The Dragon and the Rose

  The crowd breaks out in a mild applause as everyone resumes their conversations. I glare over at Demetri.

  “What was that about?” I hiss. Before he can answer, Lizbeth swoops in with her tongue wagging.

  “Is this a gag?” She cocks her head. Her feet shift from side to side as if she were dancing.

  Mom comes up beside her. “No, I assure you, it’s the God’s honest truth.” Her entire person is set in kill mode as she glares into Demetri. “It’s nice to know you had the tact to confer with Barron and me before making such a public spectacle of us all.”

  “Wait a minute.” Lizbeth is putting the procreating pieces together. There’s a twitch in her eye that I’ve seen her get when she’s irritated with Tad. “Are you trying to tell me that you two—” She swings her fingers between Demetri and my mother. “Oh, my, God.” Her face turns a strange shade of green. “Well, I never knew. No one ever said anything to me.”

  “Nobody knew until just a few weeks ago,” Skyla assures her. “Didn’t I tell you he’s nothing but a home wrecker?”

  “Are you kidding?” Her face brightens as she flies to his side. “My, God. Do you know what this means? You’re family! We’re family!” She throws her arms around his neck and dangles from his body like an ornament. “I mean, we’ve always felt like family.”

  “Who’s family?” A voice chirps from behind. It’s just Candace. My heart jumps at the sight of her. I do a double take and find not only Candace here from the great beyond but Skyla’s father, Nathan, as well.

  “Daddy!” Skyla hops onto her father and holds on tight.

  Mom leans in with her hand pressed to her forehead. “If you don’t mind, I think we’ll call it a night.”

  “What about cake?” Lizbeth seems troubled by the idea of my parents missing the grand finale.

  “I’m sure it’s delicious, but I feel a migraine coming on.”

  I give both her and my father a quick hug. “I’m sorry,” I whisper in his ear.

  “Don’t get in over your head.” He gives my back a gentle pat. Dad always knows the right thing to say, only, this time, I’m afraid his words might have come a little too late.

  I watch as they take off before reverting my attention to Skyla’s unexpected family reunion. Lizbeth is holding both of Nathan’s hands much to my “father’s” curious approval. Of course, he approves of her holding her dead husband—he’s the reason he’s dead to begin with. Asshole.

  “Gage.” Candace tries for a smile but misses by a light year. “May I have a word with you?” She threads her arm in mine without waiting for a response. Skyla tries to join in, but her mother raises a finger. “If you don’t mind, I’d like this handsome man to myself for a few brief minutes.”

  She tried for kindness, but her curt tone deflected that with ease. Candace and I set out deep into the yard, walking through curtains of billowing fog until I’m questioning which plane I’m in. We head toward the woods, and she pulls away, glaring at me with those glowing pale eyes as the evergreens rise around her like hundred foot soldiers. The moon hits her just right, and, if she wasn’t so bitter, I could almost fool myself into believing it’s Skyla.

  Her eyes slit to white lines. “I should call you to court for that little water world stunt,” she hisses. “Do you know how dangerous it is to manipulate Mother Nature? Don’t think for a moment that every meteorologist in the area didn’t note that unnatural phenomenon. Are you trying to endanger your people? Don’t answer that. It is against the laws of our people to abuse powers in a hostile manner.”

  “Hostile? I wasn’t being hostile.” Crap. “I apologize. I was simply trying to impress your daughter—I swear. She’s my princess. I want to give her the world, literally.” God’s honest truth right there.

  “You took her brazenly in the open. The heavenlies were all astir, gawking at the two of you like a pair of animals from the wild kingdom. Is that any way to treat your princess—my daughter? You are making a mockery out of Skyla for far more reasons than she is apprised. Aren’t you?” I can feel the visceral dissatisfaction vaporizing off her like steam.

  A million thoughts run through my mind—a million ways to apologize—and something tells me none of them will ever be enough.

  “Let’s call a spade a spade,” I say instead. “You’re not that interested in the fact I’m married to your daughter. You resent the idea that I’m my father’s son. And let’s not forget what this is really about—you resent the fact I’m not Logan.”

