“Is he your favorite Fem?” Marshall’s crimson eyes harden over mine. “Or is it the one you share your bed mites with?”
“Gage is good. I know this.”
“Prove it.”
“No, you prove it.” I pull him in hard by the arm. “Take Logan and me to wherever it is that Gage is taking off to nightly, and help me see for myself what Gage is up to. You’re my spirit husband—my helpmate, and I need you.”
His chest expands as he takes a deep breath. Marshall is a sight to behold. Rumor on campus is that entire sororities have ironed his likeness onto their nightshirts in a campaign labeled Sleep with Professor Dudley. Wake up with a smile on your face!
“I’ll do this for you, my love. Under one condition.”
“Anything.”
“Promise me you’ll walk away from his vileness once you see he’s rotten to the core.”
“Would you stop?” I pull my hand from his. “This is Gage—my sweet husband. He fought for Celestra in the war. I’m in love with him. He’s everything to me.”
“I’ve had a vision, Skyla. Delphinious imparted something startling. I wish for you to see it.”
“I’m not kissing you.” That was old school as far as Marshall sharing his visions with me.
“Very well. Look into my eyes.”
I hop up onto my tiptoes and peer into the boiling caldrons of Marshall’s earthly lenses. A scene appears in duplicate.
“There’s someone on a throne.” I squint trying to make out the figure. “It’s Gage! Oh, and there’s a subject lying prone in front of him. She has dark hair. She’s getting up. It’s either Chloe or Em, from here it looks like both.”
Marshall blinks and his eyes return to their normal state.
“That alone should suffice, dear. I’ll have a spare room made up for you in the meantime. Would you prefer a walk-in closet? I’ll boot Liam out and give you his room. Quite frankly, I’m tired of hearing Shelly beg him for a spanking.” His mouth twitches. “Have you been naughty, Ms. Messenger? Shall I spank you?” He lifts the riding crop between us.
“You can put away the whip. I’m not moving in with you.” Although a part of me wouldn’t mind a few naughty love taps from Marshall. I can see it now—me bent over his lap, the riding crop ready to— I shake myself loose from the erotic scene. “The vision probably has a good explanation behind it. Gage is faking it. He’s not really for the Fems.”
“He’s a fake all right.” His jaw tightens. “Skyla, you may not leave him, but a part of him has already left you. He’s rotten fruit.” Marshall rubs my back in an effort to comfort me.
His words sting as only the truth can.
“Rotten fruit,” I echo mindlessly, but nothing in me believes it’s true. He could never be rotten. Could he?
“Promise me you’ll leave him, Skyla. The light has nothing to do with darkness. If Gage is wicked—you must walk. I’ll have the union nullified on grounds of treason.”
“Gage isn’t wicked.”
“You’ll leave him if he is?” He holds out his hand.
I clasp his warm, strong palm in mine.
“I’ll leave him if he is.” But I won’t have to.
Laken invites me to the Gas Lab for coffee so, of course, I say yes. Ezrina and Nev are here, whipping up one steaming cappuccino after another for a room full of patrons.
“Pumpkin spice. It’s our new seasonal specialty.” Nevermore raises a mug in my direction as he plants one down for both Laken and me. Nevermore, Heathcliff, holds a special place in my heart even if he is walking around in Pierce Kragger’s body.
“Nev was my pet raven.” I nod to Laken as though it were the most normal thing in the world. “But now Holden’s wicked soul has been cast into that beautiful bird.” I shake my head. “It’s sort of a shame, but I’m doing my best to get used to it.”
She chortles out a laugh. “That’s why I love you, Skyla. You’re so out there and yet down to earth at the same time. How are things?”
“You mean with Gage?” I want to tell her that I’m so in love with Gage that I can’t bear how much it hurts to think of a life without him. That there are things he hasn’t told me yet. And I haven’t asked because I’m afraid of what I might hear.
“Well, that, too”—she leans in—“but actually, I wanted to see how it’s going with the Council of the Superiors.”
I can’t say I’m not relieved. Talking about Gage is like lancing a wound.
