“Yes!” I jump a little at the thought of picking my mother’s brain. “There’s no game tomorrow, so I don’t see why not.”
He purses his lips. “I’m glad the resolution of my future fits into your schedule. We’ll leave right after dinner.”
“Are you taking me to dinner?” I tingle all over at the idea.
“No, but would you like me to?” His forehead smooths out as if this were news.
“Oh, um, I guess not.” I shrug. “It may not go over so well if anyone from school sees us. I just thought maybe you were trying to, you know, woo me.” Quite frankly I’m a little disappointed in his lack of wooing efforts.
“Skyla.” His head ticks back a notch. “You’re my spirit wife. We’ve moved past the wooing phase of our relationship”—he leans in—“and onto the consummation portion of our union.” His lips curve a wicked grin.
“Right.” I avert my eyes for a moment. “Hey, if I consummate will you break the rules and take me to the Transfer?” I’m dying to know what the hell Ezrina is keeping from me. Besides, eventually Morley and his ex-wife are going to wake up and realize Ellis is never coming home. Not that they’ve displayed the slightest bit of interest in his wellbeing. Morons.
“Consummation in exchange for a visit to the haunt of jackals?” His brows rise as if asking the question.
“Yes.” Really, no, but it’s the thought that counts.
“Done.” He touches the papers in his hand to the desk to annunciate the fact. “By the way, I still haven’t received your homework for trig. You do realize you’re falling behind.”
“My dog ate it.” I give a hard wink.
“I’ll confirm this with your mother tomorrow night at dinner.”
“I’m surprised she’s invited anyone to dinner. She’s been cleaning out the clutter, trolling for items to sell on eBay. Tad’s pay cut has really hit us hard.”
“She did indeed extend the invitation. In fact, I believe she promised an important announcement would be made.”
“Great.” I’m clueless as to what this might be. “Hey.” A thought comes to me and perks me right up. “Nev mentioned Ezrina has a secret. Do you know what it might be?” If he spills I won’t have to faux sleep with him.
“I wouldn’t call it Ezrina’s secret per say, but, yes, unfortunately I do.”
“Spill it,” I hiss just as the warning bell goes off for next period.
“I’ve a class to teach. Be gone.” He walks toward the door, and I dash to the exit, blocking it with my body.
“Did you just dismiss me with be gone?” My mouth hangs open at his apparent undetected gaff.
He runs his hand just shy of my hip and offers a quick squeeze that leaves my entire body vibrating with pleasure.
“Be warned”—his crimson eyes sear into mine—“once the wooing begins, the last thing you’ll want is for it to end. I predict tomorrow night will be more memorable than you can ever imagine.” He extracts his hand and speeds out the door, leaving me quivering in his sensual wake.
Marshall is right.
We are far past wooing.
***
Friday evening the sky brings a sullen bruise to this world of no sunshine and no sunsets. Mom has invited the masses tonight. We are so going to need a “two loaves, five fishes” kind of miracle tonight because all she’s cooked up is one disgusting fish—head, tail, and all.
“You’ve totally lost your mind,” I try to say it sweetly. I’m guessing an emergency call to the local pizza parlor is in order. Or Logan. I’m sure he could always use the business.
“Skyla”—she glances at the ceiling in exasperation—“Cod is an oily whitefish that just so happens to be a great way to squeeze in those omega-3 fatty acids. It’s essential for all stages of life.” She gives a private smile. “So what’s with you and Gage?”
I open my mouth just as the Olivers pour through the family room, Logan and Gage just behind Emma and Barron.
Sprinkles, Mia and Melissa’s tiny dog, goes wild, barking and nearly tripping Emma as he nips as her ankles.
“Look who’s here!” Mom sings as she tackles Emma with a hug. “Now that we’re practically family, we’ll have to have you over for dinner more often.” She pinches Gage on the cheek. “So, senior year… Big things are on the horizon.”
Dear God, if this is some ambush engagement party, I’m going to hurl oily whitefish all over the place in protest. We’ll see just how essential all those omega-3 fatty acids are for the walls and furniture.
