Elysian

  Why would he place more value on that damn pendant than his own life? I lean hard against his chest and rest my head over his shoulder. I really don’t want to get into a debate over the pendant. I want to save Marshall as much as I do Logan.

  Logan gives my hand a squeeze, and I nuzzle into him until I fall asleep safe in his arms—the only place on the planet I want to be.

  25

  Instant Misery

  A long, rolling trail of darkness looms above the morning sky like a ship anchoring in from its final voyage, and we were its silent witnesses at the bottom of this hopeless sea. Paragon thrives in its soot-covered world. The shadowed maples with their branches, already naked, as the November winds pick up their leaves in a whirlwind.

  I shower and dress for school. I spent all day yesterday locked in Logan’s arms. He came up to the butterfly room, and we just hung out. Mom convinced herself I have “that bug that’s going around.” Little does she know that bug is death, and it’s Logan who’s plagued with the disease.

  “Hey, Snowball.” I poke my finger in the ivory cage and snag it back before the tip gets hacked off. It figures that Marshall would gift me a pissed off bird. “What’s with all the attitude?” I press in close to the small white beauty just as it lets out a horrid screech. “Geez! I seriously doubt you were designed to scream like that. You’re supposed to whir, soft and pretty. You know, say things like ‘who’ over and over.” The tiny creature scuttles to the opposite end of the lone stick balanced across the cage and turns its head around as if it were purposely giving me the cold shoulder. I glance down at the crap-covered bottom. “Oh, I get it. I need to clean your cage. I’ll get some newspaper and have everything nice and sanitary before I take off for school.”

  Snowball spins her head slowly in my direction and glares. Swear to God that thing just gave me the stink eye.

  Huh.

  I shrug it off as another one of Marshall’s natural disasters. Maybe I will give the damn thing to Mia.

  I head downstairs.

  After all, I have much bigger things to deal with right now like trying to figure out a way to bribe both Chloe and my mother into getting what I want out of them. Something tells me that neither of them is willing to accommodate.

  Sometimes it sucks to be me.

  ***

  Downstairs the scent of cheap coffee and crap permeates the air.

  Chloe stains the kitchen with her wickedness, gawking at something on the table with Mom.

  “Well, that explains the smell.” I scowl at her as I make my way to the refrigerator. “Why are we entertaining trolls again?” I pluck out the OJ and migrate over.

  “She’s Ethan’s guest,” Mom says it tight-lipped as if she weren’t crazy about the sickle slinger’s presence either. “We’re taste testing coffee for the Gas Lab.” She points down at a dozen different cups of dark, muted liquid. “Would you like to join us?”

  I make a face at the bevy of inky solvents staring back at me. The last time Mom and Chloe passed the chalice it was that rocket fuel that cleared their bowels for months.

  “No thanks.” I peer at the pyramid-like arrangement of mugs. “Funny, it doesn’t smell like coffee.”

  “Oh, it’s instant.” Mom nods into the idiocracy.

  “Instant?” I blink up at her as Mia and Melissa glide into the room. “You can’t serve instant at a coffee shop. We’ll be laughed off the island.”

  Tad barrels over, hitching his thumbs into his belt loops like a displaced farmer.

  “We can and we will,” he gruffs. “Chloe, here, just gave us the heads up on a distributor that sells this stuff for .98 a pound.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a bargain.” I’m quick to inform before spinning into the demented diva. “And it would figure that all these crappy ideas are coming straight from the crap factory itself—your brain.” I turn to Mom and Tad. “Are you even listening to this? She’s targeting us for a financial meltdown, and you’re falling right into her wicked scheme. Might I remind you it was my inheritance you swiped to finance this disaster? Shouldn’t I have some say?”

  “Oh, really?” Chloe perks to attention at the revelation. “I guess that would make us partners in this venture. I put up my own savings to help Ethan fund the other half of what he needed.”

  “Yup.” Ethan strides over, popping the lid on a soda. “You’re fifty-fifty partners. Isn’t that great?”

