“You make a decision, and you live with it,” Logan offers as if it were sage advice. “That’s what happened to me.”
“It’s what happens to all of us.” But how the hell do you explain that to a bunch of rabid, grieving relatives who want their boys back?
Nathan and Barron come to mind, and my heart is overcome with grief right along with the rest of the Videns. I get it.
I hold out a hand, and the crowd begins to still. Slowly, the eruptions of hatred grind to a halt.
“I cannot imagine your pain—but I can make it better.” I meet with the eyes of those near madness at what’s become of their loved ones. “I will do everything I can to bring your boys home safe.” I look right into Emily’s piercing stare. “I promise.”
A month crawls by. Skyla and I lasted one night at my parents’ house. One fucking night before my mother started an inquisition as to why Angel is still with us, and Skyla couldn’t handle the heat. Truthfully, neither could I. In fact, in the short month and a half we’ve had her, she feels every bit ours as much as the boys do. And I love her just as much. It’s shocking to me on some level, and yet completely understandable. I love Logan, and, of course, I love Skyla. How could I not love flesh from their flesh? Not to mention the fact Angel has an infectious laugh, and an infectious smile, and has started calling both Logan and me Da Da. And just as precious as that, she’s trained the boys to do the same. Skyla is still waiting for them to call her anything, but right now I’m honored to share that title with Logan. Deep down, I know it’s a title we’ll share in my boys’ life as long as we’re alive.
But those dark dreams I’ve had of late keep coming, fast and furious. Water turns to wine. Wine turns to blood. I find myself drowning in a pool of red, the sky inverting as if it had the power to unzip itself as I float into the great unknown.
I startle back to life as I blink out at the glistening waves off Silent Cove. The weather is lousy for this Fourth of July. If fireworks ensue later, we won’t be able to see them. This summer is a strange one for far more reasons than Paragon’s ubiquitous fog. Even Demetri opted out of his great summer bash, in which he lures the sun to come out and play. He’s been angry, barking at both Wes and me for whatever reason he can find. He’s suggested Wesley’s little FU to the Videns is causing him problems in the heavenlies—something about the Fem infrastructure crumbling like a house of cards. It’s comforting to know in a world where I can’t control a damn thing that even Demetri in all his demented glory has the very same problem. Somehow it makes my world a little less shaky knowing the ground is just as wobbly under everyone else’s feet.
Logan’s backyard—for lack of a better word, is festooned with wisteria filled archways and sprays of flowers just about everywhere you look. If Laken had an elegant floral line leading to the sea, then Bree has outdone her by a perennial blooming mile. It looks as if a florist filled up a truck and dumped its contents wherever the hell it wanted. This is the disarray to Laken’s organization. The chaos to Laken’s calm. The gaudy to Laken’s elegant charm. And that is Bree in a nutshell.
Since Skyla was barefoot at last year’s event, Bree has insisted that all of her bridesmaids show up sans footwear, which is fine since most of the big event takes place on sand. But Bree might have overlooked the fact that Skyla was pregnant last year with her ankles swollen and hidden under waterlogged flesh. Skyla might be back in shape just one year later, but that didn’t stop Bree from outfitting each girl in her wedding party with a maternity gown that resembles the one Skyla wore last year, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear Skyla is wearing the exact same one. She’s cinched it off with a belt, but it still doesn’t do her body justice. The ceremony goes off without a hitch. Nathan and Barron are held by Mia and Melissa and don’t make a peep during the ceremony. Angel is safe in Laken’s arms. And even Wes is here with his dark-haired beauty, Tobie. I can’t help but smile when I see her. I’m sure Sage would have looked just as beautiful.
“This is some party!” Lizbeth squeals as she and Tad waddle by, each with a child attached to their knee. Beau has just turned three, and both Ember and Misty, two. Life seems to be moving at a breakneck speed. Giselle just graduated from West, although she didn’t walk. She still has a few summer courses she needs to complete before it’s official. It’s hard to believe despite all of the wickedness in this world life just stubbornly barrels on.
Lizbeth can hardly catch her breath. “This is such a magical night! It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Drake and Brielle expanded their family by one in just nine short months!”
