“Em had her baby.” I glance to Marshall who’s making his way to Nev and Ezrina, and I’m relieved to see them. We are getting a damn move on regarding those viruses even if I have to infect myself.
“And you delivered it.” Logan pulls back and his lips twist, taking in the damage. “Let’s get you to the shower in the pool house.”
“I agree.”
Gage takes a deep breath as if acquiescing to this fact, as if Logan and I had just announced we were showering together. After being reamed by Chloe for the last half hour, I say he deserves to bask in the misery.
“I’ll find Laken,” Gage volunteers. “I’ll get you some dry clothes to change into.” His eyes pin to mine, and there’s something in them begging me to let him do this. My own begging didn’t get me anywhere. I don’t see why his should.
“No. I’d rather leave wrapped in a towel than let you help me. Why don’t you find your wife? She was rather shaken by the whole incident.” No sooner do the words escape me than Chloe staggers up as if she were the one who gave birth. Her hair is wet, her face washed anew, and gone is every last trace of that parting gift I tossed her way.
“Don’t you look at that bitch,” Chloe barks it out to Gage and his brows depress in that way they do when he’s amused. “She threw that garbage that fell from Morgan’s ass into my face.” Chloe looks to me with venom in her eyes. “You’re going to pay for that, Messenger.”
“For the level of enjoyment I received, I doubt you could come up with a punishment to make me regret it.” I look to Gage as his lip rises on one side with a lopsided smile as if approving of my actions. It’s as if the old him were in there, prisoner, silently cheering me on. Wishful thinking on my part. The old Gage wasn’t weak enough to let this new demonic version rule the roost. There would have been a battle to the death.
“Let’s go.” I pull Logan in and he feels solid, real, and strangely enough, he feels like home.
“Skyla?” Gage calls out before we can get three steps in. “I’ll need the boys for the wedding tomorrow.” There’s a playfulness in his eyes as if he were kidding. As if this were one big joke, and I was the only one not in on the punch line. Hell, I am the punch line.
Skyla. And every dark force of nature laughs up a riot.
Chloe straightens by his side, her bare skin taking on a purple hue in the frosty air.
She gives a shivering grin my way. “Be at Demetri’s by three and no later. Ceremony starts at four o’clock sharp and I need my boys dressed and rehearsed by showtime.”
My stomach clenches when she saysmy boys. My gaze meets up with the man who once loved me, and I bear all of my hatred into his eyes for upturning my world—for demanding that I give my angels, my twin beating hearts to the scourge he chose to torment me with.
“I wish I never met you,” I say the words lower than a whisper as I look to Gage. Those are damning words charged with emotional consequences because I just erased our three children with them. But a part of me meant them. If I could protect the boys and Sage from these beasts trying to take them from me—and I don’t just mean physically—I would do it without thinking.
We have diabolically opposing morals, and each of us believes we’re right. The boys are in for one hell of a tug-of-war, and the thought of losing makes me want to scratch the entire world out of existence. It’s one thing to take their bodies, another entirely to take their souls.
Logan’s hand tenses over mine, assuring me he heard every last word.
We take a step together, in harmony as if we were one.
“Skyla?” Gage calls out and I glance his way. “Don’t be late.” The hardness on his face, those bitter eyes. I can’t even process the madness anymore.
Logan leads me to the pool house, my knees weak and my limbs feel like rubber from all of the adrenaline I’ve had to dispense. I pull off Marshall’s white dress shirt as Logan starts the shower for me, the steam already filling the small cottage equipped with a couch and pool table and very little else. I remember being here with Logan all those years ago when we were first a thing, when I thought Logan was the only one for me. The red felt of the pool table brings back that night, flooding in like a wave of warm, beloved memories that I will cherish for all time. I lay Marshall’s dress shirt over the pool table, the blood already dried in a marbled pattern.
Logan comes out and winces. “Geez, you’re covered head to toe. How many children did you deliver, Dr. Oliver?” His brows hitch as he looks to the dress shirt and does a double take.
“You know what I was just thinking?” I pull him in and mouth anI’m sorryas my bloodied belly rubs against his flannel.
“Never apologize to me.” His smile expands. “I’d never miss out on an opportunity to hold you.”
“Then I’m a lucky, lucky girl.” I can’t help but frown because I think we both know that’s not true.
“What’s on your mind?” He glances back to that shirt as if it were competing for his attention. Logan isn’t the jealous type, nor does blood make him squeamish, so a part of me is intrigued.
“If my memory serves correct, we shared one of our first kisses right here in this very spot.”
His features smooth out and his grin begins to fade before flickering back to life. “I think you’re right.” A quiet laugh pumps from him. “And I believe I killed the moment by sayingright here, right now.”
“Always going for the sexual gold.” We share a warm laugh. “But in your defense, you did say it to yourself. I was mentally eavesdropping.”
“Come on. We both know I was testing out your mad telepathy skills.” His hands heat my back and my skin drinks it in as if it were an elixir.
“And, unfortunately, I’ve got them,” I tease as my eyes lock over those fiery amber eyes. How I’ve missed Logan. “You know, even in the midst of all that chaos, the Counts trying to kill me, kill us, us killing Counts and inadvertently killing ourselves—things always feel easy with you. How is that possible?”
