“By the way,” I start, “I’m totally unaffected. You and Gage can live happily ever after for all I care.” The lie jags from my lips, thick and unnatural like talking though a mouthful of peanut butter. “And, technically speaking, it was you who speared me.” Literally.
“You’re always so black and white,” she snarks.
“I’m being sarcastic, Chloe. Maybe you’re the one who can’t see past the analogy in the room.”
“I can look past a lot of things thanks to this Noster eyeball your Sector friend was kind enough to gift me. Why do you think he gave me such a spectacular specimen?”
“Because he was trying to please me.” Marshall would do anything in the world I asked as long as he were able. “Again, you can’t see past the deeper meaning of things.”
“And, again, Skyla—you can’t see past yourself.” She pulls in high on the driveway, right behind Tad’s free ride from Althorpe, the establishment at which he is a modern day indentured servant. “But then,” she says, shaking her head, “for some bizarre reason, Dudley, too seems beyond smitten with you.” She sticks her finger down her throat. “Fill me in on the powers of your persuasion. Do tell. I mean, we’re practically sisters now that we’re living together. And, one day, I might even become your sister-in-law just to piss you off.”
“What about Gage?” I’m stunned to hear she’d choose a Landon over an Oliver, especially the shady Oliver in question.
Chloe presses into her seat for a moment. Her face flashes with surprise as though she had just caught herself off guard.
Strange.
Chloe Bishop is a fully devout follower in the church of all things Gage. How she could possibly forget the first commandment—to worship ad nauseam and commit herself to full-throttle obsessive behavior is beyond me.
“What’s the matter, Chloe?” I revel in the taunt. “Gage still locking you out physically? You running a little short on cash to buy his affections? That is how you got Brielle to befriend me, right? A thousand cool, crisp bills?”
Her dark hair coils around her face, her sharp features gleam with pride under the glimmer of the porch light.
“You know…” I tilt my head into the vibrating glass of the window as I feel the rain drum its rhythm through my temples like a cheap replica of Marshall’s special brand of oscillating love. “I thought all I felt for you was hatred, but to be honest, you’re not worth the energy.”
“The feeling’s mutual.” She’s quick to add.
“In fact, I feel nothing but pity. You spend all of your energy destroying others so you can steal the good things from their lives and claim them as your own. You played so well into Demetri’s plan of killing my father, Ethan, bringing me to Paragon. Why have a well-placed boyfriend at all? Why the big ruse of the diary? Why pretend he hated you? Why put him on your shit list in the back of your diary and not Logan? Why have Gage by my side twenty-four seven whispering his profession of love to me, outfitting me with tokens of his affection? Touching me like he meant it. What were you so afraid of? Was it Logan and me you were trying to keep apart all along? The Counts did that without your foolish aid. I really don’t get you, Chloe. I don’t get your stupid games or why the hell you’ve invited yourself to live at my house and date my stepbrother. Why are you so richly invested in taking me down? Obviously, I missed something because nothing about you makes any sense.”
“You killed me.”
“Only after a long list of grievances you imparted on me and my family. Killing my father tops off the list.” I fire back. “I’m onto you, Chloe. I know for a fact there is a bigger picture brewing. I will find out whatever the hell has you so riled up against me. And even though I haven’t a clue what you have planned next on your make-Skyla-miserable to-do list, I can tell you with confidence that you will not prosper. You will never take me down. I will not lie under your feet, not now, not ever. I will win. I’ll have love and happiness and the very last word on any lame-ass decision the Faction Council tries to make after the war. You and the rest of the Counts will be beneath Celestra. I will stamp out your wickedness once and for all.”
“Are you done?” She flips her hair bored with the conversation.
“Not by a long shot. When I’m done, you will wish you never knew me—that you ran in the opposite direction once you heard the whisper of my name.” I pause and take her in. “All you’re good for is manufacturing drama and manipulating people. I guess that’s the sort of thing Gage is into. I wish you a very unhappy life together.”
I open the door, and Chloe snatches me back by the wrist.
