Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7) (11 page)

“You know,” Drake interjects, “bedtimes and shit. The kid’s up all night because you don’t put it to sleep at a decent hour.”

“No.” My mother closes her eyes. “Beau Geste is an infant. He needs a schedule, not a bedtime. Infants eat all through the night, Brielle.” She nods into her assuredly. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Thank you.” Bree glowers at Drake.

It’s sort of a miracle they can stand to be in the same room, let alone spend the night together and both wake up alive.

“If you haven’t found a decent diaper service yet, I happened to stumble upon one the other day.” Mom plucks a coupon from the counter. “First month is half off.” She marvels as she hands the paper to Brielle.

“Cool.” Brielle straightens. “So they’ll come out and change him whenever? They should erect a statue to whoever thought of this.”

I lean in and inspect the tiny square. “No, it’s for cloth diapers,” I say. “But I bet you’d make a gazillion dollars if you started a baby changing service.” Just saying.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” She drops the coupon as if it were on fire. “That kid needs to wear two diapers at once just to keep the bodily fluids in.”

“I could change him.” Mom masks her desperation by feigning a look of indifference.

Dear God almighty. I’m about to suggest Tad haul her to the bedroom and knock her up just to get her the heck off Brielle’s back. But somehow my vocal cords can’t produce those impossible words—nor can the cursed visual leave my mind. 

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask.” Mom wrinkles her nose, forewarning us of the absurdity to come. “Did you happen to save the placenta?”

“The pla-what?” Brielle cocks her head at my mother as if she’s speaking another language.

“You know, the afterbirth,” Mom whispers the last word and for good reason. “It looks like a giant liver.”

I suck in a breath at my mother’s viral insanity.

Figures. The one single meal I’ve looked forward to wolfing down in this house in a good long while sits patiently before me, and yet, I suddenly want no part of it.

“Gross!” Brielle manages to look more than mildly offended.

“It’s not gross.” Mia is quick to defend her mother’s psychosis. “My friend’s mom just had a baby, and they planted it in the ground along with a tree.”

“The baby?” Brielle bounces back in her seat at the thought of a live infant burial.

“No, stupid,” Mia barks. “The gross liver thingy.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t waste it like that.” Mom is quick to rebuke the idea of reducing it to compost. “I’d turn it into a smoothie or jerky.”

“Holy Joseph and Mary!” Tad sends pieces of his breakfast shooting across the table like a missile. “You don’t eat human baby parts. You just don’t.” His face explodes with color. “Your obsession with infants and digesting their body parts has come to an end.”

Mom doesn’t look amused by his non-supportive outburst and fries him with lasers of hatred. “The human placenta is filled with nutritious benefits, one of which is creating a fertile environment. At my age, I’m going to need all the help I can to have a baby, and if having a placenta smoothie or two helps—I won’t count it out.”

“That’s like some pretty satanic shit.” Ethan is quick to observe. “Like voodoo or something.”

“Anyway, I’ll ask my mom.” Brielle shrugs. “But I’m pretty sure all I had was the baby. Maybe it’s just older people like you who have their livers come out after?”

Mom crimps a smile. “On the bright side”—she doesn’t let us out of her batshit belfry just yet—“we’re all going to be at Demetri’s estate today.” She’s quick to segue into yet another dimension of her delirium—her crush on the violent Fem himself. “I can watch the baby while the two of you enjoy some fun in the sun.” Her head drops a notch at her latest attempt to infiltrate Brielle and Darla’s well-secured diaper garrison.

“Are you kidding? He’s coming with.” Brielle insists. “He’s whiter than Drake’s bare ass. That boy needs some s-u-n.”

“Oh, hon, he’s going to burn.” Mom tries to hide her newfound horror. “Well, anyway, I’ll be looking forward to seeing him.”

I’m pretty sure he’s not the only male she’s looking forward to seeing.

“Speaking of this afternoon,” Tad says, stabbing his fork in the air, “there is going to be a lot of F-R-E-E food floating around that place, and I expect all of you to do your part. Load up like there’s no tomorrow—I’m especially counting on you boys to really pack it in. This will be great training for the hot dog competition on the Fourth. That leaves us with two weeks left to get our digestive tracks in optimal condition. It’s going to be the highlight of our summer.”

