The Serpentine Butterfly

by Addison Moore

They both laugh it off, with Demetri nodding to Tad and Mom giggling herself into a Demetri-gasm while patting her lips as if they were her new favorite pets.

  “So, where’s that beautiful child of yours?” Demetri looks to Tad as he asks the mocking question. “The beautiful Mystery Landon.”

  Gag me. Never mind I’m sick to my stomach at the thought of the two of them flaunting their affair. It’s sickening. An anger-fueled adrenaline spikes through me at the thought.

  “Why are you so interested in Mystery?” My jaw is set tight as I seethe out the words. I should just walk away, but a part of me wants this non-chaste coital confrontation to go down right this very minute.

  “Misty is with Emily, my soon-to-be daughter-in-law.” Mom is quick to silence my line of questioning. “Emily is allergic to sunlight come to find out. Truthfully, I think she just appreciates her lily-white skin.”

  Tad scoffs. “Allergic to sunshine? I’ll give you allergic to sunshine! The only thing the entire lot of those teenagers shacking up under our roof is allergic to is gainful employment! When are her parents going to offer to buy her a brand new home?” He turns to Emma while sloshing the Mai Tai in his hand. “How about you buy up an entire city block, hot shot? The way the kids today multiply like rabbits you’ll need to gobble up the entire west side of the island!” He swills his drink in Barron’s direction. “The death business must be pretty brisk these days, eh? You two making routine trips to all the nursing homes in the area—dropping off a little homemade spice cake, eh? A little arsenic in the mix, eh?”

  Did Tad just accuse the Olivers of mass murder? And why is he suddenly Canadian? And why am I secretly cheering on Drunk Tad?

  Barron and Emma make up an entire slew of unintelligible excuses before scooting along.

  “I have an announcement to make in just a few moments!” Demetri calls after them. “Make sure to stay a few extra minutes if you can.”

  Tad spills his drink in Demetri’s direction. “Whatcha got going? Cakewalk? A raffle?”

  “Yes.” Demetri is clearly bored and tired of Drunk Tad. One day Tad is going to eat an arsenic spice cake, and I will damn well know who served it. “A raffle.” He looks to Gage, dismayed. “The winner takes all—the highest prize in the land is his to have.”

  “How long does this prize last?” My heart thumps as the words drum out of me. Demetri might just be the key to keeping Gage around until I’m dead as a doornail. There’s no way in heck I’m letting my husband get away with impregnating me with three little Fems (cute and special as they may be) and then cashing in on his one-way ticket to paradise. “Wouldn’t it be great if that prize were made to last for decades to come? About seven more would be nice. Seven is a nice round number.” Technically, it’s not, but the only math genius here is Gage, and I’m pretty sure he’d agree with me.

  Demetri winces before transferring his attention to his son. “The prize has already been doled out. It was won on the bed of a promise. All that’s left is accepting this generous offering.”

  Gage takes a breath that expands his chest wide as a city. “Sometimes, an offering isn’t the gift you hope it to be. Too many strings make it unacceptable. It’s more blackmail than it ever is a gift.”

  “Let’s go, Lizbeth. I’m running on empty.” Tad tries to drag off my mother, but she’s standing staunch with her boy toy.

  “You go ahead. I’m pretty interested in this raffle.”

  “Me, too,” I whisper.

  Isis struts her blonde self by with a jiggle and wiggle, and honest to God, I’m praying a bikini is buried somewhere in the folds of all that overexposed flesh. Tad doesn’t waste a second running toward her like some cartoon roadrunner.

  “I guess you two have your Mystery, and Tad has his triple D Greek goddess.”

  “Skyla!” Mom barks. “What has gotten into you?”

  My mouth opens to snark out some smart-ass comeback (which, oddly, each time something truthful, yet more than slightly disrespectful, flies from my lips, I find it eases my nausea a bit—a cure I’m willing to explore since Marshall has decided to up and pull a disappearing act), but I’m waylaid with an obnoxious sight from across the pool. Lexy Bakova stands, all greased and buttered a delicious golden brown with her body draped over Logan like a wet towel. He’s carefully removing her hands, trying to wiggle from her grasp, but she’s relentless in her pursuit of him.

