Burn (18 page)

I peer in closer and see light in the form of translucent people.

“Fascinating.” I run my finger over the soft red wall. “So then,
who
are you supposed to be with?” Obviously Sectors have a sexual nature, unless of course Marshall is some sort of defect.

“The deceased.” He points inside the cave. Two disembodied women appear, both with startled expressions. The man in the cave lets them know they’ll be carried upwards momentarily. “Or the
Caelestis
,” Marshall says, flicking a finger skyward as though I should know what he’s talking about.

“What’s a
Caelestis
?”

“Angels are men who serve in the divine armed forces, and
Caelestis
…” He squints into the moon as though trying to figure out the best way to describe them. “They’re on the decision council. They make suggestions and assist in the mapping out of peoples lives.”

“So the men fight wars and the women decide what to do? How original.”
 

“They decide what
should
to be done,” he corrects. “When dealing with humans, always lower expectation, then lower it some more.”

“Gee thanks.” I roll my eyes at the thought. “So are they beautiful?”

“They are, but you my love, are stunning.” Marshall takes me in and swallows hard. “Anyway,” he says tapping the side of the rock wall. “Transport duty is grueling,” he whispers looking back inside the cave.

Another group of disembodied people appear. Two of them go down, the rest go up.

“They’re dying?”
I’m fascinated by this
.

“Dead.” Marshall turns to face me, brushes my hair back with his fingers. “I’ve made arrangements to be on transport duty the day you arrive in that tunnel. I’m going to be the one to bring you safe to your final destination,
Skyla
.” His eyes circle around my face, in a soft sad manner.

Something warms inside me. The thought of death scares me, but knowing Marshall will be there somehow makes it feel all right—safe.

“Thank you.”

“Would you like that kiss now?” The words purr out of him. The pale moonlight glides across his face and smoothes away any malfeasance.

“Yes.”

Marshall gently cups my cheeks and indulges in a greedy lust-soaked kiss.

In my mind, I see Logan speaking to me. He looks intent on something—sad.
 
I see myself turn away and start to cry. He tries to comfort me, but I shake my head, bring my hands to my eyes and cover my face.
 

I pull back and stare into Marshall. “What does it mean?” I say out of breath.

“It means you’re one step closer to being my wife.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

This Kiss
 

All night I ruminate over Gage in hell, and that vision Marshall gave me, until my sanity begins to erode.

In the morning, I beg Drake to drive me over to the Oliver’s house. I tell Mom and Tad it’s mandatory cheer practice, and that afterwards, I’m starting my new job at the bowling alley.

I ring the bell impatiently as Drake backs sloppily out of the driveway taking out an entire row of purple flowers that, moments ago, happily dotted the periphery.

A storm is rolling in. The dark sky looms overhead heavy as a battleship. There’s something about the lavender afterglow inside the clouds that reminds me of that kiss from Marshall. A shiver runs through me. I don’t dare advertise the fact to either Logan or Gage that I let him near me for a hypothetical glimpse into the future.

The door opens slowly. Dr. Oliver’s face brightens as he extends his hand for me to come inside.

“Here to give another pint?”

“Sure. Mostly I’m here to see Gage.” I leave out the part about him going to hell.

“He’s having a late start today, still in bed. If you want I can take it now. I’m leaving in a few minutes for a meeting.”
  
 

“OK.” I follow Dr. Oliver in the kitchen where he pulls his equipment out from a side pantry and begins to drain my blood into a soft plastic bag. “So this is number five or six?” I’m starting to lose count.

“I believe it’s five. Are you feeling alright?” He presses the back of his hand to my forehead. “You look ghastly pale.”

“I feel fine.” Truth is I’m beyond exhausted. Last night was more than my body could handle.

“There.” He removes the needle and quickly replaces it with a band-aid. “Let’s remove the stitches shall we?”

“Please.” I pluck off my scarf and roll it into a pile next to me.

“What’s this?” He gently turns my head to the side and groans. “Which one of my boys assaulted you this way?”

I’m assuming he’s looking at the purple hickey the size of Mount Rushmore just below my cut.

“Actually…” God, how do I say neither? “It was an accident.”

He rubs his finger gently against my neck and sighs before removing the stitches.

