Last night, after hours of carnal bliss with my wife¸ a dream came to me, so real that I even questioned its merits while in it. I found myself at Demetri’s estate. There were throngs of children running around the manor. Balloons festooned the place. A happy birthday banner filled the main hall. Demetri patted me on the back, smiled his maleficent smile and said the word I dreaded to hear—dominion.
That horrid nightmare has cast a pall on this day, thick and welcome as the shadow of death. I know for a fact he doesn’t achieve dominion—not with me anyway.
I enter into the butterfly room and feel myself relax in the cool, dim space. The room is covered with electric blue butterflies, each with their slow, fluttering wings, pinned to the wall immovable. They weren’t always alive and fluttering. Back when this was Chloe’s house, we cut out tissue paper for hours, an entire rainbow of colors, and I helped tack them to the walls. Chloe was slowly going insane with the idea that she wouldn’t be here anymore, that death was waiting to claim her. But I had a vision that had the power to calm her. I let her know she was simply heading into a cocoon for a while, that she’d be back in another form at a later time, far more powerful than before. And, now that I reflect back on that vision, I don’t think it had as much to do with her earlier resurrection at the hands of my father as it does with the new one at the hands of Skyla’s mother. Chloe’s nefarious reign in the Transfer has only begun. I know that much is true. That’s one vision I’m not so eager to share with Skyla.
Last night’s dream comes ricocheting back with a riot of children screaming in my ear. I know for certain it was a prophecy, but I refuse to own it. If Demetri does achieve dominion, it will be at the hands of Wesley and Chloe. They’re as close to Skyla and me as two people can get—genetically speaking. The only difference is that they need to fall in love to procure the ethereal plane in question. As much as I want my newfound brother to be happy, the last person I want him falling in love with is Chloe Bishop. And the last thing I want to happen is for Demetri to achieve dominion. But according to that dream—that vision—he does exactly that.
I hop out of the butterfly room and down into Skyla’s bedroom. There’s a clatter on the other side of the wall, and I can hear Mia and Melissa having one of their daily screaming matches. Nope, for sure we can’t live here. Besides, Tad is the last person on the planet I want to be confined to close living quarters with. If I had to see his disgruntled face over breakfast each and every morning, I might be moved to fall over a spirit sword.
I teleport over to my house and head downstairs. A pair of female voices carry from the kitchen. My mother is laughing up a storm, and I hedge in enough to find her sitting at the table with Kresley. A teapot is nestled between them, and they’re murmuring happily into one another.
Nope. Not bringing Skyla here. It’s bad enough that Skyla doesn’t believe my mother cares for her, but to have Kresley here, she’s going to think my mother is trying to hook me up on the side.
Wish I knew where to go. I close my eyes and let my body lead me wherever the hell it wants. Usually when I do this I end up at Rockaway Point, at the black sand beach where Skyla and I have shared so many moments, but I don’t. Instead I find myself standing in the soupy fog, staring up at an all too familiar mansion—Demetri Edinger’s estate. I trot up the stairs and let myself in without knocking.
“You’ve come.” Edinger holds his hands out as if he’s been expecting me for a while now.
“What do you want?” I do a quick sweep of the premises. A while back, Skyla was bound to community service here. Demetri’s estate is screwed up on a paranormal level. There’s a trophy room upstairs full of creatures that can’t be slotted into any known phylum.
“The question is what do you want? Rumor has it my son has no crib for a bed.”
“Wrong son. Wrong season.” Which reminds me, there’s always Dudley’s barn.
“A barn? I won’t hear of it.”
“So you can hear my thoughts just like that, huh?”
“As can you. It’s your new power, Gage. Are you aware your powers have multiplied? There isn’t anything you can’t do if you put your mind to it.”
My heart drums with excitement because, right about now, I’d like nothing more than to fill my bank account with some cold hard cash.
“Except that.” His dark eyes hood over as if he’s genuinely sorry for me. “New bride? Down and out on your luck? It’s a tough position to be in.” He fans a hand over the premises. “There’s always room for you here. However, I’m guessing your lady love wouldn’t be in agreement.”
