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Authors: Addison Moore

BOOK: Expel
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“Yes,” Mom straightens in her seat. “I found it in the parking lot at the mall, so technically I picked it up there.” She squints into the infinity symbol gleaming under the light.

Tad presses out a look of relief just knowing his hard earned dollars weren’t spent on something foolish like bejeweling his wife.

I have a feeling she picked it up all right, right out Demetri’s evil paws.

The infinity symbol gleams, the gold floss is lit up like fire from the lights above.

Infinity. I bet Demetri really does want to live and rule forever, crush Marshall and the rest of the Sectors with the heel of his cloven hoof for an
infinity
.

Something surges in me, and I feel protective towards Marshall, the entire human race.

To hell with Demetri and his fantasies.

The only infinite thing he’ll have to look forward to, is my wrath.
 

 
 

Chapter 24

Forever

 

 

After school on Monday, under a smooth charcoal sky, Gage announces he has a surprise for me.

I climb into his truck and watch Paragon glide by in a whirl of viridian and sage, an entire kaleidoscope of dark green glory parades past us at dizzying speeds. That’s what it felt like traveling into the future, the push of the world exploding in one dark blur, wrapped safe in Logan’s arms as we waited with bated breath for some new revelation. That’s what it’s like right now with Gage, although miles safer, and without the prospect of death staring me in the face once we arrive to our destination. At least I hope.
 

Nevermore glides over us as though he were leading the way. I wonder if Nev could protect me from Ezrina? If he would want to?

I take Gage up by the hand. Going anywhere with him is heaven.

Gage picked me up for school for the first time in ages this morning. Everything feels normal again, right—everything except for the fact that Logan is really dead, but I push that away for now. It’s far too painful to contend with.

“So where we going?” I admire him from an arms’ length. He’s got on a leather jacket, the scarf his mother knit for Christmas sits nestled around his neck. The stubble on his cheeks has filled in, giving him that outdoorsy appeal which I find dangerously hot. I’m not sure I like him looking like he could start a forest fire, especially not with Chloe haunting the corridors of West, even if she is spraying Ethan openly with her venomous pheromones.

“Consider yourself officially kidnapped,” it rumbles out of him in one husky growl. His lips turn up as he steals a quick glance.

“It sounds like you’re being a very bad boy.” I reach over and run my fingers through his hair, touch the freshly shorn bristle against the back of his neck, smooth in one direction, sharp as a cats tongue in the other.

He gives an impish grin and points over the steering wheel before making the turn.

“Rockaway!” I bounce in my seat. I’ve been dying to come back ever since we shared a special moment here, and I officially declared it our place. The beauty of the landscape alone takes my breath away.

We park close to the succulent covered path that spreads its swollen leaves towards shore. I jump out of the truck, pluck my shoes off and race into the midnight colored sand. “This is amazing!” I shout up over the deafening waves, my feet sinking in the cold grit beneath me.

Gage tweaks his brows. A seductive smile plays on his lips as he tosses a thick blanket over his shoulder. He swoops in on me like an eagle darting for prey, scoops me up in his arms and sinks a kiss on my lips before breaking out into his signature killer grin.

“Put me down,” I protest. “You’re going to hurt yourself.” God forbid
I’m
the reason Gage ends up supine in a hospital bed.

“No way,” he trots us down the beach towards an ancient coral tree with a wingspan that stretches out for what feels like miles. Its bright red trumpets dance against the ashen sky, taunting it with the blush of a sunset that Paragon may never know or see.

Gage lands me soft on the ground before laying out the blanket.

“For you.” He pats a seat beside him, and I hop dutifully across from him.

Gage leans in and indulges me on the pleasure of his mouth, drowns out the waves, the wind, the rattle of leaves up above until all I hear is his erratic breathing, his heart racing over mine.

“Boy,” I whisper, “I think you’re setting the record for best Valentine’s do-over, ever.” Chloe errantly wafts through my mind. She’s become the tick feeding off the blood supply of our love.

“I try,” he huffs a little laugh. “Actually,” he picks up both my hands, “you make it very easy.” He drills into me with his iridescent gaze and everything in me surrenders.

I love you, madly
, I smile into him as I say it.

Gage tilts his head, doesn’t respond. He twists his lips as though he were about to say something.

“You didn’t hear me.” I can’t hide my disappointment.

“I can’t hear you,” he confesses it soft as an apology.

“I’ll give you more blood. You’ll heal faster—you’ll be Celestra for a time, like me.” Being Celestra has been mostly a curse, but the benefit of going back and seeing my father makes every heartache tolerable. I’d walk a burning tightrope each day just to see my father’s smiling face, some days I have.

“No,” he shakes his head, taking me in with his unwavering heavy gaze. “I would never hurt you or take advantage of you that way. I’m healing fine, I promise. I’m OK.”

Gage gets on his knees and digs around his pocket.

“Protection?” I ask playfully. As much as I’d love to give myself fully to Gage, the idea still scares the hell out of me. Ironic, since I can battle Fems, work side by side with Ezrina, and live under Tad’s tyranny, and yet I freeze solid as a statue at the thought of lying naked under the covers with my boyfriend. It’s what comes after that has me afraid. What will become of the old us, and who will this new us be. I’m sure Gage will be more than happy to walk me through it when the time is right.

