Celestra Forever After (40 page)

Ellis looks beyond hurt. He looks mortally wounded, and I’m half afraid to tell him the nightlife on Host is halfway decent—if you’re a student that is.

“Don’t feel bad. The parties on Host suck.” I hike my arm around his shoulder while trying to manufacture a single reason why this might be. “I mean, they’ve got
blue
Solo cups for Pete’s sake.” Seriously? That’s all I’ve got?

His chest rattles with a dull laugh. “Effing amateurs, dude.”

“I knew you’d think so.” I pull him in and give him a hug. “We need you to save us, Ellis. So what do you say? Will you come to Host?”

“Nah. I got the bowling alley to run. Plus it keeps me close to G.” A goofy grin spreads over his face at the mention of Giselle. They’re so in love, it’s beautifully sick.

“Speaking of G, keep it in your pants or the G-man is going to rip you a new one. That’s Gage by the way. And you can thank me anytime you want for sparing him of the things Giselle says you’re ready to do to her.”

“Got it. Keep it G.” His face flushes as if his balls were genuinely grateful—as they should be. He picks up speed and before I know it, we’re twisting and turning up the street.

“Where are we headed?” I ask. Ellis acts as if he knows this island like the back of his hand.

“I’ve got the solution to your problems, Messenger.” An easy grin slides over his face. “My dad owns half this island. In fact, I’ve got a crap load of vacancies I need filled right here.”

Ellis pulls me across the street, and we land in front of an overgrown clapboard apartment complex that looks as if a bomb went off inside and blew out half the windows.

“What is this, a meth lab?” I’m hopeful.

“No, dude. It’s your new home.” He slings his arm over my shoulder. “
This
is my father’s apartment building.”

“Oh crap,” I whisper, looking at the rundown facility. The paint is chipping so bad you’d think the entire building had suffered a third degree burn. A few windows have a huge spider-webbed bulls-eye through them as if they’ve taken a bullet, and, to add a touch of class, tinfoil lines the inside.

“I know, dude.” Ellis slaps me on the back. “This is the shit!”

“It is shit, Ellis. Your dad is a slumlord. There’s no way I’m living here.”

“First month is free.”

“Great. Where do I sign?”

Now that Gage and I will have a place of our own, I can finally get around to telling my mother the big news—and his mother. My stomach sours at the thought of telling Emma she’s stuck with me as a daughter-in-law. It sucks to not feel wanted.

A loud bang goes off deep in the heart of the dilapidated building, and it sounded alarmingly like a gunshot.

I look up at Ellis.

“Crazy kids.” He waves it off as if it were an everyday occurrence—and I get the feeling it is. “I’ve got a second story unit that’s partially furnished. I had the sheriff serve the eviction notice just as the loser hauled out his bed.”

“Nice,” I muse while trying not to stare at the seedy characters hovering around the lip of the building like protective gargoyles. Three guys with dark hooded sweatshirts huddle at the base of the steps and look as if they’re ready to shake down anybody brave enough to enter. “Why, yes, Ellis—I
do
have mace in my purse.” I reason out loud. Mostly the mace was for Chloe purposes, but now that she’s reached her full potential as a demon, I’m free to use it for the three douches dressed like death at the foot of the stairs.

“Dude, Gage will be with you all the time. Don’t you worry your pretty little head over it.” He points to a pile of junk sitting under a covered patio. “See that mattress over there?”

Oh, God, I don’t like where this is going.

“I know for a fact the chick that ditched it only used it for like a week. She quit school because she missed her boyfriend,” he whines, mocking her in the process. “Stiffed me an effin’ month’s rent.” He mumbles mostly to himself. “Come on, let’s haul that up to your new apartment, and you’ll be all set for tonight.”

“Ellis, I don’t know.” Just the thought of sleeping on a street mattress, covered with what I can only hope are juice stains, makes me throw up a little in my mouth.

“Stop being such a prima donna. This is the real world, Skyla. You don’t just get things handed to you.”

“Unless it’s a urine-soaked mattress and a month’s free rent,” I whisper that last part. I have no intention of letting Ellis know it’s doubtful we’ll be there longer than thirty days—I’m wondering if we’ll survive three.

A guttural thumping blares through the neighborhood as a garbled rap song pulsates from the walls.

