Celestra Forever After

by Addison Moore

“About Host”—I growl into Drake—“spill.”

  “Shit if I know. Her mom mentioned it a few times—said they were part of some legacy—that they were oh so important.” He rolls his eyes while mocking the grandmother of his child. He leans back and squints. “And who the hell cares? Why is everything always so complicated with you? If it’s not a fucking war, it’s the latest island gossip. Just sit back and enjoy life for once. It’s not like all of human existence is riding on your shoulders. Stop and smell the roses would you?”

  Em and Bree glance up, and I head over without giving Drake and his bad mental breath another thought. He’s just cranky because he most likely spawned another child last night with Em. And, as fate would have it, Brielle is probably knocked up, too. He’s just jealous that I’ve got my life on track and things are moving in the right direction for Gage and me.

  “Sit down, Messenger.” Emily says it dry as toast, and I do as I’m told, landing smack between her and Bree. “I had a burning vision.” She slides a napkin over to me covered in chicken scratch that looks a hell of a lot like an explosive inferno.

  “Crap, what’s that?” Everyone knows the only true way to kill a Celestra is by fire, and God knows I’m not immune to the flames.

  “It means I can’t rest until I get it all out and show it to the person it was meant for.”

  “That would be you.” Brielle nods with her eyes fixed on mine. “Brace yourself, Skyla.”

  Maybe this is it. The moment my existence gets severed in two. I mean it’s already happened with Logan, but in the back of my mind I’ve felt something else coming, something barbaric ready to knock me off my pedestal. The other celestial shoe is about to drop. I can feel it. Its shadow has been lurking over me like an anvil these past few weeks. I glance over at Mia and Melissa still bickering in the kitchen—Drake belching into a bowl of cereal, and Mom sprawled out on the couch with her boobs on display while being milked by two different beings—and soak in the final moments of life as I know it.

  “What is it, Emily?” I stare down at the errant scribbles. “What does it mean?”

  “That’s you, Skyla.” She points to a flowering rose before moving her finger around the maddening scrawl. “You’re about to fall”—she points into the inferno, then moves her finger lower still—“right into the mouth of the beast. And, this time, you’re going to drag the entire world with you.” She points to the open jowls of a horrible, demonic-looking creature with knife-sharp teeth, and a blaze shooting out from its mouth. The beast looks vaguely familiar with its serpentine body, its scaly skin, wings of a raven, eyes like fire—it’s a dragon. Is this the dragon at Host—Omen?

  Brielle clicks her tongue. “That sounds like a real shit storm if you ask me.”

  “Oh, it will be.” Em gravels it out. Her eyes glint to mine. “Whatever this is, one thing is for sure—a decision you make today will effect all of humanity forever.”

  Em and Bree stare into me wide eyed.

  “Well, then.” I swallow hard. “I’ll just get back to bed and avoid the entire mess all together.”

  My phone goes off. It’s a text from Gage.

  You up for a day at Rockaway?

  A flood of relief fills me. There’s nothing more safe and sane than relaxing in my boyfriend’s loving arms.

  I text back. I’m in.

  Brielle peers over at my phone. “So much for crawling back to bed.”

  “Oh, that’s still very much the plan.” I give a curt smile to Em and Bree. “Only now things just got a little more interesting.”

  I’m so anxious to get the hell out of the Landon landfill, I tell Gage I’ll meet him at his house. He’s just finishing up with his volunteer coaching at the local Pee Wee football league. He’s been there all summer doing some assisting, but today was his last day since school has started up, and he has a pretty rigorous practice schedule of his own.

  Brielle helps stuff me into her red, white, and blue bikini, a true testament to the United States of Vagina, considering there’s not much to it. Gage may not have seen it the other night, but I’ll be damned if I let him get away with that crap today. I take off like a bat out of hell, or rather an angel out of Landonville—babyville—boobville, but considering they’re all technically angels residing there as well, it doesn’t quite have the same punch.

  By the time I make my way to the Paragon Estates, Dr. O and Emma’s cars are already gone for the day. In fact, it’s only Gage’s truck that’s neatly tucked up on the driveway, so it looks as if it’s all systems go for Operation Seduce an Oliver.

