Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7) (22 page)

I glance back over at Gage. Just the thought of him reenacting that kiss I shared with Marshall makes my heart beat faster. 

“Oh, for sure you can have another.” I hike up on the balls of my feet and accept a quick kiss full on the lips that says I’ve got more where that came from, even if I don’t.

He gives a causal wave to Gage before speeding out the door.

Well, I guess there’s that. I’d better feign monster cramps, so I can get out of working shoulder to dysfunctional shoulder with the ex-love of my life.

I head in his direction. He’s just standing there going over the books with a studious expression on his face, and my stomach bottoms out. Gage is obviously aware of the super powers he holds when it comes to his looks. God knows he’s completely abused their ability to seduce me. It’s so not fair. Instead of offering some lame ass excuse as to why I’m about to leave, I want to kick him in the balls.

“You OK?” he asks, counting out the dollar bills before placing them in the register.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I can feel Gage luring me into quicksand.

“Because he was trying to resuscitate you.” He presses out a bleak smile. “The next time he decides to perform CPR, would you kindly take it outside? You were scaring the kids.” His affect flattens to the point of vexation.

“Is that what has you up in arms? A couple of frightened children?” Unexpected tears blur my vision and I blink them away. “Screw you, Gage Oliver,” I hiss. “Unlike your fake ass, I actually had feelings for you. And, by the way, rumor has it that Chloe’s vagina is the equivalent of a Chinese finger trap—once you’re in, you can’t get out. That would serve you right, being conjoined to that monster for the rest of your natural lives. And the next time you decide to leave a psychotic letter in my bedroom, I hope you spontaneously combust. I never want you in my room again!”

“I meant every word.” It stamps out of him harsh and aggressive. His brows sharpen like Nev with his wings in flight, hovering over twin beryl globes.

“That’s what makes you a good liar—even you tend to believe them. Just like you lied when you said Chloe didn’t pay you. So how much did you get? A grand like Brielle? Did you get a bonus? I bet she does all kinds of nasty favors—”

He holds up his hand in defeat. “Skyla”—he gives a long blink—“let’s go in the office,” he pleads. “We can go anywhere. I’ll take you to the moon, just let me speak to you for a minute.”

My entire person wants to cave. He could take me to the morgue, the cemetery. I’d listen to every word. I could sit spellbound for hours just listening to his hypnotic voice.

A surge of anger takes hold of my heart for sympathizing with the devil.

“I think I’d better go.” I struggle to get the words out as a baseball size lump settles in my throat.

“Looks like Rockaway is getting invaded tomorrow.” He glances down as if replaying a memory. “You going?”

That’s right—Paragon’s firework spectacular is converging on our love nest. I hope the hut he built for two meets with an unfortunate demise by way of an ember. I might arrange for that little mishap myself.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I whisper.

Unfortunately, his girlfriend will be there, too.

Gage steps in close, pins me between the counter and his rock-hard chest. His lids lower as he rakes his hot breath across my neck. Volcanic levels of heat radiate from his body. I want to press myself against it, warm myself against the fire that is Gage, but he’s already burned me once, and playing in the flames is never a good idea.

“You really did it, Gage?” I mean for it to sound accusatory, but it comes out childlike. “This thing with Chloe?” I can’t bring myself to call him out on being the well-placed anything.

He locks his gaze over mine and takes in my hair, my eyes, and lips before flexing his dimples, no smile.

“Yes, Skyla. I did.”

My heart bottoms out and I run like hell all the way to the Mustang.

Chapter 31 

Cellar Door

Demetri Edinger’s palatial estate was supposedly handed down from his dead Fem of a grandfather. Although I seriously doubt that particular acquisition of real estate ever took place, it doesn’t change the fact I need to fulfill some serious community service hours. I made the error of trying to procure some of Ellis’s magically replenishing, albeit very illegal, weed—not for me of course, for Emerson Kragger. 

The sky boils thick as mud over Paragon as I take in the oversized McMansion. It’s an exact replica of the one in the Transfer, and this unnerves me to no end.

It’s not until I come upon the stairs do I note the minivan tucked in an alcove just off the driveway. Figures. Mom must be rummaging through his grandfather’s belongings herself, and I bet the belonging she’s fondling just happens to be Demetri. Honestly, I don’t get the appeal. Sure he’s rich, handsome in a maniacal way, and he treats her like a queen, but still. Can’t she see through all the trickery?

