Celestra: Books 1-2

by Addison Moore

  We’re not killing. The goal is not to kill, he counters.

  Reality check. I point up to my throat. I will kill whoever or whatever I have to, not to breathe through a straw like that again. And by the way, I think they have a lot worse planned for me. I’ll kill them by the heard if I have to—for you and for me.

  And what about for us? His features soften. Am I losing you?

  My mouth falls open at the thought. Before I can formulate anything coherent to say, he adds, Well, then, his amber eyes light up like flames. I’ll have to get you back.

  ***

  Logan’s Aunt Emma helps me wash off the blood that’s already rusted onto my body. She loans me a pink and red scarf, carefully wrapping it around my neck just before Gage drives me home.

  This can’t go well. My Mom and Tad are going to freak if they see what’s under this scarf.

  I shoot Gage a look of discontent as we head through the front door.

  “Here he is,” Tad balks as he passes us on the way upstairs. “Someone warn the refrigerator.”

  Only once has he ever seen Gage get anything from the fridge, and on that day it was a water bottle. Water. Tad’s so cheap he can’t share water.

  My mother rushes up after him.

  “Hey you two.” She speeds past us in a tizzy.

  “You mind if we study up in Skyla’s room?” Gage calls after her.

  I can’t believe how brazen he is. Of course she’s going to mind, she—

  “Nope. I trust you.” And with that, she’s out of sight.

  My father would have answered with the blast of a shotgun.

  Gage helps me upstairs and I briskly shut and lock my door in the event my mother’s sanity decides to restore itself.

  I grab a notepad and a pen and make myself comfy on the bed with Gage slouching down next to me.

  They’re going to rut. I spell out.

  “Nice.” He folds his hands. “Should we?”

  No.

  He shakes his head slightly while brushing his thumb up against my cheek. “I know.” He presses his lips together. “I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

  I’m glad you’re here. Which reminds me, this was once Chloe’s bedroom and the fact she oddly named Gage as the love of her life still confuses the hell out of me. You ever kiss Chloe? I scrawl across the page.

  He squints in to read it as though it were written in some foreign language.

  “Nope.” His cheeks turn pink as he answers.

  I drop the pen and take up his hand, press it against my lips. There’s definitely something developing here, a progression, something linear pulling me toward Gage. I wish I didn’t feel it. I wish I didn’t make Logan feel like he had to do something to win me back because he still has me so completely, and I wonder how it could be that my heart has found itself strangely settled in two places at once.

  Gage penetrates me with those crystalline blue eyes. He wishes he could read my thoughts as easily as Logan. But it’s my face that says it all. He leans in and presses a soft kiss against my forehead. I think he already knows my heart is lying in two very distinct pieces.

  8

  Read On

  I plan on spending all of Sunday in bed losing myself in Chloe’s diary. With my newfound sore throat, Mom pretty much agreed I should stay under the covers and simultaneously ignored me all morning. Instead of plying me with hot tea and soup, like old Mom would have done, she’s busy holing up in her room coupling with Tad like some baby hungry cougar.

  July 5th,

  This is going to be tougher than I thought. It’s like Gage repels from me the minute I stand beside him. It’s really starting to irritate me, so I let Ellis slobber all over me in order to fill him with regret.

  I took Ellis on a light drive after. Ellis is like a good little pet, always around when I need him. Too bad I’m not into Ellis. That would make life so much easier in a way, but then, it would suck the fun out of everything too.

  I don’t know. I haven’t really ever had my feelings reciprocated. It’s usually me using somebody or somebody using me. I guess you could say I’m unlucky in love. It sort of seems to be this scary theme in my life.

  Speaking of scary, I told Lexy I can’t deal with Michelle anymore. You would have thought I pushed her in a pool of piranhas the way she freaked out. It’s not like losing Logan is going to restructure the landscape of her world. She was never in his league to begin with. So, I told her he was just being nice by hanging out with her. I told her he probably felt sorry for her and couldn’t figure out how to ditch her so he just went with it. That’s when she slapped me. Yes. Let the record show, Lexy Bakova sealed her own fate by whacking me with an open hand in the Oliver’s living room right in front of Gage.

