Logan reaches down and picks me up effortlessly with one arm under both knees, his other supporting my back. “Where to?”
“I need ice.” I whine when I say it. I try not to let on that I’m on the verge of tears. It’s not so much the pain than the embarrassment and extra attention. I never was a big fan of either.
“I know just the place.”
Brielle walks besides us over to his truck.
“There’s no way you’ll get her in there.” She says full with concern over the aerial feat Logan’s ready to attempt.
He has Gage hold open the door and block Brielle’s view in the process as he lifts me safe into the seat as though I were as heavy as a hollowed out egg.
Gage hops in the back and we take off.
“First sunny day in a week and I blow it.”
“Blaming yourself for an injury is a defeatist attitude.” Logan says, looking at the road. “It’s time to relax and let your body heal.”
“Wise and true.” I wave to Gage out the back window.
We turn left instead of right at the light, towards the bowling alley. I live in the direct opposite location so I’m clueless as to where he might be taking me.
“Falls of Virtue?” Actually that’s to the left as well. It’s just my round about way of grilling him for details.
“Nope. I know somewhere with much stronger healing properties. The foods pretty good too.”
“If there’s an ER visit involved, count me out. I hate hospitals almost as much as I hate blood.” A quick spike of panic shoots through me at the possibility.
“No ER, I promise.”
“Is there rutting involved?”
“Only if you want there to be.”
“No thanks.” I wince as I shift my weight.
“There’s a cute yellow lab named Charlie, some hot chocolate, a grilled cheese sandwich, an ice pack and maybe some reality TV.”
“Sounds like heaven.”
“Almost is.”
A black sports car with deep tinted windows swings over into our lane, and just keeps coming. It races towards us without wavering.
“Do something!” I scream in a panic.
The left lane is full of traffic and there’s a steep embankment to our right.
I can’t look. I go to cover my eyes, but as I do I notice the trees outside are at a standstill, the cars alongside us are no longer racing in the other direction, the people in them frozen in horror as they observe what’s about to happen.
The truck however is still moving, flying in slow motion over the oncoming car as we pass it—obnoxiously slow. Logan takes out his phone and snaps a picture of the men in the vehicle.
Then the world speeds up again, and we’re traveling at a normal velocity on the open stretch of road ahead as if nothing had happened at all.
I look over at the truck bed. Gage hops back inside and settles in.
It was him—Gage. He carried us over. Super human strength must be their shared gift.
I wonder what else they can do.
***
Logan and Gage run theories past each other of who those men could have been.
“There’s a meeting at Nicholas Haver’s in two days.” Gage informs him.
“We’re there.” They share a fist bump in the kitchen of their palatial home. Their parents aren’t home and I’m sort of disappointed. I’ve met the uncle, but I’m dying to meet Logan’s aunt, my supposed future mother-in-law. I guess she’d be my mother-in-law either way. I don’t know why, but I’m fascinated with other people’s mothers.
“I want to go.” I interject.
“Go where?” Logan’s busy pulling out the ingredients for our lunch.
“The meeting. It’s a Celestra thing, right?”
“Faction council. You’re a Celestra.” Gage corrects.
“There’s no way you can go.” Logan plucks a pan from underneath the cabinet. “You could endanger yourself. The less people know you have Celestra blood, the better.”
“Once you’re on their radar…” Gage and Logan share a look of discontent.
“Once I’m on their radar they’ll want me dead.”
“Not necessarily right away. They might give you a fighting chance.” Gage folds his arms across his chest.
“Like you?” I direct it over at Logan.
“Apparently I have more than a fighting chance. I’m going to live to a ripe old age, remember?” He darts a look over at Gage.
“We both are.” I confirm.
“Yeah, well. Remember what I said about vegetables.” Gage slaps his hand against the doorframe on the way out of the kitchen.
I’m going to that meeting, neither Logan or Gage can stop me.
I watch as Logan fires up the stove, sprays the pan with oil.
It will all work out in the end, because I’m going to live to be a ripe old age.
A bitter acid rises to the back of my throat.
Live to be a ripe old age.
Gage says so.
If I follow that logic...then I must also believe I’m going to marry him, which I don’t.
Do I?
Chapter Nineteen
Scheme
“Wake up!” My mother tears open the curtains. “Rise and shine and give God your glory, glory!” Her voice grates in my ears. I think I would have appreciated bamboo shoots beneath my fingernails just a little bit more. Her singing solidifies my perpetual bad mood for the day.
A patch of pale sunlight streaks across my lids as I roll over trying to ignore both it and the happy gale force hurricane disguised as my mother.
“Come on, Skyla.” She rattles me by the shoulder. “Tad and I have a surprise for you. Well, not just you, the whole family. Come on.”
The room quiets down. My mother took her fanatical jubilation with her, and the room reverts back to the peace and calm I’ve come to appreciate from it. I try to absorb the tranquility, the lull in the air, in an effort to balance out the agitation my mother drilled into my bones.
