Bree lets out an egregious whoop. “I’m in!” she shouts as she leaps in the air and miraculously lands next to Rory. Bree bumps and grinds her body against Rory’s until my sister catches on, and soon her arms are in the air and her hips are moving seductively in time to the music.
My blood boils just witnessing her having a seemingly good time. That was not the point of this exercise. I use my arms to weed whack my way through the wall of women swarming around Marshall, and I pull him to his feet.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Marshall is cuttingly handsome in this schizophrenic lighting, his eyes glow with demonic intent, and there’s a naughty grin curved on his lips that gives a smidgen of hope to the women flocked around him.
His boiling red eyes narrow over mine. “Might I ask more appropriately, what the hell you’re doing here?”
A tiny giggle stifles in my throat. “You just said hell.”
He lifts a finger without looking at the stage. “And your other half is about to showcase far more than you realize.”
I glance up, and sure enough, Rory is in the middle of tossing off her bustier.
“Oh my God.” I grab ahold of the lip of the stage and sloppily prop myself up as if I were getting out of a pool with a dripping wet wool coat. I’m so caught off guard by Rory’s sudden ability to fit into this tantalizing scene, that I didn’t even think to turn up Chloe’s Celestra strength to rocket me next to her.
The raunchy thumping music only grows louder. My entire body pulsates with the bass. Hordes of men howl and chant, waving dollar bills at me with that rabid look of lust in their eyes.
How is this my life?I think as I stagger to my feet. How can my mother see this and not want to fix it? I watch the scene play out for moment, stunned, as Bree and Rory strip to their underwear, much to approving taunts of the men’s choir down below.
This is not how it should be.
Gage and I had a nice life for about five entire minutes.
Logan and I should be enjoying a nice life right about now.
I should have peace. I should be entertaining friends and family at Whitehorse. I should be concerning myself with my boys—concerning myself with thoughts of having more children with my husband. Instead, I am dead to myself. Watching as some celestial beast, who is technically a full-blooded sibling, does her best to reclaim what she thought was hers.
She’s living in a place she doesn’t belong, in a body never meant for her, trying to lead a people she knows nothing about. She is driven by power and greed, and now the rest of the world, starting with my children and me will be forced to live out the consequences.
Gage has pulled me down into Hell with him. He did this. He slaughtered me and all I have left is the fight inside of me. The sheer will to go on. The simple understanding that good must win, and my people must prosper to protect mankind from a certain doom that the Fems and their greedy ways have already rained down upon this earth.
I’m existing on borrowed time, in a borrowed body, in a world that will never understand me or my mission. And right now, the biggest obstacle is this celestial bitch who just flung off Chloe’s best bustier and exposed my boobs to a thousand testosterone-laden men.
The flash of a camera goes off, then another, and I leap over Rory and pin her to the stage.
“You will not do this to me!” I howl in her face.
“Get off, Chloe,” she grunts each word out as she springs back to her feet, running to the front of the stage well out of reach.
Rory dips her thumbs into her underwear and the crowd goes wild.
“Bree!” I shout up over the music as I struggle to rise to my feet. “Bree, we need to stop her,” I say as Bree quickly unhooks her own bra and slaps me in the face with it.
“Get with it, Bishop!” she roars with laughter as she moves to the beat of the music.
Don’t you dare listen to her, Messenger! This is your mess, not mine. Get your own mop to clean it. My boobs are off-limits. And if it’s any consolation to you, your tits look great. I’m sure the internet will love them.
My eyes latch onto Marshall’s as he stands near the foot of the stage looking over at me with a stern expression.
He’s not moving a muscle. The rest of the girls think this is all fun and games, and, of course, Bree is a willing participant all on her own. It’s up to me to bring this party to a crashing conclusion.
I look over to the front of the stage just in time to see Rory’s pretty pink panties drop before she turns around and bends over.
With everything in me I charge over and tackle her. With sheer momentum, I sweep us off the stage, landing us in a hornet’s nest of strangers as they grab at our bodies for a cheap thrill.
A warm jacket falls over me, Marshall’s offering from his suit, and I quickly wrap it around Rory before navigating her the hell out of this place.
