“Consummate their union?” Logan interjects, pulling me down to the earth and wrapping his loving arms around me.
I slip my hands up his shirt and his rock hard abs quiver for me. Maybe Logan and I should consummate our union. Why wait another moment to experience what we’ve waited so long for? I want nothing more than his fevered body pressed against mine. My hand drops to his jeans and my fingers bypass the formality of the button, the zipper, and dip to the heated skin on the inside of his boxers. Logan snatches my wrist and lifts my hand up to his mouth and kisses it.
“We can’t do this here, not with Nev and Ezrina as a potential audience.” He raises his brows. “Not with unfinished business—”
I cut him off before he can bring up Gage. “Have it your way, but it will happen.” I slide into Logan’s lap and brush a quiet kiss against his cheek. “That was really nice of you to allow them to borrow your world. I’m sure Ezrina would have done anything for the opportunity.” Nev is far more careful than his sword-wielding counterpart.
“She is about to do something,” Logan whispers.
I snap at attention. “What?” Nev did say Logan had an unconventional request.
“The next time the Counts pull you into that treble, you’ll find out.”
“Logan.” I press a hand into his chest. “I’m done with secrets. Tell me now.”
He flexes a smile. “Only if you promise no hitting or yelling.”
“Logan!” I’m petrified at what he might reveal. “I promise, no hitting or yelling.” I brush the pads of my fingers along his jaw line. I can easily spend an eternity like this with Logan in his perfect dreams. Well, they’re usually perfect. Tonight they’re a bit scattered and X-rated in nature.
“Are all your dreams this explicit?” I reel him in by the lip of his jeans.
“Mostly.” He breathes into my neck and dots a trail of kisses up to my ear.
“I bet you look forward to this every single night.”
“What I look forward to”—he pauses to graze over my earlobe with his teeth—“is turning this into reality—with you—every single night.”
“Just at night?” I give a flirtatious smile.
A dark laughs rumbles through him. “It sounds like we’re going to have an impressive happily ever after.”
“It will be most impressive,” I say, running my finger up his chest and dipping it into his mouth for a moment. “OK, now spill your secret.”
“I might have bartered a little with Ezrina.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re just like me. You have to learn everything the hard way.” I’m terrified and breathless at what he might say next.
“Skyla, I can’t bear the thought of the Counts torturing you. I don’t want to see you afraid or in pain, ever.” His eyes glitter with moisture. “In exchange for letting them into my dreams, Ezrina agreed to accept your torment.”
“How? Because she’s Celestra?” I’m puzzled.
“Not really. She agreed to enter your body when the treble hits, and you’ll be returned safe and sound once it’s over. Unfortunately, she’s not allowed to undergo anything outside the treble. That’s not her domain. You’ll still have to endure the cyanide, but I swear, I’ll be right there with you.”
“So once the treble hits, I’ll be magically transported into Ezrina’s body?” I hate Ezrina’s body, the version that lives in the Transfer anyway. “And what if she’s tricking you, and I get stuck there?” I foresee this as more than a possibility—plus its win-win for Ezrina—play with Nev under a lavender moon, then get the added bonus of being seventeen all over again.
“Not going to happen. You won’t get stuck.” Logan assures. “I had her take an oath. She can’t break it. It’s all going to work as planned.” He presses a warm kiss over the top of my head. “And I wouldn’t worry about Ezrina’s body, you won’t be in it.”
“Where will I be?”
He taps his hand over his heart. “You’ll be in here with me.”
Chapter 29
The Note
I startle awake and find myself back on my bed in Paragon far from Ezrina and a sexed-up Nev. That must have been a real dream. Something must have gone awry. There was no way Logan would go along with such an insane idea, let alone formulate it.
A cool breeze stirs through the vicinity, carrying the distinct scent of Gage’s cologne.
I turn on the light, and squint into the room with suspicion only to find an envelope on my nightstand with my name written in his undeniable handwriting.
