Celestra Forever After (27 page)

“Did you ever figure out why Wes and Gage look like they could be long lost twins?” I tip my soda at Barron before taking a sip. There’s no way I want to linger on the topic of Skyla and Gage getting their groove on.

“Who’s Wes?” Emma’s face smooths out, and I catch that look in my brother’s eye that says
good going, moron
. I guess he hasn’t run this by his wife yet.

“A young man came by the morgue the other day.” Barron shoots me a flaccid smile. “He’s interested in a formula Ezrina is working on.”

“Which is?” I don’t mean to steer the conversation away from Wes, but, then, this has everything to do with him. Plus I’m dying to know, no pun intended.

Barron waves his hand. “Something to do with removing genetic markers.”

“Removing genetic markers?” I look to Liam.

“Maybe he wants to convince his ex that’s he’s a changed man.” Liam bites the steak off his fork and chews wildly. “Physically speaking, not a Count or a Fem.”

I shake my head. “Doesn’t make sense. Laken is done with him. Any idiot can see that. Besides he is a Fem. He’s lower than a snake on the ground.” He’s lucky Bishop is there to morph into anyone he pleases.

“A Fem.” Emma closes her eyes a moment too long. “Excuse me, but why would a Fem have morphed into Gage’s likeness?” She dives for her glass before pouring water down her throat. It’s obvious I’ve just rattled Emma, and, now, I feel like a piece of crap for bringing it up.

“To get into Skyla’s pants.” Liam deadpans.

Of course.

Oh shit.

Barron and I exchange a quick look.

But Skyla would know the difference, wouldn’t she?

Something’s not right. Wes has spent his whole life walking around with those dimples, that dark head of hair. He’s two years older than Gage.

Wait a minute.

What if…

Oh fuck.

8

Smooth Operator

Skyla

Before my eyelids ever open, I feel his body in mine, moving, writhing over me smooth and easy. I let out a groan as I struggle to rouse. It’s bliss like this with Gage. Waking with him by my side, over me, his lips peppering my face with early morning kisses. I pry my lids open and give a sleepy grin just as his fingers dip down to my erogenous zone and work their magic. The framing of his face looks slightly unfamiliar, his black locks traded for warm honey. My lids spring wide. My hands fly to his chest as Marshall pants over me with a lazy smile blooming on his lips.

“
Marshall!
” I sit up and smack Gage in the face with a crisp morning slap. “Oh, it’s you!” I touch my hand to my chest. “Thank God.” I pull him back into me with a violent yank.

“If you’re trying to kill my hard-on, you’re doing a great job.” He laughs through his kiss. I’ve filled Gage in on the nightmares I’ve been having about Marshall. Well, I’ve sort of filled him in. I let him know I was being chased by the naughty Sector. I might have left out the part where he speared me with his penis sword time and time again. Some things should never be spoken.

“Let’s see if I can’t bring it back to life,” I tease, pulling him in close while cinching my legs around him.

“What do you know?” His chest rumbles with a laugh. “I never lost it.” Gage pushes into me gently. We resurrect the morning with a frenzied rapture that has nothing to do with Marshall and everything to do with Gage and his perfect body molding to mine, raking over me in a fit of passion that leaves the butterfly room in flames.

An hour later we race to the dock where we watch the early ferry leave without us which causes me to be a few minutes late for the class I have with none other than the penis sword wielder himself. I take my seat next to Laken and spend the next several minutes shooting Marshall the stink eye. It was one thing to have him defiling me nightly when I was quasi-single, but now that I’m Mrs. Gage Oliver, it feels fifty shades of wrong. He was a no-show Monday and Wednesday so his T.A. force-fed us a dry lecture. If he wasn’t here today I would have sought him out to make sure Chloe hadn’t nailed him to a tree at West. I would have checked on him earlier, but, in truth, I wasn’t in a hurry to let Marshall in on my matrimonial secret.