“It’s going great. We have a meeting every six weeks, and so far all traffic concerns and building repairs necessary to the faction halls are well underway.” I give a bleak smile. “It’s not exactly the glamorous job I thought it would be.”
“Of course, not.” She folds her napkin into an origami heart. “They’re all on their best behavior around you. The Counts are playing dead until the Barricade takes the rest of us down.”
“True that.” I frown into my foaming cup of cappuccino heaven. “But I have plans to do a little revamping. I have all these ideas running through my brain about how to better the factions, like teaching programs for the youth and adult programs, too. We can all learn new powers. Together we can build a real community unlike the old way of pitting faction against faction and compartmentalizing our gifts. I guess it’s time to let the badass in me shine.”
“You—a badass?” She twists her lips, but her eyes are cheering me on.
“That’s right. The Counts might be playing dead, but I’m still alive and kicking.”
“Speaking of alive”—she lowers her lids—“the Celestra that were released have been causing quite the stir.”
“I’ve seen the news. Half the country is convinced they were abducted by aliens. Apparently it doesn’t take much to draw a line to the most outlandish theory.”
A tiny dimple digs into her left cheek. “I’m sure they would find the angelic factions an outlandish theory.”
“I’m afraid so.” Stupid Wesley. “I’m also afraid that the intentions of that ex-boyfriend of yours is to have them mistake our badass selves for wickedness.” We know for a fact that a part of Wesley’s plan is to cover the DNA marker of those in the Barricade and report the rest of us as monsters hell-bent on destroying humankind. Ironic since the roles are reversed.
Ezrina walks by, and I flag her down.
“I hope you don’t mind,” I whisper. “But I’ve been dying to talk to her. In fact, I’m about to assert a little badass right this very minute. Witness.”
“By all means, impress me. I dare you.”
Ezrina takes a seat across from me with her Chloe nose and Chloe dull smile. I know technically Chloe isn’t home, but a part of me still wants to slosh my scalding hot coffee in her face.
“Speak.” Ezrina tears her bored gaze from me to Laken.
“It’s about Gage.” I lean in. “As your faction leader, I command you to find a way to keep my husband alive for the rest of my days. Make sure death doesn’t claim Gage until it claims me. I don’t know when the Master plans on calling him home, but I’m afraid it’s far too soon.”
“Not possible.” Her dark eyes look just as soulless as they were with Chloe.
I snatch her by the wrist and pull her in. My agitation with Chloe has clearly transcended to Ezrina.
“It is possible, damn it. You’ve resurrected dead Counts for almost a century—Laken being one of them. If, God forbid, something should happen to Gage, I want you to implement your magic potions. I suggest you get a glass casket prepared for the inevitable. My blood will be available if needed. It is possible, and you will do it.”
Gage and I meet up with Coop and Laken for dinner at our favorite Chinese place close to campus. We’re just finishing up while Gage and Coop get locked in a serious conversation about Dragon football. Coop still plays for Host, and there’s not a day that goes by that Gage wishes he did too.
“Hey, badass.” Laken gives a quick wink. “So is there any news?” Laken looks from me to Gage with a serious express
ion. Her perfume is sweet and smells exactly like a magazine insert, clean and expensive. I’ll have to ask her what that is later.
“News?”
“About the Steel Barricade. I haven’t heard either of you mention it all night.”
It’s true. You would think none of that was happening in our world the way Gage never brings it up.
“I haven’t heard anything new.” I bear into Gage with an accusatory stare. “Have you?”
He leans back. His chest expands. “It’s still on. But we have time.” His left dimple inverts as if he were taking it all in stride.
“Let me know if there’s anything you need me to do,” Coop offers. “I’m all for taking down any and every barricade that threatens our people.” He nods to Gage. “Has Wes offered you a position in his twisted alliance?”
Coop shot point blank! Without meaning to, of course. But still, one point for Cooper.
