Page 10 of Celestra: Books 1-2


  “Emma.” Her fingers are frozen, so limp she barely moves within my seemingly harsh grasp.

  “Skyla.”

  Logan’s uncle enters and gives a slight wave. He looks over my shoulder and nods.

  “Giving her the breakdown I see. I should have the blood work completed in a weeks time. I’m running a very detailed panel, that way we’ll know for sure if you’re Celestra or a mix or anything at all. Sometimes that happens. But if you’re a mix we go by what you have more of. It’s just easier for labeling purposes.”

  “Great. I look forward to it.”

  They exit with polite nods and smiles. Second thought, my mother would eat her for breakfast, and Tad would embarrass the hell out of me. It’s probably best they never meet. But of course now that I don’t want them to…

  “We should have your parents over,” Logan suggests as though he’s just had some great epiphany.

  “Is one of your abilities causing super humiliation?”

  He frowns.

  “They’ll meet one day.” He starts drawing boxes around all the faction names. “Levatio. The lucky bastards as I like to call them.”

  “Are they lucky?” I’m fascinated to learn more about them, especially since Gage is one.

  “Not really. They’ve got strength and speed, the knowing, teleportation.”

  “How cool is that?” Now I totally wish Gage were here so he could bolt around the room.

  “Noster’s same as Levatio with the exception they can see through walls, and oh yeah, both can levitate.”

  “As in fly?”

  “It’s not long range or anything, they can’t orbit the earth, but yes.”

  “That’s so freaking fantastic,” I say dazzled by all these strange superpowers.

  He drops his pen and folds his hands together.

  “And what about us?” I take hold of his eyes with mine. An electrical current sizzles between us. He’s stunning and sharp, and annoyingly outright elusive with information.

  “Read minds.” He holds out his hands and shrugs. “Strength, speed.” His expression clouds over. “Time travel.”

  26

  Principles

  Time travel.

  The word goes off like a gong long after Logan expelled it. He said he couldn’t really elaborate, that maybe we could talk about it later so I just let it go. Just the idea was enough to satiate me for now.

  Gage comes in at three in the morning and says the exact words I don’t want to hear.

  “Party’s still going strong.”

  “We should get back there.” I spike up on the couch and stab my eyes around in the dark, in an effort to wake up. Logan put on a DVD, and then we started kissing and I must have fallen asleep.

  I look over at Logan totally embarrassed and guilty.

  “I really do love kissing you,” I say stupidly.

  He looks mildly amused.

  “Stay here,” Logan pulls me in, “you’re going to want to kick everyone out. No point in being a buzz kill. Besides, it’ll be four by the time we get there.”

  He’s right.

  “I won’t be able to sleep knowing they’re destroying the house.”

  “Nobody’s destroying anything.” Gage flops on the couch opposite us. “Ellis was having a goodtime, didn’t want to come home.”

  “You have a goodtime?” I’d feel kind of bad if Gage said no. There were tons of girls there—girls that would have been supermodels back home, raking in millions.

  A twinge of jealousy cinches in my stomach, and I shake my head trying to get rid of the feeling. I’m into Logan. I don’t need Gage. I could care less if he were with ten girls at once.

  “So you up on all the celestial B.S.?” He asks.

  “It’s not B.S.,” I shoot back. My father was one, and I don’t like him talking that way.

  “Sorry.” He covers the top of his head with a pillow. “You guys try anything out?”

  I shake my head. Logan, for whatever reason, doesn’t seem that into exploring powers with me.

  “Maybe I’ll help you out sometime,” Gage offers.

  “Maybe you won’t,” Logan counters.

  “I want to,” I say. “I want to try things out. And you said my powers could grow. It’s like a muscle, right? The more you use it the stronger it gets?”

  “No.” The whites of Logan’s eyes widen. “The more you use it the more trouble you can get into. Definitely not like that.”

  “I know enough to be careful.”

