She gives a menacing looking my direction. Her burnt orange hair rises like flames against the pale blue expanse.
“We can hear you, love.” Marshall dips into my mother as if he were speaking to her.
“Skyla.” My mother’s voice resonates throughout this strange dimensional plane. The water in the lake below vibrates in oscillating ripples. “You and Logan have already replicated their misguided depravity.”
“Depravity?” I balk.
“Not now,” Marshall, whispers.
“Yes, now,” I say, stepping forward, causing Nev to flee from me to Gage. “Do you realize they burn my people alive as a permanent means of taking them off the planet? If I remember correctly, you were one of them. And what about the tunnels?” I spin around to look at my father. “Which, by the way, I am privy to because the Counts have captured me.”
“What?” He looks up at my mother disbelieving. “Candace? Is this true?”
“Of course, it is,” I say, “I wouldn’t lie.” Not to him anyway.
My mother lifts her head and takes a breath, acknowledging the malfeasance against her own flesh and blood with a solid span of silence.
“It’s torment down there,” I continue. “It’s a living hell, and yes, Mother, I would most certainly say it falls under the category of depravity. Let me guess. I’m supposed to stick it out and take it up the tailpipe because you and your destination reputation are at stake.” Her face puckers. “You sit up here, high and mighty, and pretend you know exactly how this is going to pan out, when in reality it’s all out of your fucking control.”
An eerie silence stops up my ears. The waterfalls in the distance have hushed themselves—the lake, the breeze, nothing moves.
“Are you finished?” She offers a peaceable smile.
Logan and Gage both shoot me a look that suggests I’m very much done in more ways than one.
Am I? I’m pretty sure I have a rather long list of grievances I’d love to shout in her face, in front of her henchmen and my father, but, unfortunately, nothing else comes to mind.
“For now,” I say.
“Good.” She folds her hands in front of her. “We dole out the punishments.” She fans her hands out at those seated beside her. “We follow principles of behavior. We take verbal contracts seriously to the point of death, and we set in motion an entire list of rules for those of you dwelling on Earth to abide by, one of which is to obey authority—and for the Nephil kingdom that translates to the Faction Council. Rules are in place to enforce order. And you, Skyla and Logan—like Ezrina and Heathcliff, broke them. I’ve already made this clear to you once before.”
I take in a breath and let it fill my chest until it feels as though my lungs might burst. It’s like talking to a wall, chasing my tail. It’s completely useless trying to convey to her why it’s so important to stop the Counts.
“I understand the danger you’re in, Skyla,” she says, acknowledging my thoughts. “I understand how important it is that the Sectors rule the day and that Celestra hold the night. I did not take the task lightly when I set foot on Earth to bear you.”
Marshall leans in and whispers, “By day she means the heavenly realm and by night, the Earth.”
“Did you love my father, or were you using him?” I ask, never wavering my gaze from her.
A gasp is heard in the distance from where Giselle is seated.
Logan rests his hand over mine and gives a squeeze that begs me to stop.
“Please, excuse my future bride.” Marshall slits the air with his attempt at moderation. “She’s still reeling from a rather nasty blow to the head she procured during an altercation in region five.”
“Which, by the way, was not secured.” Rothello, the one-eyed tattletale, is quick to highlight my recent failure.
“Your future bride is out of control.” My mother doesn’t bother hiding the fact she’s irritated.
Gage glances over when she refers to me as Marshall’s future bride.
My father steps forward. “What’s this future bride business?” Dad looks wild-eyed from me to my mother. “Marshall? The Sector?” He looks right at him. “Is that why you chose me as your mentor? Because you had some ulterior motive with my daughter?”
That’s right. Marshall once mentioned that my father was his mentor. I’ve wondered what that was about myself.
“With heaven’s sanction, I will marry your daughter.” Marshall gives a nod in Dad’s direction.
“Personally.” My mother digs a smile into the side of her cheek. “I’m rooting for Logan.”
Chapter 47
Team Logan
Logan produces a grin that suggests he’s the cat that ate the canary, and suddenly I’m feeling rather canary-ish.
We’re standing on the sapphire floor just below the lake in Ahava while the fab four frown down on the fact my mother ever gave birth to me.
My mother—in front of my father, Gage, Logan, Marshall, Ezrina, and Nev—just openly declared herself team Logan.
“What about Gage?” I glance at his perfection. I thought my mother set them in my life as equal opportunity suitors. None of this makes sense. Besides, Gage is an ideal physical specimen who most likely just had his feelings hurt. But she wouldn’t know that because apparently she has none of her own.
“What about me?” Marshall queries with his finger jabbed into his chest.
“Nevertheless, I know the conclusion of each of your stories,” she says it banal as though at the end of the day this conversation holds no more weight than table salt. “Logan,” she pauses, “do you remember me?” She tilts her head and tries to ignite in him a memory through her eyes.
“From my time in the Transfer?” Logan is clearly perplexed by my mother’s head games.
“No, not then—from before.” She calls him forward with the flick of her finger.
