A jag of lightning goes off, igniting the landscape like the negative to some old haunted photograph. At some point I’ll end up doing just that to Skyla—shocking her world with an unexpected jolt of pain—one large electrocution, big enough to stop both our hearts from beating. But when? Tonight? It’s not exactly something I want to shout from the rooftop. There’s still a chance someone could have tampered with my blood sample. These new powers could simply be temporarily gifted from Demetri to prove a point. And I’ve yet to talk to my mother.
It’s not like I’m in a hurry to ruin the first night in our new apartment. I shouldn’t be stressing out over how Demetri duped everyone into believing I’m a Fem. I should be ecstatic about spending the night alone with my brand new wife—just the two of us, in peace, with nothing to stop us from loving each other exactly the way we want. Not one blood relation within a twenty-foot vicinity to make us hold back, not that Skyla held back last night. Can’t blame her. There were plenty of times I’ve wanted to unleash and had to swallow down those groans, but not tonight. I don’t see why I need to ruin our good time with my piece of crap news. At least not until it’s verified to me from some other source—I glance up at the watery sky.
“You hear me, Candace? Because if you do, there are a few things I wouldn’t mind you walking me through.” I press my head into my seat and close my eyes. I already know how this is going down. If I don’t tell Skyla myself, she’ll find out, most likely from Chloe. Then Skyla will wonder if I was ever going to tell her—if I was a big fake right from the beginning. And that small chain of events is just enough to send our relationship—our marriage into a death spiral.
I wonder at what point not telling her turns into me playing along with Demetri’s wicked scheme? I wonder how much darkness really owns me and what evil I’m capable of if I were to truly unhinge. If I throw myself off Devil’s Peak, will I morph into a bat and fly away unharmed? Does death even wait for me?
The truck shakes as Skyla hops in. Water beads off her jacket as she pulls back her hood, and her curls spring around her face untouched by the rain.
“Our secret is out,” she huffs through a smile as she buckles herself in beside me. “It’s me and you, Gage—forever.” She leans in and kisses me square on the lips.
I pull back with sleepy eyes, trying to mask the tears.
“Forever,” I echo as I maneuver the truck back onto the road and the rain lets up. It sounded despondent, depleted coming from my lips as if it were the last thing I believed.
But nothing could be further from the truth.
“I believe in us Skyla,” I say, gripping the wheel.
To hell with the Fems and all their twisted logic.
I’m not like them—never will be.
In my heart, I’ll always be a Levatio married to the girl of my dreams.
That’s my reality.
That’s what I choose to believe.
But Wesley’s little bro taunt comes back to me. Dudley’s words resonate like a gong—part from Skyla. They spin through my mind on repeat until we drive down to the dock and board that last ferry—home. I can never get used to being anybody’s son other than Barron and Emma Oliver’s.
I wrap my arms around Skyla as we drift into the night—the fog opens its mouth and swallows the entire ferry whole.
Going home with Skyla—now that’s something I can get used to.
“Can you believe this?” Skyla laughs as we dive deeper through the narrowed streets of Host, sinking in the fog as if it were quicksand. “We’re official.” She pulls my hand over her mouth and plants a warm kiss across my knuckles. “And we have our very first place.”
“We have each other.” I swore the second we stepped off that ferry I would leave all things Fem and Demetri back on Paragon. Tonight is about freedom, about promises we made to each other, about pleasure. And if there’s any pain at all—that should probably stem from pleasure, too.
Skyla pulls me in at the base of the stairs of our new apartment building. A few windows glow an eerie pumpkin orange—scratchy bass pours from somewhere deep in the structure as if a giant were belching out the tunes.
The fog dances around Skyla as the moon praises her with its beams, creating an iridescent halo around her perfect form.
“You’re my angel.” I land my lips over hers and linger.
“Yeah?” She moans, tracking her wet kisses right up to my ear. “I’m sort of hoping you’ll show me the devilish side of you tonight.”
A dull laugh begs to drum from my chest, but I strangle it down.