  “You know enough to be dangerous,” Logan speeds it out.

  We sit there with our eyes glinting back and forth at one another like ping-pongs.

  I don’t like the chains of restraint Logan puts over me. I’m not an infant, and according to Gage, I can’t get myself killed.

  I look from Logan to Gage. I might have to take Gage up on his offer. It’s Logan’s own fault if I end up going behind his back.

  I want to know what I’m capable of. I want to feel it. And if I really can time travel, maybe I can save my father?

  ***

  Sunday afternoon I head back home.

  Gage was right. The house wasn’t destroyed. It was merely decimated.

  I walk stunned from room to room. The kitchen has a lawn chair I’ve never seen before dangling out of the sink.

  The couch is configured differently in the living room and every single cushion is nowhere to be seen. The curtains have been yanked down on one side, and there’s a clear slit down the center where the light comes through, and if its mocking me.

  “I’m toast.” I sludge through empty beer bottles and soda cans, mystery wrappers and some unidentifiable things until I hit the stairs. A trail of dark liquid has been poured on the first five steps, and something gummy is stuck to the rest of the carpet leading on up.

  I check Drake’s room first. His bed is unmade and to tell the truth I have no clue if that’s normal. Mia and Melissa’s room looks untouched. Both bunks are still laden with stuffed animals arranged face out and in size order, so that’s a no. Next is my room.

  My freaking room.

  Brielle is sprawled out on the bed stark naked with her shoes still on. I run over and throw my t-shirt on her from off the floor in an effort to cover the insanity.

  “You sleep with somebody in here?” I don’t really care that she cheated on Drake, it’s just that I’m going to have to burn the bed, that’s all.

  She gives a guilty laugh, bearing her teeth in an awkward manner a little too long.

  I head back out the hall and shut the door tight. Thank God Logan didn’t venture in behind me.

  My parent’s room is next. The door sticks, and my heart drops thinking someone might be bolted in there. I bust through and there’s no one except one very rumpled bed and I’m absolutely positive my anal, male chauvinist pig of a stepfather would not have allowed my mother to leave it this way. He’d hogtie her in apron strings and chain her to the bedpost if she tried to get away with crap like this.

  “I’m going to die. My parents are going to execute the world’s harshest judgment upon me and I’ll never leave the house again. We need to go back in time,” I plead to Logan.

  He shakes his head looking mournful over the situation.

  “You can’t use that for something like this. It falls under domestic detail. I’ll call Gage. We’ll clean up as much as we can.”

  Nat and Kate swing by as well. We manage to get all the trash off the floors and recover all but one of the sofa cushions. It looks toothless, with three brown cushions and one white gaping space with nothing but the spring cover below.

  I collect the bedding from Mom and Tad’s room and start the wash. It’s going to take three hours before I wash all of those fat, fuzzy blankets, and that oversized comforter will never dry by tonight.

  “I might be homeless after today.” I let Logan cradle me in the living room. I find his lips and forget about the whole mess my life has turned into.

  The front door
jiggles, and a pair of footsteps make their way over.

  I look up expecting to see Gage or Bree or anyone else. But I don’t. Instead I see my mother.

  27

  Red Handed

  Tad, Drake, and the girls tumble in after my mom.

  “Skyla Laurel Messenger, get yourself upstairs now,” she shrieks. “And excuse me, mister who kisses my daughter in my living room, you can find the front door thank you very the hell much!” Her voice hits that upper register I haven’t heard in years since she had one of her famous blowouts with my father.

  I head on up and pause at the top.

  “Oh, my, word,” she screams.

  I can hear her roaming deeper and deeper, and now Tad is shouting something, and they seem to be shouting in unison and at each other at the same time. I see Nat and Kate leave. Logan’s truck rolls down the driveway, so Gage must have went out the back.

  “What’s going on?” Brielle staggers out of my bedroom.

  I motion her back inside and press my finger to my lips.

