Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7)

by Addison Moore

“Whoa.” Gage freezes, holding him out like a hot potato. “I don’t know how to do this.” An elevated state of panic brews in him.

  “You’re fine.” I hop across the room and pluck the bottle Mom armed me with from off the desk. “Try this.” I lay the tip over baby Beau’s lips, and he shakes his head before latching on furtively.

  “That’s better.” Gage sighs with relief. He steadies the bottle in the baby’s mouth and relaxes his shoulder against mine.

  My heart melts at the sight. Gage is going to be the hottest daddy on the block one day.

  He glances at me and his dimples ignite.

  “So…” I push into him. “What do you think happened in that vision?”

  Gage lays his head over mine. The world grows still around us, and for a brief moment, I trick myself into believing that we’re sitting in some distant future ten years out with our own child, on our own bed, free from the faction war and tunnels and Tad.

  “Would you want this with me, Skyla?” He whispers it out like the lyrics to a very sad song.

  “A family?” I pull back to look at him. “One day—very far away—but yes. I can’t wait until we make it through this all.” God, I hope we make it.

  He sighs and gives a hesitant nod. “I wouldn’t worry about the vision. Let’s get through one day at a time—one moment at a time. Just know that I love you deeply. I would never in a million years hurt you.”

  I dig my fingers into the back of his hair and dust the side of his face with a kiss.

  “Same here,” I whisper.

  But something must happen. You don’t just end up on a beach in the middle of the night screaming your lungs off at the people you love best. An ax has to fall right over your heart for something of that magnitude to take place.

  And if it’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s waiting for the ax to fall.

  I bet I know who’s responsible for landing the guillotine right over my heart. I bet she’s scheming on how to do it right this very minute.

  Chapter 52

  Testosterone Rising

  Paragon trembles. The trees sway under the hostility of the storm brewing overhead.

  Gage and I drive through a dark, restless night on our way over to Emily Morgan’s haunted habitat. The dirty clapboard hovel sits crooked on top of a sharp-peaked hill. It sits tucked in a far less posh neighborhood than even the humble Landon home resides.

  “So Dudley’s coming?” Gage furrows his brows as he kills the engine. As much as I hate making Gage miserable, there’s something distinctly hot about a worked-up boyfriend.

  “I swear, it’s just to look at Emily’s finger paintings. I have no intention of ever being alone with him. I’ll die if you leave me with him for one second.” That steamy fantasy I had earlier of Marshall flexing on top of me swirls through my mind, and I sink a little in my seat.

  “Well,” he says as his eyes saucer out, “now that your life is on the line.” He relaxes his arms around my back, and blinks a quiet smile. His demeanor quickly changes. Gage grows still, altogether serious as death. “I can’t stand the way he looks at you, Skyla. I don’t need to read minds to know he has you ten different ways—nightly.” He gives a long concerted blink at the idea of Marshall fornicating with me in his mind like some pay-per-view movie. “I take zero responsibility for how I might react if he looks at you crooked. God forbid he bumps into you.” He glances out into the blank of night. “On second thought, he can bring it. I’m a bomb just waiting to go off, and trust me, he lit the fuse the minute he set foot on this island.”

  “Don’t blow up.” I dot his lips with a kiss. “Marshall Dudley is so not worth it.”

  Gage dips in, brushes his lips across mine soft as a butterfly before nourishing me with a lingual expression that lifts us to levels of ecstasy we have never visited before.

  Let’s ditch the party. Gage pulls me close as if he’s about to save me from the strong arms of the sea.

  “I love you,” I whisper before thrusting my tongue in his mouth with a forceful kiss that falls in line with his desire to rearrange our plans for the evening. I run my hands inside his shirt and trace out his chiseled body as if it were a poem written in Braille that I’m determined to memorize. My fingers track down to his waist and I accidentally touch the hard bulge in his jeans and a groan wrings from my throat.

  A spastic knock erupts on the passenger’s side window.

  Gage and I pull back to see the Sector of his discontent in all his youthful glory.

  “Shit,” Gage says, getting out of the truck. “Let’s make this quick.”

