“Funny,” he growls at me before reverting to Coop. “Give us a hint. I guarantee it’ll take me less than five minutes to solve it, so get ready to spill all you know about Skyla as well.”
Coop’s chest thumps with a laugh. “Ezrina’s science project—she’s a beauty and a bitch—Laken’s words, not mine. She’s been suspiciously M.I.A., and considering she’s been a thorn in my wife’s side as far back as Ephemeral—” he looks to us as he drops off the granddaddy hint of them all, and both Logan and I tip our heads back and groan.
“Kresley Fisher.” Logan grunts. “But why the big show in the blue tank? Ezrina had to kill Kresley to put her in that thing.”
Coop ticks his head back. “Something went wrong during the facial reconstruction. Kresley’s heart stopped. Ezrina said it was a nightmare. But it’s done.”
Logan raises his brows. “Makes sense. Now catch us up on what we really want to know.”
“Wait.” I pinch my eyes shut and try to derail the headache Ellis is sponsoring. “I’m out. I don’t want to know.” I take off and get lost in the crowd. As much as I want to glean every intimate detail I can about the covenant Skyla has with Chloe, I want all of the information I get to be from Skyla herself. And I want her to give it willingly. Our marriage means more to me than some seemingly vital gossip. Besides, as long as Logan is aware of the fact, that’s as good as me being in on it. At least for now. Logan and I are of one mind when it comes to my wife. If she’s in imminent danger, he’ll know what to do. I’ll find rest in that for now.
A beefed-up dude with a T-shirt that looks ten sizes too small, a drink in both hands, shuffles his way up. I know him. He’s been at all the Viden meet and greets. It’s Zander Richards, Emily’s cousin on her father’s side. His little brothers volunteered in Wesley’s nightmare and are off haunting the globe somewhere looking for human flesh to consume because Wes has killed them for sport and turned them into a bunch of staggering Spectators. They’re still keeping the news feed going, but, for whatever reason, Wes hasn’t thrown them to the wolves. The Spectators are the Bigfoot of our generation. If the feds start snapping them up, it will take the heat off the Nephilim. Is that what Wes wants? It seems counterintuitive to his overall plan of taking down those who chose not to side with the Barricade. It’s all a bad plan if you ask me. And that, right there, is the alarming thing about my brother. He is rife with bad ideas and quick to initiate them. Thus, turning Kresley into Laken. But if the rumor is true and he’s been fucking her sideways in the Transfer as Chloe suggests, I can’t say Kres regrets her decision. It doesn’t make sense, though. He had Chloe morphing into Laken’s likeness whenever he wanted. Something is up. And, knowing my brother, we’ll all hear about it sooner than later.
Zander shoves his huge mitt into my chest and sends me staggering backward. His drinks go flying, and the crowd gasps around us. “You’re a little fucker, you know that?”
“Hey”—Wes pops up from out of nowhere and barks in his face—“what the hell’s your problem, man? Why don’t you take off? You smell like you’re soaked in vodka.”
“I’m soaked, all right.” He blows past Wes and gets in my face again. “What’s the matter, little man? You need your big bro to fight your battles for you? Wait a second”—a greasy grin lights up his face—“I almost forgot. Your wife wears the balls in the family.”
“That’s it.” I scoop him up by the shirt and drive him to the wall, landing him against it so hard a crack snakes right to the ceiling. “I get it. You’re worried about your family. But what you don’t get is the fact I didn’t put them in that predicament. They did it to themselves,” I riot in his face just as the music hits a lull and the crowd stills around us.
Zander grabs me by the shirt and twists me into the wall, making that fissure I’ve just erupted in Harrison’s home run a little deeper. “My brothers had no choice. Maybe if you knew your own brother as well as I know mine, you would have known that, too.”
He takes off, and I spot Emily chasing after him.
“Damn idiot.” Wes pulls me from the wall and for a moment I’m not sure if he’s talking about Zander or me. “Each and every volunteer came of his own volition. I would be remiss to force anyone’s hand. I follow the same rules as your wife.” He glances back at her. “Only I know when and where they will bite me in the ass.” He takes off for the door and doesn’t look back.