“I will have a very happy life, Skyla. For the record, I have never once paid Gage for his time or affections.” Her chest heaves into her words. “I paid him for yours.”
I kick the door wide open and run like hell inside the house.
Chapter 27
Dreamer
I speed up to my room and shut the door. I wish I could say that Chloe’s words had no effect on me—that the idea of her paying Gage to be my anything was so entirely absurd that I could laugh it off, brush it off my shoulder, insignificant as dandruff, but I can’t. Gage told me Chloe never paid her. It was one of the first things I asked him—accused him of, that day in the morgue. So who do I believe?
I kick off my shoes and get ready for bed. Brush my teeth like I’m trying to scour both Chloe and Gage off my person right along with my enamel. I turn the lights out and crawl under the covers, listening as Mia and Melissa argue on the other side of the wall. Their voices rumble in competition with the thunder outside. It feels as though Paragon, and the people on it, have become a nothing but a fortress of hatred.
Gage and his impenetrable love for me, all of it evaporated like smoke. Chloe held the mirror to this illusion. She worked me like a puppet, told me what emotions to feel, how far to let them seep into my soul, and I complied like an obedient child. Turns out I’m not just Demetri’s, Marshall’s, or even my biological mother’s pawn. I was very much subject to the queen bitch herself. None of it makes sense—especially anything to do with Gage.
I close my eyes and try to pretend that the last few weeks were all a bad dream, some nightmare that engulfed me so completely it felt nothing short of real. I’ve had those kinds of dreams before, the kind that tap you emotionally, and then you wake up relieved that it was simply a nocturnal hallucination, the byproduct of a bad midnight snack.
What I wouldn’t give to wake up from this nightmare, to have Gage back with all of his genuine affection, his undying forever love. But I can’t.
I squeeze my eyes shut and marinate in the Gage I believed in. He heals this incredible ache and tells me it will all be OK. I reflect on that strange dream I had when I fell into the tunnels, Gage wrapped around me with his warm limbs. His legs hooked around mine, his hot hands riding over my hips. The sweet, tender way he told me I was his wife and kissed me on the neck like he had done it a thousand times before. He was loving me in the most intimate way possible, and I hate that it was just a dream.
I let it burn through me like a memory, like a premonition, a vision. But it was none of those things. It was nothing more than a hopeless wish that will never come true.
I don’t know how I’ll ever get over Gage Oliver.
But I’m damn well going to try.
***
A field emerges in this dreamscape. A lavender sky dips to navy with a smattering of crystalline stars. Soft rolling hills stretch out infinitely, covered with a field of weeping willows as far as the eye can see.
“Very romantic,” I say, walking over to Logan, who’s resting nearby.
“I try.” He sits up and pats the grass beside him. “What’s going on? You look upset.”
“I had a horrible encounter with Chloe,” I say, scooting in next to him.
Logan slips his arm around my waist and draws me in. “Every encounter with Chloe is awful.”
“You got that right.”
“You have a chance to talk with
Gage?” He tempers his words with an apprehensive look. I’m not sure what Logan’s motivation is. Maybe he wants me to solidify the fact Gage is an asshole before we dive back into a relationship together. I can’t believe I ever let Gage pull us apart.
“Nope. Well, he tried, but I shut him down.” I tell him all about my psychotic conversation with Chloe in the car. The idea of her paying him is enough fodder to sponsor my insanity for a lifetime. No matter how much I don’t want to admit it, Chloe Bishop really has won.
“She hasn’t won anything, Skyla.” Logan squeezes my hand. “And paying Gage? She’s lying. Look, I’m not going to defend his actions, but I really encourage you to hear him out.”
“Have you?”
“Yes.” He looks wild-eyed at the prospect that he wouldn’t. “He’s dying, Skyla. This has literally taken his existence and stomped all over it. He loves you. It’s real. You have to know that.”
