I shoot Logan a look. We need to tell him the truth. He’ll understand. In fact, I don’t know why we didn’t to begin with. I know we’re trying to protect him from all the gory details that the future has to offer, but maybe we don’t have to highlight the fact he’s going to go full Demetri on us and sprout sooted wings and breath fire all over our lives before he marries Chloe and shits on every good thing we had.
“The two of you are just going to have to keep away from one another,” he continues, and there’s something in his voice that makes my chest tight. “The Counts will get the point eventually.”
It’s true, the Counts want Logan and me dead, and they certainly don’t want us dating and mating and producing some super race of pure Celestra. Gage was the deflection. We were supposed to fake date, but then we decided to really date until Logan and I could defeat the Counts—and kiss him without feeling one iota of guilt. It was all so very twisted, but in our teenage minds, it made perfect sense. Also, that baseball bat in Gage’s pants totally approved.
Gage winces as if what he’s about to say next physically hurts. “And I think maybe I should expand my horizons.”
“Expand your horizons?” Logan’s brows hike right off his forehead as if this were the last thing he expected.
You can count me in on that shocked and confused list, too.
“Meaning?” I ask, and unless this involves pottery or the chess club, I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
Gage shrugs, but there’s nothing casual about the gesture. “Meaning I should probably try to get my mind off of you. I’m going to see other girls.”
The words land exactly where he intended them to—a shot to the heart.
“Other girls?” I squawk. “Like whom? LikeBree?” Okay, so that might be the best-case scenario. She would sonotfall in love with him, but she might offer him a tutorial on everything he needs to know in bed. That way, by the time he circles back to me, he’ll be a pro. Not that he wasn’t already. Plus, Bree treats boys like library books—checks them out, enjoys them for a bit, then returns them exactly where she found them.
A moment of silence thumps by, and I get the feeling my boobalicious bestie isn’t going to factor into this new equation—which sucks.
Gage glowers at the bowling lanes as if they’ve personally offended him. “No, I don’t know. Chloe’s been coming after me pretty hard lately. Maybe I’ll start there.”
I gasp so hard, I nearly suck in a bowling ball.
The thought of Gage with Chloe makes my blood pressure spike in ways that are probably far less safer than anything Demetri has planned for my family. My entire body is revolting.
“No way,” I tell him, then promptly let approximately fifty or so expletives fly. “We’re talking about a monster who weaponizes affection and thinks emotional manipulation is foreplay. She’ll chew you up and spit you out just to prove she can.”
Okay, fine. So we all know she’s not spitting and quitting when it comes to the dark-haired Oliver. She’s going to swallow and savor every last drop. But I’ll never point that out. Besides, right about now,Ilook like the spitter and quitter in Gage’s eyes. He alreadythinks I’m running a one-woman Oliver collection agency, trying to catch ’em all like they’re limited edition Pokémon cards. I’m not sure what that makes Marshall—the bonus card that comes with its own prehensile tongue?
Gage turns to Logan. “Look, I need to take off and clear my head. Maybe spend some time talking to Nev. I miss that guy.” He casts a hooded glance my way, and I hope that means he misses me, too. But then again, he might be giving me the side-eye because at this moment in time, I happen to be the owner of that dark-winged creature.
Nev would be Nevermore, AKA Heathcliff O’Hare, the love of Ezrina’s life—both of whom were cast apart and cursed centuries ago. At this point in time, Ezrina is busy hustling for the Counts, and Heathcliff’s soul is stuck in a raven nicknamed Nevermore. Gage actually gifted Nev to me a while back, thus the fact that he’s missing him. And honestly, I’ve yet to see Nev on this, my extended stay light drive, so I’m sort of missing him, too.
Gage stands, looking down at both of us with an expression that’s equal parts hurt and determination. “I’m starting to miss a lot of people.”
And just like that, he’s gone, leaving Logan and me sitting at a picnic table surrounded by the sounds of strikes, spares, and teenage drama that might as well be happening on another planet. We’re basically the world’s saddest supernatural support group—population, two time travelers who just broke their friend’s heart with the exact same script as the first time, because apparently, we’re not creative enough to find new ways to ruin lives.
“That was fun,” Logan says after a moment.
“He’s going to dateChloe,” I hiss, the words coming out flat and horrified. “Chloe, Logan. Chloe Freaking Bishop! The girl who probably stays up at night honing her manipulation techniques in the mirror. The girl whose life goal it is to swallow Gage Oliver in three hasty bites and then regurgitate him so she can do it again and again.”
“Skyla—”
“And it’s my fault,” I seethe. “All of this is my fault. I’m here screwing up everyone’s timeline, making Drake turn into some leather-wearing wannabe rebel, convincing Kate not to go on a ski trip, only to land Bree in a casket instead, and now Gage is going to throw himself at the most toxic person in our class because I can’t figure out how to please my celestial mother and stave off Demetri without destroying everything. And have I mentioned my mom and Tad have all but blinked poor Misty out of the picture? My mother doesn’t want any more kids. She said so herself this morning! Everything is goingwaythe hell off the rails, Logan. This has never happened on a light drive before. We can’t just change things. Remember? And I don’t even know what that means anymore because it certainly doesn’t feel true.”
He presses his lips tight. “Oddly enough, I think we might be changing things.”
The panic building in my chest is enough to stop every beating heart in the vicinity. Everything is falling apart, and I’m the reason why. Sure, Logan is equally guilty here, but since it’s my mother who orchestrated this whole temporal disaster, I feel like I’m wearing the captain’s hat on this sinking ship.
Logan reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Something needs to be done.”
“And do you know what that is?” I ask, looking into his eyes and seeing my own desperation reflected back at me.
He gives a slow blink. “Screw the anchor. We need to get back to Whitehorse, to a future we belong in. This little experiment is over.”
“Agree. Let’s go.”