“Nope.” Gage shakes his head without missing a beat. “I’ll keep an ear out. As soon as I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
My heart caves in on itself like a dying star. Maybe Gage only wants to let me in on what he’s up to? Maybe he’s not so sure he can trust Coop or Laken. She is a Count. Maybe that has him spooked?
Laken wraps her arm around Cooper as we get up to leave. “If Wes hasn’t pulled you into his inner circle by now, I doubt he will.”
“You’re right,” Gage concedes. “I’ll try to befriend him and see where it leads. Who knows? He might make an exception and let me into his inner circle. After all, I am his brother.”
A chill races through me as he tosses the words in the air as if they were meaningless—as if they were the truth.
Coop nods. “Laken and I will find Ezrina and ask if she’s figured out a way to mask the Nephilim. We’re a team, we can do this.” He slaps Gage some skin before they take off.
My eyes run over my handsome husband, and I drink in his strong jawline, his cellophane blue eyes, that perfect mouth for kissing and wonder when the man I loved became such a good liar.
Gage and I walk home through the pluming fog as the Host nightlife roars around us. Girls walk by in gaggles, each one of them slicing their gaze to my gorgeous husband. People sit outside the coffee shops and restaurants, studying, laughing, knocking back beers. We hit the base of our apartment and find our neighborhood watchman, Rev, sitting out front looking his usual unfriendly slasher self. He’s shaved the Mohawk right off his head. If you put him in a pair of jeans and a button down shirt he might even be mistaken for clean-cut. His elbows are hunched over his knees with a lit cigarette dripping from his fingers, and he looks depressed as hell.
Gage and I say hello, but he just takes a slow drag of whatever it is he’s smoking and ignores us.
“Hey.” I back up a moment. “That dog you were looking for—was it a big pit bull mix?”
“Yes.” He springs to his feet. “Did you see him? I’ve got to get my little man back.”
Gage and I exchange glances.
“If it’s him, he’s safe. My sister loves him to pieces. Here—” I dig through my purse and jot down the address for him. “Try to be nice. Don’t just rip him away. You’ll break her heart.”
“Got it.” He flicks the paper. “Thank you for this. I won’t forget it.”
Gage ushers me up the first few steps. “He’s going to kidnap your sister.”
“Is not.” I swat him. “First one up the stairs gets to bark out orders in bed.” I cringe as memories of our old bed prickles my skin with Scabie-like bumps.
“You realize that’s a win win for me?”
I giggle as I beat him by a mile. “You didn’t even try.” I swing myself around his body as if he were a pole.
“Maybe I like you in charge?”
“Maybe I like you in charge.” It’s true. I secretly live for Gage to dominate me in bed, and I don’t give a rat’s ass what any feminist thinks about that. I’d get on my knees every day just to have Gage bark out sexual orders at me. My panties drench just thinking about it.
Gage unlocks our tiny apartment, and we both freeze as we inspect a note taped to the door.
“Pay or evict the property within twenty-four hours. Morley Harrison.” Gage reads as he rips the notice from the chipping wood frame.
“That’s horse shit,” I say as we get in. We may not have any electricity, but the toilet flushes and the shower runs, albeit with maggots crawling up from the drain.
“No, it’s perfectly legal. We’ve overstayed our welcome. Our thirty days are up, Skyla.”
“Maybe we can talk to Morley and see about working out a deal? We can run the complex for him free of charge. We’ll be the superintendents! You know, fixing leaky plumbing and killing oversized rats in our spare time.”
“I like how you think.” A lewd grin blooms on his lips as the moonlight streams in and kisses him right over the mouth. “Do you do rats?”
“That would be your department.”
“Thought so.” Gage rumbles a dark laugh. The scruff on his cheeks has grown in, and I’m lusting after this darker, sexier version of the boy I’ve loved for so long. Hell, Gage has morphed into all man right before my eyes.
“There is something I love to do.” My hand dips low on his jeans until settling over his crotch. “You.”
Gage leans in and takes a gentle bite out of my lip. His black hair gleams an electric blue under the glare of the street lamp from across the street. There’s a glint of lust in his eyes that I hope he never loses.