Oh, dear God, she’s going to do something insane like join us in holy matrimony right here in her legal chambers, which I’m positive will involve some lifelong, binding covenant. Not that I’m opposed to marrying Logan, just not at seventeen.
“Marriage does involve a covenant, Skyla.” She looks over Logan’s shoulder at me. “Of which carnal relations are a very intimate, yet important factor. Do you realize that the Master has very strong feelings about sexual purity?”
I have a feeling Lizbeth Landon is about to be bested when it comes to mortifying her daughter.
“I noted on several occasions that you and Gage”—she says his name like it’s a sexually transmitted disease—“have come very close to uniting yourselves on a spiritual level you know nothing about.”
Whew! For a second there I thought we were talking about S-E-X.
“The topic at hand is premarital sex,” she spews, “that and the fact you’ve just about delved into scalding waters that would have landed the two of you in a binding unity. And you didn’t even have protection with you for God’s sake!”
“Skyla!” My father bellows his disapproval.
Shit.
“Gage.” My mother bears her fangs in his direction. “Do you love my daughter?” Her face crimps as she freezes him out with her glacial stare.
“Very much.” Gage takes up my hand and kisses it.
Her eyes enlarge at his apparent audacity. “Do refrain from fondling her in the presence of myself and her father. Have a little respect,” she spits out the words.
Gage drops my hand, cold, as if it were a rattlesnake.
She clears her throat. “I demand you take a proactive stance and restrain yourself when in her company. Do you understand?”
Gage gives a furtive nod.
“You’re to care for her in an absolute chaste manner.” My mother persists. “As though she were your sister.”
I give a sorrowful look up at Gage. I can’t imagine a lousier time for him to have shown up. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t gunning for a new sibling when he resolved to come here.
“Like my sister.” There’s a note of
sarcasm in his voice. “Got it.”
“Good.” She gives a satisfied smile. “Skyla, your father and I are coming to Paragon. Does this please you?”
“As in my dead father—?”
She cuts me off. “Yes, Skyla, the one who stands before you.” She sharpens her gaze at Marshall. “You’ll prepare a room for us.”
A room? As in singular? Speaking of carnal relations.
“We were joined in holy matrimony.” She afflicts me with a scorching look. “We can delight in our flesh all we desire,” she says, honing in on my thoughts.
Um, eww? And by the way it totally feels like Dad is about to cheat on Mom, and I’m not talking about this one.
“Nonsense. We’re both dead.” My mother laughs. “As far as the punishment goes for assisting Heathcliff and Ezrina, it will be cast down to both you and Logan once the war concludes. Heathcliff and Ezrina, this little stunt will be held as further evidence against you once the new trial commences. Now, be gone, I’ve business to tend to with Logan.” She flicks her fingers at the lot of us, and we all disappear.
***
“She is insane,” I scream, standing in the middle of Marshall’s living room.
He stabs a finger in the direction of the fireplace, and it roars to life in one giant blaze.
“Of course, she’s insane. That would be your genealogy by the way.” Marshall points to the ceiling, and the lights dim, music filters in through the air. He holds out a hand, and I absentmindedly take it.
“She just basically declared open season on my vagina,” I say, leaning into Marshall’s chest as we begin to slow dance. “I mean, one conjugal visit, and we’re as good as married?”
“It needs to be consensual.” He insists. “Of course, the bride price still needs to be paid, but these days, all that amounts to is a clerical fee at the county courthouse,” Marshall rambles.
“That was so freaking embarrassing. What’s next? Some triple-X video on how babies are made?” I seethe. “In front of my father no less?”
“Oh dear, I pray not. Why don’t we head upstairs and I give you a step-by-step demonstration. We can avoid the entire fiasco.”
“Very not funny. And, by the way, don’t think for a minute I’m not onto you.” I rattle his hand in the air.
“What you’re saying is, you are very much aware of the fact I’m attempting to woo you,” he muses.
“That I am.” I sigh, closing my eyes a moment because I’m so unbelievably exhausted. “You feel good, and I’m short on fight at the moment.”
“I don’t believe you.” His chest rumbles with a thin rail of laughter.
“OK, I like you. I like the way you make me feel. I like having you in my life. I don’t know why. I haven’t figured this out yet.” True story.
“Perhaps because I’m so unbelievably attractive I’m fit to be tied—I have a four-poster bed should the need arise. I’m quite eager to return the favor should you feel inspired.”
“Wow, that’s quite an invitation.” I don’t bother opening my eyes. Nothing about his sexual banter surprises me anymore.
“Bored you already, have I?” He huffs. “Every day, every night would be a new experience with me by your side. I promise you consistency, my undying affection, sparkling conversations, the intimacy behind closed doors, open doors, wooded areas, bodies of water, and what I presume will be a favorite—the barn.”
“The barn?” Just the thought of all that hay needling in inappropriate places assures me Marshall’s perception of romance is slightly askew.
“Very well, we’ll nix the barn… for now.”
I slap his chest playfully. “You belong in a barn. I belong with…” I pause, thinking about what kind of mindboggling strategies my mother might be going over with Logan right this very moment. I bet she’s whipping out diagrams for him like some football playbook. I can envision him trying to maneuver around Marshall and Gage with me as the ball.