I get up on my elbow and peer out the window. Fog softens the harshness of reality, steals the definition from the world—blankets itself around everything as if it were some supernatural form of protection. I’ve come to love Paragon. Its moody days, cool star filled nights, the falls, even the cemetery was a thing of beauty. Most of all I love the people. It’s amazing how connected I feel in just a short period of time. It’s like I’ve always belonged here, like everything else was just a waypoint until I arrived at my final destination.
A hard knock detonates on the other side of the door.
“Now, Skyla!” Tad barks.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and push into my flip-flops before heading downstairs.
***
My mother has her hair done, her good jeans on, make-up in place, and it’s not quite seven-thirty.
A small sprig of hope churns in me at the thought this might be their big divorce announcement. Now that would be a surprise. That’s one announcement I’m very much anticipating.
I plop down on the couch next to Mia and Melissa, while Drake busies himself by pouring a box of cereal down his throat.
“Your father and I have…” my mother starts.
Tad cuts her off with a brief wave. She nods submissively and holds out her hands as if to say take it away.
I hate how he does that to her. It’s not the first time he’s interrupted when she’s about to say something. It’s like he thinks whatever’s about to come out of his mouth is far more important.
“It’s sort of my baby.” He says before continuing. “Allthorpe has set up a meeting for me in Seattle tomorrow, and I thought what better way to get to know the surrounding area than taking a train ride through the local mountains with the family? So, your mother and I,” he drapes his arms over her shoulder. “We’ve decided that it’s going to be our first official family get away.”
“A train?” Mia squeals into Melissa’s face.
“Cool.” Drake pour
s the remainder of milk into his bowl without missing a beat.
“Have fun.” I wipe the sleep from my eyes. The thought of having the house to myself for the weekend sounds more than delicious.
“We will have fun. With you.” My mother chides. “This is non negotiable.”
“If she’s not going I’m not going.” Drake says with a full mouth.
“Oh no, he’s going. I’m not staying in house alone with him.” I’m sure he’ll have Brielle over the second they hit the bottom of the driveway. I’m not interested in bearing witness to another fuck-fest.
“You’re both going. Everybody get ready. We want to try and make the afternoon ferry. Tad gather’s his briefcase from off the kitchen counter and heads upstairs.
“I’m not going.” I look dead on at my mother. If she really wants a challenge I’ll give her one.
“Why, Skyla? Why?” She doesn’t bother hiding her exasperation.
Mia and Melissa amble upstairs in a frenzy of excitement.
“Because…” I pause considering my options. “I have my period.” I give a sly smile over to Drake while my mother busies herself in the kitchen. “Monster, debilitating cramps.” I groan, clutching at my abdomen.
“Gross.” Drake does a magnificent disappearing act.
“Do you really have monster cramps?” She stops short from scrubbing the granite counter raw.
“Yes.” I have my fingers crossed. I absolutely hate lying with a passion, but if it means getting me off of a seventy-two hour detail with the step monkey—where I would be confined in a glorified casket as we gawk at landscape, I’ll do it.
“I’d be napping the whole time and…” Tad walks by in the middle of my spiel. “If I’m sleeping in a drug induced coma I can’t appreciate the scenery, and you’ll be wasting all that money on the ferry, not to mention food and lodging.”
Tad’s ears pull back so far he looks like a rat.
“You can stay.” He continues on to the kitchen.
“What do you mean, she can stay?” My mother objects.
“She’s right. She can sleep here for free. It saves us at least a hundred dollars and face it, we need that hundred dollars.” His posture straightens as he says it.
Chalk one up for me. I’ll keep his tight-wad ways in mind more often.
My mother glares over at me. Tad walks back down the hall leaving my mother to penetrate me freely with her hostile laser eyes.
“You win.” She says without emotion. “But don’t think you’re any less a member of this family.” She walks past me, her jeans rubbing up against each other as her legs scissor out of the room in a fury.
I won.
I’ll be at that faction council meeting tomorrow night, and nobody can stop me.
Chapter Twenty
Dream
It takes a small eternity for Tad and mom to organize the troops, or what’s left of them. By the time the girls and Drake shower they’ve already missed the first ferry, so I have to remain doubled over on the couch a lot longer than anticipated. My mother makes sure I take a pain pill under her guise, because God forbid I should be left alone with a bottle of glorified Aspirin, and yet they don’t lock up the liquor. It doesn’t matter. I don’t drink—hate the flavor—hate the feeling.
By the time I lock the door behind them I’m feeling super sleepy so I head on up to my room and crash.
She comes to me in a dream. It’s that oh crap moment when you realize the dream you’re having, the one that started out perfectly normal, has morphed into a nightmare and now all you want is to claw out of it like a cat at the bottom of a hopelessly deep well.
Skyla. She calls to me down a very long hall. It’s dark, save for the light emanating from an open door. I can see the frame of a woman, dark hair flowing like tendrils. I know it’s her. I can feel it, feel her.
Whatdo you want? I cry out to her. This is no vague panic gripping me. There is a very real danger here. My heart jumps in my throat, vibrating tenaciously like a fish out of water. I think I might be dying.
You have enemies, Skyla. I didn’t think I had them, but I was warned and didn’t listen. If you’re not careful there’s a shallow grave that waits for you.
