Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7) (32 page)

“Who shall we blame?” Marshall booms. “You?”

“Blame whoever the hell felt the need to launch a war to begin with,” Gage fires back. “By the way, we’re all out of discs.”

“I wouldn’t give you a disc if you groveled and offered to lick the barn clean in an effort retrieve one. You’ve squandered them, thank you very much—made me look bad.” He pouts a little when he says it and just the mention of the disc has me disconnecting from Marshall’s voyeuristic grip.

I slouch in my seat and tuck the smooth flat disc Demetri gave me deeper into my pocket. There is no way I’m ever going to be without it again.

“So, Logan’s birthday is coming up,” I say, trying to change the subject. It’s not until I open my mouth do I realize I threw us out of the frying pan of one heated conversation and into the furnace of another.

“Have you seen him? Is he all right?” Emma stops kneading the dough in front of her and holds out the rolling pin with concern. The better to clobber me with, I’m sure.

“Oh, he’s fine.” I shoot Gage a look that threatens to slit his throat with my teeth should the truth somehow spew out. “He’s taking a little vacation.” God—I’m lying to the Olivers now. Obviously my dishonesty knows no bounds.

Where is he?
Marshall insists, picking up my hand once again.

He’s busy.    

Busy?
Marshall gives a disbelieving huff.
Your mother has requested your presence this evening. I suppose when I discover the origins of ‘busy’, it will end the mystery as to her urgency.

“Skyla.” Dr. Oliver snips the thread off and ties a knot close to my skin. “It’s clear you know more than you’re letting on.” He softens. “You’re like a daughter to Emma and me. We expect the truth from you.” He looks at me from over his glasses—makes me feel two inches tall, caught in a hotbed of lies.

Something about the way he said I was like a
daughter
warms me. The Olivers have felt like family since I met them a year ago. Even Giselle, who really is their daughter and just so happens to be dead, feels very much like family.

“OK.” I close my eyes a moment. “There may have been a little hiccup in an agreement he made with a certain somebody in an effort to keep me safe.” There. Telling the truth isn’t so bad.

“Who was this somebody, and what was the agreement?” Marshall sharpens his tone. There’s a fire smoldering in his eyes like he already knows where this might be headed.

“Ezrina,” I say in the smallest voice possible.

The three of them sag at once.

I make my way over to Gage, mostly for protection.

“What’s the agreement?” Dr. Oliver persists.

“It may have had something to do with his dreams.” I’m afraid to go on.

“Has Logan been utilizing his dream capabilities?” Emma looks astounded. “He can hardly function the next day. It zaps all his energy.”

“He’s letting that hag toy with the bird, isn’t he?” Marshall picks up a chair, only to smash it against the floor. It splinters into a dozen angry pieces and the entire lot of us just stand there, gaping at him.

“It may have happened a couple of times,” I whisper.

“Once was enough to seal his fate.” Marshall zeros in on me with his steely gaze. “Say you had no part in this, Skyla.”

I open my mouth to parrot back the words but they won’t come. Technically, I was present the first time, and Nev did insist I declare them legally joined in matrimonial bliss so I may have played some tiny part.

“Skyla,” Emma says my name in broken disappointment.

“What does this mean?” Dr. Oliver asks.

Gage secures his arms around my waist and pulls me in, and yet, it still feels like things are moving way too fast—as if I’m about to burst through the windshield of life and come out bloodied and bruised on the flesh deficient side of existence.

“It means,” Marshall growls, “Skyla here has just committed a breach of faith with the Justice Alliance.” Marshall pushes out a hard breath. “It makes perfect sense why they’ve called her to court.”

“Because they’re going to scold me?” Best case scenario.

“No, love,” Marshall simmers, “because they’re going to punish you.”

“I’m going with her.” Gage declares like he’s not taking no for an answer.

“Very well,” Marshall concedes, “we’ll see you there.”

He damn well knows Gage can’t get there on his own.

Marshall takes up my hand, and the two of us disappear.

Chapter 46

Petition for Mercy

The scenery changes. I tense up, half expecting to see my mother and the other celestial lunatics hurling brimstone in my direction, but I don’t. I see Marshall’s cavernous living room, and I let out a deep breath.