I freeze midflight on the stairs.

God—he’s just like Gage. Gage was in every way the perfect boyfriend,
too
perfect. His perfection alone should have set off a dozen different sirens embedded in my stomach. Obviously said sirens are in need of recalibration. Everything about my internal warning system seems to be defunct. After all, I’m the one responsible for reanimating Chloe.

I head up to the door and give a gentle knock before letting myself in.

“Hello?” My voice echo’s reminiscent of Ezrina. 

“Skyla!” Demetri’s voice booms with great cheer from the sitting room. I tread over and find my mother planted next to him with her skirt cut above the knee and her legs neatly crossed at the ankles. She looks attractive, far too attractive to be cradling a teacup with her pinkie out, having a tete-a-tete with the head of all demons.

“So, I was just swinging by to help. I still have some hours to kill.” I say the word
hours
as faint as a whisper and over annunciate the word
kill
for kicks.

“I thought you had a shift at the bowling alley,” my mother protests.

I’m not sure if she’s fearing for my employment or simply highlighting the fact I’ve interrupted her precious one-on-one time with her toxic suitor.

“I, uh…left.” I sweep my gaze over the ornately gilded furniture, the garish gold-framed mirror carved meticulously with a pattern of grapes enwreathing the glass.

“Was Gage there?” Mom asks softly as if she understands how difficult it must be for me.

“Was there a falling out?” Demetri feigns surprise. “Say it isn’t so. I’ve never met a young couple so well paired.”

“I know.” My mother taps him on the wrist. “They’re like Romeo and Juliet.”

I’d hate to interrupt my mother’s warped fantasy, but if I remember correctly, Romeo and Juliet ended in a double suicide. I doubt we go down that path anytime soon. Besides, Gage has already killed me on the inside.

“We’ll have to make an effort to bring the lovebirds back together,” Demetri whispers loud enough for me to hear before reverting his attention. “Back in the day, your mother and I used to set up mutual friends on blind dates.”

“We had an impressive track record.” Mom nods into him.

“Sounds like you should’ve opened a dating service.” I try not to lay on the sarcasm too thick. Really, all I want is to vacate the premises. Obviously coming here was a big mistake. “Anyway, I hear Chloe is roaming around. Does she have instructions on what to do?”

“She’s your boss.” Demetri winks at me from over his teacup as he takes a sip. “Follow the narrow hall to the left, there’s a door that leads to the cellar.”

I turn to leave.

“And, Skyla?” Demetri calls out. “Don’t hesitate to explore. Some of those passageways lead to a whole new world.”

I bet they do.

***

I follow the narrow hall down for what feels like miles. The heavy carpet cushions the sound of my mother’s laughter until I’m left with a welcomed silence. The last thing in the world I want to hear is my mother chortling herself into a giggle-gasm with the prince of darkness.

At the end of the hall, a mahogany door appears in lieu of a tunnel of light, and I dash the rest of the way over to it. It’s unlocked, and a light emanates from the bottom of a rather steep staircase. I descend slowly, in the event Chloe is positioned with a hatchet ready to take me down Ezrina style.

Once I hit the bottom, I find a carnivorous room that breaks off into halls and a series of doorways that expand like a well-orchestrated maze. Stone floors, creamy walls, and garish, larger-than-life statues pepper the vicinity. Probably soul-stealing Fems he keeps on hand should the need arise to terrorize the residents of Paragon, so I try not to inspect them too closely. 

Chloe has her back slumped over a box in the not-too-far distance.

“What’s going on?” I twitch my head to the side as I pop up beside her.

Chloe jumps and gapes at me for a second before scrambling to hide whatever’s in that plastic bin she’s plowing through. 

I
so
caught her red-handed. I can tell by the stupid look on her face I managed to scare the shit out of her in the process.

“Nothing.” She swallows hard. “What are you doing here? Wasn’t Gage at the bowling alley?”

“Yes.” I bite the word as I say it. “You know damn well he was there. He made me so sick I had to leave.” Not really, but in the event they’re reporting to one another, it might make for a good jab.

Chloe springs to her feet and threads her arm through mine. “So what happened?” She begins escorting me in the other direction with a counterfeit curiosity.

