Expel (42 page)

Chapter 75

The Visit

“Shit!” My heart thumps erratic at the sight of him.

My father steps out into the light of day, disoriented as if he just woke from an unsettling dream.

“Is that?” Gage stops short of finishing his thought.

I shove Drake in front of me and instruct him and Mia to go on ahead.

From inside the black hole of Demetri’s estate, I see my mother adjusting herself against the reflection in the French door, oblivious to the fact her oldest child is about to vacate the premises.

I take Gage by the hand and speed over to my father, over by the box hedge.

“Daddy!” I muster all the fake enthusiasm possible.

Damn—Ezrina really
is
a wicked witch. How she and Nev could possibly ever think bringing my father to Paragon just in time to see his wife marry another man, is a good thing, boggles the mind.

Dad squints into me. “I was just about to take out the trash, and I walked out of those bushes. You have anything to do with this?” He gives a sly smile.

“You’re here,” I say, fanning my arms out. I haul us through the shrubbery, and we land in a rose garden that stretches out for miles with its labyrinth-like design.

“So this is Paragon.” He looks around, taking it in. “It’s beautiful. Am I interrupting something?”

“Just some stupid wedding,” I shoot Gage a look that suggests I might be moved to slit a throat or two to keep the identity of the bride and groom a secret.

“Weddings are never stupid.” His forehead wrinkles. “Are you sure you don’t want to head back? I could steal a seat. No one would ever notice I was there.”

“Oh, I think they’d notice,” I whisper.

“Small town, everyone knows everyone,” Gage adds.

“Skyla!” My mother’s voice booms from behind the hedges.

A soft buzz emits from the other side.

Perfect.

Less than five minutes into the production, and we’ve managed to fuel enough island gossip for a decade. “Skyla?” Mom emerges from the bushes, pulling the veil up from over her face.

“Lizbeth?” Dad’s eyes widen first with delight, then horror.

Nev circles above before darting into the evergreens for cover.

He’d better fly away—far, far away to be exact. I might pluck him clean, later just for fun.

“Nathan?” Mom drops her bouquet, christening the lawn with a shower of white petals.

The simple sad song of a violin, sirens through the air. Even its soothing rhythm can’t quench the silence that has encapsulated the two of them like a membrane.

“Why don’t I walk you back,” Gage picks up the ball of pale roses and tries escorting my mother through the bushes.

“Did you do this?” She accuses me openly—doesn’t bother hiding her irritation.

“No.” How am I ever going to convince her it was a distorted apology from my evil friend the
bird
.

“Lizbeth, go ahead,” Dad pleads. “You, too, Skyla, there must have been a mix up.”

I can’t stand the pain rising behind my father’s eyes.

“No.” My mother steps forward. “I’m not going through with it.” She doesn’t take her eyes off my father. “Gage, please tell everyone I’m not feeling well, give my apologies.” She links her arm into his, and they delve deeper into the flower garden together. A lanky bush of citrus colored petals engulfs the two of them. The sun washes them in a shower of gold, arresting them in the silhouette of a newly married couple. But it’s all an illusion. It’s nothing that could ever be.

The only thing that’s real right now is the fact Tad is barreling in this direction.

“Crap,” I whisper.

“I’ll take care of it.” Gage intercepts Tad off at the pass and walks him back through the shrubbery.

Just freaking great. It’s up to me now to, of all things, convince my mother to go back and finish rehitching herself to Tad so that the people trapped in stadium seating can actually eat cake. But I don’t. I have no intention of inciting such nonsense.

A violent crush of leaves sends me jumping to attention. Another loud crunch—this time closer, adjacent to the bushes my parents are standing near. My parents—how sweet the sound.

A large dark shadow swipes in and out of the hedges. It’s nefarious, and scary, and definitely not human.

“Mom!” I bolt over. “Maybe you should wait in the house for us.” Really, I don’t think she’s ready to graduate to flesh eating Fems. Besides, the last image I want to have of my mother does not include her being ripped to shreds in a wedding dress.

“Are you sure?” She sniffles into my father not paying attention to a single word I’ve said. Obviously, my father is just as enthralled with the conversation because he’s not at all concerned that we might be jumped by a pack of rabid beasts.

“I’m sure,” he walks her over to the opening in the hedges and escorts her through.

And, here, my mother was afraid there would be no one to give her away. I shake my head at the irony.

A set of heavy claws land on my shoulders and knock me to the ground.

“Skyla!” Dad races over just in time to have a dirty hyena-like creature barrel onto his chest. We lie flat on the moist dirt, the sky rotating above us as they drag us by our legs. Dad kicks at it with his free leg before spiking up and wrestling the beast off his person. He tries to lunge towards the Fem that has me captive, but it sails away with me scraping the flesh off my back in the process, grazing my scalp along the fine pointed rocks until it feels I might pass out from the pain.