“Nonsense.” Marshall scoffs, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m in control of this ballgame. Delphinius has assured me as much. He’s eager to speak with you at the next faction meeting.”
“Excellent. I have some choice words for him as well.”
“There will be no slandering of celestial beings. I’ve warned you on countless occasions.”
“If said celestial being weren’t spreading celestial rumors, perhaps I wouldn’t be moved to wrench celestial balls.”
“Delphinius is an orator, Skyla. Once he affirmed the fact you were to be my wife, it was etched in stone.”
“Maybe he meant in the next life. You know, the afterlife?” I can almost buy that.
“Not so, there are two covenants that cease to exist in the Master’s Kingdom—death and marriage.”
“What an appropriate pairing,” I muse.
“He thought so.”
I lean my head against Marshall’s chest and feel the soothing hum repair the broken blood vessels around my eyes—my bones sing a song with their marrow. I love the way this feels. Marshall is a balm, a midnight sun in the cruel world of my mother and her cohorts. If only all spiritual beings were as loving and kind as he was, I wouldn’t be in half the mess I am now.
“I would spare you of all harm.”
“I know you would.”
“Although, the purpose of life isn’t to spare yourself from pain and heartache, Skyla.” He singes my cheek with a kiss. “It’s who you can spare. You must live your life for the people.”
“For the people.” I nod, thinking of Lacey and all those souls in the tunnels, the Nephilim and Sectors counting on me to win the war. But when it comes to Logan, Gage, and Marshall, I can spare no one.
Every heart will be broken.
Including mine.
Chapter 48
Summer Loving
Summer on Paragon stretches her wings like a dove in flight, an olive branch tucked in her beak as she glides through the damp, cool fog.
Gage and I have extended the olive branch. We dive into the ocean of our love and rekindle the fire that Chloe tried to extinguish with her barrage of well-plotted hatred strewn over time and memoriam.
I’ll be working a shift at the bowling alley later today with both Logan and Gage, which should be interesting since Logan is finally back from his internment, first with Ezrina, then with my mother. He left a text late last night once he arrived safe and sound in his bedroom—said he loved me more than the heavens love the sun and the moon. Those words made me quiver. Made me fear for Gage. Logan still has me in a very real way.
It’s almost nine in the morning as I trot downstairs to grab a banana before I leave.
Chloe is yawning into her coffee as Tad, Drake, and Ethan hunch over the counter completing the roll call of idiocracy. A stack of papers are spread out between the three nitwits, and they squint into them as if trying to decipher their hieroglyphics. It couldn’t be possible that all three Landon males hold the curse of illiteracy, so this must contain confusing verbiage or perhaps it’s all text and no pictures.
“What’s going on?” I ask en route to grab some OJ from the fridge.
“A business opportunity came our way.” Tad doesn’t bother glancing up.
“Clearly, said ‘business opportunity’ is of the female variety. I gather it involves giant knockers.” Did I just say that out loud? I’m still feeling kind of loopy from lack of sleep. I stayed up way too late wondering what life would be like with both Logan and Gage. Truth is, I’d rather be sawed in half than decide between the two of them. I guess, in a small way, I’m thankful for the war. It makes the battle for my heart a little easier to bear.
“Skyla!” Mom pops in the room like an apparition, balking at my statement. “This family needs a financial infusion if you hadn’t noticed.”
“Skyla is absorbed in her own world right now.” Chloe tries to sound sympathetic, but she snarls at me once my mother turns her back.
Mom darts Chloe a look. “You really know, Skyla.” She slashes
her finger in the air at Tad “Anyway she’s right, this should involve breasts.”
I stop breathing.
“Breast milk is big business.” My mother uses my sarcasm as a springboard for her insanity. “We should consider opening a shop that caters to the market. We can call it ‘The Milk Bar’ or ‘Mother’s Milk.’”
Good grief. And I suppose she’ll be the lone supplier, or worse, enlist me in on the effort.
“Think of all the cute babies you’d have running around as customers.” Chloe makes a face when Mom isn’t looking. “You wouldn’t even mind that you can’t have one of your own.”
Mom snaps her head in Chloe’s direction.
Leave it to Chloe to hang herself so efficiently, flushing all her kiss-ass efforts down the toilet with one cutting remark.
Chloe straightens in the midst of her verbal faux pas.
“I love that color on you.” She steps lively with the false adulation. Chloe dispenses flattery to my mother like candy at Halloween—strychnine-laced candy. My mother had better keep an eye out for razor blades if she knows what’s good for her.
Ethan slaps his hand on the counter. “We can have like ice cream made from that shit.” He nods into my mother, stony faced, as if he didn’t just let an expletive fly. He looks over at me. “We’re thinking of opening a coffee shop just a block from the high school.”
I assume he means West since East has about six different coffee holes barricading it from every side, the most popular of which belongs to the Kraggers. That’s where Emerson died—where Chloe killed her to be exact. I’m assuming if she came back to life, she wouldn’t bother placating her executioner with niceties the way Ethan does. Then again, she doesn’t have a penis, so her thinking would be a lot clearer.