  Mia and Melissa gallop upstairs lugging their overnight bags.

  “You’re in deep shit,” Mia whispers as they saunter past me.

  Drake comes up and sees Brielle.

  “Cool.” He relaxes into a dorky grin and they go off in his room together.

  I can’t believe this. I let Brielle convince me into doing something that I knew, I knew, was a very bad idea. I feel like beating myself, giving myself black eyes over the entire event, but I know my mother will probably do that for me.

  Heavy footsteps ignite in this direction. I duck into my bedroom and shut myself in.

  A choir of disappointed murmurs buzz through the other side of the door, then a violent shriek when my mother, most likely, sees her unmade bed.

  My door swings open and I huddle in the corner fearing for my life.

  “Get out here now.” She annunciates every single word.

  Reluctantly I exit the safety of my bedroom and head into the hall.

  “Who did you have in this house this weekend? And I know that lot of not so innocent looking kids helping you clean was just the tip of the iceberg.”

  “All the trashcans are filled with beer bottles,” Tad shouts.

  “Skyla!” My mother rages.

  “I didn’t drink. I swear!”

  “Well bully for you,” Mom sings. “That means I had a bunch of drunk teenagers at my house, and if anything happens to them because of their little trip to Landon tavern, it’s on my head!”

  I shrink back. I hate seeing my mother this mad. I hate the sound of her voice when it’s locked in anger.

  “Did you have sex with that boy here?”

  “No.” My hands fly up over my ears. We’ve definitely drifted into the relationship no-fly zone. “I’m a virgin. I swear.” File that under things I never thought I’d scream out loud.

  “Yeah, well, too bad there’s no surefire way to tell because I really don’t believe you.”

  And there’s another riff in our already deteriorating relationship.

  “She’s probably on drugs, too.” Tad paces in a frantic circle. I bet he regrets marrying my mother, regrets the sloppy baggage she dragged into it like some stench-riddled carcass.

  “And why is the minivan parked in the street?” My mother demands.

  “Because the driveway was full.” There, I said the truth.

  “You don’t have a license.” I can feel the heat of her breath as she roars an inch from my nose.

  “And it smells like a bear took a shit in there.” Tad matches her tone.

  “Maybe it did,” I offer.

  “There are no bears on Paragon,” Tad screams into me on his way to the bedroom.

  I can hear the shower turn on from Drake’s room. He’s probably in there with the hellion responsible for this carnage while I occupy the ‘rents with my Brielle-inspired shenanigans. I’m suddenly regretting we ever met.

  “Get to your room until I think of an ample and just punishment.” Disappointment seethes from her pores, all directed right at me.

  “You ever wish I was in that car with Dad?” The words tumble from my lips bypassing the brain filter on their way out.

  “Skyla,” her whole affect softens, “don’t ever say that.” She pulls a loose strand of hair and tucks it behind my ear. “I knew you were probably going to have a party.”

  Great. She thinks the worst of me. Technically it was Brielle who had the party, Brielle who had sex in my bed, and Brielle who’s most likely doing that exact same thing right now under her nose.

  “When I was your age I did the same thing.”

  “Oh.” I can’t even imagine my mother my age. “You get in trouble?”

  “No. I never got caught.”

  I raise my fingers over my mouth in surprise.

  “I clean better than you.” She walks down the hall to her bedroom and shuts the door.

  I head over to Drake’s room and knock on the door to give them a scare. A scrambling sound emits from inside, then silence.

  No reason Brielle should have all the fun, although being with Drake is technically a punishment. Obviously she’s a sadist.

  I head over to my room and close the door.

  My mother—I track through my memory trying to recall her ever mentioning her youth. I know she grew up near the waterfront. My grandparents died a few years back. She has a sister in Idaho. That’s all I really know about my mom. Is she a member of an angel faction? How exactly does one go about asking their mother if they are, in any way, a supernatural being?

  I yank the covers off my bed and drop onto the bare mattress.