“Thank you,” I say. I need to get on Marshall’s good side and fast.

“For?” He flattens his palms against the heavily lacquered piano and stares into his rather pissed off reflection.

“You know—not taking me to my mother’s. It’s not like she can force me to show up.”

“She can and she will.”

“What’s she going to do, send a clown Fem after me? A pack of wild wolves?”

“No, Skyla. She sent me. I’m to bring you. We have less than five minutes, so let’s roll some ideas around before the only thing rolling is your newly severed head.”

An image of Chloe and her jaunt in the forest resurrects itself in my mind. That would be the ultimate punishment, hacking off my head and giving it to Chloe to use as field practice.

“You’re to tell her you knew nothing about the Pretty One’s actions until it was too late,” he instructs.

“Done.” And true, might I add.

“Tell her you’re adverse to the Transfer, and the thought of that sea hag makes your skin crawl.”

“Perfectly worded.” I placate him with a smile.

“Let her know you approve of whatever punishment she deems fit to give the perpetrator who dared revoke their retribution to society.” He jabs his finger hard in the air. “And you demand she ban the Oliver in question from your life forever.”

I shoot Marshall a look. He knows damn well I’d never say those things about Logan.

“I thought so.” He breathes his discontent.

“I heard a rumor you broke a rule for me.” I bite down on my lip as Marshall perks to attention. “You told Gage how to get to the tunnels.”

“It was a one way ticket—one time use. He’s lucky he came back alive.”

The thought of Gage giving his life to rescue me lends a powerful attraction to him, but then Marshall broke a rule. That’s a pearl of great price.

“So what happens? You know, to
you
.” I lay my hand over his back.

“I’ve but three errors to make, and I’ve generously made my fourth on your behalf. There’s a good chance she’ll end my stay here on the island—or worse.”

“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “I won’t let her. You’re always there for me. You’re better than she is in every way because you care about me infinitely more than she ever could.”

The room swelters. Heat rises in waves, melts the walls—the furniture pulses in and out like fumes penetrating the air.

“You do realize she listens.” Marshall’s voice comes in clear as we begin to disintegrate.

“Good. I plan on giving her an earful,” I say.

“So much for strategy.”

***

The plush violet sky above Ahava is illuminated with a nonstop nest of lightning, slightly reminiscent of the stone of sacrifice the night Chloe arranged for the Counts to take me. The same night Gage walked through an electrical current on my behalf. I should have known then his intentions were to never hurt me.

My mother sits on her invisible throne with Rothello dutifully next to her and the Marshall twins decorating each side like a set of stunning bookends. Rothello wears his dark hair past his shoulders.  He’s missing one eye because my favorite Sector yanked it out of his head and gifted it to Chloe in order to impress me. It might have impressed me a little. What impresses me more is that he’s broken his fourth rule for me. What in the hell is he thinking, anyway?

A hard clap of thunder explodes overhead. My mother in all of her ethereal beauty seethes in my direction.  Her hair blows back dramatically as if it’s trying to escape its follicular capture and sail right off her head in fright.

God—even the hair on her head is afraid of her. But it’s her eyes, those cold steel lasers that burn through my skull that assure me I really fucked up good this time. 

“Marshall,” I whisper, “I’m afraid.”

“Be afraid.”

I give a wry smile. Surely he could use his seductive reasoning skills to harness her estrogen and get her off my back for a while—like a lifetime would be nice.

A bolt of lightning refracts over the sapphire floor and Logan materializes, then Ezrina and Nev in tandem, both in their altered, cursed state of being.

Shit.

This is not going to end well.

My mother looks to the left, inspiring all heads to follow suit, including mine, which, by the way is still happily attached to my neck.

It’s Gage!

He comes over and takes up my hand. Giselle waves from the side and takes a seat on the grassy knoll behind me.

“Well,” my mother says, picking up her chin and staring down at the lot of us. She inspects us as if a bunch of maggots just sprouted before her, “since there are so many, I don’t see the harm of including one more.” She lifts a finger with little effort, and my father appears from nowhere.

“
Daddy
,” I shriek as I run out to tackle him.