Tad lets out a garbled cry. “Why’d you have to go and curse a perfectly good evening? There’s all the free seafood we can eat, Lizbeth. Couldn’t you focus on that?”
“Children are a blessing, not a curse.”
“Speak for yourself. The only thing around here that’s a blessing is the fact I get to take home all the leftovers.” He smacks me over the arm. “That’s right Gregory. All the crustaceans we can eat for the next solid month. Nothing but the best for my son.” He gives a wistful shake of the head as if he actually paid for it.
“Speaking of sons—” Lizbeth gets that devious gleam in her eyes that has me searching the crowd for Skyla. “You have two very handsome boys who will be turning one in a matter of months. You must let me plan their party.”
“I’m afraid that’s Skyla’s department.” And mine, but I leave myself out of it for now.
“I won’t take no for an answer.” She rambles on and on, but something in the woods behind Logan’s home has stolen my attention. A dark mist, deep purple in color, slowly morphs into the shape of a very tall man before dissipating into a blanket of mystery. It morphs back into the shape of a man, tall and stately, and if it had eyes, I would bet my life he was looking right at me. He walks down to the shoreline, wading in ankle deep, before turning around and waving for me to join him. A chill runs through my body as I reposition myself so I don’t have to look at him.
Demetri shows up with baby Tobie in his arms, and I feel sorry for the poor thing, so I do the only thing I can. I take her from him and politely excuse myself while Lizbeth gloms onto him, her mouth still going a mile a minute about the boys’ first birthday party.
I head over to Skyla and Logan. He’s holding Angel, rocking her on his hip, and from the looks on their faces, I’ve interrupted a heated exchange. Skyla pauses to glare at him, a look I’m sure he’s unfamiliar with.
“What’s up?”
“Oh my God.” Skyla melts at the sight of Tobie. “Speaking of angels.” She takes the baby from me. “How are you?” She bounces her finger off her tiny nose, and Tobie kicks her chubby little limbs and squeals with delight. “Where is your daddy?” Skyla’s voice breaks. “It kills me that Chloe won’t step up to the plate.” She rests her cheek over Tobie’s dark curls. “Every child deserves a mother.”
Tobie looks up and pats Skyla over the cheek. Their eyes lock over one another as if in that moment a bond had formed. Skyla threw out the maternal invite, and Tobie accepted.
Angel stretches over to her. “Ma Ma.” She grabs a handful of Tobie’s dark hair and yanks her head back with a violent thrust.
“Angel!” Skyla turns Tobie away as she screams bloody murder. “I’m so sorry. It’ll be okay!” Skyla does her best to soothe her just as Wes shows up. Tobie stretches out her arms and screams Daddy through her tears, and it reduces me to cinders. At the end of the day, Wesley is a good father. I don’t think anyone, not even my wife, his enemy, would contest it.
The music starts up, and the makeshift dance floor Logan had constructed down by the shore fills in with Drake and Bree leading the way. The music is slow and moody, and I spot Ellis and Giselle out there, Laken and Coop, Michelle and Liam, and Em and Ethan. Mia and Melissa are dancing with Nathan and Barron. Hell, even Lizbeth and Tad are gyrating with the best of them.
“Go on out there.” Logan gives me a light kick in the back of the leg, and my knee collapses
for a moment. “Dance with your wife.” He looks right at me with a softness to him because he means it. “I’ve got an ornery little lady on my hands to contend with. I’ll go see if I can’t sneak her a bite of the cake.”
Angel flaps her arms and gives a squawk of approval. Her pink face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Da Da! Da Da!” she sings, and we share a laugh.
“Don’t you dare feed her sugar.” Skyla presses a kiss to Angel’s tiny lips. “You behave.”
I lead my wife down to the dance floor, and we bury ourselves deep in the crowd beside Bree and Drake on one side, Laken and Coop on the other, and it feels right.
My arms fold over her back, and she pulls me in close with her glowing crystal eyes sealed over mine.
“I love you, Skyla Oliver.”
Her hips grind into mine. “And I love you, Gage Oliver.” She leans up on her tiptoes and presses a heated kiss to my lips. “I’m so thrilled to be your wife. I love our little family. We really do have it all.”
