The Serpentine Butterfly

by Addison Moore

“No, no, no,” he says mostly to himself. Marshall Dudley is not one to panic. Hell, Dudley isn’t even one to bat an eye after his “charge” has had his head lopped off in the prime of his life. I should know. So the fact he’s having such a visceral reaction—at least as visceral as he can get—gives me pause that this was ever a good idea.

  “Follow me.” Skyla leads us to the structure in the heart of Tenebrous, the tunnels themselves. She opens up the familiar doorway that leads down a black and white checkered hall, into a mindfuck of a world that only brings back bad memories of being trapped here. In actuality, they weren’t terribly bad memories since I had the pleasure of being trapped here with Skyla, but, otherwise, this is a no-fly zone as far as sanity in general goes.

  We drop Ichabod off in the first room we see, and Skyla locks it from the outside.

  She gives Dudley a sharp look that says I’m not shitting around.

  “I need the people in the Speculum deposited here tonight. The clock is ticking, and I’m already on the line with the Justice Alliance for being married to Gage. Ridiculous charges…” She averts her gaze.

  Dudley gives a quick glance around, sliding his finger over the wainscoting and inspecting it for dust before giving his answer. “I’m afraid this is something I cannot participate in. I’ll lose far more than my wings if I mix business with pleasure. What you do with the traitors of your people is strictly up to you. My hands are as dirty as I care for them to be.” He holds up his blackened finger. “You’ll need a curator. They’ll need to eat. See Ezrina about fixing the ventilation system around here. The Counts and Fems are prone to making a pigsty of whatever their wicked talons procure. We, my love, adhere to higher standards.” He glares past us at the opened door we just came from.

  “Tenebrous very much has a curator,” a male voice calls from a short distance.

  We turn to find Ingram with his sallow skin, his glowing clipboard—the only modern device in the vicinity.

  “You’re a Count,” Skyla sneers. Actually, he has a diluted genealogy, some Count, some Deorsum, but as Ezrina has mentioned—not enough of either to matter. “You’re the Barricade personified. I doubt you’ll do what I need.”

  “I’m a mixed-breed. My bloodlines are of no concern to me anymore. I’ve been bound to these parts for so long I’m my own faction—faction Tenebrous.” He offers a brief toothy grin. “These are my stomping grounds, Skyla. I bode you to consider letting me stay on. I’m familiar with procuring food for the masses and the incidentals beyond that. I know the layout of these woods better than any Count or Fem, living or dead. Of that I can be certain.”

  “Give the man the job.” Marshall ushers both Skyla and me out of the overgrown madhouse.

  Ingram secures his clipboard, keeping pace with us as best as he can. “Bring the prisoners to the holding cell just outside to your left. I’ll distribute them to their rooms, create a file on each one, and offer you daily reports of their life and times behind these iron walls. What do you say?”

  She looks to Dudley once, and again, and he gives the briefest of nods.

  Skyla holds a hand out to Ingram. “You’ve got a deal.”

  Skyla and I have done the unthinkable.

  We’ve reopened Tenebrous—to imprison our own people.

  * * *

  I spend the next few hours dumping very much alive and protesting bodies into the holding cell down in Tenebrous while Skyla transports us back and forth from Dudley’s living room. Now that the Haunted Speculum is empty of its unwilling inhabitants, I’d like to smash and trash the damn thing. Dudley doesn’t need a portal to the seventeenth century. He’s a Sector for fuck’s sake. Besides, why is he so obsessed with those dancing damsels in STD distress anyway? He has Skyla mapped out in his future like an hourglass constellation, or more of a rounded constellation these days, but beautifully so.

  Afterward, I make sure to get Skyla home safely, then head over to the bowling alley. It’s just after two, and Ellis should be locking up the place. It was his idea that we stay open a few extra hours past midnight on Saturdays, and judging by the cars still lingering in the parking lot, it was a damn good one.

  I hop inside, where the music is still pumping through the speakers. It’s dim, save for the neon lights snaking through the place. A couple stands at the shoe bar talking to Giselle, and as I make my way toward them, it registers who they are, and my blood runs cold.

  “Giselle, go find Ellis,” I say as I approach them.

