18
Gage
The blackness of space, of the unknown universe surrounds me as the stars, new undiscovered constellations spray out in the distance, above, below, and all around us.
For one tender moment, it’s just Skyla and me—along with the profound level of calm and silence only this side of heaven can bring. If I try hard enough, I could believe I’ve rewound time, one year ago exactly and we are still happy, nestled in our bed with the boys warm between us. We were so whole, so very content, so madly in love. A part of me doesn’t believe she shares with Logan what she shared with me. What we had was a powerful elixir for both of our souls. It was explosive, and at the end of the day, it was outright dangerous. And yet, here we are. A crown for me. Hell for her. And in all of the ironies the dark side of the universe could pull off, I am Skyla’s worst nightmare.
I land Skyla lovingly in a swarm of clouds that I command to usher her safely back into Logan’s arms.
What the hell was she thinking? Had I not been paying attention—had I blinked a second too long, I wouldn’t have seen her running into the fire as if she were immune to its powers. But I never take my eyes off of Skyla. Even when she thinks I’m not watching, I’m there. I didn’t hesitate to bring her up with me on my ascent. Hell, it’s probably best she ran into the flames. I would have brought her anyway. After all, she is my queen. She may not know it. She certainly doesn’t feel it—God, I can never let her do that. Once she penetrates the fort of my emotions, I might just cave and tell her everything. Skyla would never fight for her people if she knew it would be the cause for eternal separation for us. But then, inevitably other truths would roll out. Skyla would soon learn that Marshall, perhaps even her mother—although I find it hard to swallow that one—would be bound to hell. Skyla would be in far more anguish than she knew what to do with. There are some things that are simply too heavy for us to carry, and the knowledge of this horrible truth is it for Skyla.
Eversor garners my attention once again. The stage of the universe, the white-hot spotlight on yours truly. It feels like a joke, like a nightmare that not even my twisted mind could conjure. What in the hell is happening to me? What in the hell has happened? Surely, I haven’t become the Celestra killer, the hunter of Skyla’s people—the very people I swore would be my own.
Her sweet face flits through my mind as if some dark force were holding up a picture. It saysremember your love for me. And I do. I must spend eternity with Skyla and the kids. I simply must. This time on earth is a blip on the screen. So, what if I’m a monster for five minutes so long as I get an unlimited amount of time to rectify my misdeed. I’m sure that at the end of the day none of this will feel real.
In fact, after I ask forgiveness of each soul I caused heartache to, I plan on forgetting all about this spiritual malfeasance. I’m not holding onto the guilt or the pain because the agony would be too much. And while I’m on Paragon or in Eversor, the demonic dominion my father has granted me, I will compartmentalize. Each death, each strike against Skyla’s people is nothing more than a tactical move on my part. The wheels of this wicked war must keep moving, and I am the one pushing this broken-down train toward the finish line. And I will use all of my love for Skyla to fuel the effort. And that, my friend, is another ironic truth. How I wonder what Skyla will do and say when she discovers where my true motives lie. I plan on telling her within minutes of her homecoming. As soon as she leaves her body and heads for heaven, I’ll be there waiting for her, my love shining brighter than the sun. Perhaps that will be the biggest surprise of them all.
My form alters. I morph from the serpent back to the handsome devil Demetri Edinger designed me to be as I land with thrust back in that golden throne. All of Eversor shouts with joy, with false adulation as Demetri himself comes at me with a crown in hand. It looks weighted, a gold rim with a row of crosses protruding up from it in a holy rhythm. He lands it over my head and it feels as if the weight of the world is pressing down on me, painful as a crown of thorns.
More cheers from the celestial peanut gallery as Demetri beams with that never-ending grin of his. I see it now for what it really is, an I gotcha—you’ve been had this entire time. Demetri knew the end from the beginning. It’s no wonder he hasn’t worn out that shit-eating grin of his yet.
He turns to the gentry and lifts a hand. “In the name of all things that are right, good, and holy, I bid each one of you—all hail the king!”
A raucous roar comes from the bourgeoning crowd and then the unthinkable happens. In gentle waves, they bow down to me, not all of them, of course. Logan, Skyla, and a handful of others remain standing, but their eyes are trained on me.