He lunges into me and gives me a spin, kissing the top of my head like mad.

“Skyla?” He cradles my face in his hands before dotting a kiss on my nose. “How did this happen? Why is she here?” He says it sharp to my mother.

“Calm yourself, Nathan. She’s not dead—yet.” She directs us back to the crowd that anticipates her wrath in acres.

“Are you in court?” My father’s concern blooms like a mushroom cloud. “Skyla, no,” he whispers, shaking his head. His face bleeds out all color, and I’m pretty sure it’s a bad sign considering he’s been dead for a good long while.

My mother sounds a ruby gavel. “Let us refresh ourselves regarding the case of Ezrina MacAtter and Heathcliff O’Hare.” She sorts through a stack of velum papers with glowing letters that crawl along like an army of ants. They shift and rearrange themselves on the page as if to inform her of new things once she reads the old. “Ezrina, you fought against the wishes of the Faction Council and slaughtered two hundred forty-two Countenance soldiers. Is that correct?”

“Is.” Ezrina gives a slight courtesy, as if she were proud.

I wouldn’t go bragging, if I were her.

“Heathcliff.” My mother licks a finger before flipping a page in the illuminated legal documents spread out before her. Nevermore flies up and lands on my shoulder, as if to afford a better view. “You assisted in this vigilante behavior and added the souls of five hundred fifty-two of your own brothers.”

“This too is true.” Nev’s voice comes from his beak, and this unnerves me.

Oh, my freaking gosh, Nev and Ezrina undertook a Countenance massacre. They’re practically heroes in my book. They’re like the demigods of earth-bound justice, or titans of taking out the trash—forget the Justice Alliance or the Faction Council—Ezrina, Nev, and I should team up and form the Butcher Brigade—restore a little order by way of street justice. Ezrina sounds just as ticked at the Counts as I am, and, after all, revenge is personal.

She gives a menacing looking my direction. Her burnt orange hair rises like flames against the pale blue expanse.

“We can hear you, love.” Marshall dips into my mother as if he were speaking to her.

“Skyla.” My mother’s voice resonates throughout this strange dimensional plane. The water in the lake below vibrates in oscillating ripples. “You and Logan have already replicated their misguided depravity.”

“Depravity?” I balk.

“Not now,” Marshall, whispers.

“Yes, now,” I say, stepping forward, causing Nev to flee from me to Gage. “Do you realize they burn my people alive as a permanent means of taking them off the planet? If I remember correctly, you were one of them. And what about the tunnels?” I spin around to look at my father. “Which, by the way, I am privy to because the Counts have
captured
me.”

“What?” He looks up at my mother disbelieving. “Candace? Is this true?”

“Of course, it is,” I say, “I wouldn’t lie.” Not to him anyway.

My mother lifts her head and takes a breath, acknowledging the malfeasance against her own flesh and blood with a solid span of silence.

“It’s torment down there,” I continue. “It’s a living hell, and yes,
Mother,
I would most certainly say it falls under the category of depravity. Let me guess. I’m supposed to stick it out and take it up the tailpipe because you and your destination reputation are at stake.” Her face puckers. “You sit up here, high and mighty, and pretend you know exactly how this is going to pan out, when in reality it’s all out of your fucking control.”

An eerie silence stops up my ears. The waterfalls in the distance have hushed themselves—the lake, the breeze, nothing moves.

“Are you finished?” She offers a peaceable smile.

Logan and Gage both shoot me a look that suggests I’m very much done in more ways than one.

Am I? I’m pretty sure I have a rather long list of grievances I’d love to shout in her face, in front of her henchmen and my father, but, unfortunately, nothing else comes to mind.

“For now,” I say.

“Good.” She folds her hands in front of her. “We dole out the punishments.” She fans her hands out at those seated beside her. “We follow principles of behavior. We take verbal contracts seriously to the point of death, and we set in motion an entire list of rules for those of you dwelling on Earth to abide by, one of which is to obey authority—and for the Nephil kingdom that translates to the Faction Council. Rules are in place to enforce order. And you, Skyla and Logan—like Ezrina and Heathcliff, broke them. I’ve already made this clear to you once before.”