A dull laugh huffs through me.
I bet he popped in to see if I was telling the truth about my “date.” I’ll have to ask Marshall to secure my bedroom with a thousand binding spirits to keep Gage Oliver from running in and out like he owns the place—and me.
A dull ache penetrates my chest as I pick up the envelope.
Gage. The old version still has me so completely, and I wish it wasn’t so.
I press the cool paper to my cheek in one final act of humiliation, brush my lips over the seam he licked and pretend it’s him. I would kiss the floor he walked on if only he would morph back into the person I thought he was.
It takes a full half hour before I have the courage to run my finger along the inside ridge of the envelope and extricate its contents. A piece of paper floats out easy as a butterfly.
Dear Skyla,
Sometimes there are no words.
I’m dying. I beg of you to give me a moment. Hear me for a minute, and then if you choose to never speak to me again, I will understand.
You are the sun and without you there is only unimaginable darkness.
I miss you so much. I miss every last detail about you. I miss the way your perfume lingered in my room hours after you went home. I miss touching you. I miss your kisses. I miss being near you, the touch of your hair against my face.
I thought we would always be together. I knew in my heart that we would be. I can be wrong about everything, but I would have sworn on my life that I would never be wrong about that.
No matter what you decide, just know that I love you. I will love you for as long as I’m spinning on this planet and then I’ll love you after that, too.
Love forever,
Gage
Gage Oliver loves me?
I close my eyes and pretend it’s true.
***
The next morning, I text Logan to make sure Gage and I are working different shifts at the bowling alley, but he doesn’t text me back. I can’t say that letter didn’t affect me, but there’s a part of me that can’t believe a word Gage Oliver says. It’s the kernel of doubt that Chloe planted as small as a mustard seed, and now it’s blossomed into a spreading tree large enough to house every bird on the planet.
I head downstairs for breakfast, trying to push that letter out of my mind. As much as I’d like for it to be real, as much as I need it to be, I’m sure Chloe and Gage have regrouped for part two of Operation Take Down Skyla.
“Morning, sunshine.” Chloe raises her mug. She sits across from Brielle at the table as Mom and Tad huddle in the corner having an all too serious powwow for this early in the day.
“So,” Brielle says, holding up a butter knife. She squints into its reflection viewing her upper lip, “how long do you think I should let my girl-stache go before taking action?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Chloe says, “you should ask someone with experience in facial hair, like Skyla. She’s practically a werewolf.”
I shoot a look to Mom and Tad who so obviously missed the cutting remark.
“Oh, I don’t know, Chloe.” I take a seat next to Brielle. “You seem to know a lot about removing unwanted debris—people—from the planet.”
“The same could be said about you.” She beams, delighted with the fact I’ve personally removed a few souls myself.
“Are you working today?” I choose to ignore Chloe and pose the question directly to Brielle.
“I’m off. I thought I’d go to the mal
l and buy something to wear Saturday.”
Saturday is the day that sausage lovers everywhere will descend on Rockaway Point to indulge in a gluttonous frenzy of pig flesh—otherwise known as the Fourth of July. Ironic how Tad has no qualms about eating pork-filled intestines and yet bacon is permanently off the menu. His hypocrisy knows no bounds.
“Aren’t you due to spend some time at the Edinger estate?” Chloe purrs. “I’ll be there all day, if you want to join me. I’m excavating the basement. It’s full of interesting goodies—portholes.” She scatters the crumbs to see if I’ll follow.
“I’m busy later.” Weeping in my room, but I don’t tell her that.
“Girls…” Mom heads over. “I was wondering if I could get you to do me a favor.”
“Anything.” Chloe is quick to accommodate. She’d mop the floor with her hair, if my mother asked her to.
“I promised Mr. Dudley I would drop off print samples at his place this afternoon, but something just came up.” She nods back at Tad with a scowl on her face.