“I’m feeling a little wicked these days,” I moan. “Let’s do this.”
I let her head up the stairwell first and enjoy the view as she takes the steps two by two. Skyla is lean and toned. She has the body of an athlete without even trying. If Skyla is in the mood to wrestle it out in bed, I’m down for that.
She pauses just shy of the last step, and I look over her shoulder to find some buffed out, tatted up, ratted out looking dude smoking a blunt.
“What’s the magic word?” He winks over at Skyla as the stench of weed envelops us in a cloud.
“It’s get the fuck out of our way,” I growl, a little more pissed than necessary.
“Gage.” Skyla turns and shakes her head just enough. “Is that any way to talk to our new neighbor?” She turns back to the stoner who’s probably looking to meet his knifing quota for the night. “Please excuse my husband.” She giggles when she says it like she might be stoned, too. “He’s totally nice, once you get to know him. Trust me, Gage is all bark and no bite. He’s like a little puppy—not a teacup Chihuahua or anything, more like one of those blue-eyed Huskies that can totally kill the ladies with just one look.”
I give her hips a squeeze because, really, what can I say to contest that?
The ganja-sniffing moron gives a slight huff. “All right, girl—what’s your name?”
“Skyla. Skyla Mess—Oliver.” She glances back at me. Her paper white teeth dig into that lush bottom lip of hers. “Nice to meet you—”
“We’re done talking.” I pull Skyla in and step between her and the asswipe that I’m about to try out one of my newly gifted powers on.
“Whoa.” He hikes his leg out over the narrow walkway blocking our path. “Not so fast.” He takes a hit, and the tip of his joint glows molten red, like my temper. “The name’s Rev.”
“Right—like a preacher.” She’s placating him now, and it makes me happy on some level.
He narrows into her, the whites of his eyes shinning like glass. “Like Revenge. You might say my mother had a wicked sense of humor”—he looks to me and glares—“still does.”
“Join the club.” Skyla says, making her way past him, and I follow before he throws me down the stairs and makes it look like an accident. “Enjoy your night!”
“Enjoy your little bitch,” he says it low for my ears only, and I give him the finger behind my back. I’m not feeling as charitable as Skyla tonight. He’s the last moron on earth I would have paused to have a polite conversation with. But that’s what I love about Skyla—no mater how bad her day went, she can always manage a smile for someone.
Skyla twists the knob, and the door falls open.
I scoop her up in my arms and carry her over the threshold again.
“Did you have a key?”
“Ellis said he’d take care of it in the morning.” She peppers my face with a flurry of kisses. “But I do have this.” She pulls something from her coat and holds it up victoriously. “Two flat sheets, and they’re both dry as a bone.”
“They won’t be when we’re through with them.” I twirl my tongue in her ear, and Skyla lets out a satisfied groan.
My hand slaps over the wall until I come across the light switch. I’d like to get us to the bedroom without inflicting a concussion on either one of us. My fingers fumble over the switch and nothing happens.
“Let me guess, no electricity?”
“Ellis mentioned something about me tran
sferring everything into my name. Sorry.” She sighs into me. “Looks like we’ll have to fight it out in the dark.”
“Sounds good. But be warned, I don’t plan on fighting fair tonight.”
“I hope that’s a promise.” She takes a gentle bite out of my lower lip as I navigate us to the bedroom. I push open the door only to land us in the bathroom, the scent of mold and urine biting through our nostrils. I head into the next room, and Skyla leaps out of my arms. The moon streams in a fair amount of light as she tosses the sheets over the mattress lying on the floor.
That wall around my thoughts is stealth. I don’t think I’ll ever let it down again, especially knowing that the worst-case scenario just might have come true.
I flick off my shoes, and before I can get to my jeans, Skyla is right back by my side doing the honors for me.
“You mind?” she whispers.