  I take in the cool night air as Marshall seethes over at Gage. He looks like he can set off a thousand bombs with just one glance from his heavenly-ordained features. Marshall is sick of Gage, and Gage is sick of Marshall. I have a feeling they’d love to come to blows—thrash each other to pieces.

  Something tells me I won’t be leaving with Gage, if Marshall has anything to say about it. Then there’s Logan and our “date” centered around my mother and her meddling ways.

  Something tells me it’s going to be a very, very long night.

  ***

  “What’s with the fountain of youth?” I ask Marshall as the three of us make our way up the twisted path to Em’s slightly dilapidated dwelling.

  “This is the new face, love. I’ve grown bored of the tired expression that greets me each time I look in the mirror. Speaking of which—young Oliver, are you open to adventure later in the evening?”

  “I’m busy.” Gage doesn’t even bother glancing in Marshall’s direction when he asks. “Skyla and I have plans.”

  We do? I thought Logan and I had plans. I thought Gage OK’d that late-night meeting with my ex, but apparently Gage isn’t taking shit from anyone tonight when it comes to our relationship.

  Marshall strangles out a laugh. “Too busy to investigate what might lie on the other side of the most prized engineering endeavor the Fems have to offer?” If he’s trying to sweeten the pot, he’s doing a lousy job.

  I’ll throw him in myself. Shall we take bets on whether or not he emerges in this century? Marshall lays an arm over my shoulder and gives a sly smile.

  Gage flicks his arm off as if it were a swarm of bees. “Hands to your fucking self.”

  “Testy, are we?” Marshall’s eyes glow a strange mix of tangerine and crimson. “And to think I was toying with the idea of joining you in adventureland. Who knows what hijinks and hilarity would have ensued.”

  “Why don’t you do us all a favor and dive in on your own.” Gage broadens his shoulders gazing out at the dark mouth of Emily’s porch. “I could push you in if you want.”

  The wind stirs. The fog swirls around us erratic, signaling the fact a serious typhoon is about to hit.

  Marshall scoffs. “Shall we review the carnage that unfolded the last time you and that nitwit half-breed relation of yours tried to extricate me from the planet?” Marshall is incensed that Gage would even consider a replay.

  Truthfully, Marshall spared them. It was Chloe who applied her own brand of bitch squad retaliation that night and tried injecting Holden Kragger’s soul into Gage’s body by way of the Mustang. But in true Chloe fashion, it backfired magnificently, and the entire event was one huge mess that landed me in the future and Logan floating in a vat of Liquid Drano.

  “Perhaps Skyla here will join me,” Marshall purrs. “We have a lifetime of adventures to look forward to. I don’t see why we should delay the inevitable any longer.”

  Right. Like I’m going to lose my freaking mind and hop right down the demonic bunny trail with Marshall so he can paw me every chance he gets.

  “I think we’re back to Nev,” I whisper as we hit the stairs. Only, I’d hate to think of what might happen to him—Ezrina would be intolerable if I accidently offed Nevermore in the Fem-isphere. “We should throw Chloe in. Better yet—tell her Gage is in there, and she’ll go willingly.” It’s ingenious.

  “Doubtful Jock Strap has that capa
bility.”

  “I have Skyla,” Gage says, reaching for the door. “That’s all I need. And I won’t let anyone or anything take her away from me.”

  Logan blinks through my mind. The faction war—

  Before I can finish the thought, Gage swings the door open and a blast of music washes over the three of us, pulsating through our bodies with its thumping beats and rhythm.

  “Mr. Dudley?” A female voice squeals, and before long, an entire throng of enthusiastic, estrogen-laced damsels in sexual distress migrate on over.

  “Ladies, ladies—I’m here with a friend,” he says, riding his hand up and down my thigh before landing a molten kiss on the side of my face. Do you know what would make a splendid early wedding gift? If you ravaged me, right here in the midst of your peers. Go ahead, Skyla—tear off my clothes. I give you full permission. He pulls back and melts me with a smoldering look. If you’re going to have my child, we’ll have to start someplace, he adds to further entice me with his lewd request.