“That’s for damn sure.” I fall into the couch and toss a foot on the coffee table. “I’m fucked.”
“I don’t approve of the use of that language in my presence.”
“You’re more like Dudley than you know.”
“I find his name an expletive as well. How was the introduction to the chief of the Videns?”
“You mean Coach Morgan?” I shake my head at the absurdity. “It went well, smooth as can be. There’s an induction ceremony tonight. I’ll be their official commander in chief.”
“You’ll be their king, Gage. My son—the king of his own realm. Drink down the hour, the moment. Because when you are called to be king of all the Nephilim people, it will be ten times more potent, more meaningful than heading up this ragtag army of gypsies.”
Yes, that. Wes keeps yapping about some bacteria he’s engineered to enter our systems and blur the genetic marker from our cells that separates us from your everyday human. I’ve yet to see it. And as soon as I do I plan to—
I glance to Demetri and freeze my thoughts right in their track.
“It’s been real”—I hop to my feet, ready to bolt—“but I’d better get going.”
Edinger smiles that elastic ever-expanding grin of his. His fingers meet at the tips, a nervous habit I’ve seen him do a thousand times before.
“Exactly how much cold, hard cash do you suppose you’ll be needing to provide you and your bride with an apartment of your own?”
It’s tempting. Hell, it’s downright impossible to resist, but anything he doles out will be rejected by Skyla.
“Thanks, but I can’t take anything from you.”
“For what you’re going to give me one day, I’d lay the world at your feet. But it looks as if destiny has already done that.”
“That’s right. I have Skyla.”
His wicked eyes latch onto mine, and that vision comes to life around us. The room fills with children, balloons, laughter and far too much joy than this mausoleum is able to hold.
“It’s coming, Gage.” His words stretch out, warped like a dream.
I shake my head—denying the kids, the laughter, and it all disappears.
“It will never happen.”
“You can never stop destiny, Gage. Certainly you of all people should know that by now.”
A part of me knows exactly that.
Skyla’s mother insists on having us spend the night. It turns out that Tad is out of town, so, despite her cooking, it’s a little hard to say no.
Mia and Melissa bond over their new pit bull mix, the size of a pony, and Lizbeth gives the full frontal during dinner, but hey, what’s new? If I ever need an instant hard-on kill all I need to do is draw upon the memory.
Drake and Brielle talk nonstop about some strange phenomenon that’s shaking up the entire western coast of Brazil.
“Dude, they’re probably just the Northern Lights. You ever heard of that shit?” Ethan tries to calm them down.
“Those are in the fucking north.” Drake shakes his head. “I’m telling you what these people saw is inexplicable. A dozen lights tracking across the sky in a zigzag pattern—all up and down the coast for hours. Nobody knows what the hell they were.”
“It’s all over YouTube.” Brielle nods while munching on a breadstick.
For the remainder of the meal, Ethan and Emily take turns scowling at one another. I take it there’s t
rouble in emo paradise. Em has been more than supportive of my role with the Videns. I know she’ll be at the ceremony tonight. It’s nice to know I’ll have a familiar face there, other than Wes and Chloe.
I give a grim smile at the love of my life. I wish to God Skyla could be there, too.
“Everything okay?” She gives my knee a quick squeeze.
I lean in and whisper, “I was just wondering if butterflies blushed.”
“What?” A string of giggles rumble from her chest. I love it when she laughs like that—preferably when she’s naked beneath me. Skyla and I have been on one long honeymoon with no end in sight. I can’t believe I’m living the dream with Skyla Messenger—Oliver—Mrs. Gage Oliver. A dopey grin comes to my face. I die every day in happiness with Skyla by my side.
“I can’t stop thinking about the things I’m going to do to you later.” My mouth is practically in her ear as I say it. “Believe me, those blue butterflies will be blood-red by midnight.” I slip my hand between her thighs.