  Agent Mosley and Agent Killion expand their chests as they turn their full attention to me.

  “Logan Oliver?” Killion lifts her chin in defiance. Her orange painted lips are a little reminiscent of Emma’s.

  “That would be me.”

  Mosley takes a step forward, barring me from the exit. “We’d like to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind.”

  10

  Sweet Child of Mine

  SKYLA

  Gage and I make our way down rain-soaked Paragon streets, traversing puddle after puddle en route to the Gas Lab. Actually, he’s the one traversing with the sophistication and ease of an athlete. Thank God his back is all but healed from the miraculous fall he took last spring. There’s just the tiniest trace of a limp in him, and, at that, you have to inspect him with extra careful attention to spot it. I, however, am not traversing. I’m hobbling, hopping and waddling my way through life these long, drawn-out October days.

  “What do you think Nevermore’s surprise is?” I ask just as a giant blackbird dive-bombs me from the eaves and lands haplessly over my shoulder. A pale version lands gracefully on Gage’s shoulder—Holden’s main squeeze. It figures. All girls are attracted to Gage, no matter what species.

  “Looks like you just got another surprise.” Gage gives him a look of fury, and my panties practically melt right off. It’s never taken much to get me going when Gage is involved, but now that my hormones have been kicked up about a dozen notches, it’s like I’ve got a fire burning in my vagina that only Gage Oliver and his piping hot penis can put out. Ever since he’s been gifted those vibratronic superpowers, I’ve found myself in a sexual seventh heaven. Gage has literally been my savior with this new gift. I’ve all but sewn a cape for his penis. All I want to do is lie in bed all day and let Gage have his vibrating way with me. Gage has always had the power to arouse me, but this is unnaturally so. Now if I see him from across the room, I want nothing more than to leap over tables and chairs just to impale myself over his body. I think if all newlyweds, the world over, were gifted with these good vibrations, there wouldn’t be a divorce rate, or at least there would be a markedly lower one.

  “What is with you? Get off. I’m with child.” I try to jerk Holden from my shoulder, but he’s resistant to my remedial plea. I’m still a bit testy from the hormonal takeover, and I really do feel bad about being such a grade-A jerk all the time. “Okay, what’s going on?” I land my fingers over him softly and nod for Gage to join me. I’ll simply forward Holden’s thoughts to Gage. God, I love my new powers. Who knew a simple thought could accomplish so much? “You’d better have something great to tell me. I’m having a serious craving for some good news.”

  Justice Alliance says today is the day. Sorry I lost the note from your mom, but it kind of went like this: you know the way, today’s the day, hope things go your way—some rhyming shit like that.

  “Lovely.” I take up Gage’s hand and squeeze the crap out of it. I’m terrified of being brought to court. I almost hate the celestial legal system as much as I do hospitals, and thanks to Gage, I’m sort of bound to both. Mom—as in Lizbeth—still thinks there’s an off chance she might be able to convince me to have a home birth, but the thought of me naked, spread eagle in the living room, flailing defenseless in a kiddie pool no less, doesn’t seem to strengthen her argument regarding it being a much richer experience. I still remember coming home from prom and finding her in the kiddie pool the night she had Mystery while Demetri chanted who knows what in the dar
kened candlelit room. Of course, he was there. He’s the father.

  Holden lets out an ear-piercing caw.

  “Go on.” I land my palm over him again, and Gage does the same.

  I need a favor. You think you can ask that Sector friend of yours to officiate for me?

  “To what?” My irritation with Holden only seems to grow, especially now that I spot Lexy inside the Gas Lab pawing all over Logan.

  Officiate—you know, a wedding ceremony. Serena, here, is a bit old-fashioned. She’s from another time. She doesn’t want me to brush feathers with her until we’re legally wed.

  I glance to her blonde eminence and give a dry smile. “She does realize she’s a bird, doesn’t she?”

  Yes. Geez, Messenger, rub it in, why don’t you? Why don’t you remind us we’ll never be human again, and that I’ll never be able to fill her belly with babies the way Gage did yours.

  “Okay, okay, I get it. I’m sorry I was so callous. Yes, of course, I’ll talk to Marshall for you. Check back, and I’ll let you know what he said.”