“Oh,” Chloe straightens, “I’m sure Skyla can. She has a little crush on him. Don’t you, Skyla?”
“I do not have a crush on him.” I’m quick to refute. My face burns a thousand different shades of red. I may have a little crush on Marshall, but it’s only because he keeps pushing himself on me so successfully.
“He is a doll,” Mom whispers before biting down on her lip.
It’s like those hormones she’s injecting herself with have turned her into a lust-driven lunatic. It’s no wonder she’s pawing all over Demetri whenever she gets the chance. His image has been warped under the lens of mega doses of estrogen. I’m sure once those erotic-shaped scales fall from her eyes, she’ll eschew his company every chance she gets.
“Sure, I’ll do it.” I volunteer. “And I do not have a crush on my teacher.” I decide to reiterate the fact just to play it safe.
“That’s right,” Mom corrects, “you have a crush on Gage.” She says it so dreamily I suspect she might have a crush of her own on the blue-eyed sage.
“No.” I shake my head. “Actually, I don’t. I’m back with Logan again.” Technically, I’m not, but eventually we will be, so it’s really not lying—it’s fast-forwarding the truth.
“What?” Mom gasps as if I had just made some egregious declaration.
“Told you she’s fickle.” Tad slides his coffee along the counter. “Give her another month or so, and they’ll both be history.”
“That’s not true.” Mom cuts him an icy look. “Skyla, what happened?”
“I’d rather not say.” Like ever.
“Well, I’m concerned. Are you OK?” Mom rubs my back, inducing in me the strong urge to bawl like a baby. Speaking of which…
“So did you tell them the great news?” I ask Brielle, mustering all the enthusiasm I can to get the words out.
“Oh, I totally forgot.” She spins her finger in her hair. “I’m bringing the baby by this week. I hope you’re ready. He needs a bottle in his mouth twenty-four seven just to keep him from screaming bloody murder.” She snorts into her toast.
“Yes, I’m ready!” Mom grips her chest with excitement. Little does she know, she’ll have a casket permanently lining her bedroom just like Tad predicted. He also predicted I would have dumped both Logan and Gage in a month, but that’s not going to come true, at least not the Logan part.
“So where are you headed this afternoon?” Chloe bats her doe eyes into my mother. “Anything else you might need help with?”
Really? It’s like she’s trying to steal my mother, too.
“I’ll be at Detective Edinger’s estate. He’s donating some of his grandfather’s belongings to the Paragon Community Museum along with organizing items for auction.
“He’s a real saint,” I grumble. Just like he’s donating my blood to the Counts and organizing a win for the faction war.
“Oh, he’s…” Mom looks to the ceiling in her allusive search for adjectives. “He’s better than an angel.”
I pin my mother with a look.
Demetri Edinger is no better than an angel—in fact, it’s about time she understands what a demon he really is.
***
Just before I leave for work, I hear Mom coming down the hall, humming a happy tune, because hello? She’ll be rid of Tad for a few short hours. But it just so happens I can’t stand the way she’s decided to fill her time.
“Can we talk for a minute?” I widen the door to my room extending the invitation.
“Of course.” She strides in and takes a seat next to me on the bed. “What’s going on, sweetie?” She brushes my hair behind my shoulders.
“That’s what I’d like to know.” I was going to ask what was going on between her and Demetri, but my vocal cords shut down on me. I just know she’s going to get all defensive when I peg him for killing my father—when I tell her how he’s in the process of killing me. “You know, about Gage and me.” Shit. So not where I wanted to go with this.
“Oh, hon, it’s going to be OK.” She pulls me into a tight embrace. “I just know you and he will work things out. That other boy is just a filler.”
“Logan is not a filler.” I have proof positive I’ll be marrying him one day—Logan, Gage, and I can all attest to the fact since we shared the vision en masse. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about me. What’s going on with you?” Do I really expect her to burst like a dam and fill me in on all the juicy details of her affair?