I glance over at Laken who’s contently jotting down notes. It’s been killing me all week not to say a word to anyone. I’m sure Laken would be more than happy for me if she knew, and I’m pretty sure she’d be the last person to rat me out to my mother or Emma, so I go for it.

I lean in and whisper, “Gage and I eloped.”

“Skyla!” She pulls back, her eyes wide with surprise. “Congratulations!”

We share our restrained enthusiasm a moment. I had to tell somebody. I’m just bursting at the seams. It’s as if I found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and I can’t share the riches with my family and friends like I want to.

After a long, droning hour slugs by, the class wraps up, and Marshall glares in my direction.

“Ms. Messenger—may I see you a moment?”

“He doesn’t look happy.” Laken studies him with suspicion. I’d better fill her in on my bizarre relationship with
Professor Dudley
before she accidentally involves the authorities.

“He’s harmless. Trust me.” He’s still glaring, totally not helping the cause. “I’ll just be a second.”

I trot over to my spirit spouse, fully ready and willing to tell him about the real deal. I’ve got a shiny new covenant, and I’m not afraid to flaunt it.

“You wed Jock Strap.” His eyes meet mine. A fine oscillating rhythm takes over, and my vision begins to wobble.

“God, you’re sending your vibrations right through my eyes,” I marvel. “Are you that pissed?”

“No.” He averts his gaze a moment. “I’m not angry with you, Skyla. I knew this was coming. But something additional has occurred, something that cannot be revoked in any manner with the exception of death.”

“I know all about that ‘til death do us part stuff although, technically, I don’t remember hearing it.”

“It doesn’t matter, those are the bylaws of the covenant.” He leans in, his brows peaking in the center. “Don’t you see? Death is our only hope now—there’s no escaping this matrimony without it.”

“What the heck are you babbling about? I’m not hoping for death—quite the opposite.” I gently take hold of his arm. “Marshall, please don’t hate Gage. It’s hard for me to hear you say these things. I’m in
love
with him.” I glance around before leaning in and whispering, “He’s my husband now. What we have is real and everlasting. Besides, I’ve already made up my mind. I’m going to do everything in my power to keep him alive as long as possible. I hate death. What I went through with Logan was the worst feeling in the world. I’m not strong enough to do that again.”

“You must and you
will
.” He snaps his briefcase shut, staring down at the burgundy leather as if he were about to set it on fire with the rage percolating in his eyes. “Skyla, we’ve been infiltrated. Once it comes to light what’s happened”—he straightens, losing his gaze out the window at the rolling thick lawns—“I’ll be here for you. I vow to see you through this.”

My heart thumps into my throat.

“See me through what?”

The muscles in his jaw pop as he zips out the door in a fury, his large, boxy frame, striding farther away as if he had a mission to fulfill, and there was no room for delay.

Truthfully, I don’t know what the hell he was talking about, but I do know that it must be hard for him now that I’m with Gage—in every intimate way imaginable. I’m sorry I hurt him. More than anything I would never want to bring Marshall an ounce of pain.

I speed out into the thick, blooming fog. It’s as if white-feathered plumes had erupted all over campus after a celestial pillow fight. Laken is nowhere to be seen. I’m sure she’s off to her next class, but there’s still so much more I want to tell her.

Marshall’s psychobabble replays in my mind. What did he mean by infiltrated? It almost sounded sexual. But, then again, everything sounds deliciously sexual these days. Gage bristles to the surface of my mind, our bodies moving in time, those heated kisses—and a tiny giggle bubbles in my chest.

A thought comes to me, and I straighten. Maybe I should have Marshall lay out the parameters of our spiritual nuptials? Maybe his mind has been infiltrated with unwanted visions of Gage and me going at it? No wonder he’s so violently pissed at my new husband. He’s seen the package Gage is sporting and now is forced to alter his nickname to double-extra-
large
Jock Strap. Really, he’s inhuman in every way possible.