  I give a brisk knock at the door, sucking in my gut and sticking out my chest just waiting for those gorgeous blue eyes to fall into my cleavage.

  The door swings open, only it’s not the Oliver I was expecting, its—

  “Logan?”

  My heart drops into my stomach. He’s tall and bright-eyed, and something is definitely off.

  “Liam.” He puts his hand out, and I gingerly take it.

  “Oh, God.” I’m completely without words. My knees shake, my insides liquefy at the thought of who else might be in there. “Is Logan here?” I hold my breath without meaning to. He’s got the same sweet eyes, same bone structure as Logan, but he looks like a bad boy through and through—more Brielle’s type than mine. Then again, Brielle would be lucky to trade Drake for Liam.

  “No.” His shoulders drop, and he looks instantly sad for me. “You must be Skyla.”

  A moment of silence bumps by as we take each other in.

  “How do you know?” Deep down, I suspect it’s a foolish question, but, selfishly, I want him to tell me.

  “Logan never stops talking about you.” He gives a tiny grin and a bloom of sadness rips through me. God, he looks so much like his brother. “Don’t worry, he left out all the good parts.” He gives a little wink. “You want to come in?”

  “Um, no, that’s okay. Is Gage here?” I suck in my lower lip, suddenly self-conscious of my patriotic standing. I foolishly charged to the door with nothing on but my two-piece. I tried telling Brielle that wearing the American flag as a glorified pasty spelled out all kinds of bad juju.

  “He stepped away. But he should be back any minute.” He gazes out toward the driveway. “Is that the Mustang?” His dimples ignite. Liam is the perfect combo of both Logan and Gage.

  Before I can answer, he’s already molesting the grill. He walks a circle around it, eyeing it as though it were a woman before hopping behind the wheel. The Mustang was his father’s car, maybe even his. Logan gifted it to me for my birthday the year I got my license. Every time I get inside it feels as though Logan is wrapping his arms around me, taking care of me, keeping me safe with three thousand pounds of steel.

  “What’s this for?” He plucks at the industrial sized container of margarine Brielle talked me into bringing along on the fiasco.

  “Oh, um…” Crap. I reach over and pluck it out of the car as if it were incriminating evidence. “I was just going to wash Gage’s truck, and I thought I might rub it on, you know, catch some rays in the process.” Perfect. He’s going to think I’m a freak.

  “Really?” He gets out and takes it from me. “I’ll give you a hand.” He pops the lid off and scoops out a giant yellow ball. “I’ll get your back,” he offers and proceeds to glide it over my shoulders before I can protest.

  “Oh no, really. It’s okay.”

  Before I know it, I’m doing the downward dog with my hands spread over the hood while Liam indulges me in one hell of a massage.

  Dear God up in heaven, I pray Gage is miles from home. If he catches a glimpse of this, we may never recover.

  “Here’s Gage now,” he says, giving a wave from over his shoulder.

  “Shit,” I seethe.

  I glance back to see Gage’s eyes round out for a moment—an amused smile cropping up on his lips.

  “I see you’ve met Liam.” He holds back a grin.

  Crap. I run over like a bullet and wrap my arms arou
nd him.

  “I swear, you’re the only Oliver I want buttering me up.”

  His dimples break loose, and it’s the same feeling I get at the crest of a roller coaster just before the free fall.

  “You ready for Rockaway?” He steels a quick kiss off my lips.

  I lose myself in his steely gaze. My tongue runs over my lips in a quick revolution. My stomach bottoms out, and I want to throw my hands in the air and scream because hell, yes, I’m ready for Rockaway.

  “I’m ready for anything and everything you’re willing to give me.”

  God’s honest truth, right there.

  I glance back at Liam, Logan’s almost twin, as he continues to gawk at my car, and my heart sinks a little.

  Heartbreak comes in colors, mostly greys and blues, but love comes in a burst—a rainbow exploding over you like confetti.

  I look back to Gage.