“Skyla,” Dad lands hard on the creature, gives it a bear hug from behind. My leg drops from its mouth as it turns to snap at my father. “Run, Skyla!”

I twist in the dirt, my left shoulder on fire from the effort. The trees shift position as I struggle to get my bearings. The earth rises to meet my feet. I overshoot the hedges and race around to the back of the house in an effort to avoid running the rabid beasts straight through the wedding.

I try to glance back at my father and a snapping jaw clamps shut just shy of my nose. The heft of its body forces me to do a faceplant in the dirt. It lays over me with the weight of a small car—its putrid breath, blowing in my face.

The world fades in and out as I claw my way over to the grass. I can see the bottom of the ladder-back chairs, men’s dress shoes, women’s heels.

Can’t breathe.

A growling snout buries itself into my neck, hot saliva circles around to the front and swims down my chest. Knife-sharp teeth puncture my skin, locking up my muscles as the long canines skewer deep into my flesh.

A set of smooth brown legs with feet pressed into black stilettos move swift in my direction. The ebony shoes stop at the edge of the lawn, as their owner inspects my misery from above.

“Well, look what the Fem dragged in.”

Chloe.

I don’t need to look up to affirm that bitchy whine.

“Don’t mind me,” she purrs. “Feel free to bury her alive. That’s what she hoped they’d do to me.”

It takes a moment for it to register that she’s talking to the Fem. Of course she wouldn’t help. Why would she? I killed her when I had the chance.

My head grinds into the dirt, my mouth fills with pea gravel, and through the agony I can hear the very distinct sound of Chloe’s laughter.

That’s it. I hone all of my Chloe-based anger, zero in on every acrimonious inclination I’ve ever had and turn, dig my fingernails into its sides until I feel its flesh shred between my fingers. I give it a hard push and eject the creature off me like a rocket.

“Here,” Chloe reaches down, “Let me give you a hand.”

Foolishly I accept. Foolishly I’m flying through the air, hurdling over the bushes like a pole-vaulter. I land flat on my back on something soft, slipping down the slope of what appears to be my engagement cake before systematically taking down all seven layers. Gage swoops by my side wide-eyed and puzzled by my latest acrobatic feat.

Tad and Mom appear, both equally miffed and stymied.

“Knew it,” Tad yells. “She was planning this stunt all along,” he gives a dismissive laugh. “I’ve got news for you. The wedding went off without a hitch and
this
is the precise reason I insisted your mother get you your own damn cake,” he turns to Mom. “I told you Lizbeth—cake diving is the new planking.”

“Take her inside and clean her up,” Mom pleads with Gage.

Tad speeds her off into the circulating crowd.

Down towards the altar I see Mia and Melissa posing for pictures with, of all things, a clown. He looks right at me, drops the smile off his face, just glares.

Shit.

 
“What the hell happened?” Gage helps me up.

“My dad, he’s still out there,” I pant.

“I just saw him slip into the house.”

“I need to find him. I need to make sure he’s OK.”

Chapter 76

Icing on the Cake

I bolt up the marble stairs slipping, clawing against Gage just to keep myself upright when I smack right into Marshall.

“Oh dear,” he feigns concern looking down at himself. “You’ve made a mess of my shirt.”
Your father’s upstairs in the game room admiring the variety of creatures his soon-to-be assassin has on display
.

“Nice.” Holy freaking shit.

I tap up the remainder of the stairs so fast it feels like I’m floating. I bolt down the hall and find an opening to the game room as wide as a wall. Gage and I walk in together.

“Look,” I motion up at the horrors mounted near the ceiling.

“Fems.” A voice comes from behind.

I turn to find my father staring back, perfect and unharmed.

“Daddy!” I jump into his arms and inhale his spiced cologne with an urgent greed. The scent alone acts as a bookmark to an entire era of my life. It takes everything in me not to find Mia and bring her to him.

“I saw her.” Dad’s eyes sparkle with tears. “Skyla, so much has changed in both your lives. I feel like I’ve missed a lifetime.”

“It does feel like a lifetime.” I bury my face in his neck.

“I don’t mean to interrupt the family reunion,” Gage pipes up, “but isn’t that a replica of the mirror Demetri gave you?”

I walk over and touch the cool of the glass. My hand melts through to the other side and I’m quick to retract.

“You think he has two?” I wonder.

“Skyla,” my father gently pulls me back from the contraption, “if Demetri Edinger gave you anything, I want you getting rid of it immediately.”

“You know he’s a Fem, don’t you.” I appraise my father in this new light. I’ve yet to know more than him at any given time. Even in death his knowledge has increased, much like Logan.

