Elysian (64 page)

“That couldn’t scare me off. A baby was born. It was beautiful. One day Mystery will be at West, and, who knows, she might even end up dancing with some boy in the butterfly room after prom.”

“She’d better not.” I tweak his ribs, and his chest rumbles with a dry laugh.

“Regardless, she’s a miracle. And that’s no mystery.”

“I think you’re a miracle.” I lay my head over his chest as we start to sway. “Can you believe next fall we’ll both be at Host?” My stomach pinches at the thought. So much is changing so fast.

“That’s going to be amazing.”

We sway ever so slowly as our hips brush over one another.

“What do you think is going to happen tonight?” I whisper warm into his chest.

“I don’t know. But I’m willing to do anything to protect you and Logan.”

“You’re far too kind,” I say, looking up at him. “But, trust me, there’s nothing you can do. My mother isn’t exactly known for her mercy.” I slip my hands into his jacket, and Gage warms me like a heater. “I wish there was some way we could speed things along. I can’t wait to get to the bottom of this, to have some resolution for once. There’s no way she’s going to find Ezrina and Nev guilty, or Logan and me for that matter. The Counts’ wickedness precedes them. The Celestra tunnels are proof alone that they need to be stopped.”

“I might know a way to speed things along.” Gage lands a measured kiss over my temple, and it sears me to the bone with his undying affection. “I’m not sure if you’d be comfortable with it, but I’m pretty sure it’ll work.”

“What’s that?” I pull back and appraise him in the faint blue glow.

“Do you remember what launched us into the war nearly every single time?” His cheek digs in, and his dimple suctions deep as a bowl.

“Gage Oliver.” I bite down on a seductive smile. “Are you trying to get down and dirty with me?”

“I’m just saying, we could probably get your mother’s attention by kicking it old school,” he growls with a naughty look in his eye.

Oh shit. I give a little laugh before peeling off his jacket.

He moans into a kiss. “We’re going to change the world with our love, Skyla. I already know this.”

“We are?” It seems like such a tall order, like a curious choice of words, all together.

“We most definitely are.” Gage winces for a moment as if his words weren’t at all meant to be the cheerful battle cry I thought they were.

“Well…” I unbutton his dress shirt slowly only to discover he’s got a white T-shirt underneath, and I give a coy smile. “This might take a while.”

“Maybe we should speed things up?” He groans while riding his heated palms over my thighs.

I tip my head back with laughter.

“This is why I love you,” I purr.

“You love me?” He tilts in with a teasing smile. “I love you, too.”

Gage pulls me in by the cheeks and drops one luscious kiss over my mouth as if he were savoring his favorite dessert.

I rake his shirt open and the buttons fly off from the tension. I unbuckle his belt and pull his T-shirt off, scratching his flesh with my nails in the process. Gage reaches down and unties the bow on my hip. His dimples dig in as he looks right at me. He reaches for my hemline. His fingers tickle my thighs as he slowly lifts the dress right off my person. His gaze dips down and rides over my curves as he takes in my black lace bra, my barely-there G-string. My entire body flushes with heat having him examine me this way. It feels intimate, brazenly beautiful, and now the last thing I want is to see my mother tonight.

I jump up on his hips and devour him in a sea of sugared kisses that taste like the future—that taste like incredibly beautiful love.

The room gyrates around us, we sink into the floor like quicksand as Gage and I disappear.

The day Ezrina, Nev, Logan, and I have waited for has finally arrived.

Justice will be served.

And if not, I just might have to twist the hands of fate quite literally.

The heavens growl and hiss as Gage and I land safe on the grass of this questionable patch of paradise—me in a white robe with a gold sash and Gage with his T-shirt back on. I appreciate this small bit of mercy from my mother.

Ahava shimmers. Its bruised sky percolates with dense navy clouds, the nest of lightning snaps and crackles over the water as if picking up steam for a climax yet unseen.

My mother, Rothello, and the Marshall twins appear, standing in the center of the mirrored sheet of the lake. Off in the distance the waterfalls dull to a quiet roar.

Then one by one they appear, first Ezrina in her haggard state, then Nevermore as the raven he is today, then, like a much needed glass of water, Logan blinks by my side, and I wrap my arms around him, surprised by my own bitter tears.

