“Where do you think he went?” I unscrew the cap on my water bottle and swig down the remainder. Fucking Gage. Here he’s got the world on a string—Skyla in his flea-infested bed—and yet he’s running the celestial sphere trying to play superhero by night, or at least that’s the best case scenario. He doesn’t know how good he has it. If the roles were reversed, I’d hole up in bed with Skyla day in and day out. I’d keep her pinned beneath me and run my lips over every inch of her honey sweet body. Gage has no clue what a gift he has—the privilege of having Skyla—my Skyla, in reality our Skyla, as his wife. The idea is tortuous to me in every way. He has her in the flesh, and all I have are a few dreams in my pocket.
“Transfer, Tenebrous—who knows?” She gives a hard sniff. “God, it feels like I’m losing him.” She pulls her knees to her chest, and her body bucks as she begins to cry.
“It’s okay.” My hand finds a home over her back as I try to soothe her with my empty words. I don’t know if it will ever really be okay. Skyla is hurting, and Gage is the one who’s causing the pain. Her fingers interlace with mine as she composes herself just enough. It would be so easy to draw her to me, to invite her into my bed and make her mine. Gage has left the door to his marriage unwittingly open, and here she is next to me. Their union is fracturing, and yet our bond remains unshakable.
“I can hear you.” She smarts, pulling her arm gently from my grasp.
“I know.” I offer her a tissue, and she blows her nose. Even that small insignificant act endears me to her. I can’t help it. I’m as smitten as the day I first laid eyes on her. Skyla was made for me. I shake my head because I can’t believe it’s not my ring she’s wearing. “Do you want me to try and track him down?”
“Can you? We can do the dream thing again.”
“No, it was a coincidence he was at Tenebrous. We were there to spy on Wesley. Gage is more careful than that. If he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be.”
“Then that’s how we’ll find him. We’ll track down Wesley. Or what about Chloe? You think she’d lead us to him?”
“Not to alarm you, but she’s probably with him. She’s been connected at the hips, literally, to Wes. I wouldn’t mention that to Laken, either. She might be with Coop, but I could tell how raw the emotion was between them. They’re far from healed.”
“I agree. I wouldn’t be too surprised if she never spoke to me again after what happened tonight. It’s a wonder she can stand to be around Gage.”
“Speaking of him, have you confronted him yet?”
“And give him the opportunity to feed me a bunch of BS on how he’s doing this for the good of our people? No, thank you. I want him to fester like a wound until he bursts open with the truth. I want to see how long it takes before he finally comes clean and confesses what he’s done.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Then that means he’s serious. That he doesn’t mind keeping things from me. That he might just be interested in what Demetri has to offer after all.”
“That’s doubtful.”
“So was the fact he was a Fem, and look how that ended.”
“Hey.” A deep voice emits from the doorway, and we both turn to find Gage standing there in his sweats. His hair is slicked back and wet. “Everything okay?”
Skyla looks to me, her face bleaching out more severely than before. “I was scared. You were in the shower so long, and I couldn’t stand to be alone.” She hops up and makes her way to the door. Her skirt is hiked a little higher than intended in the back, and I can’t help but notice her bare bottom. “It must have been the rain. It’s been keeping me up.”
“I’m here. I’m sorry I took so long.” There’s a hint of pain layered over his features that I haven’t seen before. Gage buries his face in her hair before giving me a brief wave as they leave the room.
Sorry he took so long.
I switch off the light.
Something tells me he’s not.
Days drag by with Skyla and Gage itching and twitching under the same roof, and as long as they’re taking up residence here, I’m not willing to budge from the Oliver house. Selfishly, I want to be near Skyla. I like the scent of her hair in the morning as we sit and chat over breakfast. I live for her smile as she walks through the door in the evening. It’s as if we’re playing house, only she ends up in the wrong bed at night.
