“What’s going on?” I don’t hesitate to ask.
Mia looks so much like me, a younger, perhaps a little more hardened by life version of me, with her stony features and that sharp look in her eyes. Melissa looks like her brothers, Drake and Ethan, same pronounced widow’s peak, dark hair, and devil may care look in her eyes. She’s a powerhouse of emotion. And then there’s my mother. Her strawberry blonde hair looks freshly washed, and her marble blue-green eyes are wide with fright.
“Chloe”—Mom leans in—“we think Skyla is having a tough time right now.”
“Yeah.” Mia nods, looking in Rory’s direction. “We think she has postpartum depression.”
Mom scoffs. “Why do you have to make it sound so serious? She’s just got the baby blues. For some reason, she’s not able to bond with Jaxson.”
Melissa nods. “She’s practically forcing Logan to play Mr. Mom. And she gave away the twins to that batshit mother-in-law of hers. That’s when you really know Skyla has lost her mind. I can always ask Dominique for some potion that might help. We see all kinds of jacked-up new moms down at the apothecary. Dominique is forever doling out a mixture of herbs and designer teas. You could say it’s herspecialtea—get it? Special tea?”
“I get it,” I grunt. “I’ll go talk to her.”
Both Mia’s and Melissa’s mouths fall open.
Chloe scoffs.Unless you’re going to dish out some zingers, I suggest you sit this one out.
A silent laugh bounces through me.Oh, I’ve got a few zingers, Chloe.
I head on over to this new version of myself. “Hey, Mess,” I say as I plop down on the barstool next to her, and I take her in and drink down my own face in wonder. It has always been a little off-putting seeing Candace Messenger bear my likeness, and, of course, Mia. But for some strange reason, seeing my own face, my own body while outside of my skin makes me feel light-headed. Those features that I had only known by looking in a mirror are now fully alive in three dimensions. My hair has gone full bush. It’s clear Rory doesn’t have a clue on how to deal with my kinky curls. She has an odd amount of makeup on—too much kohl under the eyes and a strange shade of purple lipstick stains my mouth.
Rory looks over at me, donut in hand, her mouth already opened ready to receive it.
“Chloe Bishop.” She straightens a notch as her eyes ride up and down my body, and a part of me wonders if the gig is up before it ever began. “I’ve been meaning to have a word with you.”
“Really?” I ask as I reach for a glazed cruller. These came from the Gas Lab and I’ve lived off them for the last six months. No wonder she’s powering her way through the box. She’s walked right into an addiction. “What about?” I lock my gaze over hers. What in the world would Rory want with Chloe? “I can hardly wait to hear what you have to say.” True as God.
She gives a quick glance over her shoulder. “I think we should join forces.”
Chloe groans.Sounds like she didn’t get the memo.
I nod. “We have joined forces, R—Skyla,” I’m quick to correct myself. “Remember? The night of your birthday party.” It feels foreign saying my own name out loud. Even more foreign doing so while looking at my likeness.
Her brows pitch. “Oh, that’s right.” She smacks her lips. “But that’s not what I meant.” She leans in. “I’ve always thought we’d make a good alliance. We could lead together, Chloe. Just you and me. We don’t need anybody else.”
Rory wants Chloe on her team. I’m not too surprised. When Chloe has her eye on the prize, there’s no stopping her. She’s a powerhouse.
Thanks, Mess.
“You don’t need me. You have the serum. Focus on making that permanent,” I tell her.
Rory makes a face, and I can’t help but note it irritates me on some level. Must be the Chloe in me percolating to the annoyed surface.
Rory shrugs. “Ezrina’s latest dose lasts twice as long as the prior poison. She’s this close to procuring a permanent solution. Not to mention, Wesley is working with her. It’s as good as in the bag.”
“What about Gage? He’s still a problem for you.” I’m almost afraid to find out what she’s really doing with him—other than bedding him. And dear God, she had better not be bedding him in my body. It’s bad enough she did it with Logan.
“He’s not letting go of the win.” Her expression sours. “He’s got his place secured in the heavenlies, and he’s made it crystal clear Celestra won’t ever rule again.” She shrugs. “But he’s agreed to let me rule beside him. You know what I mean, that whole king-queen thing.”
“What?” This is the first I’m hearing of this lunacy. “No, I don’t know what you mean. Skyla, Celestra has to rule. Isn’t that why you’re here?”
Her eyes sharpen over mine and a breath hitches in my throat at the thought of being discovered for who I truly am.
“Youknow”—I clear my throat—“that’s your destiny and all. You were never meant to cede your crown to another. You can’t just roll over and let Gage squat on your throne. We need to knock him off and send him back to paradise where he belongs.” She needs to be sent back, too, but I keep that little tidbit to myself for now.
She shudders as if I had issued the threat directly to her.
Her lips curl in a smug little manner that makes me want to smack her—smack myself as it were.