  “What the hell?”

  “Skyla, no,” Gage moans with that I-know-this-is-inevitable tone in his voice.

  Bree and Drake, along with Chloe and Wes, have formed a circle around them, talking and laughing as if they were a part of some obnoxious couple’s clique.

  “I’m going to drown them all in the pool.” I glide over the water so fast my feet touch back on dry land before I register what I’ve done in full public view. All six pairs of eyes expand in my direction, agog at my sudden presence as Logan backs up from Lex with his hands in the air.

  “You.” I poke a finger into Lexy’s hard as steel stomach and snarl at how tone, fit, perky, and pretty she is this afternoon. “Who do you think you are dripping over him like honey?”

  Lex gets right in my face, baring her fangs at me as if to say it’s on. “Who do you think you are hovering over him like some helicopter ex-girlfriend?”

  Gage runs up, out of breath, cane in hand, as he tries to pluck me away, but I resist.

  “I think I don’t like how you’re shoving yourself down everybody’s throat,” I snipe at the copper-headed queen of mean.

  “I think you’re trying to shove yourself down your ex-boyfriend’s throat. Maybe all those rumors about the two of you having an affair have a ring of truth to them.” Her eyes glint with a wickedness I had only ever seen in Chloe before.

  “Are you kidding me? I would never be unfaithful to my husband!”

  “Save it, Messenger. I watched you for years at West, shoving your tongue down both their throats because you couldn’t decide between them.” She glances over my shoulder. “Where’s Dudley? Rumor has it you lost your virginity to him just to get a passing grade in his class. Are you that bad with numbers, Messenger, that the only thing you could figure out was two spread legs plus one math teacher’s penis equals—”

  My hand connects with her face so fast I recoil in horror. My heart beats like a jackrabbit on fire, and my head pounds, because for one, I’m not physically able to finish what I just started. Out of the entire bitch squad, I think Lexy is the last one I could take on a fit day minus three babies in my belly. Lucky for me, Gage will never let this get that far.

  Before I know it, Lexy is over me, and we’re plunging into the deep end of Demetri’s never-ending swimming pool.

  My fingers claw at her neck as I struggle to break free and swim to the surface.

  I’m having a baby! I plead with her, my mind using all of its reserves to pound that thought into her ridiculous Deorsum brain.

  I don’t give a flying shit! Her eyes are wild as she swims us deeper away from the waterline, and my lungs begin to ache for a breath.

  Bodies dive into the vicinity like dark missiles born with a dusting of bubbles. A familiar pair of limbs rips me free from her terror hold. A mouth covers mine and lends me a much-needed breath before we rise to the surface, and I gasp and struggle to fill my lungs with precious, fresh Paragon air.

  I turn to find Gage popping up beside me, about six feet away, and he swims over. But the arms of this mystery man who lent me a breath when I needed it most are still secured around my body. I twist myself free as I struggle to turn around. It’s him.

  “Marshall.” I pull him in for a brief hug, whispering a breathless thank you into his ear before Gage helps pull me out of the water.

  “Attention, everyone!” Demetri’s voice booms over the expanse like a loud speaker. That auditory oddity alone should warrant concern among the humans among us. Forget Wes and his nefarious plans. It’s going to be Demetri’s idiocy that gets us all killed. “I have a wonde
rful announcement to make, and I would bid you a moment of your time to share in this wonderful news with me.”

  A crowd amasses toward the back terrace where Demetri stands with Chloe and Wes faithfully by his side.

  Laken and Coop greet Gage and me with dry towels and a slew of questions about my wellbeing, but I can’t take my eyes off the strange sight before me.

  “What’s he doing?” I take the towel Laken hands me without looking.

  Demetri holds up a glass of champagne. “Today I want to share with you the blessed news that my son and his wife are expecting their very first child!”

  The crowd breaks out into cheers.

  “Shouldn’t we be up there?” I ask Gage while pressing my back into the warmth of his chest.

  “I don’t think this is our announcement.”

  “To the new Mr. and Mrs. Edinger.” Demetri raises his glass even higher. “May your child bring you as much delight as you’ve both given the world.”

