“Those things stay here, Gage Oliver,” Mom snaps with a look of venom shooting my way, and now it’s me with my mouth open withsurprise.
Skyla chuckles. “Those things stay here, Gage Oliver.” Her eyes meet mine with a sting. “And so doyou.” She rises and gathers the diaper bag, readying toleave.
Giselle shouts for everyone to open the rest of their gifts at once, and much to my mother’s protest an unwrapping-festensues.
“Skyla, wait.” I’m about to impart my best plea when Mom pops up with a small bag and hands it toSkyla.
“This too is for the boys.” Mom offers Skyla her best smile. And even though her lips are hiked in the right direction, there’s something sinister in her tone and my gut twists. Who the hell knows where this is headed. “Andthisyou may take with you.” She tips her head to Skyla as if to trumpher.
“Oh, the suspense.” Skyla glances from my mother to me without the right amount of enthusiasm. “I can hardly wait.” She reaches into the tiny red bag and pulls out a small brown bottle. “Syrup of ipecac?” Skyla shakes her head at the two of us as if to ask thequestion.
“That’s right.” Mom beams. “Now that’s something they can really use.” Her eyes grow wide the way they do when she’s sure she’s bested someone. “It’s to be administered in the event they’ve accidentally been poisoned. Now if you’ll excuse me.” She traipses off toward Giselle and coos at whatever it is Santa has gifted mysister.
Skyla shoves the bottle back into the bag with a marked aggression. “I’d say thank you if I could, but I really don’t think I can. I’d better go before I accidently poison someone”—she glares hard at me—“and it won’t be either of theboys.”
“Don’t go,” I plead when I know I shouldn’t. In all honesty, it’s a bad idea that either of us stays. Skyla is right about my mother. She’s always been right, and it took almost losing her to see this. God, I haven’t lost her, have I? “Things are just about to kick into high gear. I have a gift for Giselle from the two of us. A walking talking robot that will follow her around that big mansion—and it even says her name. I got it half off. I couldn’tresist.”
“Oh? I think things have already kicked into high gear.” Her voice swings heavily toward sarcasm. “What with talk of custody delineation, the rousing discussion on how I no longer have access to my own children’s gifts, and let’s not forget the Christmas traditions you’ll be starting on your own. That stocking debacle is quite the ode to your new family—one withoutme.”
“I would never cut you out. You are my family.” I block her from bolting. “You are the reason I live and breathe. You and these boys are my life,” I grit the words in an effort to keep it together. “I will protect you until the day I die, and then I’ll protect you from beyond the grave. There is no power in this universe that can stopme.”
Her chest expands the way it does just before we get intimate. And what I wouldn’t do to get intimate with my wife one more time. Tonightpreferably.
“Except Demetri,” she says as she scoops up the car seat and sets it on thesofa.
“Don’t put the baby down,” I bark it out like an order without meaning to. “We’re taking a family picture. I navigate her to the tree, surprisingly without protest, and hand my phone to Logan. “Just a few quick ones.” I cradle Barron in my right arm as Skyla holds Nathan closest to me. I glance to Skyla, my beautiful wife, the mother of my children, and my heart breaks because her rage toward me is so alive, so palpable on her face. This isn’t quite the moment I was hoping to encapsulate. “Smile, Skyla,” I whisper. “Smile for the damnpicture.”
Her eyes round out, and her lips twitch in the right direction. Skyla has always loved it when I talk dirty. I’m guessing my alpha commands are having the same effect on her, and I’m glad because I’m fine with being stern if I have to. I’d growl and bark at her all day and all night if it landed me in our bedagain.
We stand next to the tree, each with a sleeping boy in our arms, and smile for the damncamera.
And just like that, it’s a merry Christmas afterall.
Logan
The sky coversParagon with a cloak of darkness, thick as midnight, and at two in the afternoon it’s an amazing feat to witness. If Paragon had fallen into the sea, the rest of the world would simply carry on without us. Those endless L.A. commutes would continue without batting a false eyelash. Hunger and war would rage on to see another day. It seems that Paragon has to battle for her very existence. Despite the fog, she demands to be seen. I realize there are places in this world where night swallows down the day, hour after hour, but technically, Paragon isn’t one of them. But this afternoon the island has lost her will to fight and has succumb to the dark winter and his dark charm. There isn’t an inch of promise on the horizon. Instead, the storm batters Paragon with an incessant beating. This is a lashing from the heavens, corporal punishment for all of Paragon’s blatant sins. After all, this is the nexus of the battle of the spiritual forces that rule our universe. Perhaps we deserve the biggest beating, the most devastating blows that Mother Nature has to offer. Celestra and all of its formidable power has taken a back seat to Wesley’s Steel Barricade. Wesley and his wicked father, Demetri, are in fact proving to be made of something far stronger than steel—they had become the sun, and the rest of the Factions are simply spinning in their orbit. Celestra is slowly being swallowed by the night, and Wesley is at the helm of thedarkness.
