Ethereal Knights (16 page)

He’ll clearly remember all this tomorrow, and by the way—he’s always stoned. That’s baseline for him.
A foul odor assaults my senses.
New perfume?

She glances down at the muck lining the bottom of her shoe—a memento from Spike.
Yes. It’s called Craptastic
.
Like my night
.

We make our way over to her parents’ minivan. She takes her shoes off and tosses them in the trunk. 

“Are you guys coming back to the party?” She looks from me to Gage.

“No,” I say, as Ellis trips his way into the passenger’s seat. I glance back at Skyla. “And neither are you.”

I take the keys and hand them to Gage.

“Drive Ellis back.” I offer an apologetic nod. “Stay as long as you want, but drive his truck home for him.” I wrap an arm around Skyla’s waist and give her a wicked grin. “You’re coming with me.”

It’s time to tell Skyla everything she wants to know and then some.

Right after I dive into her mouth for a half-hour straight.

I’m drunk off Skyla Messenger, and I don’t ever want to recover.

***

“Nobody’s home,” I whisper as we head through the door. Barron and Emma mentioned they might take in a movie tonight. I’m all for date night as long as it means Skyla and I get the house to ourselves for the next few hours.

Charlie comes barreling in and lashes his tongue over her ankles before I can stop him.

I’d like to lick her feet. Maybe take her in the hot tub first to wash off Charlie’s slobber, but I’d be happy to lash my tongue over her without reservation and have her giggle like she is now.

I give a dirty grin, and her cheeks turn pink.

She bends over and scratches at the lucky dog. “You must be Charlie.” Her underwear rise out of the back of her jeans—black lace G-string—and my dick ticks to life at the sight.

I take her hand and lead us into the dining room, fighting the urge to lay her over the table. Instead, I listen in as she takes in Emma’s curious décor.

A palatial rectangle sits in the middle with a gold inlaid table that’s fit to seat twelve comfortably. A massive hutch sits behind it, and on each of the glass shelves are hundreds of angel figurines. My mother would say the whole thing’s gaudy, but I find it fascinating—eccentric.

“I’d have to agree with her.” I pull out a chair and run my fingers through her hair as she takes a seat.

“Is there any way to turn that off?” She points at my hand.

“Not that I know of.” Technically, it can never be turned “off.” Now,
muted,
that’s a different story. I pull out some paper and a pen before sitting next to her. It’s time to get down to the heart of the matter with Skyla Celestra Messenger. I hope she’s ready to digest large doses of an alternate reality. It’s been a few days since the blood draw. I’m hoping she’s had time to let things sink in, because I’m about to blow a hole through everything she ever thought she knew. 

I scrawl the word
Factions
across the top of the sheet and create five columns just below that.

“So you’re finally going to tell me everything there is to know?” She purrs like a kitten while stroking my hand. 

“Maybe.” I jot things down as fast as they come to mind. I might be filling her in on all things faction, but I doubt I’m going to give her all the gory details of what it means to be a descendent of the Nephilim—especially a Celestra. No need to eviscerate her world with details she’s not ready for. “I’d never lie to you.”

“So that means no.”

“That means maybe.” I look up at her and meet her determined gaze. My heart breaks at the thought of making her upset, but I’d feel worse if I flat-out lied and said no.

I push the paper in front of her, almost afraid to delve into the nucleus of who we are.

“There are five factions of earthbound angels.” I touch down on the first column with the pen. “Celestra—that’s us.” I glance up and smile. Skyla looks less than impressed, so I move on. “Countenance, the most powerful, crooked bunch of bastards that roam the earth—think mob, but far more greedy. We don’t know who they are. They don’t make it a practice to reveal their status. They band together and share the wealth, so there’re lots of reasons for keeping their mouths shut. Plus, they don’t frown upon killing their own if they don’t cooperate. Then there’s the most common three, Noster, Levatio—that’s Gage and my uncle. Deorsum—that’s my aunt. And there you have it, factions at a glance.”

“So Celestra has the most powerful blood?”

“Yes.” It has exactly that and so much more.

“Which means?” She shakes her head in frustration.

