Chloe squints those suspicious eyes my way. “The better to gouge your eyes out with. What do you mean you’re dead? If this is one of your manipulation tactics, you can forget it. I’m not buying any of the bull you’re slinging anymore.”
“I’m really dead, Chloe.” I hold my arms out and she steps forward and pokes a finger right through my chest.
“Dead, huh?” She hikes a wicked brow. “I still don’t buy it.”
“It’s true. Stick a fork in me, I’m done. Dead as a doornail. I bit the big one. Kicked the rusty bucket. But, I’ve been deprived of a proper dirt nap, and that sort of brings me to my next point.”
Chloe stands right in front of me and glowers as if she’s seeing her own reflection.
“Skyla Messenger. Dead.” She flips me off without missing a beat. “I see destiny has righted itself after all. And to think, I was beginning to lose out hope. What do you want?”
“I want back everything I lost.”
She scoffs. “What do you think I am? A celestial piggy bank?”
“I don’t know. Give me a hammer to smash over your head and we’ll find out.”
“Funny.” She glowers my way. “Don’t you have a male harem to tend to? Why are you wasting time with me?”
“Come to find out, you’re not my least favorite person to waste time with, after all. I’ve got a proposition for you.”
“No,” she flatlines while checking her freshly painted manicure. I must have caught her on do-it-yourself spa night.
I scoff at her quick rebuttal. “Hear me out.”
“I’ve heard everything I want to hear, Skyla. No, and goodbye. Better yet, let’s leave off where we started this conversation.” She gives me the finger again, and this time it comes with a short-lived smile.
“Chloe, please. You have to listen to what I’m trying to tell you. Rory—she’s in my body, parading around Paragon wearing me like a coat. And my babies! You have to understand, I love being a mother. I love my little boys more than life itself.” Anguish fills my voice, and it takes a moment for me to compose myself.
She sits down again and pulls forward a bottle of blood red nail polish. Her eyes are slow to meet with mine.
“You’re really dead, huh?” She shakes the bottle with a newfound vigor. “So how’d it happen? Let me guess, you gagged on Logan’s—”
“No,” I cut her off at the lewd pass. “It was actually Gage that I gagged on.”
Her eyes widen with both anger and horror.
“Gage?” She gives a curt blink. “Oh, Skyla, please leave before there is another attempt on your life. I’m afraid you’re not dead enough for me yet. And as much as I’d like to fix that, I have my feet to tend to.”
“Chloe”—I bend down and try my best to clamp my hands over hers—“let me tend to your feet. In fact, let me tend to your whole body. I’ll take care of it, I promise.”
“You want my body?” Her voice rises in an unnatural octave, and for the first time in the history of ever, I do believe Chloe Bishop is just a little bit afraid. “Dudley, either tell me she’s kidding or haul this slimy soul away from me. I’m not in the mood to whore out my body to a celestial slug.” She shoves her face to mine. “Be gone, Skyla. I’m not interested in playing your body-snatching games.”
“Yes, you are, Chloe,” I hiss. “I need a body, and I need it now. I’m getting married to Logan, and I need to evict Rory out of my body before that happens. She’s already given the twins away to Emma—and she’s teamed up with Gage!”
“Let me get this straight.” Her lips twist as she glances to the floor. “You let Gage screw your soul right out of your body, and now you wantmybody so you can wreak more havoc on the unsuspecting planet. I hate to break it to you, Skyla, but the world would be a much safer place if only you had letmepossessyourbody. Not the other way around. And why the hell do you need a body, anyway? I’m sure you can do just as much damage to the Factions without one. I have that much confidence in you.”
“I need a body because that happens to be a requirement for hanging out on planet Earth. If I don’t get a corporal frame, I’ll be whisked off to paradise for good. Let’s just say my mother has given me a day pass—one friendly little possession, one chance to evict Rory and get back into my own body.”
Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “Why me?”
“You’re perfect.” Okay, so I might be laying it on a little thick, but I’m not wrong.
She sniffs the air. It’s clear her ego has been stroked in the right direction.
“And what do I get out of the deal?” Her eyes remain slotted, and I can practically see her wheels spinning as to what this might mean for her.
What the hell could it mean for her?