“It’s OK.” He lands a kiss over the top of my head before pulling away and looking at my mother.

“Welcome.” It streams from her as if we were guests at some celestial dinner party. An intense gust of wind pushes through the vicinity, and her hair blows back, annunciating her carved features, her glowing eyes, and it sends an iced shiver through me.

Logan and Gage each take up one of my hands.

“Sector Marshall.” She no sooner spills his name than he materializes and takes his place by Ezrina’s side.

Ahava blooms with people. Ellis, and the girl I thought I killed in the war, Natalie, Pierce, Holden, Lexy, Chloe, Demetri—Cooper, Flynn, and Wesley. Every person alive and deceased who fought in the faction war appears among us, and before we know it, Ahava is filled with throngs of Nephilim beings.

This wasn’t the judgment I was expecting at all. For some reason I envisioned my mother stalling for years, for decades, as she twisted through each microcosm, sifted through every detail the faction war had to offer. But this is happening, and now I feel afraid like an animal who accidentally stepped into a box trap. Gage and I had done this, called ourselves to court, to the final battlefield of the war, and we didn’t even know it.

“Dearly beloved”—she expands her arms, and a pair of translucent wings bloom from over her shoulders, long and wide as doors, so achingly beautiful they pull me into a trance—“we are gathered here today to announce the victor in the war bequeathed in my daughter’s honor. Skyla, please step forward.”

I glance around, panning the area for my father.

“Excuse me,” I say timidly. “I think maybe Dad should be here, too.”

Rothello scoffs at my request. “Did she just request her daddy?” All of Ahava breaks out in titters as I glare over at him. Rothello’s long, dark hair falls in sheets over his face as he chortles along with the rest of the assembly.

“I requested my
daddy
because he helped strategize with Celestra,” I say it far louder and sharper than anticipated, and too bad if he didn’t like it because he just pissed the hell out of me. “And if you’re going to crown Celestra the victor, as you should”—I continue with my curt tone—“then he deserves to be here to see it.”

The crowd dies down, a few gasps go off in the distance as if what I had uttered, and the tone which I had said it in, were nothing short of blasphemy.

My mother nods. “I’m in agreement. Nathan, step forward.”

My father bristles out of the crowd and takes his place by my side. He clasps his hand over mine, and I give a gentle squeeze.

“I’m proud of you, Skyla,” he whispers. My father’s entire being radiates a comforting paternal love that I drink down like water. He’s his younger self here, almost entirely unrecognizable to me, but the tiny scar above his cheek remains, his blue-green eyes still twinkle with indescribable joy.

“Let us review the general course of warfare.” My mother glares over at me with a bleak look. “Eight victories belong to Countenance—three triumphs to Celestra.” The crowd booms enthusiastically, all Counts I assume.

I glance back at Logan and Gage. Logan shakes his head and holds up four fingers for a moment. He’s right. There were twelve regions.

“Excuse me,” I say over the noise of the crowd, and the volume decreases significantly. “I thought we took four?”  

My mother tilts into me with an ironic,
sarcastic
, nod.

“Regions one through eight were clear Countenance victories—be it through traditional warfare or by forfeit of the enemy.” She expands the girth of her wings as she inhales deeply. “Regions nine through eleven belonged to Celestra.”

“And the twelfth?”

“Ahava.” She takes a few steps forward in my direction. Every eye is on her beauty. Every beating heart has stilled to hear the words about to expel from her lips. “The sword of the Master.” She glances around at the crowd. “The war was judged by many merits, one of the most important being sacrifice. The three rounds forfeited by Celestra were done so out of mercy, thus effectively reducing their strength as justified victories.”

That still leaves the Counts with one extra win.

“But the final region, Ahava, called for a brave and mighty warrior to walk through fire, to arrive at the throne with dignity and grace until the elders revealed the sword of the Master. That realm alone held the might of all twelve regions. The overwhelming victory of the faction war, noted and recorded by the Justice Alliance, is relegated to Celestra.”

A rush of voices light up Ahava. The sound of thousands upon thousands of angels surge in triumph. This was a long, hard-won victory that gleams as bright as gold.

My father pulls me into his arms and lands a tender kiss over my forehead. Logan and Gage each offer me a congratulatory embrace.

