Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7) (17 page)

Logan texts that he’s downstairs, so I head in that direction.

Mom and Tad and a bouncy blonde congest the entry.

Isis, the slithering niece of Detective-I-don’t-solve-crimes-I-mastermind-them Edinger, has arrived. Her boobs look like they’re allergic to her body because I swear they’re swelling right out of their casing, and eww? Why is she wearing Daisy Dukes and barefoot?

Mom clears her throat. “Izzy here is conducting an informal couple’s survey tonight.” She blinks at me with a note of disdain. “It’s casual.” She nods as if answering my question.

“It’s Dr. Edinger.” Isis is quick to correct before drilling her finger into Tad’s belly button. “But it’s Izzy for you!” She titters with an animated, slightly orgasmic spasm of delight.

Holy shit. She is freaking insane. And judging by the look on Mom’s face, she’s arrived at the same conclusion.

“I’m going to step out for a while.” I jump out onto the porch. “Have fun.” 

“You have fun—for all of us,” Mom whispers before shutting the door.

I will.

Right after I stop wallowing in all of this misery.

***

Logan and I drive for what seems like all eternity before we finally arrive at the Falls of Virtue. We pull into the parking lot and take in the glassy black lake with a sliver of moonlight dancing over the surface. A precipitous fog closes and opens over the expanse like a curtain.

I take up Logan’s hand as we make our way down to the distal end of the reservoir, away from the chaotic rush of the falls.

I have my bathing suit on underneath should the need arise to dive into a freezing body of water. If Logan wanted me to, I’d dive off a cliff—naked. I’m so happy he’s still around, still my Elysian, even if it does bring him pain.

“I can’t believe it’s been so even keeled, no rain in weeks,” I say. “Just white milky clouds, mist in the morning and at night. I like Paragon’s version of summer.”

“Right after the Fourth of July, it takes a turn for the worse.” He gives my hand a squeeze as though it were an analogy of what’s about to happen to the two of us.

We stop just shy of the tiny marsh that connects to the lake and take a seat on a nearby boulder. I kick my heels against the rock, and the sound echoes for what feels like miles. A few people are shouting and laughing over by the falls, but not a sign of anyone I recognize.

“Ellis is having a party,” Logan says, straddling my legs. He sweeps his hands around my waist, but there’s a distant look in his eye with hurt layered underneath.

“And in other non-news.” I pull him in by the T-shirt. “Ellis is always having a party.” I whisper it sultry right over his lips.

“Ellis is a party.” Logan blows the words over me as if he were going to finish his thought with a kiss, then retracts.

“No, it’s OK.” I pull him in soft by the neck. “I want to be close to you.” I almost added, “again.” The truth is, I crave Logan. I crave the pure blossoming love we had before Gage was injected into the picture.

“Skyla.” He looks down as if he were mourning. Something is off. Maybe Logan Oliver has finally lost his desire for me.

“Logan.” I pick him up by the chin. The reserve of moonlight captures his features, holds them hostage like the carving of a brilliant work of art. “I want everything we had back.”

“It will come back. I promise you this,” he assures. He takes in a breath that goes for miles before relaxing into me. “Just not now.” He puts it out there in a mournful whisper. “Not for a while anyway.” He comes in close, so close I can feel the heat radiating off his face.

“Kiss me.” I breathe the words like a song. I’d pull him in and press all of the starvation I feel into him with wild abandon, but I need for him to want it too.

He shakes his head, barely noticeable.

“Yes.” I’m startled by his reluctance.

“You’re not over him.”

“Are you going to make me beg?” I laugh and the sound of my voice ripples across the water. It ricochets off the hillside just south of the lake—sounds like a frightening cackle when it returns.

“Never beg me for anything, Skyla. I’d give the moon if you wanted it. I’d shred it in a blender and drink it for you if it would make you happy.” His eyes glint a burnt sienna. Logan is sublime in every way, a prince, a lover, my earthly savior.

“I beg of you to kiss me, Logan Oliver, so now you’ll have to comply.” I lean forward and pucker.