“We do, don’t we?” I give her a little spin, and Skyla bubbles with laughter. Skyla and I dance circles under those stars buried in fog. Brielle changes partners and dances with Ellis, with Logan, with Dudley. But Skyla remains steadfast in my arms. I don’t think I’d bow out if anyone tried to change that.
Bree and Drake take center stage again as they head up to cut the cake—an enormous towering confection that rivals the size of a mid-sized sedan. Bree waves her bouquet at the crowd, and on cue a thousand single girls line up to catch it. She gives it a light toss over her shoulders, and Lex dives for it like a linebacker on her way to the victory line, but it’s Mia who holds it up victorious. Both Skyla and I exchange a glance.
“Any clue who she might choose as the groom?” I give Skyla a light peck over the cheek as I ask.
“I guess it depends what day it is.” She gives a slight frown before looking back up at me and relaxing into a smile. “I sort of wish that music was still going. That was kind of nice. Dancing with my husband happens to be one of my favorite sports.”
I glance around and spot Nathan and Barron in Laken and Coop’s arms. “I think we’ve got the kids covered for a few minutes. How about you and I get lost?”
“I like the sound of that.” She leans in with her lids hooded. “You know I’m still in Kegel hell, and thus insatiably horny. And by the way, I happen to hate that particular word.”
I wince because we both hate it, but we both love it because it means such great things for us. “Follow my lead.” I take her arms and wrap them around my waist as I scoot the two of us behind the wall of shrubbery Brielle erected just for the occasion.
The world melts away, a new one appearing in its place as the white sandy shore gives way to black sand, and our feet touch down on precious Rockaway soil.
“I love it here!” Skyla jumps in my arms as we take in the desolate ebony shoreline. From the distance, we can see the twinkling lights down at Silent Cove, but we can’t hear the music, so I produce my own. The air around us fills with the slow rhythm of a sax as Skyla’s body once again conforms to mine. “Smooth Oliver.”
“I am smooth. I ended up with you, didn’t I?” I dip her backward, and she lets out a scream of delight. “Come here.” I pull her to me, and Skyla floats up on her tiptoes until her mouth is melting over mine. I harness all of my powers until the moon pours a single beam over us like a spotlight. It takes everything I’ve got, but I shield us with my love, placing a banner over us that no government agency can penetrate with the human eye. And then I take it to the next level. I pull Skyla into the heavens with me, Levatio style. How I miss those humble Levatio days, but I wouldn’t trade anything I have now to get them back. Everything that’s happened has molded our destinies, brought us our boys, brought us each other. Skyla is my wife, my life, and I will fight until my last breath, and then beyond to keep her. I’m greedy that way. A simple covenant isn’t enough for what we have. Not any force in heaven—her mother—or any force in hell—my father, can tear us apart.
A crackle of lightning goes off overhead, and a dull laugh rattles through me. I’d like to see them try.
Nope, Skyla and I are an eternal pairing. I feel it deep down in my bones. Skyla brings out the best in me—and the beast. In one quick burst, a pair of wings erupts from my shoulder blades and into the night sky with a span of forty feet between them at least.
Skyla tips her head back and laughs. “Gage Oliver—you are such a showoff! And so am I.” She bows her head a moment, and a burst of white plumes ejects behind her. Soft, bountiful feathers that glimmer an unearthly iridescent shade blossom over her shoulders, and Skyla glows under the light of her wings.
“Damn, you are beautiful.”
She bites down over her smile as she lands a finger to my lips. “Should the King use language such as this?” She shakes her head ever so slightly. “I strictly forbid it.”
“If my queen insists.” I crash my mouth over hers as we float higher and higher to the stratosphere and back, bathing in moonlight, bathing in the warmth of our love.
Right here in this moment, we seal our love forever.
Logan
Forever young.
It’s funny, the thoughts that sail through your mind as you drift off to sleep. I never once believed I would die in my prime, close my eyes one last time before I ever hit my second decade of life, but I did. I was just a kid. A stupid one at that. No, it wasn’t my first go-around on this planet, but it was my best. I don’t think too much of the life I lived as a burn victim. If anything, it was a prelude to a dream, my dream life with my dream girl, Skyla.
