“Gage.” I wrap my arms around him and take in all of this knowledge, these truths that are more precious than silver or gold.
“Just before Brielle had the baby, I got a text saying Mia was in the mirror.” He shrugs. “I couldn’t leave, and it all started happening so fast. I couldn’t do anything but help Brielle.”
“You’re a hero.” I rock my shoulder into him.
“You know what I thought about the entire time?” He drops a kiss on top of my head as we continue our meandering stroll toward the water.
“How you’d never go to med school?” I tease.
“Nope.” He pulls back to get a better look at me. The tropical sun reflects against his features with fiery glory. “You.”
I’m not sure whether to be flattered or horrified. The thought of Brielle’s privates warping in and out of shape makes me cringe. And that it should invoke any kind of imagery that has to do with me makes my stomach turn.
“When I held that tiny baby in my arms…” He blinks back tears. “Skyla, it really was a miracle.” His dimples flex in and out as he bites down on his lip to keep his emotions in check. “I thought about the way I love you and how I can’t wait for that moment to come for us. How intensely beautiful it will be just trying to get there.”
A small laugh rumbles through him.
I take him in like this, soaking in the magic that surrounds us, the magic of his words. It’s all so perfect in this moment. Almost too perfect and it makes me dizzy. It’s like Chloe left her patina of distrust over our relationship, and now I’m afraid every moment with Gage will feel like we’re tiptoeing through terrain blanketed with landmines.
I lean up and press a chaste kiss against his lips as the wind canonizes the moment with its warm resplendence. It cools the sun and its intense rays from our flesh if only for a moment.
“I see a future for us, Skyla. I can feel it.”
My stomach tightens. Both Logan and Marshall expressed the same sentiment.
“Before we get too off track…” Gage pauses at the waterline and turns to me. “I want to share the vision I had of Chloe, the reason I saved her at the dance.”
“Go ahead.” I’d rather we focus on our future, but Chloe is a fire that needs to be stomped out long before we get there. “Tell me.”
“I’m not going to tell you.” He dips down into me. “I’m going to show you.”
Gage seals his lips over mine. He indulges in a kiss that defies time and space and gravity. My insides cycle in hot lust-filled bites, one eternal revolution after the other, and I never want this to end.
An image appears. Gage and I are standing in a well-lit room with no walls, no floor, no ceiling. I see myself hopping up and grabbing him by the shoulders, completely overcome with excitement.
“Yes,” I shout, “don’t ever let Chloe Bishop die, Gage! You hear me?” I rattle him by the shoulders to annunciate my point.
I pull back from the vision and give several hard blinks.
“Gage.” I bite down on a smile. “How did you do that? How did you share a vision with me?”
“Marshall taught me a few tricks—verbally,” he’s quick to add.
“Wait a minute.” I shake my head. “I would never say that.” I was far too eager to keep Chloe alive. “I would never not want Chloe Bishop dead.” I try to pull his hands off my waist, but they drip down slow as honey.
“It’s true.” His hands float back up above my hips. “Here, let me show you another—a more recent one.” Gage dips down and hesitates as he waits for permission.
I give a brief nod. A tender ache sails through me as I wait for his lips. We succumb to a kiss that feeds the hunger in me that knotted up my intestines when I thought Gage was out of my life for good. I wish I could freeze this moment—open a treble and live conjoined at the mouth for an eternity.
The vision warbles in and out until the picture comes in clear. I’m in bed with warm limbs wrapped around mine. The walls, the door, the comforter, it all looks foreign and disorienting.
“Where are we?” I flex up on my elbows, trying to adjust to the dark.
“Come here.” Gage emerges in a seam of pale blue moonlight. He jostles me by the knee as if to wake me up from my slumbering stupor. “I’ll remind you.” He lands a searing kiss over my lips—wet kisses that stream on forever. His body arches over mine, his chest relaxing soft against me.
“What are you doing?” I slap my hands against his chest in an effort to keep him from sticking the landing.