“Comply, I will.” His elongated dimple inverts where I sliced him. “But before I do—I want you to know, I really think you should hear Gage out. You love him, and he loves you. I know your feelings didn’t just up and disappear. I’m still in this for your heart, Skyla, but not like this, not when I know you and Gage are long from over—that the faction war still rages.” The theoretical end of the war is the cap of my relationship with Gage according to Logan, or at least his tolerance of it.

I open my mouth to refute what he’s said, tell him that I hate Gage with everything in me and that I could never love him again, but I can’t bring my tongue to carry out the treason.

“Kiss me, damn it.” I pull a bleak smile.

His chest rumbles with laughter. “One day, I’m going to love you until you’re delirious.” He caresses me at the waist, and an explosion of lust goes off like a bomb through every cell of my body. “When it’s just you and me, there will be fire in the air. Forget the moon. The ocean will pull to our magnetism. We’ll control the tides with our love. Do you believe me?” He winces as if my answer has the power to hurt him on the most intimate level.

“Of course, I believe you. But why wait for someday when what we both want is staring us in the face?” I lean in farther, trying to seduce him with my words, with my cleavage.

Logan drops to his knees and looks up at me with a reverence reserved for deities.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Skyla.” He plucks off my heel and holds it in the air. He gives a wicked grin before dropping it behind him and plucking off the other one. He picks up my right foot and kisses the tip of my toes, picks up my left and repeats the effort. He looks up with a long expression. “The Counts have it all backward. You’re my everything. I’m
your
slave, your servant in every way.” He scoops my feet into his hands and settles his lips over my ankles a very long time. Logan remains still—lost in his worship. The thought of interrupting him frightens me. He pushes back with a sigh. “I’m going to love you—every part of you. It’s just not my time.”

I hop off the rock, fall to the ground, and hold Logan as if the entire world were disbanding around us. I wish he weren’t right. I hope he’s not. I don’t think it’s fair that Gage steals anymore of my life than he already has.

The night settles its dew over us as we embrace each other near the still end of the lake.

I wish I were over Gage.

I wish today was the start of a tangible future with the first boy I ever loved.

“It comes,” he whispers.

“I can guarantee you it will.” I’m quick to assure.

I can also guarantee Gage will prove to be a tremendous obstacle despite the fact he swallowed my heart and vomited it out all over Chloe Bishop’s feet.

Chapter 24

Party with the Lights Off

Logan and I decide to head to Ellis’s after all.

We walk hand in hand past the overgrown fountain with the lazy lions that lend themselves as the climax of Ellis’s opulent circular drive.

Fog presses down over Paragon, cool and welcoming. Three days in a row of seventy-degree weather and it feels downright balmy.

Dream.
A voice echoes from the forest in triplicate, and I jump into Logan’s chest as if he were my own protective hedge.

“That’s you-know-who,” I hiss. There is no way in hell I’m going to call Ezrina to myself by forming the letters of her name on my lips.

“Ezrina!” Logan shouts as if he’s about to flag her down and invite her into Ellis’s hotbed of carnal infections. I swear at any given time, there are at least thirteen different STD’s mutating into new exotic strains that are undoubtedly resistant to the most potent elixirs modern medicine has to offer. Not even the scientific community can keep up with the contagions brewing in those bedroom laboratories.

“What the hell are you calling her for?” I yank him by the elbow when all I really want to do is rattle his skull.

“I’ve got some business to take care of.” He washes over me with those citrine lenses. There’s a painful smile on his lips as if he’s about to make a supreme sacrifice. “If I’m not back, maybe Gage can give you a ride home,” he says it sweetly, forlorn, as he takes up my hand.

“No thanks. I’ll catch a ride with Bree, Drake or Ethan.” I’d walk before I graced that lunatic’s truck with my presence. Heck, I’d hitch a ride on a train bound for the tunnels and give an artery or two at the office, or leave all four limbs with Ezrina before I get within spitting distance of that abnormally gorgeous abomination.

My stomach cycles with a bite of heat, at the thought of seeing Gage tonight.

Logan holds our conjoined hands up, amused at my psychotic ramblings, and I shake my head as an apology.

I lean up on my toes and peck a slow lingering kiss over his lips. I plan on overriding his decision to abstain from me until I iron out this bullshit with Gage. I need Logan to love me in the most intimate way possible. Logan is the balm my body desires to escape all of the madness that follows us like a plague.