“You’re close. It starts with P.” His dimples twitch. “Present,” he says, pulling his hand out of his jeans in a closed fist. “Close your eyes.”

I do as I’m told—giddy at the thought of what it might be. Gage gives the best gifts. He gave me his class ring, which I still wear faithfully on a chain, never, ever taking it off. He gave me the sweetest bracelet for Christmas. I love it so much I don’t even care that I’ve snagged just about every sweater I own with it. I’d gladly trade my entire wardrobe for any token of Gage’s affection.

“OK, open.” He exudes a serene grin as he holds his hand out.

A simple silver band sits nestled in his palm. There’s a blue heart set in the middle of the ring the exact same hue as his eyes, and I’m instantly in love.

“Gage,” I gasp. “It’s beautiful!”

“Skyla,” he breathes my name in a broken whisper.

Oh my, God.

I think Gage is about to propose. This is
huge
, monumental even. I should totally get my phone out and record this or something.

A gust of wind kicks up the sand, slapping it against our flesh like a thousand pressing pins.

Gage nudges the blanket out from underneath us and hooks it onto a pair of adjacent tree limbs, building a cozy fort for the two of us. Just enough light filters in, creating the perfect romantic environment. Mother nature may have wanted us to abdicate the throne of our love, but we overcame the obstacle just the way we always do.

“I love this ring,” I say, crawling into his lap.

“I had it engraved.” He glints it into the light.

“What does it say?” I’m dying to snatch it from him and squeeze it with all my affection, but he holds it between the two of us like an offering.

“It says,” he whispers, pulling me in by the waist, “Gage loves Skyla, Forever.”

My heart melts when he says it.

He slips it over the ring finger of my left hand, smiles down at me with heartfelt affection—a poem written on his lips.

“Is this a promise ring?” I pet it soft with my fingers. It’s so beautiful it glows, just like Gage and his love for me.

“It’s, an, I’m-going-to-love-you-forever ring.” He bears into me intently, lets me know he means it from the deepest part of him.
 

I take in a breath and hold it.

Gage is going to love me forever. Tears filter to the surface, and I blink them away, unaware of their origin, not wanting to delve too far into my emotions to figure it out.

“I’m going to love you, forever, Gage,” I say it like a promise. I pull him in and offer a kiss that resonates my feelings exactly. This is one commitment I never intend on breaking.

Gage lies me down in the sand, lands over me gently without crushing me with his full weight. I giggle into him, happy to be here, be anywhere with Gage—our tongues intertwine in one lusty exchange. I reach up under his shirt and run my hands over his firm body. I can feel his heart race as his love pulsates in and out of his chest for me.
 

It’s going to be like this always—unfettered emotions, unbridled, passion. Something in this moment solidifies us, magically transforms the two of us into one spiritual entity. I can feel the bonding of our souls, our destinies converging onto the same narrow path. We have our entire lives to look forward to.

We linger in soft easy kisses that go on—forever.
   

 

Chapter 25

The Psycho and Me

 

 

That evening, long after Gage drops me off at home, Tad cages me in the family room and paces the floors like an expectant father, waiting for Dr. Booth to arrive.

“Relax, will you?” My mother scolds, losing herself in her knitting. She circles yarn around her finger aggressively, plucking miles off the skein as she observes his odd behavior from the couch.

Melissa postures herself in defiance. “He’s just excited that the shrink is on his way over to finally figure out what the hell’s wrong with Skyla,” she scoffs, bypassing us on the way to the kitchen.

Mia openly glares at me as if I represented everything that was defective with this family when we both know damn well it’s Melissa she’s pissed off at.

“Melissa,” my mother tries to disguise the disdain in her voice. I can tell Mom has just about had it with the entire Landon lot. Although, if the alternative is having us shack up with Demetri and trying to make me call him
daddy
, I’ll cling to the Philistines of this household like a life raft.

A bold knock explodes over the door, and moments later, Tad shepherds Dr. Booth into the room.

“Skyla!” He comes over and shakes my hand.
This will be interesting
, he nods into me as he says it.
 

“Please, sit,” Tad pulls a chair from the dining room table and speeds it over. Obviously he has his hopes pinned on a speedy incarceration. Bastard.

“Thank you,” Dr. Booth takes a seat across from me while Tad lingers by his side like his own personal caddy.

“Can I get you a drink?” Tad bows slightly. “Some warm tea, perhaps?”

God, I hate it when Tad gets all overly nice. It oozes of fake affection. Dr. Booth should incarcerate
him
for the sole purpose of trying to impersonate a human.

“No, no, thank you.” Dr. Booth gives an uncomfortable smile before redirecting his gaze. “Skyla, your family requested we have an informal meeting to discuss the direction of your treatment.”

“Direction?” As in game over, I want to add, but don’t.

Mia and Melissa cower next to the refrigerator in hopes Mom and Tad will forget they’re in the vicinity, thereby eavesdropping with greater efficiency. I don’t care. I don’t have a single thing to hide.