“Nice.” Logan dusts the drywall off my shoulder as Liam comes up beside him.
“The two of you are really racking up the construction jobs for me. At this rate, I’ll be able to retire before I ever begin.”
Drake and Bree pop up, looking deliriously happy and least of all concerned over the newly formed hole in the wall behind me.
Brielle hops up and latches her arms around my neck. “There’s nothing hotter than Gage Oliver beating the shit out of some guy at your bachelorette party!” she howls in my face, and I smell the liquor emanating off her. Skyla and Chloe show up, and my stomach turns seeing them within fighting distance.
“You’d better back off, Bree.” Skyla plucks her off and quickly takes her place. “He’s all mine, girls.” She gives Chloe a sly wink, and Chloe flips her the bird.
“You bore me, Messenger.” Chloe takes up Logan’s hand and starts to lead him toward the crowd losing it to the music. “Let’s show ’em how it’s done.” And shockingly—perhaps not shockingly, Logan goes right along with her. I know him. He’ll keep his enemy close enough to get what he needs out of them. Theoretically, Skyla might be doing the very same thing, but this is Chloe. It will never work the way it’s supposed to.
Lex trots up, red-faced and panting. “Is that Bishop wiping her paws on my man?”
Skyla grunts out a laugh. “I never thought I’d say this, Lex, but go get what’s yours.”
Lex takes off, and I spot the three of them in what looks like a dance-off.
“I’ve already got what’s mine,” Skyla whispers hot into my ear, and my dick perks to life. “Now what’s this I hear about us moving to Emma’s?”
“What?” Bree is the first to protest. “Hell no, you can’t go.” She wraps an arm around Skyla, tight. “This girl right here is staying with me.”
“Good news travels fast.” I’d laugh, but it shouldn’t surprise me that it’s true. “Logan and Liam are going to help me get the house in order. We’ll be in our own home before you know it.”
Her eyes linger over mine a moment too long. “And your mom’s house is closer.” She sounds as if she’s trying to talk herself into it.
Bree lifts her top and flashes the two of us, snapping us right out of that danger zone my mother seems to throw us in each and every time. “How do you like my boobs?”
“Shit.” I close my eyes, trying to get the image of her huge nipples out of my head. Over the years, I’ve seen more of Brielle Johnson’s body than I care to admit. Mostly that has to do with the fact I was the one who delivered Beau into this world—in a parking lot, behind a hotel on prom night. It was one event—and one exaggeratingly large vagina I will never forget.
“They’re new. I had them lifted. Drake says he likes the size, but I might go bigger.”
“No,” Skyla scolds. “They’re prefect. Cute and perky just like you.”
“Hear that?” Bree drips over Drake and nearly takes him down in the process. “Skyla likes my boobies just the way they are! But don’t you worry. I’m still committed to taking the best care of myself for the rest of my life.” She winks Skyla’s way. “We girls need to keep it hot—in and out of the covers.”
“Dude”—Drake pulls back and examines his bride—“I don’t care what you look like when we’re going at it. I think of other chicks anyway.”
Bree squeals with laughter as they head off toward the crowd.
“And who says romance is dead?” I steal a kiss from my own bride, and we share a quick laugh. “Coop let me in on who’s down in the Transfer with Wes.”
“Oh my God!�
� She bounces on her toes. “The Laken knockoff?”
I give a slight nod. “He gave us a hint; she’s a thorn in Laken’s side, and I could easily say the same for you. We haven’t seen her in months.”
Her mouth opens wide. “Kresley? That dumb, dumb bitch.” She closes her eyes as if she’s actually sorry for her. “I hate to say it, but she’s really put herself in danger.”
“Why? Did Chloe tell you something new?”
She gives a slight nod of her own. “Wes has a dick the size of a telephone pole.”
“Skyla.” I tip my head back and groan.
“Kidding!” She plants a kiss on my lips and slips her tongue into my mouth playfully. “You’re the only one with a dick wildly out of proportion around here.”
