“Shit,” I seethe.
A strange light catches my attention. A flaming arrow, one, then three, then six—a multitude of them erupt over the horizon followed up by an entire throng of people—the Counts. They rain their fiery weapons over the sky and a few land in the pile of kindle that has Ellis trapped.
“No,” I say, struggling to pluck off the log. I can feel the skin on my palm burn as needlelike splinters dig into my flesh—blood trickles to my elbow from the gash on my right hand.
The oversized nest we’re trapped in lights up like a tinderbox. An inferno comes from nothing, and soon, the entire ethereal plane glows in an amber frenzy.
“Skyla, get out!” Ellis howls.
I glance up at the war raging in front of us. The Counts have paused from their revelry, surprised by the Celestra fighters converging on them from behind. Gage leads the assault, wielding a crossbow.
I give a labored groan as I push, channeling all of my anger toward Demetri and the Counts until the log over Ellis finally gives. An ember lands on my scalp, sending a sharp pain that begs for me to stomp it out. A wall of fire comes at the two of us—the heat sears over my flesh before the flames ever touch me.
“I got it.” Ellis helps push the beam off and spins from underneath. He tackles me and rolls us over the muddied soil.
Gage comes in and swoops me up. He yanks Ellis to his feet with the strength of a lion before running us out into the open field away from the wall of flames. It’s only then I notice my back was on fire, that Ellis’s hair is singed on one side.
“You’re bleeding.” Gage pulls my hand forward. His face bleaches white at the sight of the crimson tracks running down my arm.
“It’s just a cut. Where’s the orator?”
“Haven’t seen him.”
“Hurt my fucking back.” Ellis barely gets the words out as he straightens.
An arrow slices through the narrow gap between Gage and me.
We glance over at its origin and find Chloe and Nat elbow to elbow. Behind them, an entire mob of people enliven in a fury and most of those are cut and bleeding. I scan the area for Cooper.
Another arrow slices by.
Ellis pulls us to the ground, and we roll over to the giant inferno.
You know you’re in deep shit when only a wall of fire can protect you. But not even the prehistoric danger of fire is enough to eliminate the threat of Chloe Bishop.
“Let’s get to the woods.” Gage darts a finger toward the murky shroud that lies behind the first few trees. “Ellis, go left.” Gage shouts as if this were the football field.
Ellis breaks off and Gage scoops me into his arms. The fighting has dissipated, leaving the ground soaked in crimson, as injured bodies lie scattered around. How the hell are we supposed to know who’s Celestra and who’s not?
An explosion rockets to our left, detonating into a mushroom cloud of sulfuric gasses.
Gage jostles me through a veil of smoke so thick it strangles out any hope of taking a breath. It stings our eyes shut, rendering us blind in this heated mess. Gage trips and I sail out of his arms, landing with a thud, face-first, against a jagged rock.
“Shit,” I whimper, touching the fresh cut on my cheek. I keep low to the ground where the smoke is thin and crawl until I hit the first set of pines.
I take in the frail air, choking on the fumes as I pan the vicinity for Gage or Ellis.
A hard slap ignites across my face as a stone depresses itself just below my left eye. Footsteps enliven the earth and I glance back to find Chloe thundering in this direction.
My knees buckle as I stagger to my bloodied feet. The whites of Chloe’s eyes glint through the shadows. Her mouth is opened and laughing. I don’t hang around for the Bishop show. Instead, I run like hell, deep in the thicket.
I have no Gage or Ellis or weaponry to help fight against the menace that is Chloe.
The only thing left is rage.
And I’m damn sure that’s enough.
Chapter 43
Killing Fields
Time stands still. The forest dampens with the sound of screaming, the thunder of warfare just beyond its borders. I can hear Chloe breathing as the faction war flares around us. She doesn’t bother to soften her footsteps—just keeps barreling toward me.
