Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7) (38 page)

“I talked to my dad after the meeting and asked if there was anything that would get him to change his mind.” Ellis meets my gaze with a serious demeanor I’ve never seen in him before. “There was one thing.”

A harsh wind blows through the porch. The fog spins around us like a flurry of cantankerous ghosts—as if the entire graveyard came to life and decided to join the party. Everything hinges on what Ellis says next. Everything hinges on whether or not I agree with the serpent, who is his father, and if I’m able to meet his hostile demands.

“What is it?” I blow out a breath and clasp my hand over Ellis for support.

“He said if you meant something to me, he would consider dropping the issue.”

“And what did you say?” My heart rattles unharnessed inside my chest.

“I said he should spare you because we got a thing going.” He swallows hard. “I said you were my girlfriend.”

 

 

Chapter 54

Blood Count

 

 

“So now what?” I ask, stupefied by the fact my treble depends upon whether or not I’m Ellis Harrison’s new fornication station—or at least pretend to be.

A light rain starts to beat down on us sideways, infiltrating the porch at Emily’s house of artistic and carnal terrors. Inside, the party rages on even though Emily, herself, is probably in the shower, trying to remove the sticky residue of corn syrup I just baptized her with—and if my gut is correct, she’s not alone in the endeavor. Drake has a lot of nerve to attempt to openly buck Emily in the presence of the mother of his child. It would seem common sense isn’t a genetic marker of the Landon clan, which completely disproves Darwin’s theory on the survival of the fittest because obviously the unfit breed and breed prolifically. 

“So.” Ellis shrugs. The porch light casts a white glare off the top of his head and illuminates his high cheekbones, the crest of his greasy smile. “You wanna do it?”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek. If it were anyone else, I would seriously doubt I was just propositioned right here before God, Logan, and Gage—Marshall somewhere within earshot. But this is Ellis, which assures me the double entendre was more than intentional. And, if it were anyone other than me, it would probably land him a nice little hoebag for a solid ten minutes, ready to turn action into satisfaction. 

“Yes, I want to
do
it.” I over enunciate. If I’m going to fool his father, I might as well take his son for a ride, too. Not physically. Besides, sexual banter is Ellis’s native language—Marshall’s too. Hell, Marshall most likely invented it. “But it’s going to be fake.”

His entire person brightens. “Of course it’s going to be fake. Right up until you fall hard for me. Then I’ll have to get my mom to write up a restraining order to keep you away.”

“So that’s it?” I shrug. “I have to show up and watch a movie at your house? Go to dinner with you, hold your hand in public?” I’m getting off easy. Every single person in those tunnels would give anything to have a chance to live on the outside again. Hanging out with Ellis would be a small price to pay for freedom.

“Simple as that.” Ellis subdues the curve of his smile like he’s a used car salesmen trying to close a deal. “One more thing. My dad mentioned we might need to find a way to appease Arson. He’s not one to go away quietly.”

“As in what? Date Pierce?” A rise of vomit surges to the back of my throat at the thought of Holden pawing me.

“No, not that.” Logan steps forward and needles me with a serious look. “He didn’t have a suggestion for anything that might take Arson off your back.”

“Perfect. I’m right back at ground zero.” Trying to please a Kragger is a near impossibility let alone Big Daddy K who stalks around Paragon like some Albino demon. I’d have better luck surviving a pit of starving tigers while holding a can of cat food.

“There is something that might make him change his mind.” Gage dips his head into his chest. “Rumor has it he visits his daughter’s grave nearly every single day, twice on weekends and holidays.

“Emerson?” Chloe poisoned her after promising to super-size her bloodstream with some Celestra goodness. Of course, Chloe took her down with strychnine, something she keeps on hand for a snack. “She’s in the Transfer. The Counts can bring her back anytime they want to.” I saw her down there myself. Emerson was gorgeous, and now she’s locked in a tube of blue keeping solution, floating like some macabre mermaid until the Counts see fit to blip her back into existence.

“They can, but it’ll take a lot of reserves to do it.” Logan shakes his head. “Her kidneys were destroyed, her liver is shot, and her heart was severely damaged.” 

“Sounds like they need a Celestra.” Gage circles my waist like he’s trying to protect me from the idea, which started out as his by the way.