While they’re at school, I’m locked in my office over at the bowling alley trying to figure out how to remedy the slumping sales. I thought for sure when I presented Skyla with the ludicrous idea of a tea room that morning, she’d come straight over. And she would have if not for Brody Bishop and his rust mobile. I’ve done a little investigating, and it turns out it’s true, he’s finished up with school and followed Brooke Johnson all the way back home with his dick between his legs. According to Brielle, he’s pined after Brooke for as far back as grade school. They eventually got together, but apparently there was a blowout, and now they’re hardly on speaking terms. So who knows, maybe Chloe had nothing to do with the fact Skyla found herself eating concrete the other morning, but something in me isn’t settling into the idea of Chloe’s innocence so quickly. I’ve made the mistake of trusting her before. And look where that landed me—headless and dearly departed.
A small mob comes in, and I find Michelle and Lexy skipping over. They’ve both held onto their summer positions at the bowling alley. I’ve got a small army of part time employees so that helps with not having to pay out medical. The only fulltime employee I have is Ellis. He’s sort of a drain on finances since I have to keep after him to actually do some work while he’s on the clock.
“Good afternoon, ladies. How was school?” It seems everyone is at Host these days but me. I’m taking a full load online, but it’s not the same.
“Lonely without you.” Lexy runs her finger over my jaw. “I wish you’d reconsider those adult classes. We need you there to sex up the campus. Those college boys are ridiculously boring, and have I mentioned not you?” Lexy has been after me for as long as I can remember. She almost caught me a time or two. She’s a bit bolder than she was in high school, and for sure she’s made it a daily point to invite me to her bed. Lex and I dated for a while, but it was Skyla who finally stole my heart.
“You have, and, believe me, I appreciate the thought but this place needs my daily presence.” Besides, the last thing I want to do is thrust myself in Gage and Skyla’s face 24/7. As much as I might dislike it, this is their time. I’m simply gliding by on the Treble that Candace was kind enough to gift me. A strange thought flashes through my mind, leaving quick as it came. Candace isn’t exactly the giving type. There always seems to be a purpose, a direction, a plan of action that she sets into motion. Maybe I’m more than a visitor?
“Earth to Logan.” Michelle waves her hand over my face. “So has he said anything?”
“Who? Liam? Not that I know of, but I haven’t been to Dudley’s in a week. For all I know he’s crying his eyes out in his pillow every night. Why don’t you call him?”
“I saw him yesterday at the Gas Lab cozying up to a blonde over coffee.” Lex smirks. “Face it Miller, he’s moved on without you.”
Michelle sniffs at someone behind her. “Speaking of moving on without you.”
“Well, looky here!” A familiar voice pipes up from behind. It’s Skyla with Gage. “It’s like a high school reunion every day around this place.”
My heart sinks like a stone just seeing his arm around her waist—that goofy grin blooming on his Fem-loving face. Makes me want to smack it right off.
“All right, everyone, find something to do before I fire the entire lot of you.” I grumble while searching for a rag to wipe down the counters with.
“Oh, that’s him!” Skyla jumps a little as some dark-haired dude bowls a strike.
“That’s Brody?” I gave him the shoes without realizing he was the douchebag I was trying to find who hit Skyla. I only vaguely remember him from back in the day. He ran
with the older crowd and my eyes were glued to the female population at the time.
“Let’s say hi.” Gage says it stern, not waiting for anyone’s approval as he stalks on over.
I speed behind him ready but not willing to break up a fight.
“You hit my wife?” Gage gives him a hard shove in the chest without so much as a hello.
“Skyla.” Brody holds his hands up a second, and I see Chloe’s reflection in his countenance. Freaky.
“Really, it’s okay—I’m okay.” She stresses placing one hand on Brody’s chest and the other on Gage. “He’s just a bad driver.”
“The sun was in my eyes.”
The room grows quiet save for a few balls speeding down the lanes because we all know the sun never shines on Paragon.
“All right, I may have been a little distracted by the fact my heart was wrenched in two. I swear as soon as I saw her I hit the brakes.”
“You’re lucky she’s okay”—Gage twists his fist into Brody’s shirt—“or I’d roll you in a ball and knock out a couple of strikes myself.”