“We did it.” Logan pierces me with his amber eyes, and I nod, mesmerized that indeed we did take down the Counts.

This is it. The moment I thought perhaps would never come.

“The coronation ceremony will take place once proper arrangements are made.” My mother’s voice charges over the crowd until all eyes and ears are back upon her. “At that time, the sword of the Master will be gifted to the overseer of the faction councils. This officiate will have the power to debate verdicts and freely bring concerns to the Justice Alliance. The gift of the edict will be hers to use at her discretion.”

My spirit soars. A surge of confidence rises in me like I’ve never felt before. It’s as if I had finally stepped into being. The woman I was destined to become had materialized, and it was me all along. Gone was the spirit of the girl, replaced with the evolution of a stronger woman, one who knew where she had been and where she was about to go—one who didn’t need a single man to define her, yet accepted love as the bonus it was because it truly is a gift.

My mother and the three men by her side take their seats over the lake and pass a series of glowing clipboards amongst themselves as the mass of humanity fizzles out of existence. Chloe and Holden remain, as does his father, Arson Kragger with his pale, sickly skin, his white hair, yellowing at the tips. Marshall remains, as does Logan, Gage, my father, and both Ezrina and Nev.  

My mother looks over at me. “A motion of disobedience was filed against Holden and Arson Kragger for the abuse and imprisonment of Celestra.” She gives a stern look my way.

I glance at Marshall and smile. My mother’s time is far better spent removing Kragger scum from the planet rather than a generous Sector like himself.

“The Justice Alliance has reviewed the records and finds no legal grounds to charge either father or son with malice. The manner in which they negotiated hostages was clearly outlined in the field guide for prisoners of war within the factions. Thereby the case is dismissed.” She sounds her ruby gavel, and it rings out like a gunshot. Both Holden and Arson exchange high fives, but only Arson disappears. Figures. Holden’s such a douche he probably wants to stick around for the rest of the show.

I take in a breath and choke on the words that beg to fumble from my lips, but nothing comes. It’s safe to say the Kraggers are going to make my life a living hell once we get back home.

“Onto the matter of Sector Marshall Dudley regarding the complaints filed against him by Logan Oliver.” My mother frowns. “I’ve reviewed this case personally. You, Sector, have gone above and beyond the call of duty to protect my child when I, myself, have turned a blind eye to her plea. These tests were from me. When you approached me all those centuries ago and asked for her hand in marriage, I was skeptical. But you remain stalwart in your affection for her, risking your own being to do whatever necessary to help the one you love. You have fiercely impressed me, thereby the former ruling has been reversed.” She sharpens her gaze over at Logan. “Do refrain from frivolous liable suits where extreme measures of mercy are your only clause for complaint. Especially when the accused was stepping outside of spiritual bounds to assist the one you profess to love and adore. Though the Master created the Sabbath for rest even he has been moved by mercy to heal the sick when they called at that unfortunate hour.” She sounds her gavel once more, and this time I more than approve.

I head over to Marshall and offer a tight embrace. My entire world would crumble in an instant without him. It already has with Logan gone. And if I’m to be the overseer, I’ll need Marshall now more than ever before.

“And, finally, the matter of retrial per the request of my daughter”—she offers a brief depleted smile—“on behalf of Ezrina MacHatter and Heathcliff O’Hare.” She makes a sour face while inspecting the luminescent clipboard before her.

I glance over at Ezrina with her bent back, her face lifted high with hope while her hair fans around her like a wreath of flames. Nevermore sits on her shoulder, his head equally cocked and fixated on what my mother is about to say. “Let the record show that the Justice Alliance has given due diligence to the case of the accused, who were originally tried centuries past, regarding the renegade slaughter of the Countenance people. Let it also be known that the matter of Skyla Messenger and Logan Oliver, who have committed crimes equally negligent and without the proper endorsement of authority, has been resolved. Upon juxtaposition, the Justice Alliance has deemed the initial ruling against the accused stands, as does a guilty verdict against you, Skyla”—she sighs with her eyes closed a moment—“and Logan Oliver for negating to initiate proper license to carry out such malfeasance against your Nephilim brothers, though you regard them as your enemy.” She sounds her gavel. “All of you—guilty as charged.”