Toxic Part Two (Celestra Series Book 7.5)

by Addison Moore

  “Do you think I’ll burn?” I ask Logan as he helps me rise from the table.

  He pulls me in and dots my lips with a morose kiss.

  “I think we both will.”

  Chapter 96

  The Rabbit Hole

  The clearing in the sky fills in with fire. The burnt clouds swallow the blue window to the atmosphere in a rolling fury. There is a cruelness in their eager desire. They don’t bother to hide their jealous hunger. Those dark clouds want to punish the beauty of the flawless sky, devour it, digest and expel it from its bowels to teach the atmosphere a lesson.

  Nevermore lands on my shoulder heavy as a brick. I’m guessing he’s all pent up and in need of a sexual reprieve by way of Logan’s dream spa.

  “I never want us to burn,” I say, relaxing into Logan as we stand in the backyard of Marshall’s estate. “I want to win this war. Bring home the sword of the Master—and stop the Counts from taking innocent souls, namely mine. We have to free those people in the tunnels, Logan. It’s hell down there.”

  “And what if we can’t?”

  “We have to. I won’t accept no for an answer.”

  “Human trafficking happens every day.” He pauses just shy of the forest and circles his arms around my waist. “It’s an evil that prospers in the face of every person with good intentions.” He picks up my hands and presses out a quiet smile. “But something tells me you won’t give up.”

  “Will you?”

  “I’m going to be right there next to you, fighting.”

  “What else are you fighting for?” I can feel it in his gaze. His desire clouds the vicinity thick with wanton pheromones—hormones that shout “take me, love me, let me be your forever.”

  “I’m fighting for you.” He steals a sweet peck of a kiss that rivals the five star meal Marshall graced us with at breakfast. Feasting on Logan’s flesh would be the richest fare, the icing on the cake of my carnal desires.

  I glance back at the house and see Marshall looming like a shadow in the window.

  “Yeah, well…” I sigh, pumping my shoulders. Nev readjusts himself, spiking his talons into my flesh in small painful bites. “You can give up because I’m pretty sure we’re not going to happen.”

  “Skyla,” he says it with a quiet laugh that suggests the thought were absurd.

  “Turns out Marshall’s frat brother is legit. Not only that, I had this vision of me having—” I stop short of letting Logan in on the future of my uterus. “Never mind.”

  “I had a vision us.” Logan pulls me in close. “That’s the future I choose to believe in.” He sways into me with a sheepish look as if he were unsure of something. “I’ve been meaning to get you and Gage together. There’s something I want to say to the both of you.”

  That condom Gage and I tore into with full intent on using blinks through my mind and I shake the thought away. Instead, I shift my focus onto a little white rabbit sitting by the table. Another one hops over with the same snowy fur. It’s a real live fairytale erupting right here on Marshall’s estate.

  “Oh look,” I say, pointing. “They’re nuzzling just like us.” I pull Logan in and rest my head over his shoulder. It’s a perfect diversion from all things Gage and condom related.

  We watch as the furry little creature comes up from behind and pounces its tiny friend.

  “Aw, he just gave her a hug,” I coo.

  The action begins. He secures her with his front paws and ruts away, wild and uninhibited before another one shows up on the scene and we’re just one hop away from the world’s fluffiest orgy.

  “Oh my gosh.” I bury my face in Logan’s chest. “That is so freaking obscene.” Logan trembles with a quiet laugh beneath me.

  “Don’t be too hard on him. He’s an animal. Procreation of the species is nothing more than a primal response.”

  “Is it?” I catch Logan’s amber gaze and hold it. There’s something carnal brewing in them.

  “It won’t be like that for us.” His voice vibrates through me like a hammer striking iron, and my cheeks fill with heat. “Although, I won’t object to an animalistic display of affection, should that be your preference.” Logan’s smile widens with the playful banter.

  “Very funny.”

  A moment skips by with our heavy gaze set on all of the sexual possibilities that the future holds for the two of us.