“Well, I’m sort of torn right now.” She sighs, looking down at the comforter.
“What?” I honestly didn’t think we’d go there.
“Therapy isn’t what I thought it would be. It just seems to be getting worse and worse. I think I might have to shore up the reserves and force the entire family to get on board. I could really use some support right now.”
“Support you? With Demetri?” I want to gasp or scream or throw things, but it’s all getting a little too real.
“Demetri?” She looks genuinely confused. “No, I was thinking more along the lines of a colon cleanse.”
I give several hard blinks. I do see the connection although vague and disturbing in nature.
“Oh right.” I get it. “To help with the baby. So, you’re still wanting to go ahead with that whole infertility treatment thing? I mean you’re a grandmother now.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, but secretly I’m hoping she’ll change her mind about trying to add another Landon to the mix.
“I might be a grandmother but I wouldn’t know it, and I certainly wouldn’t know my grandchild lived right next door. Every time I go over there, they act like they’re not home, even when their cars are sitting right there in the driveway. I’m not holding my breath for Brielle to bring over the baby.”
“Sorry about that.” I sit up, fresh with an idea. “Hey, maybe Darla is ticked off at you.”
“Whatever for?” Mom says it real pissy like maybe there is a rift between her and Darla.
“You know,” I start, “you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with her boyfriend.” Referencing Demetri as anybody’s boyfriend makes me want to gag.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Her hand flies to her mouth. “Of course—she’s the jealous type.” She smacks herself on the forehead. “I’ll have to think of something and make it up to them. A romantic getaway, just the four of us.”
I blink into her, stymied by her problematic mathematics. It’s becoming clear she won’t be removing herself from Demetri’s equation anytime soon.
“Maybe start by inviting them to dinner,” I suggest. “You can really lay it on thick with Tad—then Darla will totally get the message.” So will Demetri.
“You know, Skyla, sometimes you’re a real genius.” She winks.
Not sure a wink is what you want after hearing those words.
“In fact,” she says, clapping her hands into her epiphany, “I’ll have the Oliver’s over and their boys. I’ll see if I can’t make more than
one love connection that evening. I just know Gage is the right one for you.”
“No, please, don’t do that.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
She leans in and hugs me a very long time. I guess I blew my chance at ratting out Demetri.
“Hey, Mom?” I pull away and look right into her bold, emerald eyes. “What would you say if I told you I thought Demetri was a really bad guy?” Like responsible-for-the-death-of-your-husband bad.
Her lips tighten in a ball, her gaze narrows into a spear. “I would never believe you.”
Exactly what I thought.
Chapter 30
Mad Kisses
The island transforms itself into a tropical paradise. A dark canopy of clouds lay thick over Paragon, locking in the heat from an unnaturally warm day. The pines glow verdant and supple. Their dark, corrugated trunks lie camouflaged in tawny and ebony bark, interlocked like the pieces of a puzzle.
I pull into the bowling alley parking lot and step out of the Mustang, taking in the scented brine from the ocean. I can see the whitecaps crash over the shore from across the road and the angry blue steel of the water sweltering in the heat. The boy I once loved holds that color in his eyes. Gage holds the ocean, the universe, and my heart hostage in those cobalt spheres. He had so much power over me with just one look, but now he’s gone, and all that’s left is an imposter taking up space in his heavenly form.
Gage’s black truck is nestled next to the entrance. I knew I should have begged Brielle to cover my shift. I suppose I could hightail it over to Demetri’s to knock out some more of those community service hours and lock myself at the hip with Chloe of all people.
I make my way through the dimly lit arcade. It bustles to life with robotic clicks and whistles. The bowling alley opens up like an air-conditioned haven, bright and airy, the scent of fresh popcorn thick in the air.
A voice emerges from the kitchen.
It’s Gage—I know that husky laugh, that guttural moan as he shows his discontent. I miss the way his baritone would rumble through my body as he held me tight, the way it sounded in my hair.