“I do,” he gives a sad nod. “I also know hanging around him too long is a sure guarantee to getting yourself removed from this planet.”

“I’ll get rid of it,” I say without hesitating. “I saw this horrible clown in it, all it does is follow me around. It goes as far back as me touching these pictures.” I walk Dad and Gage over to the haunted photomontage. I pluck out the frame that houses the picture of me at West and shake it, let them watch the entire scene unfold from an aerial perspective.

Dad takes it from me and places it back onto the shelf. He opens his mouth to say something before reaching to the back and pulling out another gilded frame, ornate with pressed roses lining the top and sides.

“This is me just now in the garden,” Dad holds it out for us to see.

“But how?” I take it from him. The picture neatly trimmed, sealed behind glass, the scene less than fifteen minutes old.

“They don’t incorporate time the way we do, Skyla. This earth is their playground.” Dad glances beyond my shoulder. “I have to go.” He pulls me in, touches the bruises on the back of my neck without meaning to. “Love you. Don’t be such a stranger. Bring your mother, your sister when she’s ready.” He brushes the pad of his thumb along my cheek before patting Gage on the back. “Take care of my baby.” He walks to the door and gives a forlorn look before disappearing into the hall.

“So that was it?” I collapse my arms around Gage and let loose a torrent of wild tears over his dress shirt.

“We’ll visit. We’ll do an L.A. date,” Gage blinks his dimples on and off. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I want my dad to look at these abrasions.”

I give a gentle nod.

“It’s also time to discuss how we’re going to bring Logan back.”

“Yes,” I whisper.

Killing and reviving Logan are at the top of my to-do list.

***

Gage and I leave the reception early because, for one, I’m drenched in frosting, and second, I’m in no mood to celebrate the union of Tad and Mom, this day or any other.
 

Nevermore circles the Oliver house as Gage and I pull into the driveway. He fans out his plumage so brazenly it makes me wonder if Nev is even remotely aware of the infliction he caused earlier.

Fresh spring lilacs scent the air from Emma’s border garden as Gage helps me down from the truck. He catches me in his waiting arms and spins me.

“I’m going to carry you over the threshold,” he says, dipping his arms behind my knees, cinching a kiss up on my lips for good measure.

“So what did you think of our engagement party?” I bat my lashes with every intention of seducing him, forgetting that my hair is slicked with butter cream frosting, that I have a mashed candy rose stuck in my cleavage.

“I think we might need a do over, just me and you,” he says it low and husky as though tonight were a real possibility for this to happen. “And perhaps a more romantic proposal—a ring would be nice.” His brows arch over his pale eyes.

I wave my forever band in the air.

“I was thinking something with a little more sparkle,” Gage inspects my finger for a moment and makes a face, as though it were a mere paltry offering of his affection.

“You’re all the sparkle I need.”

Gage gives a devious grin and melts a sea of kisses over me as he lets us into the house. He jockeys us upstairs. I can hear his bedroom door shut, the twist of the lock. I keep my eyes closed—enjoy the fruit of his mouth as he continues us over to the bathroom. The pipes twist, a light spray of water sprinkles over my arms, my chest, the left side of my face.

I kick off my heels, grab Gage by the collar and don’t let go.

A rumble of laughter escapes soft from his chest. He pulls back and looks down at me.

“Skyla,” he means for it to be admonishing in nature but he rasps it out with a whisper of desire.

“Gage,” I try to equal his intensity. “Come on, you know you want to.” I bring his finger to my mouth and press it against my lips.

Steam rises, fills my lungs with its sweet precipitation. Gage sets me down on the warm shower tiles, still in my dress, takes off his shoes and joins me. He picks up a bottle of shampoo and holds it out like a peace offering. I open his hand and watch the golden liquid drizzle into his palm.

Gage crashes in with soft kisses, lathers my hair as gentle as handling a newborn. It feels sacred, like a rite of passage to be cleansed by the hands of the one I love. The day melts off me. Gage runs one long hot kiss from my ear down to the base of my neck, examines me under the deluge of rain with a fierce intensity.

“You’re so beautiful, Skyla,” he whispers. His shirt glows, clinging to his skin beneath.

“I’m yours forever.” The words resonate inside me long after they leave my lips.

His cheek rises on the side, never breaking our gaze. Gage is a censer filled with a pure golden fire. His desire emanates hot and proud as the steam wraps around us like a veil. His eyes shine like cisterns of deep water, his lips alive with lust for me.

“Forever,” he whispers covering my mouth with his.

We let the water run over us, drench us in its rich eternal spring—raining over us like tears from every love story that ever had to come to an end.

We are forging our own love into the symbol of infinity, independent of time and space with no end and no beginning. We hover over the cusp of a beautiful horizon just within our reach.

This is forever.

Eternity within our grasp.