  I press into Logan and feel a rock hard protrusion against my thigh. I glance down and ride my eyes back up to his.

  We could always make that future now. Logan and I can give those rabbits a run for their money.

  Right here on the grass, Skyla? A dirty half-smile glides up his cheek.

  Right here, right now. I tease. I’m quoting you by the way.

  A heavy swish slices through the narrow space between us and we follow the offense to find a freshly planted arrow in the trunk of a pine.

  “Shit!” I bounce back. Nev spreads his wings wide and lets out an ear-piercing cry.

  “Time to come in.” Marshall calls with a bow dangling from his wrist.

  “If the Counts don’t kill me,” Logan says, pressing me toward the house, “Dudley will.”

  ***

  The mood in the house feels rather somber as if by some celestial benevolence they all realize Logan and I were outside contemplating open-air rutting.

  Marshall’s not so humble home has been restored masterfully since Michelle trashed it in a fit of Fem inspired delirium.

  Nevermore flies in and perches on the sofa, prompting Marshall to toss a decorative pillow in his direction.

  “Skyla.” My mother’s face shines with a rosy glow. “There’s so much to cover in such little time. I’ll allow for a short cut.” She takes up my hand and walks us swiftly over to the mirror of horror.

  “Oh no.” I back up into my father.

  “Do what she says, Skyla,” he assures. “She won’t hurt you.”

  “Easy for you to say. You didn’t witness the Miller in the mirror incident. And by the way, afterwards, she vomited a flying rat from her mouth.”

  “Don’t be a child,” my mother reprimands. “Come—Logan and Sector Marshall will accompany you.”

  “I defer to the Pretty One.” Marshall gives a quick nod.

  Nevermore cries and lands swift on my shoulder.

  “It’s not safe for you, Nev.” I try to shrug him off but he won’t go. And I won’t humor him by touching his flesh to hear him out. “Why would you want me to go in there?” I spear my mother with a look. “I know full well I’ll drag out a million clown Fems with me.”

  “Outsmart them,” she directs.

  “You mean think of puppies and kittens? Fear all things soft and cuddly?” The fornicating fur balls come to mind. Great. I’ll usher out an entire foray of horny hares. Really, the only thing I fear these days is losing Logan and Gage.

  “Precisely.” She spins me by the shoulders and forces me to look at my wincing reflection while my father stands approvingly in the background.

  “What exactly are we doing in there?” Logan comes over and slings an arm around my waist. The words Gage spoke long ago about us living to a ripe old age hardly seem to hold any truth to them. If anything, Logan and I are ripe for death.

  “More importantly, how do we get out?” I challenge my mother with a look. Her sheer beauty is intimidating. She owns the world and everything in it, and she for damn sure doesn’t fear something as trivial as death because she’s already crossed that flesh-deficient bridge.

  “The porthole will remain open for the two of you. Try to elude harm and you will emerge victors on the other side.” She says it melodic as if she were casting a spell.

  Nev gives a pinch.

  “Three,” I say, nodding into him. “Make sure the porthole stays open for the three of us.”

  “Four.” Marshall sours into the idea. He strides over to the fireplace and strips the spirit sword from over the mantle. “Let the games begin.”

  The mirror warbles, tur
ns into a pool of liquid mercury, soft and pliable as I push my fingers through.

  My father comes over and depresses a long kiss over the top of my head. Glean everything, he says.

  “I will.” I don’t wait for Logan or Marshall to go first. I simply step inside.

  The layout of the strange terrain opens up and I gasp.

  We are so very truly screwed.

  Chapter 97

  Skyla in Wonderland

  The world inside the depraved mirror is nothing more than a scorched wasteland, a soulless haunt that’s best forgotten.

  Thick clouds loom above the darkened landscape. They’ve gorged themselves on despair, stockpiled grief in pounds and are waiting to unleash their baskets full of misery.

