“Jiminy Cricket! Bull hockey! Great Caesar’sghost!” Tad shrieks as loud as a schoolgirl as the flames lick ever so close to his head, and he begins on a wild spin. The room explodes in screams and shouts as Tad’s entire suit erupts in a blaze with a loud roaring whoosh. Drake and Emily pull the kids to safety while Ethan throws a vase at Tad’s head—and holy crap, that sounded like a skull cracker! I’m assuming he meant to douse him with its contents, but in a state of panic—and a burst of Landon brain cells—he’s sent Tad staggeringinstead.
“Lizbeth!” Tad pauses—his entire body rife with an angry inferno, his eyes just as furious. “So help me God!” And just like that, his faux beard bursts into a wall offire.
“My God, his head is on fire!” I scream, and at exactly that moment Demetri steps into my line of vision and offers a congratulatorynod.
An entire choir ofshitcircles around the room as the unbearable heat skyrockets, and someone swings the front door wide open—most likely in hopes Tad will fly right out. But he doesn’t. Tad spasms around the foyer, shrieking for help that doesn’t seem to come. Mom swats the crap out of him with a broom she’s pulled from the closet, and just like that, his Santa hat ignites like a fiery cherry ontop.
“Holy mother of God.” I glance around in a panic for something,anythingto put the damn fire out. So help me God, Tad Landon is not going to barbecue himself on my children’s firstChristmas.
Logan pulls the red runner off the floor, sending both Liam and Michelle flying straight into the bathroom as they goairborne.
“Move,” he shouts to my mother as he beats Tad with the woven fabric. Marshall comes over and tosses an old quilt over him, and the heat along with the unnatural light all defuse in an instant, and yet my mother quickly plucks it right backoff.
“Are you insane?” she balks. “That was mygrandmother’s!”
Every jaw in the room unhinges as my mother’s need for nostalgia outweighs the fact her husband nearly burned alive before our very eyes. Come to think of it, maybe Tad’s disco inferno was just as much for my mother as it was for me? I take a moment to glare at Demetri. If it was my wish to see his head burst into flames, maybe it was her wish to finish him off? Oh my God! I am very much fearing for Tad Landon’slife.
Tad rolls around to douse the remaining flames while everyone disperses, and Logan ends up wrapping him in the rug like a giant redburrito.
The wail of an ambulance slices through the unexpected silence, and I spot Mia, Melissa, and that oversized beef-eating basketball star each on their phones recording the event to regale the Internet with nodoubt.
The party disbands in less than thirty seconds and leaves a skeleton crew hovering around the charred moaning pile that was once mystepfather.
Marshall kisses each of the boys good night before nodding myway.
Did you enjoy your gift?He gives a sly wink before glancing to Tad who has seemingly recovered enough to belt out every curse known toman.
“No,” I mouth in horror as poor Tad moans and groans his way through another choir ofexpletives.
Marshall pulls me into a quick embrace. “Do thank Demetri. It’s poor form not to. Remember, it’s the thought that counts.” He pulls back and shakes his head ever so slightly as if something went wrong, and it sure as hell did. “That was my gift as well, Skyla.” He picks up my hand, and his jaw redefines itself. Chloe’s ring is already dazzling in the light. “Charming.”
“Chloe gave it to me. It looks vintage.” I bite down on my lip. I’ve never been able to hide a thing fromMarshall.
“It is.” And I’m pretty sure he knowswhy.
I hold it out for a moment and admire it in the light as the medical team hovers over Tad. “I have always wanted a cat’s eye sapphire. How do you think sheknew?”
“I believe you’re looking for the termstarsapphire. Ms. Bishop’s bustling mind remains an utter mystery to me.” He fondles the ring on my finger a moment, pulling it closer to him for inspection. “However this, my love, is neither a star sapphire nor a cat’s eye.” He pauses and takes a breath. “In the old days, this was referred to as lapis lazuli. They were baffled by its clear properties, but that was due to the fact precious sapphires were not readily available to them in their region. It’s why the structure of the throne has an interchangeable term.” A breath expels from him as if he were caught off-guard, and I inch back to get a better look at him. Nothing and no one has ever evoked that response in him. “This is chipped from the living throne of the Most High, Skyla. That slice of light you see is noiris.”
I gasp at the thought. “What is it?” It takes everything in me not to shake the holy crap out ofhim.
“Temper.” His lips curl at the edges as Gage pops up beside us holding both twins, and that sweet spot for him melts all over again. “It is the portal to a power only the creator Himself is privy to. We’ll speak again soon enough. You might want to keep this around.” He flicks the pendant floating at the base of my necklace. I’ve worn the protective hedge, The Eye of Refuge, off and on over the last two years, mostly along with the mirrored heart Logan gifted me for my birthday years ago, but I unceremoniously plucked that one off this morning before I donned the piece. I’m not feeling the love like I once did. I couldn’t bring myself to wear that mirrored heart—not with its proclamation of his love written on the side of it. Not after what I witnessed lastnight.
“Why do I need this, Marshall?” I glare at him a moment. I’m so damned tired of being left in thedark.
Oh, Skyla.He closes his eyes a moment. “Good night.” He bows to Gage a moment before ditching out into the icy nightair.
Barron and Emma headover.
“Good night, you two.” Barron offers the hint of a sad smile. “Skyla, we look forward to seeing youtomorrow.”
Emma gives a curt lift of the hand as they head out the door, and Mia is quick to bolt after them. I’m sure it’s to see her new boy toy who is not actually a boy. Rev is closer to my age than he ever is hers. He’s Dr. Booth’s renegade of a son—sort of a wannabe biker bad boy only I’m not so sure he’s awannabe.
“Good night,” I say as I take the boys from Gage. “I’d better get them tobed.”
“I’ll help you,” he says it more as a fact than a general offer, and something about his commanding demeanor all night sends my rage factor soaring one hundred Femtasticpoints.
“No.” It comes out cold, unfeeling, and I don’t like this new version of myself, ofus.