“See? This place has soul, Skyla.” He pulls me in by the waist, never taking his eyes off his father’s inglorious slab of real estate. “It has a heartbeat.”

“It’s probably got head lice, too, but what the hell.” I give a little jump. “I have a feeling Gage, and I are about to have our honeymoon.” For thirty beautiful lice infested days.

The three faces of death turn to glare at us, and my blood runs cold.

A girl screams from inside one of the units, making the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

Yup, Gage and I are about to have our honeymoon for thirty dirty days—in the heart of hell.

But knowing Gage and his magical night moves, even this ramshackle salute to Hades will feel like paradise.

Gage

Rain slicks off my coat like a luge as I run up the steps to Dudley’s house. Not long after my first class, I walked right out and hopped on the next ferry back to Paragon. There’s no way I can keep my mind on anything other than Demetri’s cryptic words. Today I need answers more than I need credit for sitting in some classroom. I pump my fist against the door, and it takes a minute before it opens.

“Gage.” Ezrina stands there looking at me through Chloe Bishop’s eyes. It’s strange because even though I know its Ezrina, I still feel Chloe’s presence as if she had left more than her body to haunt me with here on Paragon. And, unfortunately for me, I might just see the real deal in a few minutes.

I step in and find Logan sitting with Nev.

“Rough night?” He growls it out. Logan doesn’t bother with hello. His clothes looked rumpled. His voice sounds like gravel, and he’s grumpy. I’m guessing he’s the one who had the rough night.

Nev narrows in on me. “He said there was a disgusting uproar at the Oliver residence last night. He refuses to elaborate.”

Shit.

“Nice,” I whisper. As if I didn’t feel like a jackass already for possibly housing Fem DNA in my body. “Look, I have to get to the Transfer. Anyone up for heading to hell for a few minutes?”

“To hell with you is right,” a voice booms from behind, and I turn to find Dudley standing there, dry as a bone. “You’re no longer welcome in my home, be gone.” He tosses up a finger as if to dematerialize me, but I hold out my hand, and a beam of light charges the space between us—nothing but a clean line of cobalt blue.

“Shit.” Logan jumps over the sofa and lands by my side. “How the hell did you do that?”

Nobody moves. Nobody breathes because I have a feeling everyone in this room knows exactly how I did that.

“So it’s true?” Logan’s jaw pops like he might kick my ass, and, swear to God, if it is true, I might just join him.

“It’s not true.” I choke on the words. “Let’s get to the Transfer and see what the hell Wes has to say. It’s obvious Demetri is playing with smoke and mirrors, and I want to know why.”

Logan holds his gaze to mine without saying anything for a minute.

“All right man.” He clasps his hand down over my shoulder and pulls me into a partial hug. “Let’s get some answers.”

Ezrina and Nev each place a hand on my back as if we were about to beg God, himself, for mercy over my soul. Dudley shouts something in another language, and the walls crumble—Paragon turns to ash and reconfigures itself as the dark underworld of the Transfer.

The lights are out in the long, white tunnel that once housed Ezrina’s chop shop. The dry desert landscape of the Transfer is blooming with a forest of tall, dark trees. Their nefarious bark is charred with red veining as if the roots were soaked in blood. The dilapidated mansion where Skyla was once held is overshadowed with a stone grey castle looming just behind it, eclipsing the mansion of its haunted glory.

Steel-colored vines coil around the base of the gargantuan structure with foot-long thorns spiking along the infernal plant. My eyes adjust to the dim light of the lavender moon, and the dappled spots that run along the border of the overgrown fortress come into focus as black roses.

“Garbage begets garbage,” Ezrina gravels out.

“Roses,” I whisper, staggering toward the monolithic tower. I’ve been dreaming of roses, seeing petals rain like blood from the sky, but I don’t say anything.

Dudley knots up the back of my shirt with his fist and propels us forward until we’re at the double doors that swing out like a pair of oversized coffins.

“Get the hell off.” I jam my elbow into his gut, and he groans.

Logan comes up beside me as we walk right into the dank establishment. “What do you know?” he whispers.

“I know I have some bogus DNA results that link me directly to that asshole.” I point over at Wesley who’s quickly making his way toward us—Chloe and her dark smile flank him on his right.

Wes doesn’t say a word. He stands square in front of me, and we exchange a death stare.

“Identical genetic markers?” Ezrina circles around Logan to get a better look at me.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Oh, Gage.” Chloe reaches for my cheek with those long, bony fingers.