“As it should be.” I give a self-satisfied smile. Skyla and I are back to normal, and this is how I like it. No tension, no grief from any of our mothers, just the two of us messing around like a couple of teenagers. “Coop also knows what you and Chloe are up to.” She winces as I wrap my arms around her. “He offered to tell me, but I thought I’d get my info from the source. Does the source feel like coughing up info anytime soon?” The smile drops off my face because there are some things I can’t fake around Skyla, and how I feel is one of them.
Skyla opens her mouth, her gaze still locked onto mine, and a thumping sound emits over the speakers. A series of spotlights circle the ceiling before slowly migrating to the back of the grand room where a mock stage is set up. Everyone in the vicinity turns their attention in that direction as the music picks up to a sultry beat.
Brielle charges at us. “Get over here!” She snatches Skyla by the wrist, and they take off through the crowd in search of front row seats. I spot Logan and Coop and head in their direction.
“You tell him everything you know?” I offer Coop a playful shove, even though we’re well aware I’m serious as shit.
“I heard enough.” Logan crosses his arms as an army of scantily dressed elderly women dance into the room. The blonde snaps up Drake, lands his face in her cleavage, and the crowd gives an approving cheer. An equally scantily dressed group of men slip in behind the girls, and the beefiest of the bunch pulls Skyla up on stage with him. These dudes are young, and buff, and both of those facts have me glaring at the one currently holding my wife hostage.
“Figures.” Logan leans in. “Bree fed her to the wolves.”
Coop’s chest thumps with a quiet laugh. “She should get used to it. Chloe’s about to do the same thing.”
And just like that, my anger flares up. I’m so sick of Logan and Coop and their self-righteous put-downs of the woman I love.
“That’s my wife, and I support her,” I say it out loud at completely the wrong time.
The beefed-up dude takes Skyla’s hand and helps himself to a nice massage right over that massive hump in the crotch of his loincloth. It takes her less than five seconds to free herself and hop off the stage.
Logan looks to me. “Sometimes people make her do things she doesn’t want to do.”
Coop nods along. “That’s Chloe in a nutshell. Just wait. You’ll see we’re right.”
I glance back up to find Brielle riding on the back of one of the entertainers, spanking his behind as if he were a donkey.
Skyla comes up and wraps her arms around me, breathless with a laugh trapped behind her smile. “I’m going to step out for a bit. Watch this guy for me, would you?” She charges Logan with the task before offering a nice juicy kiss to my lips. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t leave without me.” She pulls back, and any enthusiasm she had on her face dissipates. “Chloe is just a cockroach on a leash, Gage,” she whispers, the sound of heartbreak in her voice hangs heavy. “That’s it in a nutshell, I promise.” She gives another peck before taking off.
“That about sums it up,” Logan offers. “But we both know the devil is in the details.”
Coop nods in agreement. “And Chloe and Wes are two devils who thrive on every last detail.”
And just like that, Skyla has become a detail in the lives of Chloe and Wes.
Things couldn’t fall to shit any faster if they tried.
Things fall to shit faster than anyone thought possible. Within a week, the feds have sopped up every last of the resurrected dead like wine with a loaf of bread, savoring every last delicious morsel. The last of which being the most bittersweet. Casey was captured at the library while strolling through the young adult section.
Logan and I sulk over the fact as we wait for the rest of the Videns to arrive. I’ve dragged him down here with me, to the nocturnal, petrified underbelly of the island—or at least it is in theory. It is my very own realm, where I sit on a crooked throne of lies pretending to know what the hell is going on at any given time.
Wes and Demetri come up, with Wes looking his usual irritated self, and Demetri unmoved by my decision to have a visitor.
“What’s this?” Wes barks, affronted as if I pulled down my pants and took a shit on his shoes.
“He’s with me,” I say it bored, certain that he has no power to undermine me. “What’s on the agenda?” I look to my father and those dark laughing eyes.
“The Videns have expressed a dissatisfaction with the handling of the Spectators. They want a reversal of fortune for their loved ones who sacrificed much in the endeavor.” He looks to Wes and nods.
