“Good grief.” She grunts as if the idea made her physically ill.
“I will love October Edinger as if she were my own.” Because I have to. The only thing more dangerous than your enemy is your enemy’s child.
Chloe belts out a bubbling laugh. “Yes, Messenger. Have at her. She can swing off your tits all day while she suckles away. I don’t give a flying rip. Hell, you can let Wes swing off the other nipple. I couldn’t care less about the wandering idiot.”
“Perfect.” I give a little curtsey. “And just to be clear, my husband is off-limits to you. Gage Oliver is mine. He is the crown of life I wear on my head, our children the jewels of God pressed into the center. My family is sacred, an unapproachable throne that you may never touch.”
“We’ve covered this.” Her features harden as if her patience were wearing thin. “And I’ve already agreed.”
“Wonderful. To our newfound partnership. Here’s to the preservation and prosperity of our people.”
My mother offers up a dull applause. “Great. Now let’s move on with our day.” She turns as if to hop off the stone, and I pull her back by the silk sleeve of her winter white robe.
“Whoa, so that’s it? You’re not going to say a few words? No thunder—no ring of lightning?”
She rolls her eyes as she looks to Chloe. “That’s our Skyla, always a flair for the dramatic.” I’m not liking my mother and Chloe unified on anything, least of all not when it comes to bashing me so openly.
Chloe gives a sly smile. “But then, we’ve always thought so, haven’t we?”
My radar sounds its internal alarm. Red fucking alert.
“That’s right.” My mother chortles. “We have, haven’t we?”
Chloe and my mother have been spending time together? Discussing me of all people? Holy hell. Why do I suddenly feel masterfully manipulated? At this point, I have no clue who is more dangerous between the two of them.
My mother’s hands fall over each of our foreheads once again. “Skyla and Chloe, you are now true sisters in every way. May it be as you have committed, all of your sentiments binding on earth as it is in heaven.” She offers an exasperated sigh. “How’s that for a few words?”
Just as I’m about to open my mouth, a horrible crackle of thunder deafens us as a nest of lightning, purple and white, dazzles from up above. A coven of bats flies to the sky, screaming as the thunder roars over Tenebrous, and the earth begins to shake. Then just as quick as it came, it dissipates, back to the calm, the disturbingly eerie silence that Tenebrous has to offer.
A mirror appears on the stone, full-length, encased in an intricate gold frame, and I immediately recognize it as a twin to the haunted speculum in Marshall’s home.
“Find the features you like best.” My mother nods to Chloe as she leads me off the stone and near the blackened woods.
“Anything else I can do for you, my love?” Her eyes settle over mine, harsh like a punishment, as she doesn’t bother to disguise the sarcasm in her voice.
“I don’t want the dead to suffer.” Casey and the countless number of the dead that were resurrected come to mind. “No lingering deaths. I need this to move fast. I can feel Wesley nipping at my heels. The government is everywhere. They are hungry. They want retribution for those agents that were killed. We need to feed the federal beast before Wes hands my people over in droves.”
“I agree. Don’t waste any time. Act quickly to ensure the dead are captured. That number should satisfy them and stretch their facilities to capacity. A mass death would look horrible for the institution, and if you find the right group to protest government testing on these visitors, you might stall their efforts to harm your people for decades to come.” She gives a self-satisfied smile. “As for the manner in which their lives are extinguished—you should have thought that through before you deployed them,” she hisses, her eyes slit with fury as she looks to Chloe. “You should have thought a lot of things through. You gave her everything she already has along with the keys to the kingdom.”
“Yes. But now she has to answer to me. I have the keys. If Chloe wants to take the car for a spin, she needs to hotwire it.” I scowl over at the demon while she preens at her own reflection. “If you can’t kill a cockroach, put the damn thing on a leash and make it your pet.”
“Is that what you’re doing with Gage?”
“Mother!” I stagger back a moment. “Your disdain for the love of my life never fails to freshly offend me. He is the father of my children.”
She smacks her lips with boredom. “Is that all it takes to garner your devotion—children?”