“Whose side are you on anyway? And by the way—what about us?” I lie down and land my head in his lap so I could gaze up at his divinely anointed features. “You are a thing of beauty, you know that?” I whisper, captivated by Logan. “It was you in the vision I had—the one of the groom waiting for me at the end of the aisle. Never Gage.” My stomach tightens at the thought.
Logan sags in defeat. He offers a depleted smile while combing his fingers through my hair. “I won’t deny the fact we’re going to happen.”
“You’re not still clinging to that ‘after the faction war’ maxim, right? I mean, the playing field has been cleared—Gage is no longer a contender. It was you for me from the beginning. So, obviously, it’s you for me in the end. I want it to be. I never stopped having feelings for you.” A writhing ache churns in my belly. I wish it was like a faucet, and I could shut off all thoughts of Gage, destroy the valve from ever pouring out a drop of affection for him ever again.
“I know,” he whispers, tangling his fingers in my hair.
Everything I say in here is fair game for Logan’s mind.
“I’m sorry. I wish I never knew him.”
Logan clenches his jaw. “But you do and so do I.” His gaze darts off across the way. “Our future happens, Skyla, just not right away.”
“Wow.” I give a hard blink. “You’re still into that whole get-Gage-out-of-your-system thing. Well, I swear, he’s out. Him and his venomous fake love.” Our relationship was fraudulent on every level. I should sue him.
Logan shakes his head just barely. “It’s not fake,” he whispers, “never that.”
A violent fit of giggles erupts from across the hillside.
“What the hell was that?” I spike up and try to discern their origin. God, what if Fems have figured out a way to penetrate Logan’s dreams—worse yet, Chloe.
“That’s sort of the surprise I had for you.” He gives a gentle massage to my shoulders and nods out toward a curtain of trees across the expanse.
A young woman emerges. She darts around the trunk of a willow wearing a white, flowing dress. A man appears. He chases and snatches at her until he reels her in victoriously. They engage in a long heated kiss, nothing but grunts and moans expel from them as if they haven’t shared a lip-lock in centuries.
“This isn’t about to morph into some porn fantasy, is it?” I shoot Logan a look. I’m not entirely sure how much of his dreamscape Logan can really control.
“Maybe—maybe not.” His brows furrow as he continues to gaze out at the viral display of mouth to mouth. Their hands begin to rove over one another with a heated rush as they drop to their knees.
The man pulls her back by the shoulders and murmurs something. She shakes her head and tries unsuccessfully to drag him off to the forest, but he rises and pulls her in our direction instead.
“Is this going to be trouble? Because I so wouldn’t mind waking up if it is. I’m totally not into action flicks.” I get enough of that in real life.
“I doubt this is trouble. He probably just wants to say hello.” Logan helps me to my feet. “Besides,” he leans in and whispers, “you already know him.”
“I do?” I squint into him as he approaches. He doesn’t even look vaguely familiar. He’s tall with dark wavy hair—pretty, light blue eyes like my own. He sort of leans in when he walks as though he were perennially ready to descend a staircase, and he’s grinning at the two of us. I should be creeped out, but something about him resonates a calm feeling in me.
“Dear young, Skyla, you’ve done another foolish thing.” He pants through a smile. “I gather you have no clue who I am.” He gives a slight bow. “Forgive me, I’m without my plumage at the moment.” He picks up my hand and places a gentle kiss over the back.
“Nev?” My mouth falls open.
“The one and only.” His brows bounce with delight.
“Who’s that woman?” No sooner do I get the words out than the beautiful brunette races to his side. “Oh God,” I mouth the words.
“Skyla,” Logan intercedes, “meet Nevermore and Ezrina.”
Chapter 28
True Love Never Dies
I swallow hard. There are so many problems with this scenario I don’t even know where to begin.
Ezrina stands next to Nev—Heathcliff—both of them look amazing, dare I even say Ezrina is drop-dead gorgeous.
“Am I hallucinating?” I turn to Logan. Maybe I accidentally wandered into the wrong dream and this is some Fem-inspired nightmare that’s about to take a serious fucking turn for the worse. I have a sneaking suspicion that “elegant Ezrina” here is about to morph back into the hatchet princess that I know and love.