My feet sting, my muscles ache. The air thins out. The long tendrils of smoke dissipate to nothing in this region of the woods.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Chloe chants like a schoolgirl as if this were some innocent playground game. “I’ve got a treat for you.” She taunts as though I were an animal. “Don’t you want to know what it is?” Her voice is close enough to touch. Her breath curls in vapors around the fat trunk of a spruce.
I take a step back and trip over a branch, landing flat on my ass.
Shit.
Everything in me is on fire, my joints grind as I rise to my feet. I suck in a sharp breath as a cut pronounces itself under my right heel.
“Here you are.” Chloe stains the shadows with her wicked frame. A silver chain dangles from her left hand. The protective hedge swings like a pendulum with its filigree, round as a silver dollar. The blue stone glitters in the center. “Shall we make a game of it? You can chase me, or I can toss it in the air and we’ll see who catches it.”
“I’ve already been taken by the Counts. It’s no use to me.”
“Oh, stupid, stupid Skyla,” Chloe sings. “They can’t take you anywhere, harm you, or siphon the blood out of you if you’re wearing this. Don’t you know any of the rules?”
I may not know the rules, but I damn well know Chloe. This is just another lasso she’s luring me into.
I make my way past her, unable to take my eyes off her lunacy. Chloe and I have a history in a dark forest much like this one, and that scenario didn’t end well for her in particular.
A fiery sting rakes up my leg with every step I take and I try to ignore it. Instead, I scan the landscape with my peripheral vision for Gage or Ellis but something tells me I should be looking for a stick to put Chloe’s eye out with.
Chloe comes in close. She takes a step in toward me as if she’s about to whisper in my ear, pinning my back against an evergreen in the process.
A line of pain rips through my thigh. I glance down to find a seam of blood erupting like a flare.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” A serrated knife with a curved blade takes up the space between us. “Did I knick you?” She gives it in a heated whisper as her aggression boils over. “It’s sort of reminiscent of those long gashes you inflicted on me before you buried the spirit sword into my back.” She steps into my chest. “Do you remember? You handed me over to Ezrina—you let the Counts have their way with me. I guess karma’s a real bitch—isn’t it, Skyla?”
“It should be you they’re sucking dry.” I shove her hard in the chest. “It should be you and only you in those tunnels. I don’t get what vendetta you’ve had against me or my family before we ever set foot on Paragon, but I’m betting it has something to do with the fact you were rejected by more than just Gage.”
Chloe winces as though I hit the “discard” nail on the head.
“Hit close to home, did I?” I hold back a laugh. “What I want to know is, who would be stupid enough to consider you in the first place.”
Chloe ignites a slap across my already swollen cheek, and my lip splits down the center, leaving a seam of blood to salt my tongue.
“Maybe you should ask your mother, Skyla. Or doesn’t she love you enough to let you in on all our faction-centered secrets?”
The ethereal plane shakes. The ground trembles in a violent earthquake. A loud tearing sound fills the thicket as tree roots rip straight from the soil. Chloe falls backward and sends her knife sailing to my feet.
I swipe the blade off the ground, my blood still slicked along the sides. The shaking ceases to a light rumble as I scan the area for the protective hedge.
“Right here.” She waves it at me as if reading my m
ind.
A male voice cries out in pain from the clearing, and I recognize it distinctly as Logan.
“I could have you, Chloe.” I take a step forward and jab at her stomach with the tip of the blade. “This knife could share our blood. Isn’t that romantic?” I taunt while slicing a gash into the bottom of her shirt. Logan groans in the distance and splits my attention. “Right now, I’d rather save a friend,” I say, speeding out of the woods.
“Skyla!” Logan shouts as I crest the edge of the tree line.
“I’m coming,” I say, bolting over to him. Logan lies shirtless, his chest washed in crimson. His face is covered with soot; both his hands are cut and bleeding. “What happened?” I pant, examining the deep lacerations over his flesh. They make my wounds look like scratches from a kitten.
“Landed in a thorn bush,” he says sarcastically while glancing back at a crowd of people draped with black vests as they make their way through the clearing. Heavy weaponry dangles from their hands. By the looks of their well-rationed artillery, they’re most likely not Celestra.