  “Dear God, he’s just cursed that poor thing.” I almost want to look away as Wes grabs Chloe and kisses her like he means it.

  A hard groan comes from Laken as she turns around abruptly.

  “You want to go?” Coop asks sweetly.

  “No. I’m here to hang out with friends and eat all the free snow crab I can cram into my body and my purse. Besides, this is old news.”

  “Dude!” Brielle runs over with a turkey leg in hand. “Chloe is freaking married!”

  “I guess that’s the real news.” I shake my head at Laken like what gives?

  My mother races over to Chloe, and before I know it, she’s feeling her up, probably twisting her nipples for good measure. Apparently, nipple twisting is my mother’s love language. I hope it hurts. I hope Chloe’s tits fall off, and she begs to die of embarrassment. Knowing Bishop, she’s getting off on having her nipples pinched in public.

  “He’s trying to one-up me.” Laken averts her eyes, and I catch a glint of moisture in them. “I’m getting married, so he has to get married. Plus, he still thinks I’m knocked up.”

  I happen to know that’s not true anymore. Gage put a pin in that happy little delusionary balloon, and Wes is happier than ever.

  “It’s killing him,” Coop adds. “By the way, I had Ezrina check those mushrooms.”

  “Mushrooms?” My stomach turns.

  “You vomited in the Transfer, and they blossomed on sight.”

  “That’s right.” Coop was fascinated by my talented stomach regurgitations.

  “Turns out, they’re laced with an unidentifiable metal.”

  “What?” Gage leans over my back a little too heavy, but I don’t say anything.

  “She says there’s no known substance like it on Earth. It has no likeness to any mineral, any chemical she could compare it to.”

  “Maybe it has a compound unique to the Transfer,” Gage offers, because for one, he’s brilliant. As much as I like to be unique, I hate the idea of being extraterrestrial in a world that’s hungry for just that.

  “It’s not.” Coop flexes a dry smile and looks surprisingly like Logan in the process. “I asked. She knows the Transfer better than she knows herself. She says it’s all you, Skyla.”

  “Perfect. I’ll talk to her about my magical metallic mushrooms when I get a chance.” God, what if they’re worth millions? I can see the headlines now—Couple Hits Forbes Upon Profit Yielded from Vomit.

  I wish.

  The stench of cheap cologne fills the vicinity as Demetri’s face pops up. “Are you ready to make your announcement?”

  “No!” Gage and I say in unison, and with just the same amount of pissed-off inflection. I love it when we’re a unified front.

  “What was that about?” Gage is openly disgruntled with the frenemy.

  “It was about fulfilling a request. Wes and Chloe thought it best their news be shared first. It’s only fair. Their child arrives sooner than yours. If all goes well.” He looks to me when he says that last part.

  “What’s with the not-so vague threat?” My hand flies to my stomach and lands over Gage’s fingers, already securing a stronghold over our children.

  “No threat. Birthing can be a complicated, messy process. Things don’t always go the way we assume they will.” His face clouds over with grief. “You mustn’t toss yourself about like that anymore. A moment of carelessness can lead to eternal consequences. It may have already.” He bows and leaves with those cryptic words.

  Laken, Coop, Gage, and I get out of Dodge. Logan’s truck is missing from where it was parked when we arrived, so already I feel better that Long Legs Bakova won’t be able to drown him with her perky little breasts. But a part of me feels guilty. Why am I so against Lexy being with Logan? I am married after all. I know I should be fine with it in theory, but, the truth is, I’ll never be fine with anyone trying to claim Logan as their own. I’m sickened by how egotistical that is. I’d love to chalk it up to hormones, but I know better.

  The four of us hit Rockaway and enjoy the flickering light of a bonfire, and when the winds blow it out, I reignite it with a flick of my fingers.

  An eerie feeling comes over me, a startle of electrocution as my head snaps toward the forest.

  Someone or something is watching us. Watching me. Watching all of Paragon. I can feel them. I know they’re right here with us.

  Wesley’s decision to involve the government has escalated this conflict into a new warfront. Nothing sets a rage in me like Wesley and his piss-poor decisions. This time people will have to be contained, be killed. This time I won’t need my mother’s help. This time I’m not involving all of the remaining factions.