  Thanks. And one more thing, your mother mentioned there was a little surprise she had for you. She said she could hardly wait to give it to you.

  I glance to Gage with a look of contempt. “I bet she does.”

  Holden and his pretty winged friend flap their way back under the eaves as Gage and I make our way inside the Gas Lab. Ever since Ezrina and Nev revamped their menu to include more gourmet fare, the place has been packed. They’ve even had a write-up about them in a bunch of foodie magazines. Some say they’re single-handedly responsible for at least ten percent of the uptick in tourism. The other ninety percent is attributed to Logan and his huge glowing balls—not those balls—the ones Wes and Chloe gifted him at the Cove.

  I glare at Lexy as she cozies in the booth next to him. I can’t stand her, with her perfectly tanned, perfectly toned body. If I wanted to, I could fit all of her skin and bones into my granny panties and haul her around like a papoose. I frown at her a moment. It’s clear I’m just jealous that I’ve traded my familiar frame for that of a sumo wrestler. Hell, I don’t even think I can fit behind a booth.

  “You’re here.” Nevermore pulls me in for a quick embrace. “I’ll fetch Rina.” He takes a step back and soaks me in. I’ve pulled a giant winter coat over me the size of a tarp, but I need it in the event the babies decide to rise and shine, literally. My glowing belly seems to be a phenomenon that just sort of happens whenever it feels the need. I’d like to think the kids have no idea what they’re doing, but if they have any of Demetri’s genes woven through them, they might be well aware of exactly how bright they are. It scares me in a sense. What comes next after glowing? Flying? Am I going to have to tie them down with a string on their ankles in the event they decide to float away like a pair of Femtastic helium balloons? I shudder at the thought. That can’t happen. My babies will be Celestra like me. Positive thinking, positive thinking. But, regardless, I’ll love them deeply, already do.

  Logan calls us over, and Gage and I slide across the booth from him and Lex with my belly touching the table just like I predicted.

  Lexy looks undeniably cute in her tiny denim jacket, her size negative zero jeans. I can’t help but frown at her miniature, delicate frame. Lexy has always had the body of a prepubescent boy.

  I growl at her a moment. “And why the hell is she here again?” Oops. Did I just say that out loud? Whatever will I do when I lose the excuse of my hormones?

  “Nice, Messenger.” She forces a smile to come and go. “I happened to be hanging out all by my lonesome when my favorite Celestra wandered in—I’ll give you a hint. It isn’t you.”

  “I was just talking to Dudley.” Logan motions to him, and Marshall takes a seat next to me. His thigh touches mine just barely, and with Gage still holding my hand, it’s as if I’m in a vibratronics sandwich. Dear God, yes, please.

  “This is the life,” I moan. Again? Out freaking loud? These hormones have made me practically insane.

  “There’s a meeting tonight of the Council of the Superiors.” Logan doesn’t look amused. “They’ve put an all-access stop to your invite.” His brows tick up a notch.

  “Ha!” Lexy barks out a laugh. “How do you like that, Messenger? Your own people put out a restraining order against you.”

  “Can they do that?” I look to Marshall for clarity. He’s like my legal eagle for all things celestial.

  “They can, and they did.” He scowls a moment at Gage. “I’m afraid the longer you’re wed to Jock Strap, the longer you’ll be banished from chapter meetings. However, it’s no loss. They’re powerless against the Barricade.”

  “Speaking of which.” Lexy runs a finger over the rim of Logan’s glass, and something about that quasi-sexual motion makes me want to claw her pretty little eyes out. “Wes says he’s tired of people dropping out of the Immunity League. He says he’s found a way to circumvent this. And all those flashing lights and what-not that have the world in such a tizzy? He’s done with that crap, too. This new thing he’s launching is going to eat that shit for breakfast.”

  I glance to Logan briefly. Wes thinks people are dropping out? I want to laugh. Doesn’t he realize I have Tenebrous? You would think the missing people math would be easy for a genius like him.

  Logan lets out a sigh. “I didn’t want to say anything, but I spoke with you know who.”

  Dudley grunts, “Do we look like a bunch of mind readers to you? We most certainly do not know who.”