  I highly doubt that a party at Emily Morgan’s house will be the place where that carnal exchange occurs. In fact, I’m thinking the “realm of impossibilities” is a much more likely venue.

  I cast a quick glance over at Gage who, thankfully, is busy panning the vicinity, probably for Logan or Ellis or a good place to set Marshall’s body on fire.

  “Come here,” I hiss, annoyed at Marshall’s inconsiderate words and impossibly handsome features. He knows I’m here with Gage. I walk him over to the painting in question and jab a finger at the long canvas stretched the length of Emily’s dining room.

  “Stunning.” His lips twist as he takes it in.

  “She’s good, right?” I muse.

  “I was referring to you, love. She really brought out the come-hither in your eyes and that sensual pout you seem to throw my way on occasion. I look forward to invoking many more provocative expressions from you accompanied by that aching moan of delight you exude when you press your lips against mine.”

  Gage bites down on his disapproval and smiles for less than a second before pulling back his arm and launching his fist in Marshall’s direction.

  Marshall catches him midflight and holds him steady.

  “Think twice before discharging a physical assault,” Marshall warns. “I have no qualms about snatching you in the night and feeding you to that perverse speculum parked in my living room.” He tosses Gage back so hard he smacks into the wall just shy of the fireplace with a force that rattles the interior. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need a moment alone with the woman who will grace the remainder of my time on Earth as my wife. Find someone else to coexist with. Perhaps that cousin of yours her mother prefers. I’m sure you have a squabble you’d like to proliferate with him as well, seeing that destiny has spoken out against you.”

  “I’m not leaving.” Gage steps forward and folds his arms across his chest like a bouncer.

  “Skyla?” Marshall perforates me with a harsh stare. “I can’t work in this hostile environment. Do find a ball to occupy him with or another cheerleader perhaps. I hear he’s partial to dark-haired beauties that play fast and loose with death.”

  I spot Logan headed in this direction and spin Gage around.

  “Just hang out with him for a second,” I whisper. Ellis walks up and strikes up a conversation with Logan. They stop abruptly and look directly at me with a DEFCON level of concern.

  “You asked me not to leave.” He turns and penetrates me with his gentle gaze and kindles a fire in me that only Gage and his flesh could extinguish.

  “You won’t be leaving me, I swear. You’ll be less than twenty feet away.” I give a gentle shove in Logan’s direction. “You can watch the whole thing.”

  Gage complies begrudgingly as he makes his way over to Logan and Ellis, and now the three of them stalk us with great interest.

  I scuttle over to Marshall’s side. “What do you think?”

  “I’ve seen this before. It’s from the vision we shared months ago.” His features transform to an ultra-serious demeanor I’m not used to. “Where are the rest?”

  “The basement.” I glance back to see Gage glaring in this direction. He lets a smile slide up one side, before leaning in to hear whatever Ellis is telling him.

  “There’s a binding spirit sealing the premises—we’ll have to walk.” Marshall takes up my hand and begins leading me toward the exit.

  “Wait.” I pull him back. “I can’t go with you. Gage says you’ve turned him into a grenade, and he’s going to explode.” Nuclear bomb to be exact.

  “Messy.” He looks over my shoulder and shoots a look of contempt at the explosive himself.

  I note Chloe, Michelle, and “Pierce,” a.k.a Holden, gaping in our direction. As soon as I spot them, they dive back into conversation as if they hadn’t even noticed that it looks like I’m having a lover’s spat with West Paragon’s most controversial faculty member. Although, on this night, he looks more teen, less faculty, and for darn sure we’re not lovers.

  “Yet.” He raises my hand to his lips and nibbles on my fingers in a heated lusty exchange.

  Gah!

  I snatch it back in fear of Gage detonating into confetti-sized pieces. I’d rather wrap my hand in a bloody steak and feed it to Cerberus than reduce Gage to shrapnel.

  “I’ll let you know of my findings.” Marshall gives a quick nod. “I gather one of your male suitors will have evacuated you from the premises by the time I return. Do stray from any carnal inclinations you might have.” He digs a look of disgust over my shoulder. “Their intentions are anything but chaste. I may have to teach them a lesson.”