“I’m ready!” Chloe calls from the stone, and both my mother and I gasp at the sight of her. Chloe has always been a stunner, but this newly polished, perfectly sublime version is a tour de force of beauty. Her long dark hair is thicker, glossier with just the right amount of waves to give it life and a body of its own. But it’s her face that captivates. Yes, she is still very much herself, identifiable in every way, but you can tell by those almond eyes, the straight nose, those cheeks that touch heaven, and those knockoff Betty Boop lips that Chloe Bishop will have both the living and the dead turning heads just to steal a glance.
“Wow, Chloe”—I can’t help but gawk at the gorgeous sight—“if your husband could see you now.”
My mother scoffs. “What is this obsession you have with husbands, Skyla?” Her chest bucks as she says the word husbands as if she were about to hurl at the concept. “They’re mere men, Skyla. Not to mention the fact they require so much attention.”
Chloe grunts as if she could relate. “Feed me. Fuck me.”
A round of lightning flickers from above at the mention of an expletive in my mother’s presence. “Nevertheless”—she shrugs as if Chloe were right—“they are slaves to the flesh.”
Chloe bounces up beside her. “There is no greater truth. It’s as if all they ever think about is filling an orifice—theirs, ours, it matters not. Never mind the horny pigs.” She pats her hair down while preening to my mother. “How did I do?”
“Well done.” My mother lifts a hand, and the speculum evaporates to nothing. “Now before I go”—she turns to the woods—“please join us, Sage. Your time has come.”
“Sage? My God”— my entire person swoons with delight—“will I get my daughter back?”
“Technically speaking, you most certainly will.” My mother curls her fingers until Sage steps out of the shadows, her tiny frame, her long dark hair, those deep-welled dimples are an exact representation of her father, albeit at about five-years-old. But it’s not Sage that has my attention for once. In her tiny arms is an equally adorable being, a baby—perhaps just a little older than the twins, blonde curly hair, eyes that glow large and bright a unique shade—the lightest aquamarine you have ever seen with lashes that look gloriously thick and rich. She’s wrapped in a thin pink robe, same gold sash as my mother and Sage, albeit miniature, and therefore, outlandishly adorable. I’ve never seen a baby girl so preciously stunning, with the exception of Sage, of course, and, in truth, I’ve never seen Sage at that age or stage.
“Who is this visitor?” I step forward, and Chloe joins us as we lean in and gawk at her tiny perfect glory.
Sage picks up the baby’s chunky foot, clamps her teeth hard over its tiny little toes, and the baby lets out an ear-piercing cry.
“Sage!” I bat her hand away, and the baby manages to pluck her pink little foot free, her large eyes watery with tears, her perfect bow tie lips tugging down at the sides. The baby reaches for me, and I lean in to take her, but Sage is quick to twist her from my grasp.
Sage growls at both Chloe and me. “She likes it when I do that.” She stuffs the tiny foot into her mouth again and gives another violent chomp.
“She does not!” I’m quick to snatch the screaming child away, and in a moment, a calm like never before falls over me. It’s as if I’ve waited my entire life to hold this precious little being.
“Ma Ma!” The t
iny blonde beauty squirms as a smile comes to her ruby lips and she laughs and claps, and I can’t help but laugh along with her. Rows of tiny teeth are exposed, just a few here and there, but they shine like pearly seeds.
“She just called me Ma Ma!” I marvel at the tiny chubby cheeked angel. There’s something startlingly familiar about her—and strangely enough, intimately and deeply, I love her as if she were my own. “She’s a doll. Who is she?” I glance to my mother who glows with an ethereal light as if she had suddenly swallowed the sun. She’s grinning from ear-to-ear, and suddenly I’m worried for everyone in Tenebrous. “Mother? I demand an answer.”
“Come, child.” My mother takes up Sage by the hand before reverting her attention to me. “You said all it would take to garner your devotion of a man is to have his child.” Her eyes brighten a dazzling shade of sunshine as if she could no longer contain her joy. “And now you have it—her as it were. I’ve gone to the future and procured you a little pink gift.”
My heart ratchets up into my throat because I’m afraid I know exactly who this little angel is. This child belongs to Logan—and me. “Why are you doing this?”