“Relax.” I break them up before Skyla ends up on the floor again. “He was wrong. She’s all right. Let’s move on.” I glare at Brody a moment. “I’m Logan Oliver. I knew your sister.”
“You knew my sister?” He darts a quick look to each of us assessing us all in turn as he makes the rounds. “My parents said she’s not coming back. That if she does, it’s relatively temporary. They haven’t seen her in months.” Gone is his playful demeanor.
“Chloe isn’t dead.” Michelle clutches at her scarf. “I just saw her at the Gas Lab. She’s been a real bitch lately, but that’s just her new standoffish self. Ever since she hooked up with Pierce, it’s like she turned into an entirely different person.”
Brody gives a soft laugh at Michelle’s expense. Something tells me he’s already been apprised of Ezrina’s standing.
“Is that so? I’m not familiar with the Gas Lab. Would you care to show me around?” He’s openly seducing her. I glance over my shoulder for Liam, but both he and Ellis are nowhere to be found.
“I’d love to.”
They take off like a pair of lovesick puppies while Lexy and Gage make themselves busy. But Skyla stays in the vicinity as if she has something she’d like to share.
“I’m all yours.” I can’t help the innuendo if you’d call it that. I can’t help throwing myself wildly at Skyla because it feels like that’s what I was designed to do.
“He’s disappearing nightly. He doesn’t think I notice.” She picks up the shoe polish and starts buffing Brody’s leftovers without looking my way. “But I notice, Logan. I feel like I’m losing him. Find a way to follow him. I want to know what he’s up to.”
“I can’t do it on my own.”
“Who do we need?”
“Dudley.”
“He’s your supervising spirit. This should be a piece of cake.” Her brilliant blue eyes light up the room. It’s something Skyla does on an everyday basis, but it gets my heart racing, or at least it would if I weren’t already dead.
“I asked. He refused me.” I don’t tell her that he wanted to hear it from her.
“Well, he won’t refuse me. Be ready for action, Logan. I’m not doing this without you.”
Skyla walks away like a woman on a mission, and she is.
I track my eyes over the bowling alley until they land on my nephew. The truth is, I was a little relieved when Dudley refused. I was afraid of what I might discover about the boy I grew up with. Gage has always been like a brother to me. We’ve been brothers, teammates, a unified front on just about everything including our love for Skyla. But what if this is it? The fork in the road where our paths part one final time. What if the man he’s become is nothing like the boy he used to be.
What if Gage has truly become the enemy?
3
Paragon in Nocturne
Skyla
A lashing gale whips over the island. You can feel its impotent rage as it tries to inflict its punishment upon the rocky crags, the hillsides laden with buffalo grass. On occasion, in my own anger, I lash out like the wind, inflicting my impotent punishment upon those unfortunate enough to cross my path. That person is usually my mother, the one in the heavenly sphere that I’m most angry with. And so it is on this occasion when I have no control over my husband’s midnight wanderings, which I can only guess is in the name of the Nephilim. If he thinks this is a means of salvation, he’s dead wrong. Siding with evil is never a sure path to victory, rather a deadly distraction that can only claim our own mortality, and, in this case, God forbid, that of others. But I’m not saying a word to Gage about it—mostly because he hasn’t said a single word to me.
The Landon house glows serene on this early Saturday morning. Gage and I have taken to sleeping at the Oliver’s only to return to our lackluster apartment during the day, which is mostly after school until we’re starved enough to head back to Paragon. Thankfully we’ve managed to convince Logan to keep us on the same schedule at the bowling alley, so, on the odd days we do work, at least we’re together. You’d think we’d be sick of one another by now, but, the truth is, I can’t get enough of Gage. I’m addicted to his dimpled smile, those deep, ocean eyes, his calming spirit which keeps me grounded. But it just so happens that at some point today I’ll have to lose him if I ever plan on speaking to Marshall.