  I don’t like the thought of Marshall teaching anyone a lesson.

  “You don’t own me.” I try to control my voice to keep from going off the rails.

  “Neither do they, love.” He glares at them openly. “Perhaps that, my dear, is the very point that needs to be driven home.”

  I watch as Marshall speeds out the back. Michelle gives an icy look in my direction before trotting off after him.

  Chloe steps into my line of vision. She loses herself in a gaze over my shoulder, and I look back to confirm her obsession with Gage lives on.

  Chloe may not have Gage, but it doesn’t seem to stop her from longing for him, dying a little daily just to linger in his direction, molest him with her eyes.

  It looks as if this entire summer is going to be rife with lessons on ownership and relationships, heartache, and revenge.

  Chloe catches my eye and I give a little smile.

  I think some of those lessons should start tonight.

  Chapter 53

  Steam Heat

  The party at Emily Morgan’s house rages at maximum hormonal capacity with the entire teen population of the island gyrating under its questionably sturdy roof.

  The walls quake from drunken laughter. Wild screams erupt without rhyme or reason, followed up by ruthless cackles as girls and boys bump and grind into one another. This is quickly descending into an all-out orgy of naked limbs and faces tinged with lascivious intent.

  I bump into Brielle as I maneuver my way over to Logan and Gage. Her face is twisted with venom, and for a brief second, I think she’s about to unleash on Chloe for glancing in my boyfriend’s direction.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, pulling her to the side.

  “That.” She nods toward a moving heap on the couch.

  “Oh my God,” I gasp.

  My moronic stepbrother has his body draped over the mistress of ceremonies, and, holy freaking shit, I think he just pulled out a condom. Clothes start to fly, shoes are flicking off, and of course the condom in question has been launched clear across the room because dumbass Drake has no clue what to do with it.

  I head over to a table laden with beverages and snatch up a two-liter soda.

  “I will not let this shit fly,” I grit through my teeth. Really, I mean the fact Drake is about to fertilize another unsuspecting ovum. Just the thought of hi
m spewing forth another Landon heir who will most likely end up in a casket in my mother’s cemetery-themed bedroom has me beside myself.

  Brielle pulls back her chest and rides shotgun as I head over at a livened clip.

  I shake the contents of the bottle using my Celestra-inspired vigor. The cap explodes off its base, and I don’t hesitate showering the lovebirds with high fructose corn syrup just as Drake’s bare ass makes its debut for the evening.

  “What the—!” Em jumps up, dumping Drake on the floor unceremoniously.

  “Thanks, girl,” Brielle shouts as she thrusts a fist bump my way.

  Drake springs to his feet and jumps back into his jeans before getting in my face.

  “You need to stay the hell out of my business.” He grabs a hold of my shoulders and gives a hard rattle. “Stay the fuck out!” His beer breath explodes over my face.

  “Hey!” Logan knocks Drake off my person and keeps shoving him until he’s pinned against the wall.

  An eerily mounted dragon’s head supervises the melee from above. Its ruby eyes glitter, while its mouth curls up in a chilling grimace.

  Logan bumps his shoulder into Drake’s. “Does it make you feel good to pick on girls? Shake them around for the hell of it?”

  Drake plunges his hands into Logan’s chest and bucks him away.

  “You can stay the hell out of my way, too. I’m sick of Ms. High and Mighty judging me when, every time I turn around, she’s bagging half the island. How does it feel to share your girlfriend with your brother?” Drake barks in his face.

  I try to leap forward to implant a vase or the heel of my shoe in his forehead, but Gage holds me back.

  “I’m not sharing my girlfriend with anybody.” Logan picks Drake up and dangles him three feet off the ground before launching him over to the couch from whence he came.

  “Let’s go, Skyla.” Logan wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me free from Gage. “We need to talk.”

  ***

  Logan leads me right out the front door and into a palpable fog that shrouds the night with its pale splendor. I inhale its textured reserve by the lungful from the sheer rush of almost getting in an altercation with my step-monkey of all people.