“Two parties sounds splendid to me,” Chloe chirps with her hand to her chest as she looks off into space as if envisioning herself in a gown, on my arm as we wear matching crowns, and all of it makes me want to vomit.
“I’m not having it. At least not for a good long while,” I growl. “I need to talk to Demetri myself. And Wes.” God, Wes. How can I look him in the eye?
But it’s Skyla my heart grieves for, her beautiful spirit—how I’ve plundered everything we once were just to secure a future with her. I never imagined I’d regret it, but in truth, it’s far too late for regrets. I’ve come this far, and there’s no looking back. I’ve killed for her—and the body count will rise if it has to. This isn’t a game and there isn’t a rewind button. This is simply the kind of macabre shit that you have to own whether you want to or not.
The entire throne room darkens, the growl of thunder erupts overhead, and jags of lightning illuminate the area a sterile shade of blue.
“Father.” Sage steps forward and picks up my hand, her tiny face looking up at me solemnly. “I realize you’re in pain, but for your own sake, remove your feelings from the equation. All of Sheddai is gloomy no thanks to your moping. There will be no reconciliation between you and Mother. You’ll have to adjust. Granted, I see it isn’t an easy task, but you are more than a man. You are akin to God. You must relegate your emotions to a higher plane. For goodness’ sake, the entire dominion reflects your mood. It was so cheery and beautiful those blissful first few moments.”
“Neither you nor Sheddai will get anything remotely blissful or cheery from me.” I stagger toward the throne I sold Skyla’s people out for. “This is who I am, Sage. I don’t see an improvement coming anytime soon. The gloom and the doom is fitting.” I almost want to laugh at how frighteningly accurate it is. It’s almost a relief. “In fact, I’m not calling this place Sheddai anymore. It’s not anywhere near holy.”
An exasperated sigh expends from her. “It means sufficient Lord. But it could hold the meaning of protector as well. Is that dark enough for you, Father?” There’s an angry undertone buried in there and I can appreciate it. I demand everyone join me in my anger. Sage is a good start.
“No, it’s not dark enough.” I take a few steps toward the golden throne and glare at it. It looks wicked in its own right, jagged peaks, a cold hard seat. Everything about it is unfriendly. Next to it there is a smaller throne, one for Sage, a look-alike to my own, with the exception she’s adorned it with pearls around the periphery. An oversized ruby footstool rests in front of it like a blood clot. I’m assuming Chloe will demand to have one next to mine soon enough, and I’ll be foolish enough to oblige her. It’s either get her a damn seat or have her on my lap, and I know which one I’d prefer.
“What do you think, Chloe? What should we name it?” I give the spacious room the once-over. The entire castle is made of stone and steel. It’s a knockoff of Wesley’s abode, which is a knockoff of Demetri’s celestial dumpster, but this monster is large enough to fit the entire island in. A dull sigh escapes me at the thought of having Skyla a permanent resident in my dominion. As appealing as it sounds, it would be hell for both of us. Mostly her.
“Eversor.” Chloe lifts her chin, her dark beauty gleaming in this wicked light like the violent end of a spirit sword. “It means destroyer in Latin. That way you keep the meaning but change the language. It’s not at all considered a holy term, nor would it be mistaken for one.” She bounds her way over, her tits jumping, her hips swaying. Chloe has had one hell of a skip in her step ever since all her dreams came true right in this very room. I glare over at that rose petal strewn mattress in the chamber to my right.
“Eversore?” I cock my head at the sky up above—sullen stars, the blackest night, and even a blue moon hangs heavy as if it belonged there. “I like it.” I will be eversore. I will be remiss all of my days until they bleed into eternity right along with Skyla, and even then I will forever hold onto the grief of what I’ve done. In the end, I had no choice, spending an eternity in hell, away from Skyla and my children would have been hell indeed. Yes, I sold out the Sectors to do it, but one of us had to go and it couldn’t be me.
“Eversor,” Chloe puts the right inflection on it again. “I agree it’s far more fitting than Sheddai.”
Sage growls like a rabid alley cat. “I’ll have you know I gifted this realm that blessed name.” She takes a few bold steps toward Chloe, and suddenly it feels as if a brawl is about to take place. For a moment, I wonder if it’s appropriate to let my young daughter, who is wise beyond her years, take on Chloe Bishop—Oliver. “Come closer, I rather have the urge to slap you.”
Chloe leans in dangerously close as if daring her to do so. “The feeling is mutual.”
“Father will never truly love you. His heart belongs to Mother. And believe me, I’d rather it didn’t, ten times as much as you would.”
“Enough,” I say it without the right vigor behind it. In truth, I don’t give a shit if Sage and Chloe go at it for twenty-four eternities. “Eversor, it is. We’ll leave Sheddai to the King of Kings. He destroys nothing. I destroy everything I touch.”
I stagger forward and sit down hard over the cold surface of my glacial throne.
Chloe looks up at me with those big black eyes, lashes batting manically as if she couldn’t believe the sight. “All hail the king.”
3
Logan
The bond of love cannot be broken. It is irrevocable. When I lost Skyla, there was no replacement, no person, no body, no entity that could fill the void. I knew that. I knew it even when I tried my damnedest to achieve it. But this shit? This malfeasance? My blood has been boiling ever since Skyla mentioned Gage Oliver’s union with that beast.
The mist settles over me as if I were a fixture while I stare up at Barron’s home, the lights are on downstairs at this early hour. The horse at my side whinnies and cries incessantly as if setting its hooves on this island brought it unimaginable misery. And believe me, I know that feeling.
“Oliver?” a voice shouts from behind and I turn to see Ellis Harrison speeding down his enormous driveway. Another figure comes up behind him and I’m a bit surprised to see my look-alike Cooper Flanders there.
“Is that an effing horse? Dude”—Ellis comes in close and takes the rope from me, causing the beast to toss its head back and wail into the sky—“get this thing back to Dudley’s.”
“Good idea, Ellis.” I slap the back of the horse and marvel that this ghostlike creature feels so solid. “It’s not his, but I doubt that will matter much.”
Coop stands in front of me with that heavy look in his eyes as he does his best to examine me.
“You look like shit. What’s with the horse routine? You joining the circus?”
“I don’t need to join. I’m a lifelong member,” I say, growling over at my brother’s house once again. “I need to speak to Gage.”
Ellis starts down the street in the direction of Dudley’s house and we follow. “Call him.”
“I’m guessing his connection is shot. I think Wes is my best bet. Anyone up for a trip to the Transfer?”