“No, I swear, this is real.” Logan presses out a dull smile. He knows he’s in serious hot water on some level, and mostly it has to do with me.
“Logan offered to extend his dream world to the two of us,” Nev says, filling me in, “so we could spend some much needed alone time together.” He takes up both Ezrina’s hands, careful as if they were each their own dove, and looks lovingly into her eyes.
“Why are you letting them into your dreams?” I gasp. I happen to know for a fact that my mother, the chief celestial justice, appointed them an eternal punishment in opposite realms and dimensions for their heinous crime of defending Celestra. Stupid as it sounds, I’m pretty damn sure breaking said punishment is not going to prove to be a brilliant idea.
“It’s a bargaining tool,” Nev answers for him. “In exchange for Logan’s unconventional request, we spend time here in our own personal Eden.” He gazes dreamily at Ezrina once again. I can’t get over how gorgeous she is. It’s alarming on some level to think that’s really her. “Although I don’t quite agree with any of this,” Nev continues, “nevertheless, I’m party to it now, and I can’t say I regret a thing.” He smiles down at Ezrina with undying affection. “Skyla, would you be so kind to join us in a binding union before we continue our foray of affection?”
“Would I what?” This is really starting to mess with my head. This is some serious rabbit hole action, and it has me taking a mental inventory of everything I may have accidentally ingested in the past twenty-four hours. I knew nothing good would come from hitching a ride home with Chloe. She probably had the seat laced with hallucinogenics.
“Declare us husband and wife, before Logan and God.” Nev stretches his neck with a quick jerk just the way he does while locked in the body of a raven. “Perhaps say some kind words first.”
“Oh, um, Nev? Do you take Ezrina to love and to hold, and to spend the rest of your lives together—no wait—do you love each other enough to spend all of eternity bound together by a holy covenant under God?” Marshall would be so proud. Or not.
They look at one another forlorn as though my words could never be.
“Unfortunately”—Nev sighs without ever wavering from her eyes—“the curse we’ve acquired forbids such a prosperous future.” He depresses a kiss on her forehead.
“We have now.” Ezrina sounds normal in every way, not a word echoes in triplicate or spews out like
gravel. “Come.” She tries to steal him away.
“Skyla?” Nev bids me to continue.
“Do you, Heathcliff…” I pause in the event he explodes. Nev has a tendency to go batshit when I invoke his real name, but in this instant, he doesn’t, he just continues to smile like a lunatic who’s about to get laid. “Take Ezrina”—she offers a warm smile—“to be your…” This wouldn’t really be lawful or eternal, nor would any of that death do you part crap apply. “Wife?” Keep it simple.
“I do.” He swims with joy. “I most certainly do.”
“And Ezrina,” I pause. She takes me in with those serious brown eyes. The slight curve of a smile plays on her lips. “Do you swear never to sever a limb from my body again as well as love Heathcliff as your very own husband?” I thought it wise to toss in that first part in the event once we all wake up from this psychotic stupor she’s moved to rearrange body parts.
She turns to Nev. “I will love you with my every mortal instrument both physical and spiritual that the Master has provided.”
They don’t wait for me to officiate any further or instruct them to conjoin at the lips. They simply fall into a natural, lingering kiss that exudes a romantic magic all its own.
They begin to wander off hand in hand, and Ezrina turns around.
“Skyla?” She pegs me with a stern expression. “If you don’t win this war, your body parts will very much be subject to the heft of my blade.”
Nev’s ears peak in slight horror before he ushers her swiftly under the cover of night.
There’s the Ezrina I know—all threats and knives, filled with her special brand of I’ll-cut-you aggression.
She breaks into a fit of giggles and fills Logan’s strange universe with the bubbling brook from her mouth. Nev rumbles something to her, as they disappear behind the curtain of a willow and its long, green tendrils. His shadowed figure lays her gently on the grass.
“You don’t think they’re going to—?”