“You wish,” she hisses as I head for the stairs. “We will deal with this shit tonight, Oliver!” she shouts and her voice rattles the pictures on the wall on the second story—pictures of the two of us and the kids as we play the part of the perfect family.
Perfect storm is more like it.
What in the hell was I thinking dragging her into this mess? Yes, it pissed off Skyla and took her off my trail, but this is Chloe Bishop I’ve chosen to use as a pawn. It will not end well. I need a plan. I need something that will work. I need a freaking third body double that will take over my bedroom duties. Wesley has made it crystal clear that it won’t be him.
I hustle up to the butterfly room and slam the door shut behind me. “Rory,” I bark it out in a fury. “Get down here right now.” All of the anger pent up inside of me is enough to blow a hole through every wall on Paragon.
Rory materializes slowly into Skyla’s beautiful form as the butterflies dance and flutter around her, and for a brief moment in time, a perfect peace descends upon me. But that peace, just like every other thing in my life, is fleeting.
“Yes, my king?” She gives a hearty wink. “Of what service might I be to you this fine evening?” She steps forward and her cool fingers graze my cheek.
“I need help with Chloe.”
“What’s this? A lover’s quarrel?”
“That’s exactly what we’re quarrelling about.”
“I don’t care for Chloe. You put her in your bed. You deal with her.” She lifts her arms as if she were ready to leave in style, and I secure my hands over her wrists and reel her in against my chest.
“I put you in my bed, and that’s exactly why I have a problem brewing.”
“Chloe is a mare. I’m not interested in arousing her nasty side.”
“Every side is her nasty side.”
A dirty grin flirts on her lips and, my God, how I miss that dirty grin on Skyla and what inevitably came next was very, very dirty.
“Chloe is a means to an end for you, Gage. I understand this. Why don’t you understand this? Why in heaven’s name have you let her crawl under your skin this way?”
“I need to sleep with her.”
“So, do it. Close your eyes and think of handbags and all those other good things.”
“Great.” I avert my eyes. “I’ve got a comedian on my hands.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “Find me someone, a being, an entity, an animal for hell’s sake. I need them to morph into my likeness and do the deed for me.”
A curt laugh bubbles from her. “You are a king now, dare I remind you. And a benefit of being such is that you have legions of willing beings, entities, and animals at your disposal. Surely you can rustle up a little black magic and find someone suitable to tame your bride in the bedroom.”
“I can’t do it.” The words growl out of me as I head to the small round window that looks down over the front of the street—a view I used to dream of sharing with Skyla one day, and here I am with her enemy.And here I am her enemy. Shit. “I can’t trust them. Nobody can know about this.” Chloe and her threats come back to me. “It’s inevitable that Chloe will vomit up all the details if this goes on much longer. The baby was my best excuse, but she’s ready and willing now and my hands are tied.”
A dull laugh pumps from her as she glides her fingers down the front of my jeans. “That’s not all that’s tied. She’s seen what you’re packing and she wants a go-round on that nightstick of yours.”
“Chloe wouldn’t care if I had a one-inch stub. She’s so far gone with her affection for me.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong.”
I turn to face her and it hits me. “You’re right. Chloe’s loyalty ends at her bruised ego. And that’s exactly why I need this mess mopped up as soon as possible.” My hand rides along her svelte arm, such a stunning representation of my wife’s, my true wife.
Rory tips her head back. “She’ll be Logan’s wife soon,” she muses, curling her lips at the thought of reading my mind. “And she will be unstoppable.” She shrugs. “It’s a shame. I rather liked you.” Her finger traces my lips, and the urge to take her grows wild. “You do realize the only true way to stop my sister is to stop her beating heart. Without her—Celestra, the enemy doesn’t have the standing to combat you.”
“They have Ezrina. They have Logan.” I inch back, appraising her to try to figure out exactly what she’s thinking.
“They don’t qualify to take the reins. They couldn’t shut you down if they tried. Only Skyla, and/or only a child she and Logan create that garners a blessing from my mother and the Justice Alliance would be the next in line to claim her scepter.” She shakes her head woefully as her palm settles over my cheek softly. “Don’t you see? The only way to ensure you reign supreme until kingdom come is to make sure Skyla isn’t around to take it from you. Dear Gage—Chloe and her boiling libido isn’t the problem. It’s my sister.” She leans in, those luscious lips just inches from my own. “You must kill Skyla.” It comes out threadbare, a faint whisper from the dead, the stuff that nightmares are made of. Rory spews out a dozen different ways to dispose of her sister, and I shake my head at each and every one of them. The final plan being the most outlandish. “You must do this. The sooner, the better.”
“I’m not killing Skyla. And I’m not sleeping with Chloe.” I close my eyes and tip my head back because I am so thoroughly screwed.
“Then sleep with me.” Rory pulls me from my stupor as she lands her lips to mine.
But I’m not sleeping with Rory anymore either. Instead, I release myself from her presence, one molecule at a time until I’m in the butterfly room, the original one with Skyla lying naked on a bed of blankets, her eyes slit, already waiting for me.