  “You said it, not me,” she seethes.

  My heart sinks. Then in a sharp reversal I give a crooked grin. A new sense of resolve grips me, and I’m determined to fight for what’s mine.

  I take a step in. “Too damn bad. Skyla is my wife. I am a Fem, Candace. You and I both know you had far more of a hand in landing me where I am today than I ever did.”

  Her chin lifts as if my words converged into the form of a hand and slapped her. I realize I should be fearing for my balls, but a part of me is cheering on this new revolution. Life can only dole out so many left turns before I dictate where the hell I want to go.

  “Sometimes, Gage, I’m compelled to do things for reasons I neither understand nor approve of. You happen to fall into both of those categories.” Her jawline redefines itself, hard as marble in this defused light.

  “I’m going to take good care of your daughter, Candace. You may be right about a lot of things, but you’re wrong about me. I’m good for Skyla. I’m good for Celestra and for the Nephilim as a whole.”

  “You are more trouble than you’ll ever realize. You are going to break her heart, and then you’re going to poison your own people. You have an insatiable hunger for power. I can see it in your eyes. Pride has come to roost in your soul. It’s dusting off the cellar floor, taking root in the darkest corner of your being. Pride always comes before the fall. Why is it that you serpents never learn? My daughter will never be enough for you.”

  “I’m going to prove you wrong.”

  “You won’t.” She raises a hand and evaporates with a quiver of lightning.

  Rain starts in heavy, unforgivably hard, as every last guest runs into the house. I catch up with Skyla in the kitchen just as the last of the partygoers makes their way to the door.

  “Where’s your dad?”

  “Upstairs, helping to tuck Misty into bed. Ironic, right?” Her lids grow heavy. “It was incredible to see everyone tonight. Did you have a good time?”

  “More or less.” I frown as Demetri heads this way.

  “I’ll see you soon.” He pulls me into a half-hug, but I remain rigid. “Skyla.” He nods. “It’s a pleasure as always.”

  “Why don’t you hang around?” she offers. “The man you murdered is probably on his way down right now. I’m sure there are tons of things you two can catch up on like whose family you’re ruining now.” She blinks a smile.

  I give her hand a squeeze.

  Good job.

  It gets better. She squeezes right back.

  “Or maybe he won’t be right down. Maybe he and my mother are busy?” She bites her lip, holding back a laugh. “My parents were always—how do I put this—affectionate.”

  Demetri steps in—his eyes immovable as stone over hers. “I’m quite familiar with your parents, Skyla. I was good friends with them both. Your mother and I go way back.” He tips his chin to her. “Even if the heavenlies—your father himself—have forgiven me, I see it goes against your nature to do so. Therefore, I do not ask nor expect that grace from you. But I will say this, there will come a time when you will ask my forgiveness, and know even now that you already have it.” He bows into us. “Goodnight.” He propels toward the door like a cannon.

  “Ignore him,” I whisper. But her eyes are still glued to the empty hole that leads into the night. I step in front of her to block her view of the door and kiss her. “You ready for your gift?”

  “Oh, right.” She shakes her head as if trying to evict his words from her m
ind. “Um—Bree may have ruined the surprise.” She wags her finger in the air. “You, Gage Oliver, are a naughty, naughty boy.”

  “Yeah, well, when I told her I bought a box of rainbow-colored condoms I was simply trying to throw her off track.” I hold her eyes a moment. “They’re glow in the dark.”

  Her head falls back with a laugh. I’m only half kidding about the gift. I have exactly that and more for her.

  “Actually my gift is a work in progress. I hope you don’t mind.” After Candace’s admonishment I might want to hold off a bit.

  “Not at all.” Her fingers bounce over my features. “Besides, I’m looking at my gift.”

  “Good night you two.” Nathan comes over and gives Skyla a heartfelt embrace—the tight and desperate kind that a father gives a daughter when they’re separated by dimensional planes. “You take care of my baby girl.” He narrows in on me. “She’s more precious than gold, don’t you ever forget that.” It comes out more of a threat than a request. I guess I’m not racking up any points with either of her deceased parents tonight.