“Which means if there were enough of us, we could rule the Nephilim kingdom. Celestra is supposedly in charge but with lame-duck status. It’s like a government, and right now, the crooks are taking over. Each faction must pay a royalty to the Counts in exchange for their protection.”

“Protection against what? Aren’t they the ones we need protection from?”

It’s as if she instinctively knows.

“You’re a smart one,” I say, tapping the pen in her direction. “Technically, yes, but they claim to be protecting us against other spiritual beings called Sectors. The Sectors are like overlords of the angel armies. You’re a warrior if you hadn’t already done your homework. That’s why it’s all right to kill if your life is in danger or if you’ve been instructed to do so by your faction leader.” Or on your own, but then you’ll have the Justice Alliance shoved so far up your ass you won’t be able to breathe.

“And is that a sufficient plea to tell your legal council before they haul your ass to prison?”

“You won’t go to prison if you stay within those bounds. The factions take care of everything.” I hope.

“So murder out of necessity or under orders is okay.”

“Essentially.” Crap. This is going in the wrong direction. Why aren’t we on the couch by now?

“I don’t exactly understand the Sectors.” She runs her teeth over her luscious bottom lip, and it takes all my self-control not launch an assault and feast on her.

Back to the Sectors. “I don’t either. It falls under the category of ‘wait until you’re thirty,’ but I have some theories.”

“And what about powers? Both you and Gage are really strong. Gage knows things.” She pauses as she considers his so-called knowledge and most likely those piercing blue eyes. And, since when is Gage
really strong
? I’m not sure I like her considering his strength, either. “You and I can read minds, what else is there?”

“My aunt can influence small children to do her bidding. She owns and operates the single largest daycare center on the island. Parents love her. Most Deorsum don’t have that ability. The run-of-the-mill things for them are strength and speed. You might say they got the shaft when it comes to outstanding super powers.”

“I hear pretty well, too.” Emma walks in and introduces herself to Skyla.

Barron sails in after her, glances over my shoulder, and nods.

“Giving her the breakdown, I see.” He offers one of his complacent smiles. “I should have the blood work completed in a week’s time. I’m running a very detailed panel, that way we’ll know for sure if you’re Celestra or a mix or anything at all. Sometimes that happens. But if you’re a mix, we go by what you have more of. It’s just easier for labeling purposes.”

“Great.” Skyla pushes out an exasperated breath as if she wishes we had the results right now. “I look forward to it.”

Barron and Emma say goodnight and head upstairs.

“We should have your parents over,” I offer. Barron and Emma, for all practical purposes, are the welcoming committee. I guess Barron sort of qualifies as the departing committee, too, but that’s not relevant and often depressing to bring up in mixed company. 

“Is one of your abilities causing super humiliation?” she asks with her mouth hanging open at my apparent gaff. But all I can think about is that little pink tongue glistening over at me and the many things I’d like to do with it.

“They’ll meet one day,” I say, trying to control the testosterone rising in my boxers, and continue with the faction introduction. “Levatio.” I force a breath through my cheeks. “The lucky bastards, as I like to call them.”

“Are they lucky?” She licks her lips while glancing down at the word Levatio and for one paranoid moment, I’m convinced she’s envisioning Gage—shirtless.

“Not really.” I’d be remiss to paint them in such a great light. “They’ve got strength and speed, the knowing—teleportation.” I say it like it’s no big deal.

“How cool is that?” She twirls her finger through her hair and stares off dreamily into space.

Is she interested in Gage? I didn’t see them exchange two words at the party tonight.

“Noster’s same as Levatio”—I say, quick to lead us down another path—one that doesn’t include Gage or his shirtless chest—“with the exception they can see through walls, and—oh yeah—both can levitate.”

“As in fly?” Her eyes glint silver in the light. Yes, for sure, she is far too fascinated by my “really strong” nephew.

“It’s not long range or anything.” I shrug as if the gravity-defying feat were no big deal. “They can’t orbit the earth, but yes.”

“That’s so freaking fantastic.” She loses herself in breathless amazement. Somehow, in the process of educating Skyla on all things Nephilim, I’ve managed to make Gage look like a mouthwatering superhero. 

