My heart pinches for a moment. A part of me wants to dive back into the grief and blame her for killing off Gage as God intended him to be. A part of me still wants to blame her for the sudden nightmare I’m immersed in, that the world and my people are drowning in. But not tonight.
I pull her to the side and the trio of tramps flicks their wrists and begins cooling themselves with black lace fans. That’s right, girls.
“It’s about to get hotter than hell,” I whisper as I look this monster in the eyes. Dominique Winters is truly another creature altogether who possessed Dominique’s body after the poor woman had a heart attack and died. In fact, her daughter, Melody Winters, was recently possessed—also after an untimely death—by another seventeenth century piece of crap called Cassandra Graham, and I’m willing to bet Dom’s boys, Ashbury and Cash, are truly throwbacks to another evil era as well.
She tries to step to my left and I block her at the pass. “What do you want?” Her eyes flash like purple flames.
“You run the apothecary. I’m looking to purchase something that can inflict mortal harm in the most painful manner possible. Think Madame Bovary.”
A warm laugh rumbles from behind. “Discussing nineteenth century French literature, Ms. Messenger? You never cease to impress me.” Marshall strides up next to her, those eyes of his set to cauldron red.
“Merry Christmas, Marshall.” I blink a quick smile his way before turning to the pale vampire of a woman before me. “Something that lingers. Something that I can get my hands on sooner than later. Time, space, and cost are of no obstacle. My traveling abilities are at your service.”
A sharp cackle emits from her as if I were regaling her with my comedic abilities instead. “No need to travel far. I have what you’re looking for.” Her eyes widen. “But I’m not a fool. When I see a bear trap, I tend to avoid it. There is vengeance in your eyes and I’m not interested.”
“The vengeance isn’t for you. In fact, I forgive you for the things you were forced to do to secure your own standing. If it weren’t you, it would have been someone else. I’m not a fool either. This I know is true.” A roar of laughter breaks out from somewhere to my left and I can’t shake the feeling as if I were being openly mocked. “Funny how life works, isn’t it, Dominique? You give me what I want. You have my blessing with Demetri.”
She gasps with delight, but I don’t stick around. I thread my arm through Marshall’s and take off into the crowd. “You made love to me,” I say without giving him the honor of looking up into those haughty with lust eyes. That pleasant vibratory hum buzzes from his body to mine, and it feels surreal with this level of rage percolating within me. I’m one spark away from blowing up the planet. Not even Marshall’s cool vibes can temper me.
“It sounds as if you have pleasant dreams, Ms. Messenger. I’m flattered you think of me so fondly. I am, however, an innocent man.”
A bout of laughter bursts from my own throat as I look up at him—my anger still flickering and breathing, a very real living being rising up inside of me. How I love hatred. Its dangerous borders hold me and cradle me and tell me that I have the power at this, my darkest hour. Yes, this would be that horrible moment in my life. Gage and Chloe in my face, with my boys, in a room full of Paragon past and present. They know no shame. They hold zero regard for me. Gage has been lumped with Chloe in that respect. He no longer deserves to be held on his own merit.
“You are no man, Marshall, and we both know it. Feel free to visit my dreams anytime you want. I’m through with relationships, but I’m not lying down and dying. I will take care of my bodily needs with whom I please. No strings.” I spot Ellis and Giselle and free myself from Marshall’s grasp as I head on over.
“Skyla”—Ellis pulls me in and holds me in his solid embrace—“Merry Christmas, Messenger.” Never have I been so glad that my friends still call me by my maiden name. If anything brings comfort to me right now, it’s that eternal echo, that fragile connection to my father. I would do anything to have him here.
“Same to the two of you.” I pull back and examine sweet, innocent Giselle with her Gage-like features. Giselle died as a toddler, but my mother gifted her Emerson Kragger’s body, and my mother gave her dimples just like the ones that grace Gage Oliver’s face.
“How could you do this?” Giselle’s features crumble. Her lips tremble as tears stain her eyes a brilliant shock of red. “You let Chloe steal my brother away, and now everything is different. It’s terrible! I don’t like seeing her face instead of yours. She’s miserable, and she hates me. She only pretends to like me. She’s mean, Skyla, and you did this to me!”
“Ellis”—my entire body hums with an undercurrent of rage—“take Giselle someplace safe if you want her to live to see Christmas morning.”
A deep voice shouts my name from behind once again.
Ellis frowns at Giselle as he wraps a protective arm around her. “Go easy on her, Skyla. It’s been a mind-bender ever since we bumped into them.” He leans in, those glossy eyes of his pinned over mine. “Let’s get our shit together and fight like hell to fix this. I’m not waiting for spring, or summer, or for whatever perfect formula you think we need. There has to be something we can do now.”
“There is. As soon as I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”
Ellis and Giselle dissolve into the crowd and I turn to find Ezrina and Nev looking dapper, along with baby Alice in all her curly redheaded glory. Ezrina and Alice have on matching deep forest green velvet dresses with the neckline bejeweled in black sparkling stones. Nev has on a suit with a tie patterned with mistletoe. We exchange the appropriate holiday greetings as Alice fights to be let down.
“No, you don’t, wee one.” Ezrina gives the girl a brisk pat on the bottom. “Mind yourself, there are far too many people for me to keep track of you.”
Alice looks my way and bites the air between us as if she were feral.
“Feisty,” I say. I like that.
“We’ll be leaving soon,” Ezrina informs me with that ever-sober expression of hers. Ezrina is wearing Chloe Bishop’s OG coat of flesh, and Chloe is wearing Ezrina’s. And for a brief moment, it gives me the tiniest pleasure to know that Chloe’s own body wasn’t lucky enough to be present when Gage took her. Although it matters not. The body is but a glove. Chloe was present and accounted for in every important way, feeling everything he was willing to gift her.
I lean in. “We need to press ahead with hiding the markers. I’m afraid we’ve run out of time. Emily says the only way we’ll revert the nightmare we’re in is to utilize the enemy’s plan against him.”
Nev’s chest bucks with a dull laugh. “It’s genius. We ourselves adopt their strategy. And knowing Master Wesley, it is a good one.”
I can’t help but shed a devilish smile because he didn’t credit Gage. I like that he’s already been demoted in the eyes of my people as second best to Wes. In some twisted, dark way, I’m rooting for Wes to be the leader of that demonic league—for Wes to usurp both Gage and Demetri in their dark authority.
“Skyla,” that deep, booming voice finally catches up to me, and I turn to find Logan and Coop. Logan’s chest is palpitating as if he ran a marathon. He looks resplendent in jeans and a flannel, ever the average man who shines like a god. Those amber eyes of his are wild with rage that almost matches up with mine. “You say the word and I’ll get the boys. We can go to Whitehorse, the Landons’, anywhere but here.”
“No. I have to do this. It’s happening and I’m not running from anything anymore.” I pull both Logan and Coop in for a quick embrace. “Merry Christmas.”