But Logan is hurt and I doubt a thorn bush had anything to do with it. He has a hole just below his ribcage where an arrow had dug in, and a clean slice down the back of his shoulder that’s gapping a good few inches, leaving the muscle exposed underneath. What hurts most is the people who inflicted these wounds were either Noster or Celestra. Everyone’s bought into the fact that Logan is the enemy.
“Are you OK?” He pulls my hair back—leans in until his nose touches mine.
I nod as I bring my lips to his cheek. “You’re here,” I marvel.
“Are you kidding? Not even Ezrina could keep me away.” He coughs. “Here, take this.” He pulls a dull black gun out of his pocket. The barrel is round and fat. It looks slightly deformed, not real, like maybe he yanked it off a video game in the arcade. “Shoots darts loaded with toxins. It’ll knock out an elephant for a good half hour—more than enough time to get you out of danger.” They can’t see me with you, he presses in a heated kiss against my temple. “I gotta go.” He takes a step away and holds my hand as far as our fingers will allow before taking off beyond the thicket. Chloe calls after him and runs off in the same direction.
Arrows hail from the sky, dot the path thick with their long slender rods. Two opposing crowds clash in what looks like a mob scene. It looks all-out animal, a tangle of limbs, heartbreaking screams. This isn’t right. None of this makes sense.
Nat catches my eye as she spears a man on the outskirts of the melee.
A frail girl, with long, stringy hair runs past me for cover in the forest. She eyes my gun and pauses.
“Don’t just stand there. The Counts are killing Celestra.” She pulls her words out in a strange manner, making them sound congested, contrived.
I take a breath and head over to the massive crowd. The heat of hatred lights up the landscape. I can smell the bite of perspiration, the metallic hint of blood rising in the air.
The mob pummels a pair of familiar-looking bodies to the ground.
“Oh my God.”
Crap. They’re beating Cooper and Flynn. A heavy-set man with steel toe boots gives the lanky boy, Flynn, a good kick in the teeth. They grind their faces into the dirt and shout for justice for their Countenance brothers. They follow their battle cry up by pounding their fists into the two of them.
If justice is what they want, that’s what I’ll give them.
I fire Logan’s weapon into the crowd, nailing a half a dozen of them. They drop like flies, landing over one another in a satisfying heap.
I spring over and extricate Cooper first. He winces as he rises and helps up his friend.
“I owe you one,” Flynn says as he tries to catch his breath. He’s tall and a little gangly, but they both have gorgeous, cut features and eyes that glow against the sodden sky like polished stones.
“Yeah, well, next time,” I say, heading back to the forest.
They come up alongside me as we make our way into the thicket.
“You knocked out a few of our own who were trying to help,” Flynn says, dusting the dirt off his expensive looking pullover.
“Friendly fire,” Cooper pats my shoulder as we move into the woods. “They’ll be back on their feet in half the time as the Counts. You can’t hold a good Celestra down.” He winks.
“Let’s hope not,” I say. “I feel horrible. We should go back and pull them out.”
We glance at the bodies still motionless on the ground. The fire still rages to the south where Ellis and I were pinned earlier. It congests the region with a layer of smoke, just enough singe our lungs, make us choke with every other breath.
The frail girl comes back, giving a greasy smile. She launches a missile off her shoulder, and the circle of men I put down goes up in flames.
“Shit!” I scream. “Celestra are there, too!”
“They’re going to kill us anyway.” Her pale eyes glare into mine with animalistic ferocity. “All of the Countenance must die.”
Logan spears through my mind. Not all. Dear God, please not all.
The earth shivers, the moon and the lavender sky turn a strange ashen grey, and the ethereal plane melts into nothing.
Chapter 44
Vertical Roughness
Gage and I appear back in the hotel suite locked in a rather compromising position with me wearing Ellis’s clothes.
“Geez!” Gage hops off and switches on the lights. “You’re cut head to foot.”
