burn
Celestra Series Book 3
by Addison Moore
http://addisonmoorewrites.blogspot.com/
Other books by Addison Moore;
Ethereal (Celestra Series Book 1)
Tremble (Celestra Series Book 2)
Copyright © 2011 by Addison Moore
This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.
Table of Contents
Preface
Chapter One — Chloe’s Diary
Chapter Two — Let’s Dance
Chapter Three — Ride
Chapter Four — Oh Baby
Chapter Five — Off with Her Head
Chapter Six — Breathing Lessons
Chapter Seven — Out and About
Chapter Eight — Read On
Chapter Nine — Friday Night Fight
Chapter Ten — Alone
Chapter Eleven — Police
Chapter Twelve — Sorrow
Chapter Thirteen — One Count Down
Chapter Fourteen — My Ride
Chapter Fifteen — Get a Job
Chapter Sixteen — Worlds Collide
Chapter Seventeen — Survivor
Chapter Eighteen — Follow
Chapter Nineteen —Vampire for Sale
Chapter Twenty — Boo
Chapter Twenty-One — Oh Wicked Night
Chapter Twenty-Two — Bite Me
Chapter Twenty-Three — Fight Night
Chapter Twenty-Four — Hot Date
Chapter Twenty-Five — This Kiss
Chapter Twenty-Six — Prophesy
Chapter Twenty-Seven — Heartbreak
Chapter Twenty-Eight — Calling All Angels
Chapter Twenty-Nine — Struggle
Chapter Thirty — Down and Dirty
Chapter Thirty-One — Animal Attraction
Chapter Thirty-Two — Slash
Chapter Thirty-Three— I’ll Stumble For You
Chapter Thirty-Four — Tutor Time
Chapter Thirty-Five — Homecoming
Chapter Thirty-Six — Put on Your Red Shoes
Chapter Thirty-Seven — One Enchanted Evening
Chapter Thirty-Eight — Lead Me
Chapter Thirty-Nine — Into the Woods
Chapter Forty — Gather
Chapter Forty-One — If I Leave You Now
Chapter Forty-Two — Show, Don’t Tell
Chapter Forty-Three — Damage
Chapter Forty-Four — Love Like Ours
Chapter Forty-Five — Rebel, Rebel
Chapter Forty-Six — All Aboard
Chapter Forty-Seven — Blood Like Sugar
Chapter Forty-Eight — Falling
Chapter Forty-Nine — The Death of You
Chapter Fifty — Watch You Bleed
Chapter Fifty-One — Happy Birthday
Preface
The future wafts in and out of my world like a ghost—like a lumbering beast, begging to be tamed. For so long it sat locked in mystery, surrounding me, fickle as the wind. I see it now for the noose it is, the game that never satisfies, the warrior that always kills.
The past proved to be set in stone, the immovable rock of my existence that cast its shadow into the valley of death. But it is the future’s bright light that draws me in, the blinding rays that pull me forward with bionic, magnetic, force. They row me towards my destiny with indescribable power, to a fate questionably determined—washed in the patina of hope.
Chapter One
Chloe’s Diary
Brody the Nitwit,
You so much as turn another page, and I will let Mom, Dad, the Fosters, and the entire population of Paragon in on the fact that Carly left school in April to give birth to your quadruped spawn in New York, where it will be raised as her brother, by her drunk of a stepmother and questionably employed father. If you haven’t scampered already, I’ll make sure your son, whom I shall affectionately refer to as the ‘bastard’, knows what a coward both you and his mother are when the time is right, and trust me, that day will come, ready or not.
-Chloe
I close the covers and clutch the book near my chest. Carly has a baby? Bet Logan doesn’t know that.
I rub my finger against the hard lines of the plain powder blue diary—the pages glued shut long ago by Chloe herself. It’s like holding dynamite—an entire explosion of secrets—the shards refracting into people’s lives.
I pick up the personalized message Chloe left me that slipped out after the first page.
Dear Skyla,
This changes everything.
I must admit, I’m pretty happy with the changes so far. I mean, I don’t know Chloe’s brother at all, he graduated last year, but I know Carly plenty. Carly was the sole reason I was able to channel my hatred into a perfect funnel of angst and kill a Fem. Just the thought of her with Logan sends a rush of heated adrenaline up my spine.
I hop down out of the butterfly room and head over to bed. I cradle the diary as I get under the covers and pull my pillow up behind me. How am I going to read Chloe’s diary—thick as a bible, knowing she wanted Logan as much as I do? I guess my one consolation is the fact she’s dead, for now anyway.
I pull back another page, slow and careful like peeling off skin from a sunburn.
June 26,
Am I supposed to say Dear Diary? I think diaries are stupid. I think diaries belong in a thirteen-year-olds bedroom, tucked under the bed, with a balding one-eyed teddy bear keeping watch.
Let the record show, that this diary was forced upon me because my mother thinks it will help to get my feelings down on paper. I believe the word she used was cathartic. I told her I’d write down my genetic code in Latin, burn my soul onto parchment, like the Shroud of Turin, in exchange for never setting foot in Dr. Booth’s office again. If I never see that man’s face again it will be too soon. Nothing was a bigger waste oftime than sitting in his overstuffed chair staring past him out the window for an hour straight.