“No.” Wes is quick to hack our father’s dick off, and I don’t really mind all that much. “They’re mine. I need them to stay put.” He glares at me a moment. “You were right. Skyla has managed to satiate the feds. They’ve taken over the back side of Raven’s Eye and set up camp. So there you go. Skyla thinks she’s trumped me as easily as that.”
“Raven’s Eye,” I whisper. “Of course, the island has belonged to the navy for as long as I can remember. That’s probably been their base all along.” Raven’s Eye sits west of Host. My father took Logan and me out there once when we were kids while he retrieved a body for the morgue. It’s a flatland of black rocks, looks more like a dried-up lava bed than anything remotely resembling Paragon, but it’s not without its evergreen crown.
Logan nods my way. “And now we know exactly where they are.” I can see the relief in his eyes. Casey has grown on us all like a little sister. It’s hard knowing she’s out there. And the rest of them, too. They were great people. Still are. All of them were once dead with the exception of—
“Melody Winters,” Demetri cuts me off at the pass and only reinforces the fact he can hear my thoughts down here. Hell, he can hear them everywhere. “She’s a transplant from another generation. A traveler, if you will.”
“Melody?” Logan looks to me and shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure she’s been on the island—born and bred. You mean she’s one of us?” Logan asks Demetri as if the demon might actually respond in kind. We’ve already surmised as much per my father’s—real father’s, catalog.
“Indeed. A rebellious heart. An even split between Celestra and Countenance. The worst of all combinations if you ask me. And you did ask me.” He takes a moment to smile and gleam a greasy grin his way. “You know what they say, ask and you shall receive.” He takes off and mingles with the older Videns standing around by the fountain of fire, a special effect provided by none other than Demetri himself.
Wes leans in with that easy grin of his gliding across his face. “You know what I’m going to ask for?”
“What?” I’m mildly amused.
“Nothing. I’m going to take it all myself.” He takes off for the crowd, leaving Logan and me alone, the way I like it.
“You know what I’m going to ask for?” I can feel my dimples digging in as I hold back a laugh.
“Another three feet added to your dick?” He shrugs it off. “Lex and Chloe were talking about it last night.”
“No,” I flatline, unamused. “I’m going to ask you to head to Raven’s Eye. I want to know what the feds are doing. I want to know what our people aren’t being subjected to—and
the dead are.” My lips twitch because a part of me doesn’t want to say what comes next. “Is Skyla safe? With Chloe?” I’m the only one officially in the dark.
“As safe as she could ever be with Chloe Bishop. Is Chloe safe?”
We share a quick laugh as Demetri calls the meeting to order.
“Hey”—Logan leans in—“how are these in comparison to the Faction meetings?”
“Let’s just say they can be a bit more spirited.”
I take a seat on my throne, and Logan sits on a stone next to me as we look down at the throngs of men around us along with a few disgruntled women peppered throughout, Emily Morgan being one of them.
“Where the hell are our people?” she shouts from the back, and I’m momentarily stunned. Out of everyone here, Emily has unobstructed access to me anytime she wishes. What the hell?
“They’re safe,” I offer. “Wesley has them on assignment.” Bullshit answer number one.
Wes rears his head as if I had roused him from his sleep. “They’re not coming home.”
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. If he were closer, I’d kick him in the nuts.
Wes stands on a boulder to my left, erecting himself a full six feet above me. “Your loved ones are mine. They are to be utilized, disposed of in any manner that I desire because they gave me that honor.” The crowd ignites to unsafe levels of disgruntled cries, threats of bodily harm to both Wes and me.
Logan shoots me a look. “Just a bit more spirited.” He nods to the crowd. “They even come bearing gifts.”
I follow his gaze to a man with a noose in his hands, and my stomach sinks.
The Videns are pissed. They are hungry for blood. Tonight, they exude a fiery rage, and Wes just doused the place with gasoline.
Wesley turns to me, his eyes as dead as his soul. “Ezrina says she can’t guarantee a conversion. A sacrifice has been made. The people will simply have to live with it.” He takes off and evaporates as he hits the jasper wall behind me.
Logan and I stand as the crowd begins to riot amongst themselves.
Crown of Ashes Page 50