“Why couldn’t they use one from the tunnels?” Not that I’m averse from doing it, but I’m curious.

“Supplies are backlogged,” Ellis offers.

“They’ve got the tunnels in some kind of treble of their own,” I say. “Stuck on two bastardized years ago.”

Logan pulls me free from Gage with a gentle tug of the hand. “Counts that require full transfusions like Emerson are on a waiting list. According to Ezrina, Emerson is ten years out.”

I for sure don’t like the fact Logan is buddying up to the hatchet princess. Nothing good is going to come from this. I’m betting we’ll have a tomahawk missile crisis to avert sooner than later.

“Sounds like Emerson is desperate for my services.” I can see it now, me in Ezrina’s lair hooked up with a crimson hose pumping my blood directly into the she-Kragger. “You guys think that’s enough to buy Arson’s vote to keep me on the island?”

Logan bears into me with a morbid sense of heartbreak. “I’m not sure.” 

“I gotta get back inside.” Ellis moves toward the door. “I’ll call you so we can get started on operation Whipped for Ellis. My dad’s in town, so maybe you can come by and we’ll watch a
movie
or something.” He winks because I suspect movie is code for let’s get naked. “I’ll surprise you with something good.”

“Whipped for Ellis,” I swallow a laugh. I can think of a million worse things than watching a movie with Ellis. This is going to be a cake walk, not to mention Logan and Gage live right across the street, so I can just drop by afterward.

“Let’s take off.” Gage wraps his arms around me. He lands a wet kiss behind my ear, and the wind licks it, enlivening my skin from head to toe in goose bumps. “I have a surprise for you, too.”

“Actually—” Logan steps forward, presses into me with a solemn expression, a smile plays on his lips, but he tries to hide it. “I’d like to borrow Skyla for a little while if that’s OK.”

Gage doesn’t bother to mask his irritation. “Is that OK with you?” He hums it into my ear.

“Um…” I look back at Gage, his sturdy open features, his strong arms still firmly planted around me. “It’s fine.”

“I’ll catch you in the butterfly room?” Gage delivers a sultry kiss before I can reply.

“Sure.” I feel uneasy with Gage’s PDA in front of a very broken-hearted Logan. Something about our arrangement isn’t settling well with me anymore.

A pair of heels clop along the porch and we glance over to find Chloe barreling in our direction.

“Is this where the line begins for Skyla’s kissing booth?” she asks Logan, openly mocking him in the process for having to bear witness to the lingual exchange.

“Leave,” I say. “I’ve met my drama quota for the day.”

“I was just about to.” She leans her cleavage into Gage as if she were trying to lure him with her.

“I’m taking off to,” he says, planting a rather docile kiss on the top of my head. “Butterfly room?”

“Butterfly room,” I whisper.

We watch as Gage heads over to his truck with Chloe struggling to keep up like a stray dog begging for a boner.

“Can I catch a ride?” she shouts after him.

I bet she wants a ride. She’d rob the U.S. Treasury if she thought it would get him to drop trou and give her a ride on the Gage express.

In your dreams, Chloe.

Gage would rather hang himself than tote her around on his person or in his truck. 

“Butterfly room,” Logan scoffs to himself. He picks up my hand and warms it with both of his.

I have a feeling he’s not tolerating this after-the-war crap anymore. My relationship with Gage has never ticked him off so openly.  

“You’re right, Skyla,” he affirms, “I just may have changed my mind.”

Knew it.

I lose myself in Gage’s taillights. This is all going to end in a spectacular crash, the three of us colliding at a million loving miles an hour.

The empty street startles me to attention.

Where the hell did Chloe go?

He didn’t.

He couldn’t.

Dear God, I think he did.

What in the hell is Gage Oliver thinking?

 

 

 

Chapter 55

Elysian Fields

 

 

Logan and I drive the long stretch of Paragon highway with his headlights reflecting off the powder-like fog, immersing us in a God-breathed whiteout. Every now and again, Logan switches on his brights, but it reduces visibility to less than nothing as the mist lights up proficiently as the sun.

I try not to think too hard about Gage giving Chloe a ride. I wouldn’t put it past her to duck for cover once he left, just to make me think he did. Instead, I lose myself in the pale, arid night—its stony calm matching the atmosphere in the car.