  Of course I didn’t retaliate. I have something far more interesting in mind.

  After the dust settled, Michelle started to arm wrestle with Logan in the backyard, which by the way evolved to include their entire half clothed bodies. Leave it to Michelle to do something like that right in front of Lex.

  I took Lexy and left. I told her I felt really bad and would do anything to restore our “friendship”. So of course she suggested I help her get Logan back.

  You should have seen her, all red with snot dripping down her face, complete with heartbroken tears! I wish I had taken a picture. I’d love to throw darts through her snot riddled face any day, or better yet plaster it all over the walls at West. Anyway, she landed right where I wanted her. I made her promise she’d teach me how to bind Fems without lifting a finger. And she pinky swore she’d do it.

  I can’t believe Lexy knows about Fems—about binding Fems, which I didn’t even know was possible. That must mean Lexy is one of them—us, whatever. What if she’s Celestra like Chloe and I, like Logan? Maybe that’s what attracted her to Logan?

  July 6th,

  Brushed my teeth.

  July 7th,

  Found Ellis and some girl from East in a closet at his party tonight. It actually bothered me to see him with someone else. Isn’t that weird? I totally thought I didn’t care about him. Funny how life surprises you that way. I told him, if he didn’t hook up with her, I’d have a treat for him later. He totally thought it was light driving, which I think is quickly becoming one of his many addictions. Anyway, I gave him instructions on how to come through the room in my attic and let himself into my bedroom. I padlocked the door like a Fem was on the other side and let him have his way with me for hours.

  I still can’t believe I did it. It feels strange knowing I’ll never get something like that back, but then again it’s over and I don’t have to think about it. Plus, it was with Ellis Stoner Harrison, which I don’t think really counts. Get it? He’s a Count? He’s really just a twerp.

  July 8th,

  Totally regret letting Ellis violate my body that way. At the beach today, he panted by my side all day long. When I showed up at Devil’s Peak to hang out, he brought me flowers! It made me want to jump off the cliff.

  Obviously sleeping with Ellis has sent the wrong message. Plus, it depressed the hell out of me because no matter how hard I pretended—he didn’t magically morph into Gage. Now I’m probably going to have some Count slash Celestra lovechild because I was too freaking stupid to use protection!!! I swear, I never thought I’d be as stupid as Carly baby-mama-Foster.

  So I spent the rest of the night blubbering in a corner to Emily. Honestly, she’s like my only one true friend.

  July 28th,

  OK, so I’ve let Ellis in a bunch more times. After I got my period and stopped jumping up and down like an idiot who just won some sort of ovulation lottery, I decided that being with Ellis could happen again so long as he brought the proper gear.

  Em hacked off all her long black hair today! She totally looks like a guy now, but it’s sort of my fault because I encouraged her to do it. That’s what friends are for, right?

  Anyway. On the Gage front, I went over to hang out tonight. Ellis went somewhere
with his family and plus Lexy is out of town, so Michelle practically begged me.

  We watched a movie, and after I went outside to hang out by the pool with Gage. We just dipped our feet in the water and sat next to each other real quiet. It was nice. I still wish it were Gage coming down through my attic.

  August 2nd,

  Ms. Richards knows. Oh freaking shit! I want to strangle Lexy and her big, fat, stupid, mouth!

  So I get to sixth period and she goes all psych teacher on me and starts asking about my lineage and shit. Who the heck does Lexy think she is letting people in on our secret? Anyway, Ms. Richards invited me over to her house to check something out that belonged to her great, great, grandmother, like I’m some sort of extra terrestrial expert all of a sudden. The strangest part is that Ms. Richards believed everything Lexy told her. Isn’t that weird? Wouldn’t a normal person just brush off something like that as though it were coming from a whack job? I don’t get it. I really don’t.