A peaceable smile comes over him. His dimples dig in deep, turning into twin black pools under the anemic stream of moonlight.
“You’re my wife, Skyla.” He dips a quick kiss to the tender skin below my ear. “We do this all the time.” He pushes my knees apart with his and nestles his body over my hips. He lays over me with his weight. The singe of his skin against mine sets me ablaze, and every inch of me detonates with pleasure.
I pull back from the vision and give a little laugh. It’s the same dream I had in the tunnels the first night I was there.
“Gage!” I jump up and wrap my legs around his waist in a single bound. “I have you back. That vision was real.” I peck a kiss over his cheek. “Everything about you is real.”
I hold him tight and revel in the moment. The sunlight behind him reflects off the water, a glare so blinding it turns the palm trees and the hills that dip their toes in the ocean into gold-dusted shadows.
Gage tucks a kiss into my neck before retracting.
“You really believe me?” He beams a sad smile from every pore of his being.
“I really believe you.”
We sink into a sea of soft kisses that last forever.
Chapter 41
The Haunting
The warm air wraps around us in a balmy embrace. The tropical paradise beckons us to stay, to linger on its crystalline shore if only for a moment.
“We should get back,” he whispers. “If your Mom’s trying to call, she might get worried.” Gage walks us to a thicket of palm trees to afford us the privacy we’ll need to teleport.
“Only if you promise we’ll visit again.” I dip my hands under his T-shirt and ride up over the warmth of his skin.
“I’ll bring you back every day if you want to.” He initiates one of his killer grins. “I’ll take you to Paris, Rome, Egypt. I’d go anywhere with you, Skyla.”
My stomach cinches when he says Rome. Logan and I went there on our Count killing spree, the one that cost us a million penalty points in the faction war. And apparently it cost nothing to the Counts we supposedly offed because they’ve all most likely been resurrected by now.
“Let’s get back to Seattle.” I graze the skin just below his shoulders soft with my nails. “But I’m holding you to Paris.”
He dips in with a kiss, and the world disintegrates around us, takes the tropics, its magical breeze and hypnotic sweet air with it.
Gage blinks us into a spacious room, double beds, with an oversized patio that looks out at the Space Needle. A series of islands sit out in the distance like the disconnected pieces of a puzzle, one of which is Paragon. I step over and press my hand against the frozen glass. Nothing but an ominous expanse overhead, carbine clouds bubbling to create the perfect storm.
“Where exactly are we?” I mean, I know we’re in Seattle. I’m delighted to be anywhere but the Landon attic at a time when Chloe Bishop was the queen of the scene.
“Avenue Drive Hotel—luxury suite.” He gives a wicked grin.
“Gage!” I bounce with excitement. “This is so not going to be funny if we get caught.”
“We won’t,” he assures, making his way over and wrapping his hands around my waist.
“And you know this because?” I lean into his chest. My entire body aches to crush against him.
“Because the hotel no longer rents this room out.”
“Oh?” I glance around. Everything looks impossibly clean. “So why’s that?” It’s probably reser
ved for staff meetings or dignitaries.
“It’s haunted,” he says it as fact.
Or that.
“Shit,” I say, plucking his arms off my waist. “You really must not like me. You know what I hate more than clowns? Ghosts!”
“You’re the ghost, Skyla,” he informs with an ever-blooming smile. “We both are. And, I swear, I don’t hate you.”
Crap. I knew this was a ruse. He and Chloe have finally figured out a way to off me, and now I’m forever doomed to some hotel suite in Seattle that I’ll never have the privilege to haunt properly because they never freaking use it.
“Levatio has this thing,” he says, gazing past me at the scenery a moment. “They wanted free stay at certain locations, so they had a little fun with people, and now pretty much every hotel has a haunted room on the thirteenth floor, except for when the builder decides to skip that number.” He blooms a naughty smile.
I drop my gaze in disappointment.
“Hey…” He runs his finger under my chin and lifts me gently. “What’s the matter?”