I press my gaze into the crystalline mist. I imagine that’s what you see when you land yourself on the other side of existence, what it must be like to die. One minute you’re on a ski lift, and the next you’re swallowed by an exquisite illumination. It beckons you to stay, pulls you forward until you land in the Transport. Marshall showed me that jasper cave, red as lava, with angels inside ready to send you to a more permanent location.

“When is my dad coming out?” I ask, breaking the silence we filled with the comfort of being alone. That’s the best part about being with Logan. Nothing is ever strange. We could be silent for a thousand years and not think anything of it. With Gage there are always reassurances that have to be made, Chloe rearing her ugly head, asking for a ride.

“Your dad?” He squints into the windshield as if he were trying to decipher who that might be—either that or he’s busy trying to navigate us down the highway by memory. I know for a fact we could easily get killed on a night like tonight. One wrong turn, and a head-on collision could pole vault me to see my father a lot quicker than I ever imagined.

“I just figured my mom might have mentioned it. She said something about the two of them coming to Paragon. I suppose I’ll know soon enough. They’re probably coming to remind me what a disappointment I’ve been.”

“You’re not a disappointment to anyone, Skyla. You’re on the right path.”

“Right path to what? Losing the war?” If I do lose the war, I won’t mind one bit sharing the blame with my destination-wielding mother.

Logan makes a hard left without answering the question. The headlights refract off a sign that reads
Welcome to the Falls of Virtue. 

I sink a little in my seat. Logan has a track record of stripping down to his next to nothings while here. And although the thought of Logan doing the big boxer reveal is hot, I’m pretty sure I’m back together with Gage, so major awkward will ensue should the urge arise to drop his pants. Also, I’m a little apprehensive because Logan all but declared himself back in the game before we left the party.

“Damn Kragger,” Logan hisses just below his breath as he parks high on the ridge overlooking the lake.

“Is he here?” I straighten with a mild sense of panic as Logan takes up my hand. The last people I care to deal with are the Kraggers, and now it looks like I’ll be doing a revival in exchange for survival with yet another from their evil brood—Emerson.

“No, he’s not. And as for Emerson, I wouldn’t get worked up over reviving her. Counts won’t allow it. Accepting the blood of a captive in order to fulfill a bribe would be cause for a hearing. From what I hear, Arson doesn’t drift too far from the Count playbook.  That’s exactly why he wants to hang Demetri by the balls. He’s a legalist. We’ll think of another way.” He kills the engine and sits back dejected.

“Crap.” Everything in me sags. “I have nothing outside of my blood to offer the Kraggers. Hey, maybe we can remind him that I’m sort of the reason Holden is around?” I think about it a moment. “No, that won’t work. I took him off the planet to begin with, Pierce, too.” Killing Kraggers is just one of those spooky things Chloe and I have in common. “Anyway, don’t feel bad about what Holden tried to do to me at the lake.”

“I do,” he says, bringing my hand to his lips and closing his eyes. His lids tremble—a seam of liquid lines his lashes, thick with remorse. “When he was evicted from my body, I was left with the memories. All that crap he pulled will haunt me for the next fifty years.”

“Holden didn’t seem to have your memory,” I say. Holden was clueless to life in general, which is par for the course.

“That’s because Holden is a dolt and didn’t know how to access it. Proof positive that he’s not firing with all pistons.” He pinches his eyes shut before turning to look at me. “I know what he did to you here. I’m sorry.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “I would never hurt you like that. I would never even force you to look at me, let alone touch me—nor would I touch you without permission.”

“Don’t apologize for something you clearly didn’t do. Holden is a natural born asshole. I’m just sick he lives to see another day. Did you hear he broke up with Nat? Just dumped her at the beach a few weeks back like she had the plague.”

“I heard.” His voice softens. Logan looks as if he’s about to dive into me—like I were the exact warm pool of water he was searching for. I had become an entire ocean of desire to Logan, and he wants nothing more than one last swim. “I did bring you here to talk about someone’s relationship,” he rasps out the words with a sad smile. “Ours.”

Everything in me freezes.

The fog presses against the windows in an effort to listen in. It permeates the small spaces and seeps into the atmosphere, becomes a part of us like it has been all along. All of nature has bent its ear in this direction. This is seismic. Everything about Gage and me—Logan and me—might hinge on this very conversation.

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