A slow smile bleeds onto my lips as I shoot a vindictive look their way. The game continues. It picks up pace. I must continue to be the thorn in their side, the one the Lord shall not remove because it makes their dependence on Him stronger. With each act of wickedness, I am doing them a favor, saving the damn day. I wonder if evil justifies its actions that way? A wicked song as old as time.
Then in an instant, a celestial jubilation breaks out. The crowd is mingling, the angels are singing, and Candace is laughing with her cohorts as the party gets underway, full swing. The scent of smoked meat, the yeast of freshly baked bread, and the scent of a delicious Thanksgiving meal takes over as tables are filled with glorious food that even my stomach is rumbling for.
I rise up out of my seat rather unceremoniously and head to Demetri. Sage is occupied with the boys, each doing his best to sit in her miniature throne and she’s not having it.
“Son.” Demetri grins until his entire face is enveloped with that crooked smile. “You’ve done it. All of our work has come to fruition. You have crushed Celestra under your heel, you have the highest level of honor, and you have an army of angelic forces at your disposal. I have laid the world at your feet. You’re welcome.”
“You forgot one thing”—I say as I step in next to him so I can observe the crowd below us—“I don’t have Skyla.”
His eyes flit to mine, and if I’m not mistaken, I felt a knife in my spirit, a subconscious threat simply with the look in his eyes.
“Do not mention it ever again. You have what you were destined to have. You both had a choice.” He nods over to her where she’s speaking with Laken and Coop. My eyes scan the vicinity furtively until I spot Logan with Wes. My heart may always be set toward Skyla, but it’s set to seek out Logan next. The boys, Sage, they are simply mine—as good as me. I’ve absorbed their beings, grafted them onto my soul, but Skyla and Logan are just out of my grasp for a time and I hate that.
“So be it.” I pretend to go along with Demetri’s mockery. As far as I see it, it’s on a countdown anyhow—countdown to Skyla’s death. A thought comes to me. “What would happen if Skyla were to die? Who would take over? Who would I have to battle next?” I think both Demetri and I know I’m not sticking around for that shit show, but regardless, I want the details. Every last one of them.
He takes a deep breath. “That child she’s carrying. It should be that child,” he says it as if he’s uncertain. “They’ll take over, of course. The family business must go on. And if I know Candace—and believe me, I know Candace—the next will be more powerful than the last.”
“Do you know me?” a sweet chortling voice chimes from behind and we turn to find Skyla’s countenance staring back at us in the form of her mother. I would be a liar if I didn’t admit that it warmed me to see her. If I can’t have Skyla, I’ll take her in fragments. I smile at the fact because I happen to have put a hedge over my thoughts that no one—not even the devilish duo before me can penetrate. In fact, I’ve extended the courtesy to my guests. The last thing I want is to know what anybody is truly thinking.
Her eyes light up, sparkling with a light only heavenly diamonds can. “Congratulations.” She loses the smile. Her demeanor is suddenly cold—an affect that I’m far more familiar with from her. “Know this. Your victory, though true, will be short-lived. You will not prosper. You will not carry out this buffoonery to finality.” Her lips curl at the tips. “Does this comfort you in some small way?”
Her words warm me. It’s as if deep down I had longed to hear it. But I demand that I roar back to life.
“Hell no. I rebuke your words. Do not tread on my crown while it’s still cold on my head. I have won the war, Skyla.” My voice shakes and I don’t bother correcting the verbal blunder of uttering the wrong name. “And you will not prosper. Nor will your people.”
Demetri chuckles, but Candace grows colder still. Her icy stare has my soul downright shivering.
“Very well. Have it your way—in your mind. But Celestra prospers.” She offers a simple nod to Demetri. “And I have never spoken a lie.” The words come out like a challenge, as if she were calling Demetri out on something. I’m sure Demetri has slithered his way past many a slippery word, so I don’t even go there. For that I believe Candace, for the rest of it, I will gladly make a liar out of her. She floats back down toward the gentry and they swarm her with delight.
“Even in my dominion, Candace Messenger reigns supreme,” I muse.
“Yes, well, let her have her moment.” Demetri’s affect grows dark for the very first time since I can remember. “For that slight we’ll take down the rest of Celestra. And it will be the last time anyone speaks to us that way.” He charges off, arms outstretched as he meets with Lizbeth.
