Her trials on living Spectators were only temporal at best. And her track record with bringing back Counts is superior. She plans on enlisting the same formulas she used for the Countenance. Skyla and I worked with Marshall to weaken the spirit swords, an exercise in draining their power from one to another like taking water out of a cup and filling another one, only it involved Marshall’s abilities. And since the swords were his to begin with, he insisted it fell within his right to do so. Here’s hoping for his sake.
“Coop.” Skyla pulls him in by the hand, her lips twisting in pain as she looks at him. “Laken wanted me to tell you that she enjoyed your time at the Transfer the other day. She said Gage invited you down to see the new features added for that ghostly traveling gentry.”
Coop’s chest expands, a defensive tactic, and I wonder what he has to be defensive about.
“It was Wesley’s idea,” Coop sighs. “He had a ghost town, no pun intended, put in a few miles past his home in hopes the Transfer dwellers might be less inclined to mill around his neighborhood. They’re starting to freak Tobie out and he’s bent on making his kids his number one priority. Laken and Wes are splitting their time between the Transfer and Paragon for now.”
“And you were there, too.” She examines him openly. Skyla isn’t immune to Cooper’s strange all-access pass either. “Lucky, lucky you.” She doesn’t smile or give her voice the proper inflection. Instead, she continues to study him for clues, but Coop is a master at his poker face.
Skyla and I say goodbye and head on out to the driveway.
“You mind if I take the wheel?” I ask while looking at her minivan, the windows covered in fingerprints.
“Only if we can take the Mustang.”
We pile in and it feels right. Skyla and me in the car I gifted her for her sixteenth birthday. This dusty orange car was my heart, my father’s heart once, too, and I wanted her to have it. But what I really wanted her to have was me. Here we are all those years later. And I still want the same thing.
* * *
We head into Dudley’s overgrown dungeon and find him tickling the keys to that haunted grand piano that seems to have a knack for playing itself.
“Wow, that’s beautiful, Marshall.” Skyla gushes as the Sector rises and takes a slight bow.
“I have been told I’m good with my hands.”
Skyla shoots a glance my way. “I wouldn’t know. Somebody has been cockblocking me at the pass.”
Marshall grumbles with a dull laugh, “I do believe this one is throwing his cock into the ring.”
“Marshall!” Skyla gasps at the seemingly crass Sector.
“It’s a bird, Ms. Messenger.” His demeanor darkens in an instance. “Do mind your manners when in my presence.”
“Duly noted.” She gives a sly wink my way. “So where are you taking us? I’ve got boys to feed, Spectators to rescue, and Factions of angels I’m working to restore.”
Dudley lifts a brow in amusement. “Are you implying you’re too busy for the interruption I’ve set before you?”
Skyla takes a seductive step toward him and gives his tie a quick tug. “I’m saying make it worth my while, big boy.”
“And on that note.” I glance to the door.
“Stop.” Skyla wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me in tight. “I’m sorry. My head is everywhere. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Marshall is a safe place for me. He never takes me seriously and rejects my every effort to be with him. Anything that happens when I’m knocked out cold in the middle of the night is nothing more than some sexed-up dream on my part.” Her shoulders sag as she looks up from under her lashes. “I’m just so angry, Logan. So filled with piss and vinegar. So unbelievably injured from what Gage has done. I know if I run to you I’ll fall twice as hard as I ever did. I will surrender to your soul completely and worship you in every way. I will be vulnerable in every capacity, and if you knifed me up the way he did, I could never survive.”
My arms circle her waist. “I will never hurt you. Never will I leave. I will never forsake our love. I would no sooner put my next breath above my love for you. There is no one for me but you. I’m running on half-speed without you, Skyla. Only you can ever complete me.”
Tears glitter in her eyes, but they remain stretched wide, the hint of dread lurking in the corners.
“My, what a show,” Dudley growls out his displeasure. “Such theatrics, Young Oliver. Might I suggest you take a page from my playbook as you would say?”
“And what would that be?”
“Stop throwing yourself on her like a wet blanket. You’ve smothered her. Look at your body language. You’ve caged her in. It saysI need you far too much.I want to own you. Take a step back. Allow her to move, to breathe.”
Skyla’s chest bucks. “The two of you do realize I’m in the room.”
“Not for long.” Dudley glares at the roaring flames as the mouth of the fireplace yawns open, revealing a dark, unknowable portal.
“I guess that’s our cue.” Skyla offers a shy smile. “Just FYI, you’re no wet blanket. I like the way your arms feel around my body. You can cage me in anytime you like. I love that you need me far too much, because that’s exactly how I need you.” A lone tear rolls down her cheek like a falling star. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, especially not Em, but I love that you want to own me. You already do. You have always owned me. In my dreams before we ever met on Paragon. Don’t take a step back or I might fall. I need you to breathe.”