“College comes next.” Emma is quick to pull Mom back from the matrimonial ledge. “Gage and Logan both plan on attending right away.” She nods to affirm this.
Marshall swoops in behind them.
Clown college, he says with a seductive grin as he whisks a platter of something that smells like heaven over to the table. “Steak Fajitas,” he announces as he uncovers the dish for a moment before replacing the dome. It’s a complete meal in and of itself, something I feared we’d be in need of.
“Well done.” I shoot him a look that lets him know I more than approve. I’ll take cow cadaver over greasy seafood any day.
Emma and Barron disappear to retrieve their dishes. Note the plural. Emma can cook, so I’m thrilled with this news. It looks like Mom opted for a potluck, which is the entire reason Tad just stepped into the room smiling like an oaf.
Isis follows behind with a plate of whipped confections and not much else on her person. On second thought she’s the sole reason Tad is smiling like an oaf.
Demetri follows his niece, lugging something low to his waist. “Coming through!” He shouts with that fake grin plastered to his face.
Mia and Melissa scream as he passes, and my jaw goes slack in disbelief as he plops a well-bronzed pig onto the table, still in its anatomical state, equipped with a small red apple tucked in its mouth.
“Oh God.” Mom slaps her hand over her mouth like she might be sick.
“And a platter of Parma ham for appetizers.” He places a tiny silver tray on the table.
Mom makes a hurling noise and dashes into the hall.
“Well, I guess that settles it,” I say, looking at the demon in denim. “You literally make her sick.”
Demetri doesn’t say a word. He simply scuttles off in her direction with a worried look on his face.
Logan wraps his arms around me from behind, bowing a kiss into the nape of my neck, and I blush from head to toe while locking eyes with Gage. Sadly, I found the moment far more erotic than disturbing, and this unnerves me in more ways than one.
Brielle and her mother walk in with a giant frying pan that sizzles and pops as they make their way to the table.
“Bacon saves the day,” I whisper, pulling Gage in by the hand.
He scowls at Logan until his arm loosens from around my waist.
“I might get into the Transfer tonight.” I dip my knees in excitement.
“With a binding spirit?” Logan shakes his head. “I wouldn’t even bother. When the time is right, I’m sure you’ll know what’s going on.”
“Well, the time will be right tonight.” I give an apprehensive smile. “I talked Marshall into taking me.”
“What?” Logan narrows his gaze at the secretive Sector.
“That’s right. Never underestimate my womanly wiles. He’s going to let me in, and I’m going to infuse Ellis myself if I have to. There’s no way in hell I’m letting him rot in one of those stupid blue tanks.”
“He’s not in a blue tank.” Logan shakes his head before startling to attention. “I mean, you and I both saw him being wired back to life by Ezrina and her sewing needle.”
“True.” I shrug.
“I’d better help Barron,” Logan gruffs as he makes haste for the exit, but it’s Marshall he’s following out into the hall. I note Barron and Emma already in the dining room and frown.
“Something’s up.” Gage gives a sexy-as-hell smile as he backs me deep into the kitchen. I catch a glimpse of Chloe a
nd Ethan coming into the room, Em and Drake behind them.
“I think you’re up.” I bite down on my lip. I’m thrilled to be near Gage, especially now that is feels so clandestine and naughty all at the same time.
“Am I up, Skyla?” He draws it out with sadness. Gage leans in and pecks a sweeter-than-sugar kiss over my lips and my insides flutter. “Do me a favor,” he rasps it out as if the words were impossible to push from his vocal cords. “Please don’t forget who we were.” His cobalt spheres drill into me with his plea, and my stomach loosens. It takes everything in me not to drag Gage up to the butterfly room right this freaking minute.
“Where the hell is Lizbeth?” Darla barks as she tries to jostle a screaming Beau on her lap.
Where the hell is Mom? “We’d better get this party started, or everyone is going to linger all night, and I’ll never get anything done.”
“Are you doing anything else later? Other than the Transfer?” He steps in front of me as if to detain me a little bit longer.
Marshall sweeps back into the room and offers a quick wink in my direction.
