Celestra Forever After (7 page)

“Mr. Oliver.” Marshall tips his chin, holding back that shit-eating grin. “There seems to be a clerical error. I’m afraid you’ve been scheduled to take this course in the next hour with Professor Lowery. That being said, you’re welcome to sit in for the time being if it pleases you.”

“And there’s that.” I close my eyes a moment.

“Pardon me, Ms. Messenger? Did you have something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

My eyes spring open only to find his hotter-than-hell eminence advancing in my direction.

“Here we go,” I whisper, digging my shoulder into Laken’s in a feeble attempt to take shelter.

“Let me make one thing clear to any of my previous students who think this is a game; I take the value of your educational experience quite seriously.” The muscles in his jaw pop, making him look that much more vexingly handsome. “Besides, if there is one subject I’m most passionate about it’s history.” His eyes flit to mine. “Let us not make the mistake of forgetting the past. If we fail to carefully examine the pitfalls of our predecessors, we will undoubtedly repeat them.” He takes a step toward me with total disregard for the girl he’s just penned in with his crotch. “Or, in some cases, it’s best we carefully examine the perils of yesteryear because we are destined to relive them.” His eyes fixate on mine as if he were in a trance. “We’re going back in time, Ms. Messenger.” He steps in, his careful attention pinned square on me. “There are still missions to accomplish, wrongs to right. A path has been cleared for that very purpose and this”—he holds up a mammoth textbook in his hand—“is our ammunition.” He narrows those strange auburn eyes over mine. “The first time it was happenstance—a journey through destiny, unavoidable, nothing but a burden on the backs of your people. But this time—it’s personal.”

You could hear a pin drop. Laken shudders, and I do the same.

Crap. Things are about to get personal all right.

An hour bleeds by as Marshall drones on about mundane things like the specs of the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria, the lack of food, and plague of death that overcame their passengers. For some strange reason I thought Marshall was going to take us all on one big light drive and show us how the West was won,
firsthand
. Thankfully no inter-dimensional fieldtrip ensued, and the class starts to drain without the post-traumatic stress that time travel could have caused.

I gloss over the notes I took. Of course, they have nothing to do with any of Marshall’s ramblings and everything to do with the factions. Now that I’m the overseer, I’d like a refresher on who’s who and what they’re capable of. It’s still hard to wrap my head around the fact there
are
Nephilim offspring that roam the earth in five angelic factions, let alone that I belong to one—that I won a war on behalf of Celestra.

Celestra

1.
Touch telepathy

2
. Strength, speed,
and, of course, the biggy that has the Counts panties in a celestial bunch,

3.
Time travel

Countenance

1.
Strength, speed.

2.
Greedy as hell.

Noster

1.
Strength, speed.

2.
See through walls.

3.
Teleportation.

4.
Levitate.

5.
The
gift of knowing
.

Deorsum

1
. Strength speed.

2.
Have the ability to influence people.

Levatio
I smile just thinking about my favorite Levatio, Gage.

1.
Strength, speed.

2.
Teleportation.

3.
Levitate.

4.
The gift of knowing.

Logan and I belong to Celestra. He had just enough Count in him to swear over to the dark side as a means to gain footing on the enemy, but that never really panned out—except for the fact he’s awaiting a resurrection at their hands—well, Ezrina’s hands if I have anything to say about it. Screw waiting for my mother and her
“in due time”
attitude. I want that boy back in his body yesterday. My mother gifted him a Treble, and it’s a great gift, but it’s no substitution for the real deal.

Laken glances at my notebook. “Going over the factions, huh? I doubt there’ll be a quiz on that.” She gives a little wink before gathering her things and rising.

“You’re right”—I say, scooping up my books—“but one thing I noticed, after jotting it all down, is the fact the Counts seem to be lacking in the abilities department.”

“Figures. All their demented ways stem from compensation issues.” We share a quick laugh. Laken is technically a Count, but she’s long since defected. “Coop and I have a class next hour. Are you free at noon?”

“Yeah, I’d love to meet up with you guys.” I stand and secure my backpack over my shoulders.

Laken plucks my cell phone out of my pocket and starts punching away.

She hands it back to me. “Now you’ve got my number.” She pinches a little grin before glancing over my shoulder, and that smile slides right back off. Her face bleaches out, pale as milk. “I have to go,” she stammers before bolting out the nearest exit.

A pair of sturdy arms wrap around my waist, warm and inviting.

“Looks like that was our first and last class together.” Gage peppers the side of my face with tender kisses, and I catch Marshall snarling briefly in our direction.

“Why don’t I catch up with you? I think I’d like to have a quick word with the one and only Professor on my shit list.”

“Tell him he’s at the top of mine, too.” Gage drops a kiss over my head before sailing out the door.

I glance around at the mostly empty room and make my way down.

“Well, if it isn’t my spirit husband.” I fold my arms across my chest. “What a surprise.” Marshall and I were married forever and a day ago in an ambush wedding he threw me. All of the angelic upper crust was in attendance but, nevertheless, our union was neither recorded by the state nor consummated.

“You mean your mother managed to hold back the inter-island gossip? I thought for certain once I let her in on my little academic advancement, she’d be quick to spread the good news.”

“She came close.” Lizbeth, the mother that raised me, is usually the first to tell me everything as opposed to my birth mother, Candace, who keeps all the important celestial tidbits close to the vest. “Turns out my mother is better at keeping things to herself than I gave her credit for.” Starting with the paternity of Misty. But this isn’t about my mother, or Misty. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” I lean in, holding those crimson eyes of his hostage with mine. “Or should I say a
boner
?”

He offers the hint of a lewd smile as his eyes hem me in with unrequited lust. “What is this ‘boner’ which you speak of?”