“You know what I was thinking that afternoon while helping Drake land that aluminum shuttle of his around the yard?”
“That you want to buy me an aluminum shuttle?” I give a hopeful hop.
“That I desperately want to make a home with you.” He delivers a careful kiss. Gage has the softest lips for a man—unreasonably smooth and full. Even his hard passion-fueled kisses are elegant to the touch. “But—no matter where we are, you, Skyla, are my home. All I really need is right here in my arms.” He cinches his grasp over me.
“That is the single sweetest thing you have ever said to me.” I slip my hands into the back of his jeans and give him a squeeze right over his boxers. “Keep it up, Oliver.” We fall into one another’s mouths, sinking into a bottomless ocean of affection. “Tell me again how much you love me.” His arms lock over my body, tight like a seatbelt.
I run my fingers through his slick hair, touch my cheek to his rough stubble. So much has happened. Marshall and that vision run through my mind, and I can’t help but feel like the sickle has yet to strike.
“I do love you.” The words whistle from my lips lower than a whisper, weighted down with a question mark at the end. “More than life I love you.”
“Show me.” He buries a hot kiss in my neck and kneads my hips with his hands. “You ready to hit the bed?”
I shake my head. The louse filled mattress might be long gone, but the air mattress we bought a few nights ago to replace it is no better. It has a hole near the intake valve and makes all sorts of crude noises when we’re going at it hot and heavy. A flatulent mattress does not a romantic night make. Besides, I keep visualizing all sorts of mites parading around in the carpet and swarming onto the sheets. The entire place is crawling with parasites.
“We shouldn’t be anywhere near the bed,” I give it in a husky whisper. “I’d hate to prove to Brielle that she’s right.”
“Bree?” He pulls back surprised that I’ve hauled my best friend into our private moment.
“Yeah, she has this idea that our sex life is vanilla.”
“Vanilla?” Gage raises a brow, invoking that demonic look I find so damn hard to resist. He pulls my top off and tosses it across the room. Gage doesn’t break eye contact with me as his fingers unhook my bra with a simple twist, and it disbands from my body as if it held the tension of an overstretched rubber band. My panting picks up as I stand bare chested in front of him. He runs his fingers up my ribcage until his thumbs pre
ss small circles over my nipples. “We, Skyla, are anything but vanilla.”
I pull him in by the back of the neck. “Prove it.”
Gage rakes both our clothes off like putting out a fire. He takes my underwear and fetters my hands behind my back in one swift move. Before I know it I’m on the kitchen counter gasping as the ice-cold tiles adhere to my thighs with a slow burn. He hoists my legs over his shoulders, and his mouth finds a home over that quivering part of me that always seems to crave his secret kisses. A hard groan escapes me as his tongue defiles me in the best non-humanly possible way. It feels unnaturally long and intrusive as if he’s unleashed a wild snake into my body.
“Oh, God.” I cry out, digging my fingernails into my palms. “Yes, that.” A deep trembling sensation takes over, and it’s almost as if Marshall’s vibratory moves have been imparted on Gage. His tongue runs heated laps over me on repeat, and I throw my head back with pleasure and—
“Shit!” The entire cabinet rattles as my skull tries to add a new orifice to it.
“You okay?” Gage pops up, and I push him right back down again. I’m not letting a little head injury, or Emma for that matter, get in the way of my newfound spice.
Gage brings it home, rocking me out of my ever-loving mind.
This is the bliss that Gage and I will be wrapped up in forever.
I don’t even know what vanilla is anymore.
Gage
The next day, after school, Skyla and I pack our meager belongings from the apartment. We had one heck of a wild time last night and well into this morning. I bent her over the table, over the couch, pressed her up against the window to prove our love is anything but the dullest flavor on the block. Needless to say, I enjoyed the hell out of myself. I should write Brielle a thank you note for that snide little remark.
Skyla has a study group for her US history class, so I volunteer to teleport our things back to Paragon. I put half in my bedroom and the other half in the butterfly room like we decided. We’re still not certain where we’re going to lay our heads tonight. I suppose we can always flip a coin.