  I’m tired, and it’s beyond late, but it’s too addicting to stop, so I read through a couple more before turning out the lights. But this is the one that lingers in my mind long after I go to sleep.

  August 5th,

  So I begged Lexy and Em to come with me to Ms. Richards house, but they both bailed. Lucky for me we just sat on her porch. She gave me sweet tea and had me look through some old family pictures. She mentioned something about stuff in the safe, but thankfully it was blocked with a bunch of crap, so she couldn’t get to it.

  Anyway, her great, great, grandmother was a freaky looking version of Ms. Richards, but I swear I’ve seen her somewhere before. Long, red, crazy hair that looked like it was made from copper wires. I bet they put her in the nut house just for looking so bizarre.

  In one picture, it was like she was looking straight through me, like she was actually alive and looking at me with her scary bulging eyes. Of course I asked if I could take one of the pictures home, but she said no. So I when she got up to go inside for more tea, I snaked one. Ms. Richards said she was told never to say her great, great grandmother’s name. The one I took was marked in chicken scratch on the back. So, of course I said the name like ten times—too funny.

  I carefully peel back the next page and a picture slides out. It’s of a woman standing in an open field with a familiar wild shag of hair and a solemn, haunting expression on her face. I turn it over and see scrawled in rickety handwriting the name—Ezrina.

  9

  Friday Night Fight

  I’m getting more mileage than I ever imagined from getting my throat slit. On Friday, Gage actually lets me brush my leg up against his and cheat on my Algebra Two test. He was staunchly against the idea just a few weeks ago. You would have thought I had asked him to turn his dog into hamburger, but not this time.

  Skyla.

  I look up. It’s Marshall’s voice in the background while Gage is busy processing number nine out of twenty on the chapter test.

  I tilt my head at him.

  I see you touching Gage. He raises his brows completely unamused. I’m going to let you slide, but just this once. He presses his finger to his lips. I had to hire a cleaning crew to scrub down the house after the near massacre you incurred. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better. He gives a short-lived smile. Michelle has been asking a whole slew of questions about you as of late.

  Me? I give a puzzled look.

  Why don’t you meet me here at four-thirty? He gives a sly grin. It would be my pleasure to go over her concerns with you.

  No, I mouth over at him.

  Suit yourself. Don’t coming running to me when you receive your next mortal infliction. He turns toward the blackboard.

  Next mortal infliction?

  Consider yourself warned.

  ***

  Friday night, Ms. Richards is well aware of my severely sore throat, so she lets me cheer minus the actual cheering, while wearing a white fuzzy scarf that matches my uniform. I don’t dare even think of Ezrina when I’m around Ms. Richards. I’m afraid to tell anybody what I read—afraid I might accidentally call her to me with that stupid picture and she might chop off my other arm or my head. Oh my, God, what if it was Ezrina who slit my throat? What if just picking up Chloe’s diary was enough to call her? Shit!

  The crowd starts to boo. Everyone rises to their feet. Something is happening on the field, but I can’t tell what.

  “They’re brawling!” Brielle shouts, clapping her hands like this is great news.

  The air is smoky, filled with the perpetual dense fog that settles over the island night after night. I see bodies streaming in a steady pile, then slowly they get plucked off of one another until just two are left, both in royal blue and white uniforms—number 12 and 44. Logan and Gage.

  I cup my hand up over my mouth.

  The coach kicks them both about a dozen times before they roll apart and get up.

  They cut death rays at one another before walking in opposite directions. I’m pretty sure this has nothing to with the visiting team, the ball, or the game in general. I feel pretty crappy about the whole thing. I’m going to have to figure out a way to put an end to this, but how?

  A light drizzle starts in, and we finish the game, frosted with microscopic droplets of water.