  “Why would that be great?” It howls from me like a siren, and the baby startles in his playpen, sending Mom bolting to his side.

  “Dude.” He knocks me in the arm. “You two like hate each other. What better way to make the business thrive than to have you both competing to make it better?”

  “You are such a doofus.” I push him all the way to the fridge. “If that is your only business strategy, you’d better be prepared to close your doors faster than you opened them.”

  I glance back while Chloe accosts my sisters. God knows what unfortunate plans she secretly has for the two of them.

  “And what was this ultimate revenge you kept toting against the girl who eviscerated you?” I smack Ethan in the chest. “Or did you forget that she was the one responsible for your death to begin with?”

  “I slept with her.” He ticks his head back a notch as if I should have deduced this a long time ago. “Relax, would you? It’s still playing out. I’m keeping her handy for those cold, lonely nights. She’s basically my sexual servant.”

  A deep groan emits from me as if he just socked me in the gut.

  “That’s it?” I shake my head in disbelief. “She deserves way worse than that.”

  “Yeah, but for someone as rotten as she is, death’s way too easy.”

  I suck in a breath because, God almighty, Ethan Landon is right for once.

  “She killed my father and Logan,” I whisper. I don’t care that she actually killed my father by proxy, she was the one who demanded Demetri kill him, and, as a Fem, he was bound to comply. My blood runs cold as ice. Did I just excuse Demetri, the demon of darkness, from setting my father ablaze like some birthday candle? I shake the thought away and continue, “And she slit Gage’s throat. She’s a recipe for disaster, Ethan. She’s going to make sure you, me, and that coffee shop slash oxygen tank explosion in the making, go up in flames.” Just like Dad. “And what’s with the ridiculous blank canvases hanging from the walls?” I smack him over the stomach for being so blatantly stupid.

  “It was her idea. The customers can see what they want.”

  “Figures. You know what they’re going to see? Nothing. Just like you will when you look in the register.” I glare over at her, hamming it up with my sisters like she’s their new best friend. “The only thing Chloe sees is Gage.”

  Ethan lets out a raucous belch before making his way over to his satanic sweetheart.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He turns and gives me a wink as he leads her to his bedroom. Really, I’m beginning to think the only one being tormented in that sick bed of perversion is Ethan. I’m sure Chloe has her Gage goggles on while screwing him into oblivion. She’s that demented.

  I speed over to Mia and Melissa huddled near the cups of muck.

  “What’s with all this fraternizing with the enemy?” It takes everything in me to keep from dumping the wannabe coffee all over their heads. My sisters need to wake up and smell the instant sewage the enemy is trying to shove down their throats, so they can focus on the fresh brewed truth.

  “What enemy?” Melissa chirps, slightly annoyed with my question. “Chloe?”

  “Yes, Chloe. Always Chloe.”

  Mia clicks her tongue. Her face does its best impression of mine. “Gee, Skyla, it’s as if you’re forgetting the rules of the game. You’re the enemy, remember? And if you don’t want us fraternizing, I suppose you’ll have to move out.”

  “I’m not your enemy, Mia. Don’t you ever say that.”

  “Yes, you are,” it speeds out of her. “I took an oath and every
thing. I’m officially a member of the Countenance.”

  Shit.

  I can feel the blood draining from my face as I grow lightheaded.

  “Halloween,” I whisper. I was supposed to stop them from unifying themselves with the celestial vermin, but life threw me a curveball. “Mia,” I grab ahold of her by the shoulders and try to rattle some sense into her. “You need to get out of that. You need to denounce it today. Dad is going die all over again.”

  “Skyla!” Mom barks from across the room. “Hands off.”

  I drop my arms and take in Mia’s shaken features. She cringes away from me as if I had just tried to behead her.

  “Mia”—tears blur my vision—“I can’t lose you. I can’t lose either of you.”

  Melissa glares at me with a viral hatred I have never seen in her before. It’s too late. Chloe has already seeped into their veins like poison.

  I speed out of the room and smack right into a body at the end of the long, dark hall—Chloe.