“Does Paragon really host something so stupid?” Mia balks.

“Rockaway Point.” Tad nods.

Rockaway? That’s my special place with Gage—was anyway. Now it’ll “forever” be marred with gluttony and vomit—sounds about right.

“For sure that’s not the highlight of our summer.” Mom waves Tad off dismissively. “The highlight of our summer is spending time with that new grandbaby of ours. Speaking of which, are you girls taking your multiples every day?” She spears Mia, Melissa, and me with her baby-making venom.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tad snatches her by the elbow before she has a chance to open a human manufacturing plant right here in Landon central.

Mom frowns at him. “Folic acid is necessary to a young girl’s body to keep the follicles in prime condition. You need to start years in advance to avoid any reproductive difficulties that might crop up later. And no,” she says, turning to the three of us, “I don’t want any new grandbabies in the near future.” She reaches over and tousles my hair. “You and Gage are still on the five year plan, right? Of course, that’s just for marriage. You could always wait to have kids.” 

Every pair of eyes in the room settles over me and suddenly I don’t have the heart to burst Mom’s matrimonial bubble.

“Yeah, that’s what we’re thinking.” It comes out weak, deceptive.

“You know, it’s never too early to start wedding planning. Some of the best locales are booked years in advance.” She leans in with excitement. “We have tons of things to discuss. We’ll do lunch.”

Oh, do we ever have things to discuss. Like the fact her boy toy is the sole proprietor of my newfound misery. I plan on telling Lizbeth Landon every single detail of Demetri’s blood-sucking arrangement. Then I’ll regale her with Gage’s newly demoted status in our lives—break her heart just like he broke mine.

Something tells me this is going to be the worst summer of our lives—if I live long enough to see it.

Chapter 15

The Estate

The sun rides high overhead, hovering like some alien vessel intent on devouring us. The glare provides its own distinct haze, clouds up my vision with the gloss of happiness it so arrogantly displays.

I’m late—two hours to be exact, to the summer kickoff hosted by the monster who killed my father.

My father. I miss him with an indescribable ache.

I park and head over toward Demetri’s estate. This is the summer I’m supposed to close out my community service by rummaging through his dead grandfather’s belongings as an “I’m sorry for hoarding a boatload of pot that was never mine to begin with.” I wonder what my mother will think once I clue her in on
Demetri’s
illegal deviant behavior. Maybe she’ll lose it—lop off his privates and throw them in a ditch. Or maybe she’ll tap into her inner psychotic and marry him—revenge ala Ethan. Honest to God, whatever happened to a little street justice by way of a sawed-off shotgun?

I follow the walkway to the backyard and find the who’s who of Paragon proper. A ton of people from school litter the landscape, along with a bunch of girls from East.

Carson Armistead is already drooling at Logan’s feet with that over-processed haystack that sits on top of her head, paired not so well with her orange tie-die tan from a can. God, it looks like she spread Cheese Whiz all over her skin.

I start heading over and freeze in my tracks.

Chloe has Gage tucked under the gazebo, and she’s yapping into him, spastic like a wind up Chihuahua. His dark head is lowered. He looks bored, angry, and actively looking for an out.

I try to turn away, to force myself to look at the row of swaying willows just behind the gazebo or the rose garden with each bloom turning its face toward the sun, but I can’t move. A train wreck is unfolding, and I’m already very much a part of the wreckage.

I loved him once. He seared himself over my soul, and a part of me still belongs to his wicked heart.

Gage walks past Chloe. She tries to spin him by the elbow, but he keeps on moving until he joins Logan and a motley crew of girls from East, who are busy openly engaging in public worship.

I can’t blame them. Logan is a god. 

Marshall materializes in a brilliant burst of sunshine, first as a shadow, then his exceptionally gorgeous self. “He stomped off rather angry. Was that the resolution you were looking for?” He’s wearing a T-shirt and shorts. His arms are immaculately cut as if he spends all his spare time pumping some serious iron.

“I don’t really care how Gage and Chloe end their conversations.” With a shotgun blast would be nice or maybe a butcher knife.

“You could have fooled half a dozen of your cohorts, who stood around and gawked while you froze solid, drooling over his eminence. Really, he’s removed himself from the picture. Don’t you think you should extricate him from your emotional radar?”