  I’m a bit shocked by Marshall’s outburst. It’s not like him to be so short with people. On second thought, maybe it is.

  “Tweedledee and Tweedledum,” Logan growls to Marshall sternly, but that children’s book reference melts me to my core. Logan will make a wonderful uncle. “Relations of yours, I’m assuming.”

  “Apparently so,” Marshall snipes back, but I don’t really get what he means. Usually, Marshall is sharp as a whip with his comebacks.

  “The agents,” Logan clarifies. “I spoke with the feds. I managed to piss them off with a bunch of vague answers, and they accused me of willfully covering up to government officials. The entire conversation went sideways.”

  “Shit.” Gage slams his hand over the table.

  Shit is right. Everything seems to be going sideways as of late.

  “Look”—I plead with Lexy—“tell us anything you know. Lives depend on this. Any tidbit of information that you might remember can potentially save thousands.” The thought that the entire human race might actually be dependent on two ex-West Paragon cheerleaders doesn’t bode well for the civilized world in general.

  “He said something about the Videns. Hell, I don’t know.” She looks to Gage. “Ask Emily. She wasn’t the valedictorian for nothing. She knows like everything.”

  Gage swallows hard. His eyes bulge a moment as if something just slipped down the wrong pipe. “I’ll talk to Em as soon as I get home. Wes, too.”

  “Oh no, you don’t.” Lex gets fidgety. “There’s no way in hell I want him to know I’m the one who said anything. He’ll throw my ass right out of the Barricade, and then I’ll be up the government creek like the rest of you. And until you’ve got a cave you can hide the masses in, I’m staying on the safe side of the fence.”

  A cave I can hide the masses in—Tenebrous. I glance to Logan, and I can tell he’s thinking the same thing.

  Ezrina and Nev come up pulling two seats to the table.

  Nev lands a manila folder onto the table and slides it toward me. “I hope you don’t mind if we offer you an early birthday gift.”

  “Me? A birthday gift? I’m in.” I pull the envelope over and open it to find a check secured to a packet marked Gas Lab Earnings Report. “What’s this?” My eyes gravitate to the sum total on the check, and I have to blink twice to make sure I’m not seeing things. “Did you guys win the lottery or something? This is more money than I’ll see in two lifetimes.” Come to think of it, maybe Ezrina and Nev aren’t too keen on
math? Perhaps in a dizzying fit of excitement, one of them added one too many zeros to the end of the five. Heck, even fifty dollars would have been too much to gift me. “I can’t accept this.”

  Gage peers over and blows a steady breath from his lips. “Perhaps there’s an error.”

  “Let me see.” Logan pulls it toward him. “By chance, the two of you didn’t hire Gage as your accountant, did you?”

  “Very funny.” Gage pulls it back.

  “No,” Nev chirps without missing a beat. “But perhaps we should consider this. It’s tiring keeping up with all the laws and taxes.”

  “Hired,” Ezrina says in her slow, methodical drawl.

  “Hear that?” His hand rubs over mine, and I fill with inexplicable pleasure. “I just gained another client. I think I’ve just become a one-man accounting firm.” He gives my hand a firm squeeze, inspiring a throbbing pulse to ride through that tender spot between my thighs. Usually, that’s where the fun ends, but for some reason, that tender spot of mine won’t stop quaking. In fact, oh dear—

  I pant my way through it, and, just when I think I’ve got it under control, a cry of intense pleasure rips through my lungs.

  “Oh God!” I shout, completely out of breath. “Yes!” I blink back to reality, back to face the fact I’ve just enjoyed an orgasm in front of four of my closest friends, and Lexy Bakova.

  All eyes are eerily on me.

  “I’m just so excited for you, Gage.” I glare at him a moment. He totally knows how powerful his touch is by now. He’s been chasing me around the bedroom all week just to watch me have what he’s dubbed an “insta-gasm.” Suffice it to say, he’s pretty proud of his trembling “superpowers.”

  “Ooh, sorry.” He raises his hands like a thief.

  “Nothing to apologize for.” My eyes enlarge with a vague threat. “Now, what’s this about?” I try to push the big, fat birthday check back to Nev and Ezrina, but Marshall snags it instead.