  Marshall and Logan appear beside me along with Nevermore in his human form, tall and stately with serious features.

  Thousands of glowing eyes lay close to the ground, inspecting us.

  “What the hell are they?” I whisper afraid to move. Puppies and kittens my ass. My mother has a very dark sense of humor. Maybe when I get back, I’ll push her in the mirror for laughs.

  “Bound Fems.” Marshall erects the sword before him and lights up the night ethereal.

  “Master Oliver, mind the young lady for me,” Nevermore says, scooping up a large fallen branch as his choice of weaponry.

  A glint of light falls over the creatures and I see with clarity a den of wolves—an entire population of overgrown, mangy dogs with a rabid gleam in their eyes that suggests they just found dinner.

  Logan pulls me in and we back up slowly.

  Marshall and Nev charge the hungry pack as the beasts pounce in unison, snapping their jaws, growling a choir of hatred.

  “Let’s go,” Logan whispers as he leads us into a wooly thicket with large tree-like protrusions covered in fur, an umbrella of dirty feathers in lieu of branches.

  “No.” I resist his efforts to prod on. “We’re not leaving them.”

  Nev and Marshall slash and thrash their way into the throngs. It plays out like a cartoon with wolves flying and spinning through the air. Nev weaves their tails together, creating a matrix of miserable mutts while Marshall slices them in half with his sword—leaving the legs to move long after they’ve been disconnected. An errant beast bites him on the lip. It snaps at his face, and for a moment, I’m afraid his flesh will peel off like a mask.

  “Marshall,” I scream, trying to run into the wild pack but Logan holds me captive.

  A fireball explodes up above.

  “Shit!” I hiss as Logan leads us through the strange woods. We pass Marshall and the barking brood of disaster, as we head down a steep hillside.

  “We’ll wait here.” Logan pants, looking around, unsure of our safety.

  A scream fills the air. A shadow bruises the sky overhead. A creature appears with lantern-green eyes, a mouth of blood and teeth. It holds the body of a large demonic panther the size of a school bus.

  “Crap.” I pull Logan toward a ravine but the beast plummets to earth, panting and snapping with a horrible stench emitting from its being.

  Logan steps in front of me, presses me back with his hand and the ground starts to crackle and quake.

  “Run, Skyla.” He heaves the words in a panic.

  A howl fills the air. It sounds ominous, makes me anxious to know the fate of Nev and Marshall.

  “Get in the tree.” Logan picks me up and tosses me, through the air, into the gnarled arms of a twisted oak. I try to latch onto it before falling twenty feet down to the lowest branch. I twist and turn until I can see Logan, fighting the demon with nothing more than a makeshift club. A long crimson stain burns through his white T-shirt.

  “Damn it,” I hiss, lowering myself until my feet land on terra not so firma.

  The creature pounces on him, locks its jaws over his shoulder, and clamps down. Logan lets out a guttural cry.

  I don’t bother looking for a stick or a stone. My anger is a sharper, more accurate a weapon at this point. I jump over the throbbing creature and thrust my hands into its throat, dig my nails into the rubbery flesh until it dissolves between my fingers, reminiscent of the time I killed Holden Kragger when I thought he was a Fem.

  The beast gives a violent shudder and sends me tumbling through the air. The sky pulls away in jags as I hit the ground in a head-on collision. I struggle to open my eyes. My vision tracks in triplicate, unable to keep up with the scenery.

  I wobble to my feet and stagger backward into something soft and pliable.

  “Ms. Messenger.” Marshall purrs, out of breath.

  I snatch the sword from his hand and run toward the demon thrashing Logan around like some oversized chew toy. The sword illuminates in the night with its deadly beauty and I slash the creature, slicing a line right down its back. Its flesh bursts open like a seam, exposing a line of crimson, the white sinew of its spinal cord just below that.

  A wild moan emits, an entire coven of ebony bats bolt out of the new infliction and it collapses to the ground, deflated.

