally landed in Paradise, left our earthly worries behind for good.
“Ethereal plane doesn’t count either.” He breathes the words over my cheek. “You ready to take this?”
“Damn ready.”
“Logan is up ahead. He wants us to follow him—said he’ll signal if there’s resistance.”
“Where’s Delphinius?”
Gage nods past me at the burnt-out remnants of the bank and I pull him hard across the field without a second thought.
We find the orator himself in a partially charred building, with his enormous back turned to the door.
“How do we get to Ahava?” I cut to the chase as I burst into the room. I’m so sick of all this bullshit. I want to conquer this damn place so I can do something useful like free the people holed up in the tunnels. I try to catch my breath as I assess the fact he’s alone, conferring with a backlit clipboard similar to the one in the Transfer, the tunnels.
Delphinius straightens. His head almost hits the ceiling from the sheer volume he requires. “There will be great bloodshed this day,” he says with a sense of personalized sympathy as if he were consoling me on an intimate level.
“So we’ll have to kill.” Gage expands his chest, ready for the offensive.
“No,” Delphinius corrects, “but they will.”
“Excuse me?”
“Consume Celestra, those are the only orders.”
“Consume Celestra.” I look to Gage. I’m floored my mother would approve of this madness.