  “I won’t.” I don’t take my eyes off Skyla as I say it.

  The last of the guests take off, and soon it’s just Skyla, and her mother and sisters putting things away in the kitchen.

  “Why don’t you two get to bed?” Lizbeth dries her hands on a rag before shooing us away. “I can manage the rest of this in the morning. I’m sure you have some special gifts you’d like to exchange in private,” she trills those final few words in song.

  “That’s disgusting.” Melissa nearly barfs as she pulls a soda from the fridge. “We all know what they’re doing up there. Can’t you find somewhere else to hump like sex-starved animals?”

  Where have I heard that before.

  “They’re newlyweds.” Lizbeth rolls her eyes at the accusation. “That’s their job. They’re getting to know each other on an intimate level. They’re simply responding to physiological cues that demand they populate the planet. Believe me, there is nothing disgusting about it.”

  “My mom is right.” Mia buries her fists in her hips. “It’s not any more disgusting than what Drake and Brielle have been doing all along. And what about Ethan and Chloe and now Emily? There’s a reason they call Drake and Ethan the gigolos of Paragon.”

  “That’s different.” Melissa counters without explanation.

  “So let me get this straight, it’s okay for your brothers to have a fuck festival, but my married sister can’t sleep with her husband?”

  “Mia!” Skyla and her mother shout like they were trying to put out a fire with their voices.

  “This is serious,” Mia snaps. “There has been a double standard in this house long enough. Maybe I should start bringing home boys just to balance out the scales!”

  “Mia.” Lizbeth cuts her with her tone—sharp and quick as a throwing star. “Don’t even talk like that.”

  “Who are you going to bring, Mia?” Melissa taunts with a nasty smile smeared over her face. She really does look like a female version of Drake—sort of the way Chloe and Brody have that creepy twin thing going. With Giselle and me it’s just plain cute. I give a smug look of satisfaction as I watch the rest of the show. “Are you going to bring that old dude whose dog you stole? You can’t even get a guy unless you steal something from him.”

  “You would know all about stealing, wouldn’t you? That’s how you got Gabe!”

  “He chose me. Get over it!”

  “Yeah? I also saw him choose you to go behind the trailer with tonight.” She glances down at Melissa’s dirty legs. “Are those fresh grass stains? Gee, I wonder what you were doing down on your knees!”

  Skyla lets out a yelp and ushers them both upstairs.

  “Girls, we have a lot of ground to cover about boys come morning!” Lizbeth shouts after them. “Why can’t they all be easy like Skyla?” She shakes her head exasperated. “I mean, not once did Skyla ever sneak a boy over. Not once did I have to feel like I had to do a room check just to be sure she didn’t have a boy spending the night.” She softens toward me. “But that’s because she had a sweet boyfriend like you. You’re a true prince, you know that, Gage Oliver?” She gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “You are a pleasure to have around. Skyla couldn’t be a luckier girl.” She pulls back with an uneasy look on her face. “So, it’s true, huh? Demetri is really your biological father?”

  “I’m afraid so.” I’m more pissed than afraid.

  “That’s just incredible.” Her lashes flutter as she tries to keep the tears at bay. “I’m so happy for you.” She gives my arm a congratulatory pat as if I’ve just won the genetic lottery, and I may have, but that’s not the point. “You really are a prince.”

  We say goodnight, and I pause on the stairs. It’s a shame that Skyla’s mothers both have such polarizing views of me. But, then, again, Lizbeth doesn’t know about all the nights I spent with Skyla while we were still at West. She doesn’t know about the butterfly room or Logan or Marshall’s visits. She thinks I’m a prince because she doesn’t know the dirty truth of who I really am and what I’ve set out to do against her daughter. Candace knows every last bit, and she can’t stand the sight of me.

  But all of those terrible things she said about me were wrong. I do love Skyla.