“Let’s see,” I start, “I almost kissed Gage. Then, in a bigger fit of insanity I did kiss Marshall, and now for the grand finale, I’m confiding in you,” I say, plucking free from her grasp and heading back to the box she was secretively pawing through.

She yanks me back by the wrist. “Get the hell away,” she commands. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Then what’s it to you if I take a look?” I charge over to the plastic bin with its lid sitting off to the side. Who is she kidding? Everything Chloe sinks her claws in has to do with me. Why would this be any different? Who knows what I’ll find inside. The last surprise I found at Demetri’s haunted estate was a room full of decapitated Fems posing as wall trophies. I’m still hopeful Chloe will be added to the disembodied collection someday.

A layer of bubble wrap sits sloppily on top, so I pitch it to the side and peer down at the contents. Ceramic statues—of people. At least a dozen or so painted in cartoon colors, dipped in heavy gloss. I pluck one out. A man. He looks like a caricature with serious frown lines and wrinkles, but I feel like I’ve seen him before. He’s dressed in a business suit and holds a newspaper in one hand. I pick up another, a woman, and she too looks vaguely familiar. I press my lips together while examining the rest of them. It’s not until I get the last one, that of a girl, do I put together what might be happening.

“This is you,” I whisper, holding the miniature troublemaker in my trembling hands. It’s in every way a replica of her highness of bitchiness. “This is amazing. Who are the rest of these people? Is that your family?”

Chloe hovers above with her arms folded defensively.

“You’re a genius,” she says it flat. “I guess you can’t get anything past Skyla the slutty sleuth. Happy now?”

“So what’s this mean?” I twist the see-through container around and find the word,
discard
scrawled on the side. “Discard.” I try it out on my lips.

As in discard the Bishops? I don’t get it.

“Wow, looks like you’ve been discounted,” I muse. “You think he’s going to sell these on eBay or just take them out back and use ’em as target practice?”

“Shut up, Messenger.” She slouches beside me and opens another sealed container to inspect its wares.

“Doesn’t feel so hot having someone interfere with your life, does it?” I ask. “Looks like good ole Demetri is up to his controlling mind games, and a few pieces of the big picture are no longer necessary.” I meant to let it go as a passing thought, but who am I to waste a perfectly good opportunity to offend Chloe?

“No, Skyla, it doesn’t.” She glares off into some invisible horizon. “I’m pretty damn sure no one is through with me or my family, especially not the Counts.” Her eyes glisten thick with moisture.

Well, I’ll be darned. I do believe I’m bearing witness to Chloe’s nervous breakdown. And pissed at the Counts for
discarding
her family? This is too fantastic to have missed. It was almost worth the pot bust itself for landing me here.

“I have to go.” She rises and heads toward the exit. “Oh and, Skyla?” She tries to hide a blooming grin. “I found your box an hour ago, smashed your entire family to bits.” She plucks something out of her pocket and tosses it in my direction.

I catch a tiny decapitated head that happens to bear my effigy.

True to life, Chloe hacked me to pieces before I ever got here.

Chapter 32

Wreck the Halls

Once Chloe leaves, I embark on a journey that doesn’t even put a dent in the breadth and width of Demetri’s cellar.

In the next room, a series of tables conjoin to create one long showcase. A miniature replica of the island stretches for an unreasonable length, decked out in a series of fake pine trees and tiny wooden houses. The schools, the library, the hospital, it’s all present and accounted for. Only a smattering of houses are scattered throughout, not every home on the island litters the supersized diorama. I’m quick to find the Landon residence and bend over to pick it up. It lifts right off the base, and to my surprise, eight miniature cast-iron figures stand two inches tall on the floor of the display. I retrieve one and find Tad’s distinct features staring back at me.

“Holy shit,” I say, scooping up the rest of the family and scrutinizing the entire Landon clan. Chloe is numbered with us. “Huh,” I whisper, setting us back down and laying the house where it belongs. I walk around the behemoth display until I hit the Oliver house. I lift the tiny home, and three figures stare back at me. There they are. Barron and Emma look impeccably like themselves. I quickly place them back and cradle Gage in the hollow of my palm. “Hello,” it comes out a broken whisper as I gaze into his beautiful face.