“By all means.” I lift my arms, and she pulls and yanks until I’m standing in front of her with nothing but my made in the Fem factory hardware pointing right at her. I shake the Fems out of my head once again. Nope, they’re not allowed to infiltrate this moment. Another war had erupted today, this time in my mind, but I’m not taking that one on right now. In fact, the only battle I plan on waging is right there on that makeshift bed.
I pull her sweater off while Skyla shakes down her jeans. We land onto the mattress with a thump. It’s nothing but springs and squeaks, which should make for an interesting next few hours.
“Okay, so this isn’t a luxury cruise.” She gyrates over the hard-as-hell mattress, and it sings a song all on its own.
“Come here.” I roll on top of her, locking my lips to hers. “You’re a luxury cruise.”
“Lucky for you, the buffet is open all night long—especially since we don’t have classes tomorrow.”
“I can get used to going to school just three days a week.” Two extra mornings to linger in bed with Skyla is never a bad deal. I dip a hot kiss onto her neck. “In fact, I’m liking it a lot.”
“It likes you, too.” The moonlight kisses her skin far more intimately than I’ve ever had the pleasure. “You’re the hottest guy on campus, Gage.” She swallows hard like maybe it’s not a good thing. “I hope I’ll always be enough for you.”
“Are you kidding?” I cover her mouth with mine and explode into her with the thrust of my tongue—desperate and hungry—praying to God I’ll be enough for her once the truth shakes out. You’re everything to me, Skyla. You’ll always be enough. There’s only you for me. I swear, I was made to worship at your feet. I can feel it.
I stiffen over her for a moment. I meant every word and now, knowing what I do, it sounds horrific, as if I were simply slapped together on some assembly line and programed to fall head over heels for this beautiful girl that I was lucky to make my wife.
I promise you, I am one hundred percent genuine. There isn’t a false bone in my body. My love is true as God.
“Of course, you are.” Her lids flutter open as she presses back to get a look at me in the shadows.
I reach down and help slide off her panties—unhook her bra before removing it with my teeth. My lips trace over her flesh as I bury my face in her chest. Skyla holds the scent of vanilla roses, if there is such a thing. My body is gearing up for the long haul tonight. I want to have Skyla in every last inch of this dump that Harrison generously gifted us. It’s only then I remember something on par with the fact I just might be a Fem.
I glance up and whisper, “You wouldn’t happen to have any protection—do you?” And there it is—the buzzkill for the evening.
“Gage.” She chokes out my name as if she were crying. “Please don’t tell me we don’t have any.”
“Then I won’t.” I get to the task of grazing playfully over her soft as hell pillow-like mound. Skyla tastes like hot cinnamon in my mouth.
“It’s just one night.” Her lungs deflate. “I’m set to start in a few days, so I’m way past ovulation.” She’s reasoning it out. “Plus, I hear it never happens the first time around.”
Skyla wants me to dive right in.
Demetri’s ugly mug flashes through my mind as if he’s finally about to get what he wants. Judging by how far that asshole went to drop me off in this very position, I’m willing to bet my swimmers have the ability to break through any ovulation barrier on night one.
“We’d better be careful.” I’m keeping the boys in check. There’s no way I’d even chance it.
Skyla drills her tongue into my mouth as if this, right here, is our very last kiss—and judging by the trajectory my life has taken, it just might be. Her skin rakes over mine, hot as coals, her hips already writhing beneath me.
My hands run wild over her body. Skyla has curves for miles. Her long, lean legs wrap around my back, and that moist, heated part of her rubs up against my dick.
“Shit,” I mutter, tightening my grip on her with an urgency that scares me on a primal level. Skyla lets out a groan and pulls my mouth harder over hers as our bodies mold together like wax. This is it—our last night living in this delusion—living in the bliss of who we thought we were. My insides shake to have her. A cold sweat breaks out all over me at once. Gage Oliver has left the building. He’s watching from the ceiling as this desperate monster I’ve become devours her. I hold her face to mine, greedy, uncaring of any horrific outcome that our actions might bring because all I want is one more night to be with—be in—the girl I love.
There’s not enough self-control on the planet.