  And lust, well, it’s safe to say that tonight lust comes in cobalt, in raven-colored hair, skin as hard and pale as marble under the kiss of an anemic sky.

  “Come here.” I lure him over with a curl of my finger—my toes digging into the driveway.

  “Everything go okay with your mom?”

  I give a slight nod. My celestial mother all but gave her blessing, but it was Lizbeth, my earthly mom, who opened a pathway that I thought could never be. She healed me in so many ways and taught me the truth about love and loss, about what comes next and how important it is to keep your heart open.

  I press my hand on his chest like touching heated steel. His lids hood low. That sexy grin presses in over his face, and I can feel our bodies magnetizing like two trains that are about to collide.

  And they will.

  At Rockaway.

  Gage

  The sand at Rockaway glows sky blue as the fog illuminates the glossy shore. It’s too cold out for a swim or even for a bathing suit, but I’ll be the last to tell Skyla that. She’s looking hot enough to set the entire island on fire with that homage to the grand old flag. I’ll probably never look at the glorified banner again without getting a hard-on.

  “It was nice to finally meet Liam,” she says it quiet because we both know what question lingers just beneath that. She’s naked for all practical purposes wearing the hottest damn bikini I’ve ever seen in my life, the protective hedge dangles between the girls right along with the heart Logan gave her for her birthday. It’s Logan who’s here with us, nestled between two of Skyla’s most tender body parts as if proving a point.

  “Liam was there when I woke up this morning. I had a chance to meet him before I left for practice.” I shake my head. “Meeting my long dead uncle.” I give a chuckle. “Head trip.” I bite down hard over my lip because a part of me doesn’t want to say his name. “Logan wasn’t there.” Easy as ripping off a bandage. I wanted him to be. Hell, I was pissed he wasn’t.

  Skyla takes a breath. “How was the last day of practice?” She perks up a little as I park on the shore. We get out and start heading toward the grass shack I constructed out of old palm fronds. Small and intimate—most importantly, built for two.

  “Practice was great. I can’t get enough of those little guys. There are a few I’m positive we’ll see in the pros one day. Some of the moms came by afterward and gave me a gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory. Too bad I don’t know any girls who might want to go.” I rattle her hand, and Skyla bubbles with a laugh that echoes right over the crashing waves.

  Great. Make her think you’re willing to step out on her. Bonehead. And here I brought the ring with me because God knows I want to make Skyla much more than just some girl I take out for cheesecake.

  “You’re terrible, Oliver.” She pulls me down to the mouth of our love shack and lands in my lap.

  The waves break over the shore, loud as thunder, with their violent white walls crushing over the sand. The ocean growls out a threat as if it were roaring out a warning for me not to propose. To hell with it. My lips are quivering with the question already.

  “I am terrible.” I take a gentle bite out of her ear. Skyla tastes like strawberries dipped in sugar. “You know what I thought about when I took off from practice this morning?”

  “How you wish you got the numbers of all those hot MILFs?” She spins into me as a few stray curls spray over her face like tendrils.

  “You think you’re funny, don’t you, Messenger?” I give her a quick tickle, and she jumps in my lap. “I was thinking that I’d like to coach the little guys one day. You know, maybe ours.” My body goes numb. She’s so damn beautiful, and now, I went there. Skyla and I had never talked about things like this, but a part of me wants to go there, go everywhere with her.

  “Yes.” She touches her forehead to mine. “God, yes. I want to have an entire brownie troop with you. You’re gorgeous and deserve to be immortalized through an entire legion of miniature people.” She pulls back and freezes. It’s the word immortalized that threw her. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m a realist.” I might have a decade left—two if I’m lucky, but I’m not.

  “You’re lucky.” She sinks into me as the smile drops right off her face because she heard me. “I swear to you, Gage, you’re not going to die. I’m making sure of that myself.”

  “Skyla.” Damn. I know for a fact there’s no way to talk her out of doing anything she’s already wrapped her head around. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to let you do something foolish to try and spare me. We both know where this train is headed.”