  I don’t know how, but I’m going to make it a point to find out.

  28

  Ninjas

  Days drag on. I familiarize myself with the nuances of my bedroom. Sometimes I sit in the walk-in closet with the lights off and text Logan for hours. Apparently ample punishment doesn’t include taking away my cell or my computer. I’m thrilled actually. My room feels more like a safe haven rather than a prison.

  My mother gives a mild knock before entering.

  “You up for a chore?”

  “Yes,” I say hesitantly. Obviously no would have been the wrong answer. I try to assess her mood, but the only clue as to how she might be feeling is that bright pink ruffled shirt. It screams take-me-to-the-circus-and-put-me-on-the-first-clown-you-see.

  “I need to do a bunch of paperwork for Tad, so I’m going to ask you to take Mia and Melissa back-to-school shopping for me.

  I perk up at the thought. Outside? In a car?

  “I’ll drop you guys off, just call when you need to get picked up. I know it seems like I’m going soft on you, but summer’s going to end in a couple weeks.” She lets her shoulders rise and fall. “Who knows, maybe I am getting soft. Be ready in fifteen.”

  I flip off my bed and text Logan. I think we’re about to have an accidental meeting.

  ***

  I pretend to absorb myself in a novel on the way to the mall, so my mother might hold off on the inquisition. I’m still waiting for a thorough line of questioning involving Logan since she caught us in a heavy-duty lip lock.

  We file out of the van, and I wave her off. Mia and Melissa are armed with cash, and per my mother’s wicked plan, I am not. I didn’t fight my mother on that one. I’m sure new clothes are in the cards for me, just not today, or perhaps not ‘till I’m thirty.

  We head into the Paragon West End mall. It’s busier than the last time I was here by several hundred people. Must be the end of summer sale and back to school bustle all rolled into one. I see Logan over by the giant fountain and wave.

  “OK. So you guys are going to stick together, and you have enough money for lunch and a movie, right?”

  “Oh, we can totally see a movie!” Melissa clutches my sister’s arm.

  “Or two or three,” I suggest. “Look, I have my cell. Just call me when you’re ready to go. I’m going to hang out, kay?”
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  They wander down the corridor and disappear into a juniors dress shop, bubbling with excitement.

  I envy Mia. I wish I had a sister my age rather than Drake. At least I have Logan to take the edge off.

  He greets me with a kiss.

  “Let’s blow this joint.” I tick my head toward the parking lot. The last thing I need is spotting Mia and Melissa every five minutes. They’re totally safe. I can feel it in my creaky bones. It’s not like I left them alone—they’re not seven. They’re thirteen.

  ***

  “So where you taking me?” We’ve got the windows rolled down and the wind thrashes my hair around.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  We drive for a half hour past the falls. I’m completely nervous about how far away I’ve gotten from the girls. He pulls down a tiny dirt road with a big white-planked sign that reads Black Forest.

  It’s more than a thicket of pine trees. It’s a denseness that I’ve never seen before. Walls of emerald fur line the roadway impenetrable by man or beast.

  He drives down to a clearing, and we get out of the truck.

  “You take all the girls here?” Really I don’t want an answer to that one.

  “I don’t think I’ve taken anyone here.” He leads me down a small stone path that leads into a smaller clearing, deep in the forest where you could feasibly only arrive on foot.

  “It’s kind of creepy.” Even though I’m with Logan, I feel entirely vulnerable.

  Don’t. We’re safe. He walks over and snaps a one foot round branch off a tree, easy as snapping a pretzel.

  Words garble in my throat. I can’t seem to push any of them out.

  “I’m going to teach you how to do that.” He launches into one of his wild grins.

  “I’m all ears.” I walk over and stand next to him.

  “First, you determine that you can do this. Before you choose what you’re going to do with your strength, you need to believe.”

  “OK. So I believe I can pluck this branch off.” I choose a far smaller, more meager branch to target.