“It’s been brought to my attention, via your parents,” his gaze cuts over to Tad, totally ratting out the parent in question. Ha! I love Dr. Booth. He’s so on my side. “That you have been blurting things out that don’t necessarily lend themselves to the conversation.” He nods as though I should acknowledge this on some level.

“Only because, sometimes it’s necessary,” I give a curt nod back, knowing full well he can decode the meaning. As a Celestra, part of the deal is having lopsided conversations. It’s practically an occupational hazard.

Dr. Booth frowns. “I’m afraid in this society, it’s inevitable. We all have a mishap or two.”

“Mishap or two?” Tad balks. He repositions himself to better fit in Dr. Booth’s visual field. “She has outright lost her mind. The girl speaks and answers people without the proper initiation. She’s fried her brains out on all those illegal substances she’s been peddling. And, don’t deny it, Lizbeth. You can’t deny the fact she was the center of a drug bust a few weeks back and you and I are both lucky all they wanted was a little community service. We could have lost our shirts if that gravy train of hers didn’t step up and offer to post bail.”

I huff a laugh at the thought of Logan as my gravy train. And it so wasn’t my pot, well, technically it was on my person, but still.

“This is not a laughing matter, young lady,” Mom’s voice is sharp as an arrow.

An angry growl of thunder goes off overhead and the lights blink on and off.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I wasn’t trying to laugh. I’m nervous—and I thought of something funny that happened at school today.” I don’t know why I didn’t just tell them the truth—that I was laughing at Logan as my gravy train. I suppose because it’s my kneejerk reaction to run away from the truth whenever my mother is involved. Unfortunately, I think I’ve rewired my brain into believing it’s OK to feed her a steady stream of bullshit whenever possible. “I’m sorry that I spoke out of turn,” I glare at Tad when I say it. “And I’m sorry about the pot bust.” The only thing I’m really sorry about is my mother’s serious misfortune of hooking up with Tad.
 

Another crackle of thunder rattles the house, shakes the windows within an inch of their fortitude.

Tad waves off my apology. “It’s getting late. Perhaps this would be a good time to introduce the new avenue of treatment.”

Good God they’re going to strap me to a metal gurney and blitz me with electrodes. I’ll be set on fire from the
inside
. I bet this has been Tad’s evil plan all along.

“We would like to introduce a low dose of medication,” Dr. Booth intercedes. “Something to take the edge off of everyday life—something that might help you relax.”

“Like how relaxed?” I envision myself as a zombie, complete with fried hair and missing teeth.

Dr. Booth shakes his head with a defeated look on his face as though Tad strong-armed him into this.

“It’s a tranquilizer, Skyla,” Tad bellows. “It’ll make you feel high as a kite. I’m sure you’ll be clamoring for more the minute you feel the fabulous side effects. And don’t get any big ideas like pushing the stuff for profit. I’m picking up the ticket on this one with my own cold hard cash.”

Funny how fast his wallet flies open when it comes to doping me with antipsychotics.

“Your mother and I will be dispensing the medication ourselves.” Tad folds his arms across his chest.

Perfect. I foresee an accidental overdose in my near future.
 

“Mom, are you OK with this?” I’m shocked that she’s just sitting there maneuvering those knitting needles as though she were training to place for speed and agility in the knitting Olympics. I’d like to pluck one of those slender spikes from her hands and impale Tad in the eye.

“You gave us no choice.” She ceases all movement abruptly, scowling when she loses her place. She loops yarn around her finger in swift hostile movements before continuing with the knitting offensive taking place in her lap. If she keeps this up, she’ll disembowel herself without the aid of Paragon’s own corpse practitioner—Chloe.

Dr. Booth hands Tad a prescription before rising to his feet.

“Can I have a word with you in private?” I ask, ushering the good doctor to the entry.

I open the door and we step out into the icy night air, the awning just barely covering us from the downpour that’s unleashed itself over the island.

“I’m sorry, Skyla. He left me no choice. He threatened to have my practice overrun with state regulators. It was the least I could do to get him off my back.”

“What about the zombie pills?” I bounce on my toes in a panic.

“I’ll call tomorrow and ask your mother to bring the bottle down to my office for inspection. I’m a stickler for accuracy.” He winks. “I’ll replace the medication with a placebo, they’ll be none the wiser.”

“You’re a genius!” I jump up and hug him.

“No more one-sided conversations young lady. And stay away from illegal substances.” He flicks his wrist and his umbrella blooms in one giant burst.

“I have a perfectly good explanation for that,” I say.

“You always do,” he gives a sly smile before disappearing behind a curtain of water.

Thank God I’ve got Dr. Booth on my side. If he were really the staunch asshole Tad wishes he were, zombie state or not—I’d be locked up for good.

Skyla
.

A voice echoes through the rain, carries unnaturally like the long chord of cymbal with its perpetual steady sizzle.

I don’t need a face, an effigy or even a shadow to place the voice. I know exactly who that is.

I jump into the house and lock the door.

It’s the last person in the world I want to see tonight—Ezrina.

   
 
   
 
  
   

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