  In fact, I’m heading up right now to show her exactly how much.

  The room is dark save for the flickering light of a candle as I slip inside. There’s soft music playing in the background, and the subtle hint of cinnamon fills the air.

  “Is that you?” She calls out from the bathroom.

  “If you is me, then that would be correct.”

  “Ha, ha. Lock the door.”

  I’ll do one better. I stare hard at the dresser until it seals itself over the entry. I nod at the sky as the room illuminates with lightning—the thunder does its best rendition of Happy Birthday.

  “That’s freaky, Oliver!” she shouts from behind the door.

  I’m amazed at how fast my powers have grown—how fast I’ve come to appreciate them. Last week I took an exam in Lit, and when I drew a blank on the final essay I simple froze time and read each student’s work until I had formulated exactly what I thought the professor might want to hear. I scored an A and destroyed the curve. A couple of days ago, I nearly forgot all about my budding tradition of gifting Skyla with flowers each Monday in hopes she’ll come to love the brutal start to the week, and I willed a patch of wildflowers to blossom into a bushel just before midnight. I’ll never have to spend a dime at the florist again. And, of course, who can forget that spin the bottle showdown with Logan. He still hasn’t confessed how he was able to do that—not that we’ve been talking all that much lately.

  “Are you ready for me?” Her voice trails to me sweeter than any perfume.

  I evict Logan out of my mind like pushing him off a cliff.

  “Ready and willing to make this your best birthday ever.”

  “Close your eyes,” she sings.

  “Done, but only for a few seconds. You’re too beautiful for me not to look at.”

  “Cheat.” Skyla picks up my hands by the fingertips. She’s keeping a good distance, and now my curiosity is piqued. “I know you said the butterfly room isn’t your favorite place to sleep because of your back, but I couldn’t think of any other way to gift you this without spending at least a couple of hours there. Would you mind teleporting us up?”

  “Done again.” The air is cooler up here. A blue glow covers my lids from the illuminated wings of the butterflies.

  “Open.”

  With our hands still conjoined, I pull back and take her in. Skyla has painted a brown dress onto her body, a heart shaped bust line that drips down and hugs her every curve right down to her thighs.

  She runs her finger through the goop covering her flesh and plunges her finger into her mouth.

  “Mmm…” she moans. “Tastes almost as sweet as you.” Skyla picks up my finger and runs it from her belly button to that spot
my mouth waters for before plunging it into my mouth. “It’s midnight, Gage. Happy birthday, big boy.”

  Chocolate.

  My heart pounds with approval. My dick does its best to let me know I’m far too dressed for the occasion.

  “I like where this is going.”

  “I put a tarp down and the quilt on top is so old I want to burn it so I thought why not? When we’re done painting it with our bodies, I thought we could take it down to Rockaway one day and have a bonfire, just you and me.”

  “Just you and me is my favorite combination.” I run my finger down her body in the shape of an S. “Would you mind if the gift I have for you waits? I think it’s time for dessert.”

  “You are my gift.” Skyla pulls off my shirt in one svelte move. “And I want you right now.” Her fingers work my jeans until I’m kicking them off along with my boxers.

  My hands, my mouth, run wild as I pull us to our knees. I lay Skyla on her back and take my time running my tongue over every last inch of her body. A steady stream of whimpers hum from her throat as I suck down her skin, my tongue vibrating over her flesh. My mouth lands on her thigh, and she takes in a sharp breath because she knows what’s coming. I trail my kisses ever so slowly right up to where she wants it most. Her breathing picks up. Her fingers run wild through my hair, and she’s all but guiding my head where she needs me, but I take my time. Skyla lets out an audible moan as if she can’t hold out another minute. My mouth moves over her sugared sweet spot. I’ll never eat another chocolate cake without thinking of this night, this moment. Skyla climaxes right in my mouth, summer rain wishes it tasted this sweet. She does her best to push me off her, but I hang tough and linger with a kiss that leaves her knees locking over the sides of my head. I sit up and manufacture one of the glow-in-the dark condoms from thin air.