That’s not what Gage said. It’s funny how now, in my dream, I’ve accepted him as the final authority over my future.
I said the grave waited for you. I never said you’d be in it. They want to torture you. She holds out her arm exposing long precision cut gashes. They did this to me. I was one of the lucky ones. I was only there twelve days. They could keep you a lifetime. They’re not interested in your pain, Skyla. You need to stay away from the faction council. And most of all steer clear of Logan. Your life depends on it. Or else everything you know will change. And you’ll spend the rest of your life running.
Don’t come to me again. I tremble holding onto the wall. It quivers with me. I can feel the vibration trailing up my shoulder, down my back and through my legs.
If that’s what you wish. Chloe evaporates into nothing more than a smoky film.
I bolt up out of bed soaked in sweat, my shirt clinging to me cold as ice.
Why would she want me to steer clear of Logan? She can’t still want him for herself—she’s dead. Someone needs to refresh the rules of a successful relationship with her. Then again, if I loved Logan and lost him, I wouldn’t be above haunting his new girlfriend. What’s a little nightmare, now and again?
***
Since I’m alone for the very first time ever—I do what any other red-blooded American girl would do, invite my boyfriend over.
I clean for the next several hours. I had no idea what a freaking mess Mia and Melissa were capable of. They’ve got clothes behind the sofa, under the cushions, a trail of trash that snakes around the entire house, and the downstairs bathroom looks like a make-up factory exploded. And by the way, why aren’t mom and Tad all over their butts for the carnage they create? Not that they’re entirely after mine, still.
A gentle knock emanates from the front door. I smooth down the lace top I borrowed from Brielle last week. I try to push the fact it’s the same top she wore on her sexcapade with Drake out of my mind, but unlike her I’m wearing a bra and not planning on stripping off the shirt first chance I get, or the second.
“Hi!” I motion for him to come inside.
Logan is resplendent. He looks polished, like a male model. He’s wearing an unfamiliar cologne that smells sweet and spicy at the same time. I can’t resist wrapping my arms around him and giving him a soft gentle kiss. Something warms my chest so I pull back a bit. He’s holding a white paper bag that smells like Italian food.
“Dinner.” He holds it up triumphantly.
I turn on the TV and we sit side by side eating our Italian eggplant sandwiches.
“So I had this freaky dream.” A huff of laughter escapes my chest to let him know I totally don’t believe in stuff like that.
“Oh really?” He puts down his plate on the coffee table and knocks back the rest of his soda. “Tell me all about it.”
“It was about Chloe.” I put it out there.
He shifts in his seat, straightening his back against the cushion.
“It was stupid.”
“She say something to you?”
I wonder if he wants to hear some weepy romantic message—to know that she’s still fighting for him on the other side.
“It was freaky. I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“If she has a message, I want to know what it is.” He caresses my hand, clasps our fingers tight.
“I know what you’re doing.”
Then tell me.
“She doesn’t think I should go to the council meeting tomorrow night.”
And you won’t. Logan looks certain, but more than that, like he won’t allow it.
“I have a right to be there. Besides she ended it with all this psychobabble about me steering clear of you. Are you happy? She’s trying to meddle in our relationship from the great
beyond.”
“Relationship?” The curve of a smile replaces his heavy look of concern.
Oh God, I used the R word—and to a guy. Next thing you know I’ll be telling him he’s my boyfriend.
I’lltake that title. He pulls me up over to his lap. No council meeting. Promise me.
“Oh I promise.” I force myself to clear my mind of any unnecessary clutter. Why waste precious time with my new boyfriend when the meeting is an entire twenty-four hours away?
Chapter Twenty-One
Unrest
It’s ten after midnight and Logan is pressing me to let him sleep on the downstairs couch.
“No.”
“Why not? Won’t you sleep better knowing I’m down here protecting you?”
“No. I’ll want to be down here, doing this.” I squeeze my arms tight around his waist. “Then neither of us will get a good night’s rest. Plus I’ll have to lie to my mother again when she asks if any boys stayed over. I’ve met my quota on lying for the month.”
“That’s noble.” He says without enthusiasm. He gets up off the couch slowly, helping me up in the process. “I open tomorrow.” He presses into a dry smile. “If you start dying of boredom you’re welcome to join me.”
“Gee thanks.” I tilt my head to the side in an effort to emphasize my sarcasm. I hadn’t really thought about a job yet. I guess I need to see what kind of load I’m stuck with next semester. I’d hate to be doing my homework on the job.
“The job’s yours if you want it and I’ll let you get away with doing your homework on the side.”
“It creeps me out when you do that.”
“Only because you keep forgetting. I’m not trying to pry. It’s just out there—loud as speaking.”
“I know. Anyway. So when will I see you?”
“After my shift I have a two hour window before Gage and I head out to the meeting. What are you going to be up to?”
“Just hanging with Bree. Come over before you leave.”
“You got it.”
We stand in the doorframe of the dark moonless night savoring our goodnight kiss. The cool night air breezes past us circling my bare ankles with its arctic chill.