The pen slips from my fingers, and I fold my hands in defeat. I think it’s time to move this party to the bedroom—give her the horizontal tour if she’s interested.

“And what about us?” She latches onto me with those glass-cut eyes. Her pink lips pull down on the edges, and I want to seal myself over her, in her. 

It’s time to pull out the big guns and knock Gage off the marble pedestal I accidentally landed him on.

“Read minds.” I pump my shoulders like it’s no big deal. “Strength, speed.” I hone in on her perfect beauty. “Time travel.”

She opens her mouth and not a breath escapes. I don’t let the moment pass. Instead, I sear my lips over hers and offer a kiss that shows off a facet of my own supernatural prowess—one that involves my tongue.

Skyla moans into me as I lift her out of the chair and guide her toward the stairs, never once breaking our liplock. I can hear the shuffle of Emma’s slippers, so I veer right and kiss Skyla over to the couch.

I dot her cheeks with a kiss before pulling away. “A movie sound good?” I pop in a DVD at lightning speed to give the impression that my intentions are mostly chaste.

Skyla places a finger on her lips and licks the tip, calling me over to her again.

“You’re a vixen. You know that?”

She lies on the couch and I land a knee on either side of her.

Sklya runs her cool hands up my shirt—scratches over my chest, creating smooth circles of fire. She slips her fingers down over the bulge in my jeans, and I catch her before I lose control. 

My mouth meets with hers again as I pour my affection over her in one blissful exchange. I never thought I could feel this way about anyone. I never thought I could want—
crave
anyone so damn much. Skyla is water and oxygen, and I need to soak her in, drink her down—be near her, in her—just to survive.

This night is definitely ending far, far better than I had ever hoped.

Gage

“Let’s go.” I smack Ellis in the arm. He’s been snatching up girls at the party like he’s stocking up for the apocalypse.

“Relax, dude. Where you racing off to?” He points over to a brunette in spiked heels. “You want me to hook you up? I think she’s got a friend.”

“Nope.” The last thing I need is Harrison turning this night into some personal mission to get me laid. “Look, I’ll catch you in five, then we’re out the door.”

“Deal.” He speeds off to the brunette and slips his arm low around her waist.

She looks over her shoulder at me and winks. I know the offer is there. I’ve had my fair share of girls show more than a little interest.

I ditch the party and head up to Skyla’s room to hang out for a minute. The first room on the left has its door wide open. The lights are on, and a tangle of flesh moves over the bed. It’s Nat and her boyfriend from East. She’s sitting with her legs wrapped around his back. She yanks off her T-shirt, sending her boobs bouncing like springs, large and round, and for damn sure unexpected.

“Shit.” I try to hold back a laugh. Too bad seeing Nat’s tits is more action than I’ve had since I’ve dreamed of Skyla. Pathetic but true. 

I speed down the hall to Chloe’s old room. It’s dark inside, so I switch on the light. A girl’s canopy bed sits in the corner, and a cheer uniform lies rumpled on the floor. Must be Skyla’s room now. Nice. I shut the door and lock it. Her things are laid out in a display of organized chaos. A tower of boxes leans against the wall, waiting to be unpacked. I head over and lie on her bed, taking in the scent from her pillow like the pervert I’m shaping up to be.

I guess this officiates my stalker standing. I’ve entered her bedroom uninvited, sniffed her pillow like it was the world’s most exotic perfume—what next? Burying my face in her underwear?

I shake the thought out of my head before it blooms into a morbid reality.

Skyla’s room. A dull smile forms on my lips. Here I am alone on her bed, while she’s at my house most likely getting attacked by Logan.

Crap.

I spring up to my feet and head toward the closet like a habit. The cover to the butterfly room is still neatly in place, hiding the attic’s best-kept secret. I teleport my way inside and pull the metal leash dangling from the ceiling, and the room fills with an explosion of light.

A chill runs up my spine, leaving my hair standing on edge. Chloe said there would be a new girl on the island one day—that she’d be pretty. Chloe went as far as accusing her of wanting to take over her life, which proves she was nothing more than a deep well of paranoia.

I think Skyla Messenger couldn’t care less about Chloe Bishop, and for damn sure, I don’t think she’s here to take over her anything.