Logan earned a kiss. He is due one each second of the day for his willingness to sacrifice everything for my wellbeing, right down to our love.

“I’d better go.” He rasps the words out in a heated rush.

“Be careful,” I whisper. “Flying objects are most certainly sharper than they appear.” I nod toward the woods in which Ezrina lumbers about.

“There’s a chance I might pop into your dreams tonight. You mind?” He tilts his head. His entire body aches as if there were another question he longed to ask.

“I totally don’t mind.” I offer a brief hug. “Guess it’s official. You’re the man of my dreams.”

He gives a gentle moan. “Get in there and talk to Gage. He’s turned into a walking corpse these last few weeks.” He presses out a frown as if he didn’t approve but found it necessary to arbitrate peace talks nevertheless.

I look back at Ellis’s house with the music booming out of it, the windows vibrating in tune, and I try to envision Gage as a disheveled zombie. Imagining Gage as anything other than how I knew him, how I thought of him before prom is a sheer impossibility. He embodied perfection. He sold me the rights to our forever brand of love like some conman flashing the wares from inside his trench coat, and I bought everything he was willing to give me without suspecting for a minute he was running a counterfeit ring. And now, the only memory I have is a shell of who we were, smothered in the stench of Chloe’s once upon a death.

“See you in your dreams, Skyla Laurel Messenger.” Logan kisses my hair, my cheek, and the tip of my nose before taking off into the forest where I once killed Gage’s apparent main squeeze.

“See you in my dreams,” I shout after him, but he’s already been swallowed alive by the somber thicket.

Why in the hell is Logan running
toward
Ezrina?

***

I see Ellis’s smiling face as soon as I cross the threshold into the house.

“So where’s your dad?” I ask. Not that I expect him to be passed out on the couch with a bright red Solo cup tucked between his legs. Although that might inspire me to do my best impersonation of Ezrina—she is in the vicinity, and hatchets are prone to happen.

“Out of town.”

Code for trekking in the tunnels I suppose.

“So when’s this life-coaching thing going to start?” Ellis slides his shoulder up against mine as he looks out at a sea of girls rocking to the music.

I survey the crowd and spot Chloe stationed next to Gage and quickly twist my neck in the other direction.

Shit. I knew this was a crappy idea. If Ezrina doesn’t hurt Logan, I might have to for pushing me into the lion’s den.

“I’ve reconsidered the whole coaching thing.” I try not to sound so desperately grieved over what I just witnessed. “You’re slaying them pretty well on your own.”

“No, I think you’re right.” Ellis folds his arms and examines the estrogen-based offerings. “I need to go bigger, bolder—better.”

“Are we talking IQ points or bra sizes?”

“You’re a funny girl.” He cuts a sideways glance at Michelle who, for impractical purposes, is counting matches near the fireplace. “You think she’s stoned?” Ellis looks perplexed by her bizarre behavior, as she plucks a long-stem match from the mess in front of her and tries to apply it as lipstick.

“See that necklace she’s wearing?” The wicked rose pendant lets off a necrotic flicker as if winking in our direction—knowing Marshall, it probably is. “It’s boot camp for Fems. They invade her mind and turn it into a big gelatinous puddle of crap.”

“That’s effing sick.” Ellis recoils at my masterful descriptive.

“I know this because I swallowed it once, and it really effed with my mind.” I borrow his doctored expletive to prove my point. “You were in my hallucination. You were an ox with a body of a man. You were kind of hot if I do say so myself.”

“Cool.” Ellis expands his chest to annunciate said hotness.

“So, what’s the word around town? You find anything out from your dad that might save my neck?” Literally.

“The Counts are really pissed.” He pauses to knuckle bump some guys from East.

“Pissed? They do know they’re winning the war, right? Not to mention they have me as a private contributor to their unethical blood drives, and the fact Logan is not only a soldier in their hypocritical army, but they’ve amassed my mother as their newest doe-eyed convert. What else do these people want? World domination? OK, well, that.”

“Nope.” Ellis twists his lips carefully examining a group of girls clad in wet T-shirts as if we were standing in front of a buffet. “Not one of those things was on their shit list. In fact, if I remember correctly, they were only ticked about one thing.”