A dark-haired boy with a familiar frame bumps into me from nowhere, and everything in me warms at the sight of him.

“Thank God, you’re here!” I snatch Gage and pull him behind the Student Union. “This morning has been a real mind fuck—excuse my French.” I try to shake all thoughts of Marshall and his warped sense of humor out of my mind. “You know what I really need?” I pull him deeper into the shadows and then start in with my assault. I land my lips hard over his and ride my leg up his thigh.

“Skyla, wait.” He pushes me back with a laugh buried in his throat.

“That’s the point. We’re married now. We’re done waiting, remember?” I jam my tongue so far down his throat, he gives a hard groan.

Skyla!
He turns his face, and I use my Celestra strength to snatch him by the chin and meet my lips again. Gage holds the scent of a stronger cologne than I’m used to him wearing, musk with a sharp bite of pine, and I can’t decide whether or not I like it.

“God, I love it when you struggle.” I’m sure that’s all kinds of twisted, but, holy hell, it’s hot. I don’t know what kind of newly imparted moral code Gage has against making out on campus. It’s been our MO ever since we arrived at Host—hell, while we were at West, but—

“I don’t know about his moral code either.” He turns his head, and I pepper kisses all the way down his neck. “Why don’t you go ask him?”

I give a dull laugh, slipping my hand down the back of his jeans.

“A little role play, huh?” It looks like I get another shot at being the home-wrecking whore.

“Skyla, I’m not Gage. It’s me, Wes.”

Gah!
I jump back like leaping out of a fire. The only home-wreaking whore around here is him. Only he wasn’t actually instigating anything.

Just crap.

I don’t know what’s worse, kissing Wes, or having to confess it to Gage later.

“Congratulations on your wedding.” His eyes ride over me, tired and slow. “It must feel pretty great to be with the person you love.”

A tiny part of me hurts for Wes, but then I remember he’s wicked and that Laken gave him the finger for a good reason.

I take him in. Wes is downright regal—his face an exact replica of the man I love. Dear God. I shake my head. The evergreens move lethargic behind him, submerged in the fog just enough to make them look like a dream. For whatever reason this moment is imprinting itself in my mind. Other than the color of his eyes he’s my Gage, and this rattles me, tosses my sanity around like those maple leaves doing cartwheels over the lawn.

“It didn’t have to be like this,” I whisper. Laken made it clear that night on Rockaway why she’s no longer with him. “Wes, you chose the Counts over love.” He made it easy for her. But Cooper is a great guy, and if I had anything to do with destiny, I’d pair her with Coop every single time.

“I had a higher calling, Skyla.” He takes a step forward and bears into me with those ivy-green eyes. “If you had to choose between the greater good of Celestra or loving someone, what would you do?” He starts to walk away. “Your life has changed, Skyla. But not in the traditional way that marriage changes you. You chose love, Skyla. You made the decision Laken wasn’t able to.” He disappears into the fog, melting right along with it.

Of course, I’d choose the greater good of Celestra, but that’s a decision I’ll never have to make. Gage loves Celestra as much as I do. Choosing love was easy for me.

I shake my head in his wake. If anything, Wes and Chloe are the perfect pairing, and it makes me sick to my stomach that she’s “trapped” for all eternity with a Gage lookalike of all people. What the hell is wrong with my mother, anyway? What kind of punishment does Chloe truly have if she’s teaching cheer on Paragon? Sleeping with fake Gage, night after night, in the Transfer?

I glance up at the strawberry pink sky, the clouds heavy, pregnant with our next storm.

“We need to talk, Mother. Do you hear me?”

A crackle of lavender lightning goes off in a spiral, right over campus, causing a group of girls to scream in the distance.

“Sooner than later,” I say, making my way to my next class.

Something is definitely off.

Marshall seems to know. Chloe knows, too. Wes just spoke in a circle, so I’m betting he knows, as well.

I’m damn sure my mother knows.

And, in keeping with tradition, I’ll be the last to know anything.