“Gage Oliver. Now you have me blushing.” She gives me a playful swat before dipping her lips close to me. “I might have a little treat for you, too. Let’s just say cowboy boots are involved, or, in my case, cowgirl.” She winks over at Bree.
Drake and Brielle wolf down the eggs and bacon we’re enjoying. Lizbeth declared it breakfast-for-dinner night, and so far it’s been a hit. It’s not roasted duck in a red wine reduction sauce, but it sure beats the tension between Skyla and my mother.
“So when do you officially move into the trailer?” Skyla asks Bree. She takes a few gulps from her water, and the sight of her lips collapsing over the rim of the glass, the beads of condensation dripping down her cleavage, get me going. If she keeps this up, we won’t make it to the butterfly room—the laundry room maybe.
“It smells like shit.” Bree makes a face. “We’re letting it air out.”
Drake has been painting his ass off for two days straight. Brielle wanted every room in that prefabbed house a blinding hot pink. It looks like a bordello. Drake is going to have to hand his balls in before walking through the door each night. Although, if Skyla and I had our own place, I’d gladly paint it an entire rainbow of colors just to please her. In that way I envy Drake and Brielle. Now there’s something I never thought would happen.
Their baby boy walks over and crawls into Bree’s lap, and Drake slings his arm over her shoulders, creating the perfect family huddle. There’s another reason I envy Drake and Brielle. They already have something Skyla and I never will, a child.
“So what about you two?” Brielle lobs her kid into Lizbeth’s lap like he were a volleyball. “Where are you two shacking up these days? I heard Harrison booted you out on your shiny white asses. Welcome to the world, baby girl.” She blows Skyla a kiss.
“That he did,” she sings.
Lizbeth taps the table. “You’re both welcome here as long as you like.”
“I bet Daddy would have something to say about that.” Melissa sneers at Skyla. “Try to keep the grunting down. We need to be up at six.”
“Melissa!” Lizbeth snaps and startles the baby nursing in her arms. “What Skyla and Gage do is perfectly natural. How do you think each of you came to be in this world?” She says that last part in baby talk right in Misty and Beau’s nipple-filled faces. Rumor has it, Beau just uses her as a chew toy these days. “You are the precious handy work of God!” she bellows. She’s still pretty rigorous about shouting positive affirmations into the faces of her children, at least those under five. “You were wrought of unimaginable pleasure!” Everyone groans, including me. The last thing I want to think about is Tad and Lizbeth “wroughting” in pleasure—it’s unimaginable all right.
“Gage and I will be staying here,” Skyla shouts above the racket.
“Good.” Emily twists into me. “That means we’ll have a chance to get to know each other better. I’ve got plans for us, Gage.”
Ethan openly scowls at me, and, for the first time, I get the feeling I’m the reason they’re pissed at each other.
Skyla gives an indignant huff. “You’d better watch it, Em”—she snips playfully—“there are some things that belong to me that I will never share—my husband happens to be one of them.”
Emily’s face hardens to flint. Her features bleed dry as she gives that eerie glassy expression that only Emily Morgan can.
“People are the most slippery when you’re trying to keep them from the rest of the world. Hold on a little tighter, Skyla, and see where he ends up.”
The room falls silent. Ethan leaves the table.
Skyla leans forward, clutching at her dinner knife as if she’s about to put it to use.
“He’ll end up with me, Em.” She twirls the blade in her hand like a baton. “Just try to tell me anything different.”
The baby starts to wail.
No one says a word.
After that wild ride of a dinner, we move the party to the butterfly room. Skyla said she wanted to change into something more comfortable, so I busy myself with arranging the triple layer of comforters we hauled up here into a makeshift bed. I know for a fact my back will feel as if someone slit it open and squeezed in a lemon come morning, but right about now I don’t give a shit.
We have enough pillows to create a three hundred and sixty degree fortress, so I do. I take off my jeans and T-shirt and lie there naked as the day I was born. I believe it’s time to make a few butterflies blush. The room is dim with the exception of the glowing wings. The transom to the closet opens, and in crawls Skyla. She springs to her feet wearing that short leopard print robe of hers I love so much. My eyes track down her long creamy legs and, holy wow, she’s got on a pair of powder blue cowboy boots.