“Oh, you know darn well what it is. It’s that divining rod you keep in your pants. It’s been prone to wander into my dreams as of late, and I don’t appreciate it probing for wet zones, if you know what I mean.” My face flushes, and I can feel the heat spreading down through far more intimate places just thinking of where he put that damn divining rod last night.

Marshall barks out a laugh, so loud and unexpected, I swear it’s as if he has no clue what I’m talking about.

“Dreaming of greener pastures already are we?” He leers into me. “Word on the golden streets is you and Jock Strap have yet to enter into a proper carnal union.” He shakes his head. “It seems your subconscious is cheering you on to—how would you say? Skip to the good part.” His lips curve up one side as he presses in with that smug, cocky look.

“Trust me I am skipping to the good part. I’d let Gage have his way with me today if he pleases.” I toss a quick glance out the door, and that menacing dragon painted across the Student Union winks at me through the fog. “Anyway, you have to cut it out.” My voice squeaks. “I mean, I’ll admit you get me going, and it takes everything in me not to lose my mind during the day, but it’s a million miles from appropriate.”

His features smooth out. “What exactly is happening?”

“
You
. You’re invading more than my nocturnal space. You pop up uninvited, and we do it—
nightly
.” I smack him over the shoulder. “Knock it off. I have a boyfriend to sleep with and, newsflash, it isn’t you.” I turn to leave, and he lands a heavy hand over my shoulder.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to throw yourself at young Oliver. It sounds to me as if your body is rebelling—wishing you to rethink your carnal plan of action and turn your attention to someone far more equipped to give your flesh what it desires.” He leans in until his lips are just shy of my ear. “And, believe you me, there is no shortage of beautiful girls who desire my equipment.”

I close my eyes a moment. Marshall said he’d wait for me. My mother said we would be together in the end, that it would be Marshall who I would garner the most matrimonial years with. Gage first, then Logan for twice as long or more, then the sexed-up Sector who stands before me. But what my mother doesn’t know is that I’m more than driven to keep oxygen in Gage Oliver’s lungs, and, for damn sure, I’m going to keep that boy’s blood pumping in all the right places. My heart wrenches for Logan, and I push him to the distal part of my mind for a moment. I hate death for what it’s done to us.

“Line ‘em up”—I swallow hard at the thought of Marshall hitting the sororities while trolling for chicks, not that he has to troll—“take ‘em however you can get ‘em.” As much as it breaks my heart, the last thing I want is for Marshall to pine over me.

The only one I want pining over me is Gage Oliver. And I don’t care how many pieces my heart splinters into in an effort to hold onto Gage. I know that deep down inside Marshall and Logan will always have a special place in my life. But holding three hearts was the foolish game of my youth, and, now, the only game I’m willing to play is the one in which I keep Gage alive to a ripe, old age even if that’s not what destiny has laid out before us.

Screw destiny.

I say Gage lives. And I plan on paying a visit to my mother to discuss exactly how we can make this happen.

“Ms. Messenger?”

I turn to look at Marshall, and a small burst of light filters in through the windows, highlighting all his Sector glory. Marshall Dudley is a sight to behold.

“Yes, what is it?”

He gives the hint of a smile as he heads for the door. “Sweet dreams.”

Gage

The sun weaves in and out of the clouds as if it were peering down from the sky to check on the inhabitants every now and again. By the time lunch rolls around, the storm looks as if it’s back on again. Skyla and I grab a quick bite at the Chinese Express inside the cafeteria and head back out to the rolling lawns covered with students. I can’t shake this dream I had last night. I was falling headfirst into a never-ending hole while rose petals rained alongside me. The sensation of sailing down—ratcheting up speed with no sign of ever hitting the bottom—makes my head spin even now. Weird.

“I don’t get it.” Skyla wraps an arm around my waist, and I lean my head over hers a second. “I called Laken three times. She’s either lost her phone or she’s blowing me off.”

“I’m not so sure it’s you she’s blowing off. I’m pretty sure it’s me she’s trying to stay away from. I thought she was going to pass out at the sight of me. Her face turned white as a sheet.”

“Crap.” Skyla knocks her forehead into my chest. “I’m an idiot. Of course, she freaked out when she saw you. She probably thought you were Wes.”

“I felt pretty bad as soon as she took one look at me.” Wes is Laken’s ex, and he happens to be a mirror reflection of myself. “We’ve got until two. How about we head over and check out my dorm?” I haven’t so much as inserted the key in the lock since I took possession of it a few months back. As long as Skyla is still on Paragon, that’s where I’ll be. The truth is, I don’t want to be stuck on Host if Skyla is an entire island away.

“Let’s.” Her eyes glow, pale as the fog, and a fire rushes through me straight down to my aching balls.

We head into the West Building and Skyla points at the sign.

“Aptly named.” She pinches my waist. “And really—coed dorms? I’m disappointed in your mother.” She gives a little wink. We head on up, and I can’t help but notice the entire place holds the stench of stale chips and beer. “Smells like one of Harrison’s parties.”

“I miss Ellis.” A tiny smile plays in the corner of her lip. “We need to get him to Host.”

“He seems pretty happy logging hours down at the bowling alley.”

“Not to mention the hours he’s logging with Giselle.”

I try to push the idea of Ellis dating my sister out of my mind for now. I grew up with Ellis, and I’m up on every one of his stoner ways. He wouldn’t have been my first choice for Giselle, but, then, love is blind, and Giselle can’t see a damn thing with that drug-induced haze he’s encapsulated her in. Not that he’s doing any of that stuff around her. I’ve threatened him enough to make it clear she doesn’t get near it.