It wasn’t helping, so I just stopped going. My mom even tried dragging me to the car. So Dr. Booth caved a little and suggested the diary. My mother picked it up on the way home from their private pow-wow, and now here you are, rubbing against my bare knees, a place Ellis would give his left testicle to be.
But I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad I can finally write down how I feel about things, like the love of my life, the friends that stab me in the back at least once a week, the reason I never forgot the way my hands looked that night last spring covered in blood. That last one still gives me nightmares. But I’m about to unlock all the secrets to this shithole, and I won’t have to die like she did. I’ll do anything not to die like that.
June 27,
So the day started with Michelle bitching about Lexy again. Honest to God, if she can’t figure out how to get a guy of her own, I’m going to feed her to the next rabid Fem that lands in front of me. I tried explaining girl code on the way to the mall where I picked up a hot pink two-piece that glows on my body. It’s straight up practically a g-string in the back, but it has this sort of whale tale thing—anyway, Michelle is on hormonal overdrive and I’m about to give her two black eyes to accessorize that horrific mono-kini she stuffed herself into. It makes her ass look twice its size, and her waist cinch abnormally, like you could stick a ring around it. Just looking at her in it, made me feel like I was staring in a fun house mirror. Maybe that’s why Michelle can’t get Logan away from Lexy? Maybe, it’s because she’s got friends like me who tell her she looks great in whatever her goofy sense of fashi
on dictates for her to wear.
I go back and reread Logan’s name twice. I’m pretty sure she meant someone else, like maybe Ellis? Although, Lexy with anyone is news to me.
So he was there. Of course he was there—it was at his house. I love going behind the gates, especially to the Oliver’s. I love Emma and Barron, Dr. O as I call him. I can’t wait until they’re my in-laws. They already feel like family since I’ve known them forever. Sometimes you just know who you’re going to be with. For me, it’s been the same person my entire life. I’ve grown up with him, hung out at parties and games, swam in the ocean with him brushing up against my skin. I want nothing more than to live out my days, safe, and loved by no one else but Gage.
Chapter Two
Let’s Dance
Gage needs more time in the morning and asks if I can catch a ride to school with Drake and Brielle. I’d rather be late than have to listen to all the cooing that goes on between the two of them. They’re sickeningly in love and seemingly the perfect couple except for the fact Brielle seems to think it’s totally acceptable to cheat on him whenever the opportunity presents itself. I guess I should feel a little protective over Drake considering he’s my stepbrother, but something inside me can’t accept this new family— this new life without my father, so knowing that Brielle routinely sleeps around doesn’t seem to faze me much.
Brielle parks in the gravel overflow of the student parking lot and shoos Drake out of the car.
“Skyla and me have some serious girl talk to do.” She flutters her hand in the air until he scatters like a pigeon in the direction of the gym.
“What’s up?” I ask getting out of her blood red jeep, dirt high up on the sides. “I bet Drake would wash your car if you wanted him to,” I say adjusting my backpack, taking in a lungful of dewy morning air. Maybe that simple act of kindness on Drake’s part will help Brielle turn the corner and respect him a little bit more.
The evergreens stand tall around the periphery, dark and guarded. This island is rife with secrets. The thick black forest surrounds it like a garrison, the never-ending trail of fog lifts for no one—it attests to the island’s truths like a well-worn testimony.
“Yeah, I bet he would.” Brielle traces a heart with her finger onto the hood of the jeep, then rubs the muck off on her jeans. “So guess what?”
“What?” For a moment I think of telling her about Chloe’s diary, about Carly, and how Chloe obviously mixed up Gage and Logan’s names.
“Mr. Dudley offered me a job on his ranch, and I took it.”
“Great.” My lips twist as I contemplate the unholy arrangement. “So when do you start?” I don’t bother asking what she’ll be doing. I already know it has nothing to do with horses or any other scam he’s running while trying to look perfectly human.
“Saturday, and I want you to come with. I made him promise we could work all the same hours and days. It’ll be a total blast.”
“Plus, Drake won’t catch on about you spending too much time over there all by your lonesome.” Marshall, a.k.a. Studley Dudley, takes good looking to a whole new level.
She clicks her tongue and pushes hard into my shoulder as we head to first period. “You’re so funny. And did I ever mention, smart?” She shakes out her hair until it falls around her shoulders in dark copper waves.
“Yeah well, I don’t want a job at the ranch.” In truth, I want to stay as far apart from Marshall as possible. I’ve been a little weirded out ever since he confessed to wanting to procreate with me.
“Please Skyla.” She steps in front of me creating a barrier between me and the entrance to the English building. “Just the once and if you hate it, I’ll totally understand, and I won’t say another word.” She holds her hand in the air, pleading.
Something about Brielle, her bright green eyes, the open look of mischievous behavior written all over her face, everything about her draws me in. Well, everything except for the fact she’s a Count, and the Counts want my blood. I should never trust anyone even remotely associated with the Countenance. They’re the last people I should be hanging out with, or catching rides to school with, or even time traveling with like I have been with Ellis.