Skyla reaches down and guides me in.
“Just for a second,” she pants in my ear.
My body presses into hers, slowly. Skyla gives my dick a squeeze from the inside, strong as love and death. A groan rips from me loud enough to peel the paint off the walls.
“Gage,” Skyla shouts, digging her nails into my back, pushing me further inside her.
I give a few good thrusts as an entire heated inferno envelops us. Flames from the fire of our lust rise ever higher, and the only two beings in all creation that exist right now are Skyla and me.
“Gage. Gage. Gage!” She shouts so loud, her voice reverberates off my skin.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to it setting something off deep inside me. This is the moment I was made for—loving Skyla exactly in this manner is what I was created for—outside of this, there are no other truths. It’s Skyla and me forever. We were meant to be. I can feel it right down to the marrow in my bones.
I give one thrust after another as my heart hammers over her chest. I can’t control it. There’s no turning back. I let out a roar that carries for miles as the world around us claps into darkness.
Logan
Rain falls like oil, slicking the streets with its greased rivers. The truck skids sideways, three times, on the way to the Gas Lab while the evergreens lash back and forth as if nature itself were protesting some great malfeasance.
“Dude, there aren’t any girls here,” Liam bitches as we get out and duck inside.
“There’s a girl.” I nod over to Ezrina as we take off our jackets.
“Not for me. And I don’t know about you, but the last thing I want to do is shove a hose full of air up my nose.”
“Then have some coffee.”
“I’ll do better than that.” He pulls out his phone and starts texting. The one thing Liam isn’t complaining about is modern conveniences.
The Gas Lab holds the scent of fresh brewed coffee and hot glazed donuts. For the first time in a long time I’m actually looking forward to grabbing a bite in this place.
I head over and take a seat at the bar where Nev and Ezrina are hunched over a laptop.
“What’s going on?” I ask, noting an array of knives and cleavers laid out around her. I’m betting all those sharpened blades make her feel at home.
“Working for him.” Ezrina continues pecking at the keyboard without looking up.
“Working for who?” I look to Nev for help. If Ezrina ever hopes to
integrate into society, she’s going to have to start by using whole sentences.
“Wesley.” Nevermore’s jaw tightens. I’ve seen his predecessor, Pierce Kragger, offer me that exact grimace on more than one occasion.
“Catering a party for the Counts?” Nothing would surprise me. “Make sure you lace the oxygen with nerve gas.”
Ezrina growls. “Genetics tracing compounds.”
“Tracing compounds?” I pull her back by the elbow. “What the hell does Wes have you doing?”
“Please”—Nevermore kindly removes my hand—“refrain from touching my ladylove.” His eyes squint with the warning. “Ezrina has been commissioned to find a way to hide the genetic markers that identify the Nephilim people. The five factions share one extraordinary key. It’s unnoticeable to humans because quite frankly they have no idea what to look for.”
“So we’re marked.” I nod into the idea. “And he wants the ability to remove this indelible stain from our bloodlines.” Wes is up to something, and, if I were a betting man, I’d say the government was a part of his grand plan. “Barron knows what the markers look like. Dr. Flanders knows. A hell of a lot of people know what the markers are. Ask them.”
“I know what they look like. I was the first to discover them.” Ezrina sighs into the screen, and I peer over to see a magnified image of blood cells. “The identifying markers Dr. Oliver and Dr. Flanders can find are linked to an alphabetical orientation that reads like a genetic code. Although, it is the proper ID of a Nephilim, it can easily be mistranslated as malformed nucleic acid.”
I sit stunned by the sheer volume of words Ezrina just unleashed in one sitting. That was quite the alphabetic assault.
“In English,” I say. “What the hell are you doing for Wes and why?”
Ezrina looks up. Her eyes lit like a blaze. “What the hell am I doing?” She gravels it out like a threat. “I am helping my people live to see another day.”
Nev leans in. “Master Wesley approached Rina and asked if there were any way to hide the genetic codes, should the information fall into the wrong hands.”