“What happened? Did we win?” Hope surges in me for the first time.
“I don’t know. I met up with Ellis again. He’s pretty banged up. He’s got a back injury for sure. I told him I’d have my dad stop by and look at him, but he needs to go the hospital.” His features darken. “I saw Logan.” His gives a long blink. “He told me what he was doing for you—for Ezrina.”
“It wasn’t my idea. I swear.” Involving Ezrina in anything is like setting your roof on fire to warm the house.
Gage scoops me in his arms and winces at my wounds before brushing me with a kiss.
“There isn’t anything we can’t survive, Skyla. I promise you this.” Gage gathers our things from around the bed. “I need to get you back to Paragon.”
***
Gage delivers us right to my bedroom and starts the shower for me.
It stings like hell trying to clean these wounds. Just wetting them feels like a fresh laceration. I pray Dr. O doesn’t have to whip out the sewing kit because my leg has been slashed straight up my thigh.
Afterward, Gage helps wrap my leg with a bandage then settles a kiss on top of the wet curls springing to life on my head.
“One day,” he says, peppering my ear with kisses, “the vision we shared will come true, and there will be no one, or no war, no anything to interrupt us—just you and me, Skyla—all night long.”
I give a naughty smile. My stomach tenses up at the idea of no war left to interrupt us—the war may not but Logan will. It’s strange how I’ve accepted this season with Gage yet haven’t bought into the future. I can’t stand the thought of losing one of them for good. I guess that’s the upside to the faction war. I have them both for a time—Logan won’t accept me, and Gage won’t let me go. I hate how greedy that sounds. They’re both worth their weight in gold. “Hey, that reminds me.” I retrieve the note I jotted down at Marshall’s and tape it to the mirror above my desk.
“I’m as pure as gold.” Gage reads.
“I had this dream. I think it was a vision. It was my dad. He said I needed to repeat that each day—that I should never forget it.”
Gage warms me with a hug from behind as we look at the strange verse, trying to decipher what it might mean.
“I disagree with him.” Gage sears a line down my neck with his lips. “You’re much better than gold, Skyla.”
I catch my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are swollen, my lip split in two, my right cheek rises from my skin like a red water balloon. Obviously Gage is talkin
g about what’s on the inside because, physically, there’s not a whole lot I’m better than at this moment.
I spin into him and wrap my arms around his neck. “You’re pure gold inside and out, Gage Oliver.”
The door bursts open.
“Skyla?” Mom opens her mouth to say something then just continues to gape at the two of us as if she caught us gutting a litter of puppies. “Good God!”
Gage steps in front of me to cover my injuries, but it’s too late. Mom makes a beeline in my direction.
“Skyla,” she gasps.
Tad rushes in like that’s the code for all holy hell is about to break loose.
“What have you done?” Mom touches her hand to my cheek, and I wince in pain.
“Can’t you tell?” Tad’s entire body jerks as though the source of my injuries is painfully obvious. “He clobbered her.”
“He did not.” Mom doesn’t hide her disgust with my step-moron.
“I would never lay a hand on Skyla.” Gage refutes the accusation with a pissed off look that suggests he’s not opposed to clobbering Tad.
“Nor did he.” I try to emulate my mother’s look of disgust, but my face finds it too painful to comply. “I fell.”
“That’s what they all say.” Tad raises his head in suspicion.
“You fell?” Mom’s eyes bulge, clearly she’s not buying my version of the truth either.
“I fell down a flight of stairs as we got back on the ferry.” I shrug. It seems reasonable. I mean they practically have you climbing down a ladder to get into that sardine can. It’s completely plausible.
“We’ll sue!” Tad’s face springs to life at the prospect of a windfall.
“No—they were really nice about it.” I shoot a look to Gage that suggests he should support my falsehoods with a few of his own.
“Why don’t I get my dad to look at those for you?” Gage presses in a warm smile as he brushes the hair from my eyes.
Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7) Page 24