“So you’ll fall in love with her—and you have, instantly. So you’ll forget all about that Gage and let him sink to the bottom of the sea.”
That Gage?
“I’m not letting Gage sink to the bottom of some heartless sea.”
“You’re not exactly giving her back to me either.” She steps in close, but I can’t take my eyes off this magical being, so beautiful and bright. “Perhaps you should keep her a while. Would you like to know her name?”
“No!” She can’t have a name. She can’t exist. My heart breaks because everything in me wants to keep her. I would never want to blink her out of existence. Logan and I can have an affair—a brief, brief affair. Dear God, what am I saying?
“What are you saying, indeed?” My mother glares at me after having the audacity to listen in on my private thoughts. “You realize how the Master feels about adultery.”
“And you realize how He feels about divorce.”
“That won’t be an issue. Give my love to Logan.” She lifts a hand, and a spray of miniature stars ensconces both her and Sage as they dissipate to nothing.
Sage glares at me as she evaporates to nothing. The weight of her disdain for me sends a violent shiver through me. It’s as if I were her enemy. She sneers at my mother. “She loves her more than me! I hate that little pink pig.”
“No!” I wail with the perfect tiny being cooing up at me with a smile. “I can’t have another baby. Tad is going to kill me.”
Chloe steps in and ogles the tiny babe in my arms. “Oh my shit, Messenger. This is your kid—and Logan Oliver is the father. My, my, don’t you have the happy little ovaries. I’m sure Gage will be thrilled. In fact, I don’t think Tad will be the only one who’ll entertain a homicide.” She scowls as if I’ve really screwed up this time, and I might have. “Now get me island side. There’s an entire bitchy little clique of dead girls I would relish to turn in by evening. I won’t let you down, Messenger. Just you wait and see. Together we will conquer the world.”
“It’s not the world I want.” The sweet little angel in my arms pulls my hair and squeals with delight, melting my soul and my heart in the process. Oh my God, I am in love, swimming so deep and wide I never want to get out of the angelic waters. And giving her back to my mother is the last thing I want to do. “I just want my people to be safe—my marriage to work.”
“You’re on your own with Gage.” That darkness in Chloe’s eyes returns as she sinks her gaze into mine. “For now.”
I take up Chloe’s hand as Tenebrous is traded for the woods behind Marshall’s estate.
I know what Chloe meant. It wasn’t the blatant threat I would have once assumed it to be. It was in reference to Demetri, to his constant pull on my husband. I’ve got news for that Fem rat. In this tug-of-war for Gage Oliver’s soul, I win. Hands down. All fucking day long.
The baby in my arms chortles as if agreeing with me, and she warms my heart all over again.
The woods reappear with each evergreen a shade more vibrant than the next. Even the monotone hues of Paragon are a welcome sight in comparison to Tenebrous.
Chloe staggers a moment as do I, weighted with the tiny blonde bundle of joy who happily squirms before knitting her fingers in my hair.
“Ma Ma!” she cries, jubilant and loud, and my stomach tangles in knots.
“You have fun with that.” Chloe smirks at the baby. “I’ll text you and let you know how many I trap. I can spot the G-men a mile away, so obvious with their sunglasses and pressed collared shirts.” She plucks a tube of lipstick from her pocket and applies the bright red caustic hue. “If they’re lucky, I might even fuck them.” The baby in my arm flinches at the expletive. “Aww.” Chloe leans in, and the baby retracts, burying her face in my neck, and it feels like heaven. “She’s just as sensitive as her ma. I’ll catch up with you later, sis. I want to hear all about the fireworks. I’m guessing poor Gage won’t be so enthused to find out he’s an uncle.” She takes off for the street and holds up her middle finger. “Relax, it’s in love.”
“In love, my foot. Speaking of which.” I pull up the babe’s tiny chunky toes and rub my thumb over the impression of Sage’s teeth. The baby looks up at me and blinks into her own innocence, so heartbreakingly precious, so startlingly beautiful, my heart comes to a complete stop. Tears come to my eyes. Here she is, the sweet angel Logan and I would have made with all of our love. I see him there in the bridge of her nose, the shape of her lips. She has his strong jaw and four little teeth, top and bottom, and I can’t help but note her gums look swollen.