No, I didn’t think I’d die young. Gage and all of his morbid premonitions always hinted that he would be the one to float off this spinning blue rock before he ever hit thirty. I was the one he predicted would grow to a ripe old age with Skyla. But that was back when thirty was old as dirt anyway. Yes, the second coming of Logan Oliver was a sight to behold. Got my face back. Spent some serious time in the gym building a body. Quarterback of the West Paragon Dawgs. Had all the girls spinning their heads, offering to open their legs. I used to own this island. I was hot shit. One day I held the keys to the kingdom—the next, I was in kingdom come. It was over before it ever really began. Beheaded by a girl I once thought I might gift my heart to. Yes, I’ll be the last to admit that I had the hots for Chloe Bishop. So much so that I mistakenly, for a very brief moment, thought it might be the real thing. Chloe. Fucking Chloe. For certain, she qualifies as my brief stint of insanity.
I drift off to that strange space between consciousness and sleep—the exact juncture I need to hop off the train and head for someone else’s dreamscape. For the last few weeks, I’ve been visiting Casey in her dreams. Dream visitations is a gift I’ve honed over the years. It doesn’t drain me the next day quite like it used to, but I still feel like a sack of shit that’s been set on fire and stomped on. I don’t mind, though. Casey is sweet. An older version of what I envision Angel growing up to be like. And because I feel so brotherly, so fatherly toward her, it burdens me to know exactly where she is—a glass box, locked up somewhere in the heart of Raven’s Eye.
The room forms around me, solid and real, and yet it’s simply Casey’s ability to recreate her world for me while she’s locked in her slumber.
“Finally, slow poke!” She swats me with her pillow. I’ve had Casey memorize her quarters and utilize it as the backdrop to our nighttime tête-à-tête. Mostly because I need to see this place, know the ins and outs of what she’s familiar with, what I’m up against should things go south for anyone involved. Yes, the dead signed up for what amounts to a death sentence, but after getting to know them, spending time with them while at Gage and Skyla’s place, I don’t have the heart to abandon them. I guess this is my meager form of monitoring the situation. So far, Casey says they’ve done nothing more invasive than have them stare at what amounts to Rorschach blotches. Asked them to perform rudimentary telepathic tasks, checking their str
ength, their speed, raining down the inquisition as far as who they are—what planet they’re from.
“I’m late because Angel put up a fight.”
Her fresh scrubbed face lights up at the mention of my baby girl. “Skyla let her spend the night?”
“No, I didn’t ask. I simply put her to bed, but she didn’t want me to leave.” When Skyla and Gage moved back to the Landon house, we agreed Angel should go with them. It’s just at night when we’re separated. You can hardly say that I’ve been living the life of a part-time father ever since. Gage says I’m welcome anytime, and I’ve spent so much time at the Landon house as of late, it’s starting to feel like our high school days. “Skyla is a great mother. I always knew she would be.”
Casey pulls out a deck of cards—Old Maid, her favorite, and begins to shuffle. “You always say such nice things about her. You really like Skyla, don’t you?” Her lips twitch as if she’s been onto me the entire time.
“What’s not to like? She’s my sister-in-law in a way. She was my wife once. My girlfriend briefly before that. Gage has made a habit of snatching her out of my arms ever since she arrived on the island. It’s a game we like to play. Only now I guess it’s game over for me.” I take up the cards she deals my way. “I’m okay with it, though. Gage and Skyla are pretty great together.”
“I’ll agree with that.” Her blonde brows hitch up a notch. Casey is the quintessential little sister next door—all of the innocence and unstoppable youth embodied in a pre-teen. “Gage seems pretty nice. I don’t really know him as well as I know you. Those little boys they have are just a dream. Do you think Gage is a nice guy?”
My stomach clenches, and I’m not sure why. “Yup. He’s the best. He’s got his hands full, though—work, school, family, and he’s pulling it all off with grace and ease. He should be awarded father of the year.”
“You’re a father now. Don’t you think you deserve that award?” She places down two sets of matching cards and laughs in my face.
Crown of Ashes Page 51