  A sly smile creeps up her cheek as she offers a quick glance to my crotch. “I know exactly where this train is headed, Oliver, and believe me when I say the Paragon mortuary is decades if not an entire century, away.” Skyla outlines my lips with the pad of her finger as her features contort in a bite of grief. “And by then, I’ll be right there with you. It’s me and you forever, remember?”

  The ocean roars like a starved lion threatening to eat her words for her. I’m not sure what’s possessing her to say them to begin with. Logan is already nipping at my heels. I can feel him breathing down my neck, ushering me toward the morgue like we were running a play.

  “Forever.” I nod. That was my ridiculous battle cry, and now here we are staring down the barrel of a ticking clock set at five to midnight. “I’ll always love you. I promise.” My lips find hers, and we linger over one another in a sweet kiss blessed by the Paragon dew.

  “I want to be with you always, Gage.” Her forehead wrinkles with despair. Her lips swell a dark shade of ruby like she might cry. “I want to go through all of the stages and ages that life has to offer with you.” A tear trickles down her cheek. “I want to see what you see. Do the things you do. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here by your side.” I swallow hard, fighting my own tears, and I’m half afraid she’s going to beat me to the punch. “There’s not a moment of the day I don’t want to spend with you.” She wraps her arms tight around me and buries her head in my chest. “Gage, I want to live with you.”

  “I want all that, too, Skyla.” I gently lift her chin until her watery eyes look straight into mine, and I play back every highlight that we’ve shared from the moment we met, imprinting it from my heart to hers as a vision. The first time we touched at the bowling alley, our first kiss under a blanket of fog much like this one, those countless West Paragon days, holding hands on campus, stealing a kiss under the vicious mural of Cerberus—an entire montage of our time in the butterfly room, the day I lit them up from the inside and now they’ve never stopped glowing. I end with the war, with Skyla and me fighting elbow to elbow, the day we tossed the flowers into the ocean, right here at Rockaway, after Logan’s memorial.

  Her eyes widen into mine. Her chest pumps as she imparts her own vision into my eyes. There we are at graduation, kissing under Cerberus once again, finishing off our high school careers filled with love in our hearts for each other, much like we have now.

  “And here we are,” she whispers right over my lips, and
I take the kiss. I reach up and accidently brush my fingers over her chest, grazing her rock hard nipple. I run my hands over her arms, and her skin is prickled with goose bumps. “So can we do it?” Skyla gets on her knees, and I do the same. “Can we move in together?” She nods as if it were the most rational idea, not that what I’m about to do is anymore levelheaded.

  “You want to move into the dorm?” A smile cinches up my cheek because I’m pretty sure that’s not what she meant.

  “Maybe.” Her iced fingers travel up my shirt. Her legs are parted just right, and I can’t help sinking a glance.

  “Skyla, I know this is crazy.” My hand dips into my pocket, and I warm the ring with my fingers. “I’m not sure what I’m doing, or how in the world I’m going to support the two of us, but a part of me wants to shelve all that right now.” It’s not like me. I’m practical, rational—and proposing to Skyla right now is anything but practical or rational. “You’re so beautiful.” My voice cracks as I take both her hands in mine. “Skyla, I have loved you from before we met.” I bear into her, and Skyla’s lips quiver. “I promise, I will love you straight into eternity—but for the rest of my time here on earth, would you do me the honor of being my wife?” I pull my grandmother’s ring out and hold it between us—the diamond glittering in this dull light.

  “Gage.” Her eyes drop to the ring. Her lips press together as if holding back tears. “Oh my, God, yes!” Skyla wraps her arms around my neck and crashes her mouth to mine at a million loving miles an hour. I knock us back onto the sand, and my shirt lifts just enough for our stomachs to sear over one another. A groan rips from the both of us, and we share a laugh, our teeth scraping in the process.

  “I love you.” I dip a kiss just shy of her ear.

  “I love you, Gage Oliver, and I can’t wait to be your wife.”

  The ring glides through my fingers as I hold it up for her to inspect. “My grandmother’s. Hope you don’t mind. But it’s special to me, and I want you to have it.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she says as I slip it on her finger.