“I…” It’s probably not the best time to go there, but I can feel the words rising out of me like vomit. “For a brief second, I doubted you again.” I shake my head in lieu of an apology.
“It’s OK.” He pulls me in. I can feel his heart charging against my chest like a bull bucking its way out of the gate. “We’ll get back on track, it just takes time.”
“So what’s the hotel room for?” I bite down on a smile that never comes.
“It’s full of privacy.” He plops down on the bed as his lids hood over his eyes. “Perfect place to talk.”
“Very funny.” I hop on the opposite bed. “How much more is there to say?” I can feel his love for me, his genuine feelings alive and well. Chloe tried to muzzle my affection for him, but it grew in his absence, magnified over my lust until it burned like a fire.
Gage comes over. He holds his hands out in surrender as he slides in beside me.
“I missed you.” I catch one of his hands in the air and bring it to my lips. “You remember that day at Cain River when we went for a walk? You said you were jealous for me. I thought about it for a long time. It stuck in my mind.” I trace his lips, the hard ridge of his cheek, before dusting the pad of my finger over his eyebrow. “I get it now. When I thought I’d never have you again. I felt that strong ache, that deep gut-wrenching heartbreak that made me wish you were who I thought you were.” I pull him in until our noses almost touch. “I was jealous for you, but not with rage, with passion. I felt like we belonged. That this was our time. Chloe wanted to cheat us out of it. She’d kill for you.” An image of her carrying that head quickens in me, but I force the thought away. “I won’t let Chloe steal another moment of our time.”
Somehow, someway, I just know we’re destined to be together. Logan’s words resonate in the back of my mind—even he verbalized the fact this was my time with Gage, whatever that means. Nevertheless, it justifies the actions I’m set on taking before I ever initiate them. This is our time, Gage and me. My mother doesn’t make mistakes. She puts the exact people in my path that need to be there. This love—this moment—has been ordained by God himself.
I get on my knees and pull off his shirt. Even in this dim light, Gage draws an illumination. The reserve of day mists the room in a deep ethereal blue just this side of ebony.
My hands glide like a bird in flight over his bare chest. Gage pulls me down to the bed and trails blazing kisses over my mouth, my neck, my chest. My shirt flies off; the button to my jeans comes undone. We are all hands, tugging and pulling until all that’s left is my bra and underwear, Gage with his jeans open in front, his hard protrusion pressed anxious against my thigh.
We come alive in a hotbed of lust. Gage and his affection move through me, radiating heat from our spontaneous combustion. He unhooks my bra, slips his hand into the back of my underwear, rounds out the curves and groans. I gasp as he holds me there, and my head rolls back with pleasure.
An urgency erupts, an explosion racks through my body. Gage runs one continuous kiss from my lips to my shoulder, moving lower and I quiver with anticipation.
I give his jeans one good yank until I can feel the bare skin of his thigh over mine.
The bed trembles.
The ceiling spins, rotates like a helicopter blade until it’s replaced with a lavender sky.
The faction war—region five.
Chapter 42
Field of Fire
A pale light glides through the dim night sky. It creates the illusion of a very long tail as it splices the deep velvet. The scent of sulfur fills my nostrils and lines my tongue like oil. There’s a black forest to my left and a dusty clearing straight ahead, a granite hillside with a few sparse evergreens just beyond that.
It takes a moment for me to realize the fireball up above is headed right for me. I get up and run full sprint behind a pile of debris in a clearing.
The ground beneath me feels soggy and sticky—cold to the touch. I glance down at my bare feet, and take in a breath at my severe case of undress. I’m in nothing but my bikini briefs, my pink lace bra unhitched in the back. No clothes, and no shoes, and most importantly, no lifesaving disc.
Shit.
I duck down behind a pile of logs strewn on top of one another as if a giant had chopped up a small forest to ignite a bonfire. It takes me three tries to clasp my bra. I spot Ellis dashing into the woods to my left and I shrill his name out like a cat on fire.