“Um…” I swallow hard as an entire litany of inappropriate thoughts riffle through my mind—all of them involving my chemistry teacher. “OK.” I push a steady breath from my cheeks. “I’m attending Marshall’s conviction. The Justice Alliance is going to sentence him for crimes against nature, or some other stupid bull.” I press my lips together. “I told him I’d come along for support. And, you know who will be there, so I get to grill her.”
He draws his brows together, and my insides melt. Everything about this dark-haired knight standing in front of me has the power to melt me.
“Be careful. I don’t trust him. It wouldn’t surprise me to find out this is all some stupid front to lure you into his bed.”
“Right.” The apples of my cheeks burn bright because he so pegged it.
“Skyla”—Mom speeds past us and reaches for a glass of water—“please have everyone seat themselves. The food is getting cold.” Her face is pale, her hair moist with sweat, and her eyes are ringed with deep purple bruises.
“You puked, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she says clearly annoyed with me for asking. “Now get the show on the road. I feel like the world’s worst hostess.”
I glance over at the grand buffet.
“This was all my big idea.” Tad puts an arm around Isis and pans the table.
Something tells me it was Tad’s big idea to stock the fridge for weeks by way of other people’s groceries. I bet he’s making Mom schedule these not-so-mouthwatering potlucks for the entire next year as an underhanded means to feed his family. I’m guessing the leftovers alone can last a solid week. I glance over at the oily fish—at “Wilbur” sporting a bad suntan, and a rise of bile filters to the back of my throat.
“Everybody to the table!” I shout. I plan on diving headfirst into Emma’s offerings, Marshall’s too.
Logan comes and takes a seat next to me at the bar, with Gage on the other side. Even with the extension in the table and every chair in the house called to duty, there still isn’t enough room to house the entire lot of us.
Tad rises and whacks the blade of his knife into the side of his glass, cracking it in the process.
“For cripes sake.” He puts it down and inspects his hand for damage.
“Let me see.” Isis is quick to molest and kiss his non-booboo.
“That’s enough, Isis,” Mom snaps. “No one invited you to cop a feel off my husband.” She snatches the baby from Darla in a bout of irritation. Mom is laying claim to all that is hers tonight. I can only pray Demetri isn’t next.
“Lizbeth!” Tad gapes at her an inordinate amount of time.
“I think it’s impressive she’s fighting for her man.” Darla slithers an arm around Demetri, and Mom openly scowls at her, too. Sheesh, it’s like she’s about to fight for both of her men. This is so wrong and yet so damn entertaining.
“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Tad bellows over at Mom.
I cut a look to both Logan and Gage. “I would so never let either one of you talk to me that way,” I muse.
Mom stands, knocking back her chair in the process. “Oh, I’m about to rudely interrupt you.” She pats Beau on the back as if she were about to burp him into eternity. “This is my announcement as much as it is yours, and, dammit, it’s going to come from my lips,” she barks.
“Holy crap.” Darla throws down the linen napkin Mom ironed in haste an hour ago. “Is this one of them fancy divorce parties?”
“Heavens”—Demetri tries to hide his blooming elation—“say it isn’t so, Lizbeth.” His dark eyes leer in her direction, waiting for affirmation of the joyful news.
“It isn’t so.” Mom spits it out like a bucket of rusty nails. “Tad and I are going to have a baby.”
The room stills. Beau wiggles in her arms before opening her top and shoving his face in her boobs like a rabid wolf ready to shred its prey.
“Oh!” Brielle claps her hands. “You’re going to officially adopt Beau?”
“No.” My mother’s mouth contorts into all kinds of bizarre shapes.
A breath gets caught in my throat.
I knew it. Tad and Mom conceived right there over Emerson Kragger’s decapitated head last summer. This has bad baby juju written all over it.
“A baby!” Marshall rises and applauds.
Come to think of it, the miracle sort of warrants it.
The room comes to life with a riot of congratulations, and Mom acts as if she didn’t just chew Tad’s balls off in front of everyone.