“Don’t touch me.” I grit through my teeth, and she retracts her hand as if I had slapped her away.

“What do you know about this?” I ask the moron wearing my face. “It’s clear this is some cosmic joke your father decided to pull out of his ass. But what I don’t get is how both you and I fit into this picture.”

“You’re a little slow on the uptake aren’t you, little bro?” Wes twitches a smile.

“Oliver.” Dudley moans as if he were desperately sorry. He places his hand on my shoulder from behind. “Do what’s best and part from Skyla immediately.”

Little bro. Part from Skyla. The words rattle through the air like a dead man’s bones.

“Gage”—Chloe closes in the gap between Wes and me, but I don’t take my eyes off the bastard—“I’ve got your back. It will never matter to me that you are a Fem.”

A Fem. Her words wash over me, welcome as a blowtorch. My mind explodes in a flurry as if she had just kicked in a beehive. Voices resonate around me at once, and I can’t make them out, can’t understand what the fuck anybody is saying.

Wes and those electric green eyes stay posted on mine, and I lunge past Chloe and wrap my hands around his neck. Only one thing can make this nightmare go away—ending the day with the blood of this monster on my hands.

I knock him to the ground and thrash his skull into the stone covered floor.

Arms snatch at me, trying to loosen me off his person, but my fingers dig into his flesh. His eyes bulge like grapes. His grimace tightens as I watch this perverse version of myself succumb to my own rage.

“Leave them be.” A voice resonates through the chaos, cuts right through to my bones—Demetri.

I thrash Wes to the floor so hard his head gives a satisfying bounce. I climb to my feet, and Wes does the same as the two of us focus in on the demon before us.

Demetri bleeds a slow smile as if he were pleased with the scene.

I try to jump forward in an effort to kick the shit out of the bastard, but Logan holds me back.

“What the
fuck
is going on!” I roar it out like a lion on fire, and my voice echoes through this wicked chamber as if we were locked in the bowels of hell itself.

Demetri jerks his head back a notch, that shit-eating grin still playing on his lips. “Denial only prolongs the inevitable. You know exactly what’s happened.”

I shake Logan off and turn toward Ezrina. “Could he have faked the genetic markers?”

She lowers her lids to the floor. Her shoulders slump with defeat. “Never.”

“Then it’s true?” I ask, but Ezrina has clammed up for now. Dudley catches my eye, and a thought comes to me. My heart soars because a ray of light just blew through it. “Dudley would never have let me near Skyla if this were true. It’s got to be a joke—some elaborate scheme to— ” I look over at Dudley, and he lifts his chin.

“I’m sorry, Oliver. This has been withheld from me for a reason. There’s nothing more I’d care for than to tell you this were not so.”

“Chloe?” I turn to her in a moment of madness and despair. “Tell me it’s not true.”

Her eyes widen. That dark hair she wears like a curtain blows back as if she’s claiming dominance.

I charge at Demetri with my hands ready to wrap around his dead little neck, and the Transfer and all of its wickedness dissolves in an instance.

Logan

The bowling alley holds a distinct odor that’s about as pleasant as a locker room filled with sweaty gym socks.

“Dude.” I shake Gage by the arm to bring him to. His face is bleached out, his eyes fixed ahead as if he’s turned to stone. “We’re back on Paragon—at the bowling alley. Just like old times, right?”

He nods toward the entrance as Brielle bops in with her hair swinging in a ponytail. She’s high on life, per usual.

“My two favorite guys!” She runs at us a million miles an hour and tackle hugs us at the same time. “Well, technically, Drake and Beau are my two favorite guys but you two are old school that way.” She relents from her stranglehold and looks at Gage. “Where’s Skyla? Or should I say
Mrs. Oliver
?” She jumps back with her hand over her mouth like she might have let the cat out of the bag.

“It’s okay, I know. I’m happy about it, too.” And I mean it from the bottom of my heart. I spot Ellis trekking in from the rain as he takes over the counter. Personally, I’m shocked as hell that Harrison has proven so damn responsible. And with Giselle bringing in over half of West Paragon after school, this place is finally starting to break even. Who knew that Ellis and Giselle would be the shot in the arm this place needed? “What’s new with you?” I try to take the weight off what just happened by focusing on Bree. God knows she’s chock full of goofy news.