He peers out at me from between the trunks of two noble firs as the landscape rumbles. A plume of dust explodes to my left as the ground rattles. The fresh rise of smoke infiltrates the vicinity. His eyes glint in my direction, and I wave him over.
“What the hell?” he shouts, skidding on his knees beside me. “New strategy to distract the enemy?” He gawks at my lack of clothing before emitting a dirty grin. “I like your style, Messenger.”
“Give me your pants,” I shout over the scorching wind. My hair flies rampant and wild like a blaze.
Ellis doesn’t think twice. He jumps out of his jeans so fast you would think he were about to get lucky. He doesn’t think that, right?
He whips off his T-shirt and helps pull it over me, still warm and holding the scent from his skin. I step into his jeans and roll the waistband three times to secure them.
“Thank you!” I lean up and hug him. Not only is Ellis willing to fight for me, but the fact he’s doing so in his boxers is a testament of his devotion. “I owe you big time.”
“I’ll be sure to collect,” he says, picking up my hand and glancing out into the field where a few men wander about. “Where’s Gage?”
“I don’t know.” The last thing I remember was the heat rising in that hotel room. It was going to be our hotel room, the one from his vision a few months back, but my mother threw us into the faction war, securing the fact her daughter’s virginity lives to see another day.
“You don’t have shoes.” Ellis gapes as though I were thoughtless to arrive in hostile enemy territory without the proper accouterments.
“I’m fine,” I say, before he has a chance to pluck off his sneakers.
A surge of bodies infiltrate the area. My heart fills with dread as they jog up ahead, holding out long black rifles with what looks like bayonets embedded into the tips.
“Shit,” I hiss, trying to pull Ellis to the side. A familiar-looking boy smiles openly at me. He breaks free from the crowd to come over, and I recognize him from the last region. It’s Cooper.
He pants through a short-lived smile. “There’s an enclave of Counts migrating to the west of the forest. You have about five minutes,” he says out of breath. “This your friend?” He nods over at Ellis.
“Cooper, this is Ellis,” I say.
“Cooper Flanders.” He gives a quick nod. He examines Ellis with a puzzled look. Boxers aren’t exactly the right attire for a war, especially when that’s all you’re wearing. “What weapons do you have?” br />
“What’s it to you?” Ellis expands his chest like a chimp ready for an altercation.
“Relax, he’s with Celestra,” I say. “And, we don’t have any weapons.” Then it occurs to me, Gage is probably securing an entire arsenal right now.
Cooper leans in. “Let’s get you something to protect yourself with.” He places his hand gently on my elbow in an effort to get me to follow him, and Ellis steps between us.
“She has something to protect herself with—me. Get over there with your friends and we’ll catch up.”
Cooper winces at Ellis. I can tell he’s not all that convinced of his power to protect me. “Suit yourself. We’re circling around and planning an ambush. You have about two minutes before you’re caught in the crossfire.” He trots off and catches up with the last of the stragglers from his camp.
“Let’s go.” I try to yank him but he points down at the shoes he took off for me. His socks are muddied to the ankles.
“Those things are huge, Ellis. You have boat feet. I’ll kill myself if I try to run in them.”
An explosion rockets through the pile of tree trunks behind us. A rumble ignites, and the logs tumble violently in our direction. We turn to run just as a dark sheath of wood envelops us from behind. It crushes our backs with its violent momentum, efficiently pinning the both of us.
“Ellis?” It comes out weak, using the last reserves from my lungs.
His blond hair glows like an ember against the dark canvas splayed out around him. Two oversized trunks crisscross over his back as though they were perfectly placed to secure him.
“I’m OK,” he groans. “Get Gage,” he can barely get the words out. Ellis is a lot of things but OK is not one of them.
I squirm and wiggle until I free myself from under the debris.
“Give me your hand,” I say, trying to push a log off him but it doesn’t budge. I twist it until it rolls in the opposite direction. “There,” I shout victoriously. Another trunk lies over his shoulders, and I push at it full force. Ellis lets out a groan that assures me it’s a lousy idea to continue with the rescue effort.