  Logan and I are going to take these bastards down the way we set out to do in the first place.

  Ourselves.

  The best part of being married to Gage Oliver is having the privilege to bed Gage Oliver on a nightly basis. Lex and her scrunched-up angry face come back to haunt me. I know that she—and the rest of the world—don’t realize what Logan, Gage, and I went through, that from an outsider’s point of view, I’m nothing but a whoring monster who teased two boys all through high school and still claims them both for myself, but our story is much more complicated than that. Yes, I loved two boys, and, yes, I still do. Logan was my husband, and now he is dead. Gage is my husband, and even though my mother turned the hourglass over on his life a long time ago, I still want to do everything in my power to keep him here with me. I’m not looking to kick him to the grave anytime soon. I’m no devil. Ironically, half the time I don’t feel like an angel either—perhaps something in between. Logan and Gage are the great loves of my life. There is no denying it. Lexy can never understand that. Half the time I can’t wrap my head around it either. Marshall comes to mind as that heated breath he gave me in Demetri’s pool comes back. Marshall is always saving me. I can’t deny him the right to my heart. He already has it.

  I peer out my bedroom window as Gage talks to Wes on the phone about not going to some Viden event tonight. It’s sweet the way he insists on me falling asleep in his arms, but tonight, he simply wants an uninterrupted night with his wife, and I’ll be the last to stop him, considering I’m the lucky wife in question.

  I roll open my bedroom window as Paragon gleams while the ground clouds roll across her woodlands in batches. A sharp bite of fog-fresh air penetrates my nostrils. I love the cool, wet, alive scent of the midnight mist as it swirls deep in my lungs like an opiate.

  The cawing of a bird comes from the western sky as Holden spreads his wings wide over the night while gliding his talons first in this direction. A white bird, with the same girth and width, glides up next to him. For a second, I think maybe Emerson escaped her wrought iron cage in Mia’s room. She does complain that she doesn’t see enough of her brother. Who would have thought that I would one day become the keeper of the Kraggers? But it’s not Emerson for sure, not an owl by a long shot. It’s a stark white raven, a perfect match to Holden in every capacity.

  Just a
s I’m about to inquire of his ghostly buddy, I spot a note in his beak and take it from him.

  Skyla,

  Report to the Justice Alliance for a briefing of the charges against you. Please arrive within the week. I’ve granted you administrative access for the time being.

  Mother

  “What?” I spin to find Gage already reading the note over my shoulder.

  “Shit.” He takes the fragile parchment from me, and it ignites into flames, curling to cinder before we have a chance to read it again. Gage drops it before it singes his fingers and stomps it out with his shoe. “Fuck,” he mumbles as it stains the wood floor.

  “Well, there’s that. Life just keeps on truckin’. It seems every time I feel the slightest bit relaxed, the world bends, and I have to find my center of gravity all over again.” I turn to Holden. “We’re having triplets.”

  He twitches until I put my hand over his back.

  Triplets? Congratulations!

  “He’s happy for us,” I say, unenthused. “So, who’s the hot blonde?” I’m tempted to pat the pretty white bird on the head but hold back in the event I don’t like his answer.

  Serena Taylor. Mid-century—Deorsum. She once partook in an unholy pact with the Fems—they took her to court, and the Justice Alliance sentenced her to featherdom.

  “God.” I relay the message to Gage. “That’s exactly what I’m being called to court for.”

  “Don’t worry,” Gage hums into my ear. “Things have changed. You’re Candace’s daughter. You didn’t create an unholy pact with me—”

  “I married you. It doesn’t get any holier—or, depending how you look at it, unholier.”

  “I was going to say, you didn’t create an unholy pact with me—the Fem—knowingly.”

  The white bird squawks, and I place my hand over her delicate wing, my other over Gage so he can hear as well. I can feel the barrier—the fact he is all but human is simply another hurdle for my newfound powers. I glare hard into my husband’s beautiful eyes, the color of Caribbean waters, until an unexplainable awareness lets me know I’ve penetrated his thoughts. Gage nods, letting me know he can hear me.