  We stand in line formation waiting to high-five the team as they run on by. Logan comes first with his lip cut and bloodied. I need to see you, he says as we connect. His eyes are filled with sorrow and a part of me wants to run off with him right now.

  Gage comes up dead last with nothing to show for the fight, at least not on his face.

  “Everyone is hanging out at the falls tonight. Wanna go?” He looks hopeful.

  “Falls?” It comes out a little louder than a whisper. I’ve been trying to use my voice all week like Dr. Oliver instructed. Right after, he broke the news the reason I wasn’t healing so well was because I’ve offed so much blood between the donations for Chloe and having my throat slit. “Is Logan going?”

  His eyes dip down with a brief look of disappointment.

  My heart sinks at the thought of hurting Gage with my words. I was only asking because Logan mentioned he wanted to see me.

  “Of course I’ll go.”

  “Great.” He starts running backward toward the gym. “You’ll need a bathing suit.” He shrugs. “Or not.”

  Right, like I’m going to skinny dip with all the kids on Paragon.

  ***

  So technically, I’m wearing my ridiculous white fuzzy scarf, so I’m not really skinny dipping. Plus, it’s like pitch black out, sans the full moon, and plus…oh shit, I’m skinny dipping with all the kids on Paragon.

  The reality hits me that I actually let Brielle talk me into stripping down and jumping in without any clothes in order to prove that I didn’t care what people thought of my body—a demonstration of sheer stupidity on my part. Thank God, Gage and the guys are all jumping off the cliff side, way up the hill, screaming like idiots, or I never would have agreed to it.

  “I’m getting out.” My teeth chatter in rhythm. My skin is numb from the shock of icy water. You’d think, by the way the rest of the girls lounge around and laugh, that we were sitting in a hot tub.

  “Relax. Besides, it’s dark out there. Someone might be waiting to hack your head off.” She lets out a high-pitched laugh.

  “Right, that’s not funny.” I don’t know how she can sit there and joke about it, when she’s the one who swore she would never be able to look at a straw the same way again.

  Brielle seems unfazed by the sting of lake. She dips down under the water line and reemerges with her hair washed back, spitting a perfect stream into my face.

  “I swear, Skyla, you take life so seriously. For all you know, you might be swimming with the person who did it.” She pushes off the rocks and strokes effortlessly into the distance.

  What the hell was that supposed to mean? I watch as she shifts onto her back exposing her bare chest. The moonlight casts its glossy high beam
over her pale naked body. Brielle has no shame, no remorse for cheating on Drake, and she’s a Count. Maybe I am swimming with the one who did it?

  I back out of the water slowly and head into a thicket of weeds that comes up to my waist. I watch as Kate bumps into Brielle in the middle of the water, and they start to drown each other while laughing. A small part of me wants to warn Kate, tell her Brielle is capable of anything.

  The sound of someone clearing their throat startles me to attention, and I spin around creating an x across my chest with my arms.

  Logan!

  A slow spreading wicked grin appears on his face. He plucks a hand from his pocket and points over at me.

  I look down briefly.

  Crap! I’ve managed to flex my arms expertly over my chest to cover up, well— nothing.

  He takes off his shirt and tosses it over just shy of where I’m standing.

  I snatch it off the ground quick as thief. I can feel the weight of his stare as I pull it on.

  “I think that body should be illegal in all 50 states,” he says it in a low husky growl.

  “Was that an insult?” I slip into my cheer shorts at super sonic speed.

  “Why don’t we go into the woods, and you can figure it out.” There’s something hauntingly seductive about Logan under this full squatting moon—something in his eyes, that suggests there are still so many more layers to this person than I could ever imagine.

  I circle his waist and rub his bare stomach with my hand—hitch my thumb in through the belt loop of his jeans.

  So many more layers, I plan on removing.

  10

  Alone

  Logan rubs his hand up and down over my arm as we make our way into the wall of pine trees just beyond the border of the lake. I remember coming here with him in the summer, back when we were free to be together out in the open—at least we thought.