“Easier said than done,” I say, following Marshall over to a shade tree where we watch the festivities unfold without risk of skin cancer and equally deadly ex-boyfriends.

“Should you need a salve for that broken heart, look no further. The panacea, which you desire, is right here.” He picks up my hand and places it over his heart.

I twitch my lips to let some sarcastic remark fly out, then retract. I’m so broken, so utterly humiliated over what I’ve allowed to happen, especially last night, that I might just take Marshall up on the offer.

“OK, it’s a date,” I say, retracting my hand.

“What’s a date?” Mom pops up from behind.

“We were just speaking of an upcoming engagement.” Marshall lays a heavy emphasis on the word
engagement
and sends Mom into a hyperventilating tizzy.

“Can you believe it?” she squeals. “I know they’re young, but they’re so perfect for each other! Oh, look, Emma just arrived. Excuse me.” She hops off, shouting for Emma and waving.

“She’s still propagating rumors of my fake nuptials. I don’t have it in me to break her heart.”

“Sure you do,” Marshall quips. “The heart you’re trying to protect is your own. The more people who become aware of the fact you no longer have a relationship with Jock Strap, the more real it becomes, and the more real it becomes, the more it sinks in that things are over between the two of you. It’s a quite painful process that could easily lead to depression, hysteria—a felony or two.”

“Gee—glad I signed up for more of that. Remind me to drink a gallon of gasoline beforehand and to bring a match.”

“My grievance is duly noted. Come, let’s change the subject.” He nods as a group of girls in bikinis strut by with their boobs bouncing high, their G-string clad bottoms winking with every step. “I did some celestial digging and found out a fascinating fact regarding your people that might interest you.”

“My people? Celestra?” Although he could mean humans since he fits in neither category himself.

“Those eighty-nine slaughtered in the faction war by the Pretty One’s hand are nowhere near Paradise.”

I take in a sharp breath. “Are they in the Transfer?” I’d go down right now and get them myself. And, technically Holden killed them, not Logan.

Marshall shakes his head. “Close—it starts with a T.”

“Transport.”

“No, love, you either go up or down in the Transport, no milling around in hopes to alleviate your soul of its carnal ills as others have been prone to rationalize.”

“Starts with T…” I cut my gaze across the yard and let the crystalline pool draw me in with its inviting blue sparkle. “Oh my God.” I breathe out in a whisper. It feels like a knife just exploded through my abdomen. “The tunnels.”

“The tunnels indeed.” Marshall gives a dark look over to Demetri. “Do you realize what this suggests?”

“They’re alive, and we can get them.” I pant out the words as though we could leave right now. God knows I’d deliver every single Celestra soul from the Counts’ twisted hands if I were able, but I’d rescue Lacey first.

“It means they’re alive and
you
can get them.”

“Why can’t you come with me? Is there some bionic binding spirit down there or something?”

“Something.” He twists into a frown. “I’m going to try and pull some strings. Your mother is involved, so already you should know where this is headed.”

“Nowhere fast,” I’m quick to reply. “Look, I want to speak with her myself. Please tell her I said so. I’m getting a little tired of the hurry up and wait routine from someone who professes to be ‘oh so accessible.’”

“She can hear you. Rest assured, if you invoke her name, she’s with you in spirit. Whether or not she responds is another matter entirely.”

A flash of the brief stay in that den of horror sweeps through me like a rancid memory—that inky, unbearable darkness, the palpable fog. I can still feel it crawling all over me, encasing me in its hopeless languor.

“Marshall,” I whisper, taking a hold of him by the elbow. “I beg of you, find a way to rescue those people. It’s agonizing, excruciatingly painful, and they’re locked up for good. They’ve been kidnapped—and little kids are down there for God’s sake.”

“There is a way.” He says it low. A sadness blooms in Marshall’s crimson eyes that I’ve never seen before. Grief clouds his features and tempers the feel good sensations flowing from his being.

“What is it?”

“It’s you.”      

Chapter 16

Confrontation Station

A slight breeze picks up and rattles the trees lining Demetri’s haunted property like bones in a coffin. The sun sprays out its foreign beams, dousing us with blazing tongues of fire.