The Paragon Bowling Alley sits like a stone anchored in an angry sea. I can see Whitehorse, my home, the home I built for Skyla, across the street from the doors leading into the arcade. The bowling alley itself is original, save for the kitchen, which caught fire, followed by a renovation a few years back. The blaze was set by Fems trying to kill Skyla—or me—a second time around. I suppose you can never be too sure. The one thing I am certain of is that the Fems are far more demonic than they ever are angelic. Yes, they love the Master, and the Master’s Son, but they can’t seem to fathom the fact the Sectors, their spiritual equals, are in factsuperiorto them in the earthen realm, and thus in the heavenlies as well. It’s all about saving face—a power grab. Who gets the head seat at the dinner table. Who rides shotgun. Nothing more than a juvenile battle of the wills. But when you get down to brass tacks, the Sectors—picture a million Marshall Dudleys—are for Celestra and the ethics and morals we stand for. The Fems have aligned themselves with the Countenance Faction, which superstitiously is out for themselves. As much as the Fems want control of the spiritual realm, the Counts have lusted after control of the Factions. The only thing the Fems and the Counts really have in common is their shared hatred forCelestra.
I head into my office and pull out an old file markedpricing. Inside, I have all of Wesley’s latest and greatest moves mapped out in a series of symbols, a shorthand that only I can understand, and half the time it’s too far gone for even me to remember what I was trying to say. I fall into my seat, the cheap office chair with its chipping faux leather raining black confetti all over the floor, and start pouring over mynotes.
Wesley has reanimated the Viden youth as Spectators. In other words, he’s turned them into a roving band of people hungry zombies. Skyla and I had them roped and tied in the Tenebrous Woods, the old tunnels the Counts once used as a blood harvesting station for Celestra. Brute assholes. But nevertheless, every last Celestra is free, and as of the christening, Wesley—correction,Demetrifreed the Viden Spectators aswell.
I thump my pencil over my desk trying to drink this in. Wes has thousands of people ready and willing to wreak havoc on our unsuspecting world. Demetri finally has Gage where he wants him—sworn to lead the rat pack of destruction as the head Fem in charge. Gage had no choice. When he left the Barricade, he was cursed—the heart of one he loved would turn against him. Once his sons were born, it was clear the curse would be passed to them, and in an effort to save his children from a lifetime of wickedness—thus breaking their mother’s heart—he assumed the curse on himself. He did what any good father and husband would have done. Gage is ahero.
And that’s where we are today. So, what is Wesley Edinger’s nextmove?
I hold the paper up as if that might actually shed light on the disaster. Demetri has already caused a significant rift between Skyla and Gage. That was easy enough. Now that Wes has his right-hand man back on his side, he’ll move as quick as greased lightning to achieve his overall goal—but what exactly is that? World domination? Too broad. Nope. I’m pretty sure once he kicks Celestra to the curb he’ll let the rest of us in on his little nefarious plot. No time to wait for that bullshit. The thing with someone as crooked as Wes and Demetri is that you’d better stay ten steps ahead of them or they’ll eat your lunch. Hell, they’ll eat your breakfast and dinner,too.
“Logan?” Lexy Bakova pops her head in. Despite the many other things going on in Lexy’s life, she still makes time to help out at the bowling alley. Of my original crew from West Paragon High, only she and Ellis remain. She’s vamped up from head to toe in black—low-cut on top, high-cut on bottom, spiked heels, bright red lipstick. I used to not think too much of the fact that Lex looks as if she’s headed clubbing after a shift until Liam pointed out that the show was just for me. Liam has leashed himself to Michelle Miller—who in effect is Lexy’s best friend. Michelle made it clear to my brother that if she couldn’t have me, she’s rooting for Lex. And believe me, the two of them are campaigning hard. “There’s someone out here who wants you.” She runs her tongue slowly over her lips as if she were letting me know she wants me,too.
“On my way.” I tuck the file back and head inside, fully expecting to find the place filled with government drones, each in a matching suit, those same dull expressions that Moser and Killion wore like a mask—that is, right up until they were eaten alive. I didn’t have the displeasure of seeing Moser torn to pieces, but I witnessed poor Killion with her body in a Spectator’s mouth. That horrified look on her face—the one that realized death was imminent—has been staining my nightmares ever since. But there’s only one suit in the entire place, and it doesn’t belong to the feds—or thankfully, Marshall Dudley. It belongs to Heathcliff O’Hare. But it’s not the suit he’s wearing that surprises me. It’s the somber look on his face. Ever since Candace freed him from the body of a raven, he’s worn a perennial smile. Mostly that has to do with the fact he’s married to the love of his life, Ezrina, so the frown is new and I’m not lovingit.
“What’s up my, old friend?” I slap him over the shoulder as we navigate to the nearest table. It’s empty inside, not even a ghost is willing to spend its precious time haunting theplace.
“I’m afraid Rina is up—or should I say down.” Nev rests his elbows onto the table and lands his head in his hands. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her as of late. She’s ornery, and rigid, and runs hot and cold from moment tomoment.”
“Sounds like a woman.” My shit-eating grin melts away just as fast as I shed it while I do a quick sweep for any females in the vicinity. I’m not afraid of Lexy Bakova, but my heart would break if Skyla heard the disparaging remark, especially since she’s markedly pissed at the moment. “Look, I don’t mean that. Something is obviously eating at her. Maybe it’s hormones. Maybe it’s that time of the month?” Wow, now I’m really glad there’s not a female around to witness my chauvinistic side shining through. “Okay, I don’t mean that either. Women have every right to get upset. Did you piss her off? Are you leaving the toilet seat up again? That drives them fucking nuts. Pardon mylanguage.”