“Hope you don’t mine.” She knocks her heels together. “They’re on loan from Brielle.”
“Nope. Don’t mind.” My dick starts to rise giving its own sense of approval.
“Are you ready, cowboy?” She shakes her shoulders until the robe drops to her feet, and she steps right out of it. Skyla stands before me gloriously naked, and I drink down her every curve.
“For you?” I clasp my hand over hers and pull her down to me. “Anytime, girl.” My lips find hers, and my hands ride up and down her silken body. Skyla has perfect round hips, and the sweetest, softest ass known to man. I bring my lips to her left nipple. Every inch of her is candy for my soul.
“I’m in charge tonight, cowboy.” She straddles me, sitting square over my chest with her sweet spot giving my skin a hot, honeyed kiss. Skyla turns around until her beautiful bare bottom is staring me in the face.
“Full moon tonight.” I run my fingers over her tight ass. Skyla has the body of an athlete.
“Full moon, huh?” She looks at me from over her shoulder, and her long curls drip down her back slow and seductive. “You ready for a midnight rodeo?”
“You riding?”
“I think you’re getting the picture.”
Skyla rolls a condom over me, achingly slow, sexy as hell. And as excited as I am for the rodeo, a bleak smile comes and goes. I’ll never have her any other way. No thanks to Demetri, my wife’s genitals are forever banished from touching mine without a layer of protective latex buffering our desire.
“You ready for a little reverse cowgirl? Skyla lifts herself off my chest just enough for me to see every nook and cranny I’ve ever dreamed about. Skyla doesn’t wait for an answer, she simply settles her body over mine nice and slow.
“Wow, Oliver.” She lets out a hard groan, and I watch as her head rotates slowly over her neck. “You’re like mounting a telephone pole.”
I hold back a laugh. “Don’t hurt yourself, sweetie.” Although a greedy part of me wouldn’t mind a little discomfort on her end just to have her mount me this way. I’m selfish as hell when it comes to having myself inside her. An aching groan expels from my chest as her body gives my dick a tight hug. I can come right now, that’s how good it feels.
“You’re worth t
he pain, Gage.” Her body sinks over mine, slow and hot as the sun. Her quickened gasps and intermittent hiccups of pleasure are enough to turn my dick to steel.
“Shit, Skyla.” I dig my head back into the pillow.
Her body slips the final few inches, and she lets out a small cry.
“We did it,” she pants triumphantly. Skyla leans her head back, and I dig my fingers into her bed of loose curls. Skyla rides me slow and smooth, rough and hard. This intense lust I have for her, this bionic force of pleasure she’s eliciting, surges through me with a wild roar. I pull her in tight and come for weeks. My body throbs into hers for what feels like hours until my bones beg to shatter.
Everything about her has the ability to shatter me.
I’d shatter for Skyla again and again.
The butterflies blushed after all. Their tips turned bright pink, outlining their blue frames with fire, but, in truth, I willed them to become that way. Edinger was right. Every single day my powers are growing stronger. I’m developing new ways to do things, new ways to move, everything is faster. I can control the outcome of when a Professor says a paper is due, rearrange my lab partner so that I have a dream team that assures an easy A. But my back still feels like shit on fire. I take it Demetri doesn’t want me anywhere near the field. He did say he’d give me anything. Maybe all I have to do is ask? I’d love to be on the green with Cooper next season. Coop. I frown into the darkness. He wanted far more information than I was ready to give him at dinner the other night. If I’m going to do this thing with Demetri, I need to keep it lower than low. That threat he doled out has tattooed itself over my grey matter. Skyla falls asleep in my arms. I can still see myself rehashing the terms of my agreement with wickedness.
It was Wesley and me in the Transfer. My head was a wreck after discovering who I really was.
The scene plays out again in my mind.
“And if I break faith with the Barricade—and flood the world with your filthy secrets?” I wanted to laugh because deep down I was sure I’d tell Skyla.