  “What’s all this blubbering about?” She pushes me back a good foot. “You’ve already lost your sisters.” She gleams with evil delight. “Your inheritance is sunk into my business, Skyla. You’re my bitch. You work for me.” Her lips twitch with satisfaction.

  “I’ll always have Gage.” Those words alone are far more effective than a punch in the gut. And will I? Or is this some cheap lip service to hurt Chloe with?

  “No, Skyla, you won’t.” Her dark eyes narrow into mine. “If I’m doomed to be one of the dearly departed soon, I’m for damn sure taking him with me. Can you imagine? Me, Logan, and Gage, running around paradise, having all that fun while you bend over and give it up for your math teacher?”

  “Oh, sweetie”—my voice trembles with pure hatred—“no one is letting you anywhere near paradise. You and I both know that. There’s a throne of molten hot nails waiting to greet you where you’re headed, and that’s a promise. It must hurt like hell knowing your expiration date is imminent—that your fire is never going to be quenched. That’s exactly what the good book says, you know. Oh wait, you wouldn’t know because you’d combust if you ever picked it up.” That vision of me begging to spare Chloe’s life comes to mind like a slap in the face. “Although”—I glance down at the Eye of Refuge dangling from her neck—“I might be up for a little negotiating—say, one protective hedge for an extension on that rotten existence of yours?”

  Chloe belts out a laugh.

  “You wish you had that kind of power, Skyla.” She wanders off toward Ethan’s room and turns back a moment. “And you know what? Even if you did, I’d rather suffer for eternity than give you anything you asked for.” She clasps her fingers over the protective hedge and glares into me. “You took what was mine, and I’ll be damn sure to take everything that’s yours. And that, right there, is gospel.”

  ***

  At lunch, the wind stops bending the backs of the evergreens and puts away the whip long enough for us to stretch out on the senior lawn. I lie sandwiched with Logan and Gage on either side of me as I finish recanting the horror I experienced this morning.

  “She’s not going to hurt Gage.” Logan shakes off the idea as if it were impossible.

  “He’s right.” Gage tweaks his brows as if he knows this emphatically.

  “That’s not the point.” I lean into Gage. “She already hurt you in the war—both of you.” I glare over at Logan a moment because he made me swear not to tell Gage. He wants to break it to the family in his own way. God forbid he gets taken by my mother before he has the chance to say goodbye. I’m sure Emma will have my ass on a post if that happens.

  Logan reaches over and lays his hand casually on my forearm, but Gage lands his steel gaze over it and doesn’t bother hiding his annoyance.

  I’ll tell them soon, Logan pumps a dry smile. I promise. I’ll have you there. You can support me. He adds a quick wink.

  Gage goes ridged by my side. He’s not too interested in Logan and I conducting a private conversation right under his nose, and I can’t say I blame him.

  I swallow hard, trying to battle the fist of grief forming in my throat.

  “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about Chloe.” Gage pushes his shoulder into mine and effectively dislodges Logan’s hand from my person. “I want to talk about us.”

  Our eyes lock for a brief moment and I’m lost in those giant blue orbs I could lose hours, weeks staring into.

  “Our birthdays.” He pulls his lips in a line, gazing past me at Logan.

  “Oh, right.” Logan plucks a blade of grass out of the lawn and coils it around his finger. He’s probably thinking he should add birthdays to the long list of things he no longer gets to experience.

  “You want to do something big at the bowling alley like last year?” Gage perks up at the thought of exploring party venues with me.

  “I’m not sure.” I shake my head.

  “Don’t tell her I said anything, but your mom has been after me for weeks trying to nail something down.”

  I groan at the thought.

  “Of course my mom is after you. I’m shocked she hasn’t left Tad for you yet. She has Gage fever just like Chloe.” I don’t mean for it to come out as pissy as it does.

  He ticks his head back a notch and rides his gaze from Logan to me.

  “Gage fever, huh? You know”—he starts to get up—“there are some people I wish would get it.”

  “Wait!” I snatch him by the ankle as he strides away. “Crap.” I collapse back on my elbow. “I’d better go. I’ve never seen him so ticked.”