“That’s pretty amazing.” Logan wraps an arm around me. “You’re going to be a big sister.” That longitudinal dimple I gave him inverts, and I’m overcome with the urge to hold him. Everything feels like it’s changing. Gage and me, the war, and now a new Landon will grace our midst. I wonder what life will be like this time next year.
“I’ve also started my own party planning company.” Mom throws in the shameless plug before the guests can resettle in their seats. “Think of me when planning your next big soirée.” Baby Beau vomits a white trail of curdled milk right down her cleavage.
Chloe comes over and pinches an obnoxious smile in my direction. “Isn’t this wonderful?” She looks from Logan to me. “New life is on its way. God takes away, and he gives back.”
“Ellis is coming back,” I snap. “And believe me, it’s not in the form of my little brother or sister. He’s coming back as himself.”
She glares at me from under her lashes. “Isn’t it funny how the one person you killed can’t seem to get his bearings, and yet the two I slaughtered with a heavy heart are none the worse for wear?” She gives a little cackle. “You can’t do anything right, Skyla.” Chloe runs her hand over the bar just shy of touching Logan before slithering back to her seat.
“Stupid bitch,” I whisper, and half the table turns to look at me. “Stupid glitch.” I hold up my phone for a second. “Auto correct is always making me sound so ridiculous.”
Drake mock coughs, “Excuses.” He slips an arm around Em’s shoulder and squeezes her boob like he expects it to honk. “Face it, Skyla, you’re always saying stupid shit.”
“Language!” Mom shelters Drake junior from his daddy’s table manners.
“Oh yeah?” I tap my hand to the counter. “When you open your mouth, an entire waterfall of stupid falls out.”
“See this, Lizbeth!” Tad points a hard finger in my direction. “We’re staring down the barrel of another eighteen-year sentence, playing armchair referee.”
Mom shakes her head at Tad’s lunacy before encouraging everyone to dig in.
Logan, Gage, and I rush over and help ourselves to Marshall’s fajitas before they magically disappear.
A figure moves in the backyard. I set my plate down and head toward the sliding door.
A blond flame of hair darts into the woods and disappears in the shadows. It was a guy. He had a
familiar frame like I’ve seen him somewhere before.
Funny. I could swear it looked just like my old friend from the war.
“What’s up?” Gage whispers as I take my seat.
“I swear I just saw Cooper Flanders take off into the woods.” I shake my head. It was probably just a reflection in the glass.
“Cooper?” Logan exchanges a glance with Gage.
“Yes—why? Is there something I should know about Coop?”
“I was just telling Gage I thought I saw him leaving the bowling alley.”
“That’s strange.” I ponder what it might mean. “Maybe he’s trying to tell us something?”
Gage shakes his head. “Don’t know, but we’ll catch up with him.” He nods. “Logan and I have been meaning to pay a visit to that boarding school of his.”
“Why?” I’m suddenly fearing for Coop and his handsome face. “You’re not going to hurt him, right?”
“Why would we hurt him?” Logan smirks. “We’re much more interested in hurting Wesley.”
“Wes?” I run my fingers over my throat. It’s been a couple weeks since they’ve called me to the Tenebrous Woods, and I’m not missing that place in the least. The Celestra tunnels are the last place I want to spend a Saturday night.
Demetri and Tad argue over how to best slice up the poor piglet taking up real estate on the table, and a blade goes flying through the air ala Ezrina style. It nicks the tip of Tad’s ear, and a velvet seam of blood trickles down the side of his face.
“Oh dear God, I’m bleeding!” Tad reels like a drunkard.
Isis hops up and inspects the tiny scratch.
“Come here.” She wraps him in a napkin before Mom can waddle her way over with the baby.
“Oh!” Mom wretches, extending the baby at arm’s length. “Is it time for the potty?” She over annunciates into the baby Count, and he evokes a startled cry. She plucks off his clothes, running and gagging her way out of the room.
The guests at the dinner table resume to their feast as if the blood, vomit, and feces had little to no effect on their appetites. I suppose a side of insanity is the one true dish the Landon house knows how to serve best.
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