“Good morning!” I chirp as Gage and I head into the family room. Mia and Melissa are already on the couch noshing on toaster pastries while soaking in some junk TV. I miss this. Everything at the Oliver’s is always so uptight with Emma serving up a gourmet breakfast under her penalizing scrutiny. I can’t take another minute of that did-you-bury-my-son’s-head-between-your-legs-under-my-roof look on her face. She’s forever sidelining me with little quips about my character, bringing up Kresley like she’s Gage’s dead wife whom, by the way, she much prefers. Emma is bringing out the bitch in me, and I don’t happen to like it. What doesn’t she get about the fact that Gage actually chooses to be with me?
“Skyla!” Mom hops up and bypasses me for my better half. “And here’s my new son-in-law. It’s been days since I’ve seen you both. I’m not liking this one bit.” Mom strokes Gage’s arm as she coaxes us deeper into the kitchen.
“We’ve missed you, too.” Gage is quick to assure her.
“Don’t miss us too much.” Tad flattens his paper. “I don’t want you to get any ideas about taking residence upstairs. We heard all about your bedbugs. The last thing we need in this house is nits. You hear that kids?” Tad bellows over his paper toward Mia and Melissa. “They’ve got nits! You’d better delouse yourselves after this visit just to be safe.” He looks back at us. “Keep your paws off the rug rats.”
“Will do.” I raise my brows at Mom. “For the record, we don’t have nits. We had scabies.”
Mia and Melissa give a collective eww. Figures, it takes a parasite to unite those two.
“Which, by the way, we no longer have.” I try to ignore their continual groaning as I pour both Gage and me a steaming cup of Joe.
“Hey, Greg”—Tad calls out to the wall of steel by my side—“why don’t you make yourself useful and help the boys piece together the mobile unit out back.”
“Let him enjoy breakfast,” Mom interjects. “Drake and Ethan are off to a great start.”
“They’re off like a herd of turtles!” Tad gives a disapproving growl. “Grub up, Greg, and move ‘em out.”
“It’s Gage,” I correct, drifting to the back porch where an enormous house has erected itself over the dark swatch of land that Drake and Brielle were tilling last week. “Wow, that is huge.”
“It’s the Taj Mahal.” Tad appears by my side and sneers at the offense. “Only it’s hooked up to my plumbing.”
“Look at it this way”—I muse—“you’ll have three fewer bodies in the house.”
“Three?” Mom sniffs. “Oh, they’re not taking my little Beau Geste. He’ll catch a
cold in that death trap. He’s staying put right here with his Mee-Maw.”
“Mee-Maw?” Really? There are a million versions of grandma to go with, and she chooses the one that mimics the braying of a donkey?
“Don’t you love it?” Her nose wrinkles in self-approval. “Emily’s mother is grandma, and, of course, Darla insists on G.G. (Gorgeous Grandma), so I thought why not Mee-Maw? Don’t you think I fit the bill?” She leans forward only to have her blouse fall open and expose two skin-colored water balloons, one of which has little Misty suckling away on. Mom’s toothy smile broadens awaiting our approval. There’s a piece of something dark and leafy covering her top canine, and yesterday’s mascara has smeared itself into dark half-moons under each eye.
“Yes.” I carefully close her exposed bits and pieces. “Mee-Maw suits you just fine.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you think so,” she gasps, clasping my wrist. “As soon as possible, I expect you two to produce an entire brood of adorable little ones so I can have a whole choir of miniature voices crying out Mee-Maw! Mee-Maw!”
“They’re going to sound like donkeys.” Mia is quick to point out.
Ha! My thoughts exactly.
Melissa snorts. “And because they’re related to you, they’ll be jackasses.”
“Girls!” Mom cries with a hard edge to her voice. Mia and Melissa haven’t gotten along since Melissa snaked Gabriel Armistead from underneath Mia. It’s been a hormonal World War Three ever since. I think it’s high time Mia finds something else, or someone else to occupy her time with. I’ll have to find some time alone with her soon and fill her in on the fact that we’re in charge of our own happiness. That we shouldn’t try to hold people in our lives who don’t want to be there—point in case, assholes like Gabriel Armistead.
The Dragon and the Rose Page 7