“Ma Ma!” She smacks me in the chest and picks up the protective hedge and shoves the pendant right into her mouth. She spits it out and goes for the mirrored heart that Logan—her father, gave me instead and suckles on it as if it had the power to soothe her. She lays her tiny body against mine, solid and warm, her heart beating erratic against mine and lets out a ragged sigh.
“Oh my dear God, I love you. I do.” I pepper the top of her head with kisses. “But how is this ever going to work?” I glare at the blank gray sky with a brewing anger. “This is not funny, Mother. You seriously lack a proper sense of humor.”
A bout of girlish laughter comes from my left, down by the ravine, and I hesitate a moment before wandering over. The laughter ensues, and before long it’s joined by the growl of a man. He’s saying something to her, and their murmurs grow increasingly sexual in nature along with those hearty, heady, I need you right now groans of passion.
The baby falls into a perfect slumber over my chest as I hide behind a tree. Who the hell would be hiding on Marshall’s property? Randy no less? Oh my God. What if Marshall is getting it on with one of his seventeenth-century hussies instead of watching the boys? The thought alone sends me charging out of my hiding place and straight into—
“Mia?”
Standing before me is a rumple haired, rumple clothed Mia and that rat Gabriel Armistead with his pants unzipped, his junk hanging from his boxers.
“Oh my God!” I howl and spin as if I just had my eye poked out. “Mia!” I shout so loud the baby jerks and screams without warning. “Oh no!” I’m quick to jostle her, but her cries only intensify.
The boy strides past me as if nothing ever happened, and Mia hops in front of me, red-faced and pissed.
“What the hell has gotten into you?” She pokes me hard in the chest, her own shirt still unbuttoned, exposing a black lace bra, and, well, a rather nice set of boobs. Not really fair since I had to have twins to achieve that look myself. When did Mia get tits, and why the hell do they look better than mine?
“Me? What’s gotten into you? That’s not even your boyfriend.”
“He is on Fridays!” she riots back.
I blink into this younger, far more fragile-minded version of me. “Of course, how stupid of me.” The baby claws at my che
st. I help her find the mirrored heart, and she’s right back to suckling on it, her heated flesh has the robe melting to her skin like wet paper. “What is this Friday business?” I shake my head violently. “Never mind. I don’t think I want to know. Whatever it is, knock it off. You just can’t have two men in your life, Mia. That would make you—”
“Just like you.” Her brows rise as she gets that smart-aleck look on her face. Then just like that, her focus shifts to the babe in my arms, and her affect melts on cue. “Oh my God. Who is this princess, and can I keep her?”
My heart breaks into a million pieces because I don’t have it in me to lie to Mia. We’re supposed to be growing closer, not dividing ourselves with a chasm of lies and part-time boyfriends.
“This is your niece.” My voice breaks as the tears start to flow. “She’s my”—my entire existence shakes to the core—“my daughter.” I give a rambling explanation of what just happened, and Mia wraps her arms around me long and hard.
“Oh, Skyla. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.” She pulls back, her own eyes red with tears. “I promise I won’t tell.” She picks up the little angel’s hand and brings it to her lips. The baby does a jumping jack filled with joy and gives a hearty laugh as she plays with Mia’s lips. “She’s so happy.” She shakes her head. “Skyla, I know you love Gage, but maybe you can just skip that whole baby making part and keep her? I don’t think I could bear to lose her. Plus, I want you to have a girl so I can buy all those cute dresses. And if she stays, you can make all of my pink dreams come true.”
“I’m afraid not. I’m guessing she’s on loan.” My heart wrenches just thinking about it. “Look, Marshall has the boys. If I give you the keys to the minivan, would you take them to Emma’s? I’m sure she’ll watch them for me. I don’t have a car seat for the baby, and to be honest, I’m not ready to juggle three just yet.”
“What are you going to do?”
Crown of Ashes Page 46