  “Logan!” I pull him free from beneath the hideous beast.

  “I’m OK,” he says, nursing his left arm.

  The creature combusts. It lights up the sky with a brilliant blaze of orange and gold, enough for me to make out the nuances of the landscape. I spot a river that leads toward a valley and a large lake just beyond that.

  The fire dies down quick as it came and the beast sputters to ashes then promptly disappears.

  “I recognize this place.” The smoke chokes out my enthusiasm.

  Nev and Marshall make their way over—Nev with some strange contraption secured to his skull.

  “What the hell is that thing on your head?” I point up to a giant ball of fur resting on him with a long tail dripping down the side.

  “Souvenir.” He tips into me, exposing the long string of tails knotted together.

  “Crafty,” I muse. “Listen—I think this is the same landscape as the ethereal plane.”

  “Well observed.” Marshall charges ahead and we follow.

  “That’s the forest we were in yesterday.” Logan points to the overgrowth adjacent to the lake. Although in this cruel landscape, its triplicate falls can hardly afford a trickle.

  “It’s the cursed version,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around Logan.

  “The regions are connected.” Marshall wades across the shallow river, inspiring us to do the same.

  “This is it,” I say, emerging on the other side next to the lake. “This is where I killed that girl.” My voice is thick with shame even though what my mother said was true. She would have gladly killed me first, then partied like it was her birthday afterward.

  Nev comes over and places his thick, strong arm around my shoulder, looks into me with his lucent eyes. His broad cheeks are filled in with the hint of a beard.

  “You did what needed to be done.” He wipes at something just shy of my ear and holds up a bloodied finger. “Don’t be afraid, Skyla. You’ve proven yourself a warrior for your people.”

  Logan points up ahead. “Gage said the orator eluded to the fact the next region lies beyond the lake.”

  “Let’s do this,” I say, gazing at the darkness that pulls out in front of us. This mirror world, this necrotic geography might just glean us enough knowledge to swing the sickle of destruction in our favor.

  We pass the thicket, and crest over a series of rocks and knotgrass up to our hips before coming up on the other side.

  “It’s in ruins.” Logan squints into the long stretch of dry ground that spreads out over miles. Old burnt-out structures, stone buildings partially collapsed, stairwells that lead to nowhere fill in the interim.

  “The goal is to reach the next region, Skyla.” Marshall pulls a pair of leather driving gloves onto his hands. “Heathcliff and I will steady the offensive.”

  No sooner do the words leave his lips than a thunder of hooves head in our direction—an entire stampede of wildebeest progress like a malevolen
t army.

  Logan pulls me close and runs us straight into the barren land. We don’t stop until we hit the base of the desolated city where buildings rise like broken promises out of the rubble. There are far more buildings here than we’ve yet to see in the ethereal plane.

  “It looks like some long-forgotten civilization had sunk into the sea, and to its misfortune, came out here on the other side,” I say as we stumble through the streets. “I think we found Atlantis and it turned into a big steaming pile of crap.”

  “Skyla?” Logan stops to take in the city view in one steady spin—his arms open with wonder. “I don’t think this is Atlantis.” He starts in on a laugh. “This is Paragon.”

  Chapter 98

  There’s Someplace like Home

  The sky presses down like a rubber tarp over the vicinity, looming and suffocating. Logan and I take in the silent scream from the petrified landscape the haunted mirror has exposed. This skeletal version of Paragon lies before us like the open grave of the future.

  “Paragon?” I take in a stale breath of fog and ash at the revelation. “Oh my God.”

  “Knew it,” he scoffs. “Soon as we hit that lake, I thought it was strange to have the same thing on the island, in the Transfer, and the ethereal plane as well. You know what that means, right?”

  “Um…” Should I know what this means? I should totally be having one of those aha moments but the aha cupboard is rather bare at the moment. “It means we just have to figure out the layout of what comes next to find the porthole into the last region?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Really?” I straighten, proud of my accidental discovery.