  “No, don’t.” Logan wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in. “I sort of got the ball rolling this weekend. He kept riding me about where I was Sunday and when I finally fessed up he exploded.”

  Shit. An image of Logan and I wrapped in my comforter as we gazed at the butterflies all day blinks through my mind.

  I close my eyes a moment. I never wanted to hurt Gage. I never wanted to hurt anybody.

  “He loves you, Skyla.” Logan touches his head to mine and swallows hard. “You’re going to have a nice life together. Gage isn’t mad at you. He’s pissed at me.”

  I nod as tears moisten my eyes. “And what about you? Am I just supposed to give up on you because my mother dealt you a crappy hand? I don’t think so, Logan.”

  “Don’t worry about me. In fact, don’t worry about Gage either. Worry about that pendant as if your life depended on it. Marshall’s does remember?”

  Logan with his blessed-by-God features, those gut wrenching good looks that should be outlawed by the universe to exist in one person alone—he stares at me with a look of certainty as though he could promise that, in fact, my life did depend on it.

  “This has nothing to do with Marshall, does it?” I call him out on his bluff.

  “Oh, it does.” He gives a furtive nod. “I thought for sure if I tied it to Dudley you’d be on that medallion like white on rice.”

  “Logan!” I pull back a little. “You are so hiding something from me!”

  He opens his mouth to refute it then closes it again.

  “Knew it!” I gasp. “You and your dime store analogy. And what did you mean by ‘if I tied it to Dudley?’”

  Logan gives a tired blink as if he had just let loose the ultimate slipup.

  “It’s true, Skyla, if you don’t get the pendant from Chloe, he’s banished. I don’t know the terms or where in the hell he goes, but he’ll be nowhere near you.”

  A boiling anger percolates within me.

  I dig my fingers into the lip of his jeans and pull his hip hard against mine.

  “I will twist your balls so hard, right here in the middle of West, if you don’t fess up right now, you will wish you could die,” it seethes from me. It might have been the cruelest of threats, and perhaps an unnecessary one at that, but I’m so damn sick of being in the dark.

  He holds out his hands and gives a long blink.

  “Done. Release your stronghold on the boys, and I’
ll tell you everything.”

  I give him a little shove before leaning back to inspect him. Treble or no treble, this boy better speak.

  “Last summer, before I ever had any idea I’d be dead before fall”—he averts his eyes to the sky a moment—“right after your mother gave me that vision of the two of us on the beach with that child…” Logan drops his gaze to the grass, and I watch as his Adam’s apple rides up and down in rhythm. “Some version of myself came to Paragon—scared the shit out me at the bowling alley. He was insistent that I get the pendant back any way I could. He roughed me up a little to get the message across. Then he babbled on about a few things before he took off. The pendant’s not for me, it’s for you.” Moisture glosses his eyes. “As long you get that pendant in the end, that’s all that matters.” Logan picks up my hand and brings it to his lips. “Gage told me about the vision of you wanting to spare Chloe. That means things are getting ready to happen, Skyla. My grandmother said that Chloe needs to gift the protective hedge for it to work.” He shakes his head. “I was a fucking idiot to give it to her to begin with. You were the Celestra I was supposed to gift it to, and I blew it. And now it’s my responsibility to get it back to you. I figured you’d want it since your own life was prophesied to last.” He nods without breaking our heavy gaze.

  “Logan.” I pull him into a lengthy hug and sit there like that until the bell rings.

  He helps me up, and I dust the loose blades from my jeans and sweater.

  Marshall walks from the administration building, and a thought comes to me.

  “So Marshall, huh? White on rice?” I ask as if calling him out on it. “Did you really want to punish him?”

  “A part of me did. But a part of me knew you’d fight for him. I know you have feelings for him.” He gives a wild-eyed stare. “I don’t know why, but you do. I also know he’d do anything to save his Sector ass from losing a moment in your presence.” He opens his arms as he takes a step back. “The two of you are the dream team, Skyla. If you both fight to keep him around, that pendant will be on your neck before you know it.”