But all those things aside, I’ll do anything for Brielle.
“OK, I’ll go.”
***
Gage doesn’t show up for first. I’m anxious and keep checking my cell to see if he’s called or texted, but nothing. I stroll into second without bothering to acknowledge Marshall sitting at the desk impatiently tapping his fingers as if he expects me to be so enthused to be in his presence I should spontaneously break out into cartwheels or something.
“Hey,” I slide in behind Ellis. His dark blonde hair is slicked back in soft waves. He looks slightly more lucid than usual, which means he either got up too late to get stoned or he’s already burned through his stash.
“What’s up with Gage? You zap him back to the past?”
“Very not funny.” I lean forward to continue our conversation just as the bell rings.
Marshall claps his hands and strides into the center of the room in order to get our attention.
“Homecoming is upon us.” He gives a broad smile in my direction. I’ve got dibs on the last dance, Skyla.
Right. Like that’s going to happen. And what’s this ‘upon us’ business? Homecoming is not for like three weeks.
“On behalf of the school, I’ve taken the liberty to reserve the Paragon Beach Resort Hotel. This means no party at Ellis’ this year.” He says the word party and Ellis as though they were vile. “I’m sure you’re all aware of the tragic events that marred last years event.” He rasps his knuckles against the desk of an unsuspecting student.
Chloe. He’s talking about Chloe, how they, the Counts or Fems, kidnapped her during Ellis party, and a horrible feeling washes over me as though I were somehow responsible.
“There is a dress code for this event,” he continues. “Formal wear for ladies and suits for the gentlemen.”
Gage walks in interrupting Marshall’s dissertation on fashion. His dark brows lock in on me as his face breaks into a gentle smile that pushes in his dimples on either side. I clasp his hand briefly as he sits down behind me.
“So, for instance, Mr. Oliver,” Marshall directs his speech towards Gage. “Someone like you, whose wardrobe is comprised of football uniforms, jeans, overalls and Speedos, what have you.” The class explodes in a fit of quiet snickers. “You are going to have to don a dress shirt and slacks, shoes without those spikes you use to gain traction in God’s green earth, and, most definitely, a tie.” Which could double as a noose quite easily, he adds for my benefit. “And if you’ve outgrown the one you wore to the family’s latest and greatest funeral, perhaps your father would be kind enough to let you strip a corpse for the night.” The laughter morphs into gasps. He could dig up the entire cemetery in search for that perfect designer look. Marshall winks in my direction. Lord knows he’s an expert at unearthing the dead. And by the way, Skyla, I have the perfect dress for you.
Like I’m going to let some six thousand year old Sector dress me. Dream on. It’s probably some white robe that drops down to my ankles, fully equipped with a golden sash. No thanks. Or better yet, a tube top and Angel wings, probably sans the tube top this time. I bet he’d be thrilled to see me running around half nude.
I pull a face without meaning to.
He folds his arms across his chest, and bullets his gaze right at me.
It’s black, short, has chains, and is sexy as hell.
I shrink in my seat a little. I’m still not sure this whole telepathy thing is a one-way street with him.
Chapter Three
Ride
Since Logan and Gage drove to school together, it means I get to drive home with both Logan and Gage. Even though Gage mentioned it in passing, this information buoyed my mood all day long.
I didn’t even respond to Michelle during cheer when she called me a bitch-faced snot for accidentally landing
on her walking cast during one of our routines. I could hardly wait for that final bell to ring.
Logan’s already leaning against his white truck, waiting. He’s got on a faded red sweatshirt and jeans. His hair is wet, combed back in dark blonde strands from either the early onset of dew or showering after practice. I walk up and give him the world’s quickest hug. The strong scent of soap clings to him and his skin is polished to perfection—definitely shower.
“Hi,” I say. It comes out a little too eager.
“Hi.” There’s a slight sorrowful edge when he says it. I can’t find it in me to appreciate our game of keep away in public. It heightens the intensity of the time we get to spend alone—makes me long to be with him a thousand times more concentrated than the sun. I let that dull ache burn through me all the while we’re apart. Let it needle into me until I want to cry out from its smoldering oppression.
Gage pats me on the shoulder as he helps me inside, sandwiched in between the two of them. Suddenly it doesn’t feel so great anymore. There’s nothing in me that doesn’t like Gage any less than Logan, and even though I know this is wrong, strangely I don’t feel too horrible about it.
It’s the Count’s fault I’m sociopathic when it comes to love. If they weren’t after me, I could openly be with Logan and would never have even gotten involved with Gage.
“I have a surprise for you.” Logan digs into his cheek with a wicked grin. His brow arches into a perfect curve, and he takes my breath away with his beauty.
“Really?” I try not to sound like I’m flirting while Gage sits dutifully by my side. I’m never going to hurt Gage. I swear to myself I won’t let this happen. “Is that why you guys were late? What is it?”
“Yes, but it was worth being late. And let’s see…” He looks skyward for a second. “It’s big and hot, and desperately wants you to have your way with it.”
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