“
Skyla
, tell the truth, what happened?” His eyes rove over my face deep with concern.

“I thought it was Gage. It was some guy, he…it felt like—”

“You have a puncture wound—several actually, right over your jugular.”

“Are you saying I was bit…
”
I don’t believe in vampires, so I stop the thought midflight.

“I’m saying someone, most likely someone who knows you’re a
Celestra
, punctured your neck. Did it feel like they were suckling blood from you?”

I wince when he says the word suckling. Dr. Oliver reminds me of my own dad and it just sounds wrong even if it is in a quasi-medical context.

“Yes.”

“I thought you looked pale. I wish I had known—I would never have taken more blood. Do you feel faint?”

“No, I’m fine.” Suddenly I feel like shit, but I chalk it up to the thought of someone actually drinking my blood. “You mind if I go up and see Gage?”

“Go right ahead.”

I make my way towards the stairwell.

“
Skyla
?”

I turn around.

“Whoever did this will undoubtedly be
back.
Prepare to defend yourself.”

“I will.”

I’m so weak it takes all my strength to make it up the stairs.

**
*
 
 

I knock gently on his door before entering.

“Morning,” Gage says, groggy, pulling a shirt from his dresser. His hair is slicked back, shiny and wet from the shower. He’s got on a pair of grey sweats with a small hole near his hip. I’m trying to remember whether or not I’ve seen Gage shirtless before because I’m perplexed by the hard outline of his abdominals. He tosses the shirt over his shoulder and groans. “I feel horrible.” He walks over to his bed and falls back against the pillow, covering his eyes with the back of his arm.

I make my way over and lie beside him.

“What happened?” I pull his arm off his face, and he drapes it over my shoulders instead.

“I was just standing out front, and the next thing I knew I was in this dirt pit at least ten feet under. It felt like I fell in an oven. I kept thinking I was going to combust.” He grips his hair. “And there was all this moaning and screaming…anyway, there was this iron grate up over me and I couldn’t get out. I woke up in my bed this morning. When I looked out the window, sure enough my mom’s car was in the driveway.”

“I bet Marshall wants you to think it was a dream. Remember, he’s not a Sector to you, he’s just your Algebra Two teacher,” I pause. “I’m so sorry. Did you try teleporting yourself out of there?”

“All night. It was useless. Don’t worry it’s not your fault.” He surprises me with a sudden burst of energy and pulls me over on top of him. “You know what I thought of?” There’s a seductive quality to his voice. His eyes look a deep indigo in this dull morning light as they warm over me.

“What?” My breathing grows erratic. Something about Gage, something powerfully attractive about the way he seduces me with those barely there dimples, with that hidden beneath the surface smile he refuses to give so freely.

“What you said the other day. That you loved me.”

Everything in me clinches. It’s true I had said it and I meant it—still do.

I dip down and kiss him ever so slightly. His chest beats under mine in a series of merciless thumps.

“Do you love me,
Skyla
?”

“Yes,” it comes out an inaudible whisper.

His hand pushes in softly against the back of my neck. Gage gives a deep heated kiss that accentuates our feelings. I may be afraid to say it, hesitant to repeat those words, but I feel it, and I know with everything in me that it’s true. I really do love Gage.

We lose ourselves in a series of lingering kisses. Gage runs his hands through my hair, down my back, over my jeans. I pull my lips down along his neck and across his chest.
 
He lets out a soft groan and pulls me up until we’re sitting. The room spins slightly, and he stops me from falling backwards.

“You OK?”

“Yeah.” I pull him into another explosive kiss. I’m more than OK.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Prophesy

Gage and me arrive at the bowling alley where, evidently, Logan is busy creating a dust cloud with a dust mop.

It’s strange to be here so early. The lanes are lit up, and music echoes throughout the establishment, but there’s not a patron in sight.

“Morning.” I go over and give him a brief hug. I feel so damn guilty about what just happened, I
can’t
look him in the eye. It’s like my feelings for Gage just took over. I’d love to blame it on the fact I was worried sick that Marshall had him roasting on a spit, but I’m not sure I could. I’m not sure about anything anymore.
 

“I’ve got something for you.” Logan gives a soft smile and plucks a nametag off his clipboard. “Ready to work?” Something about Logan feels different this morning. He’s melancholy—the spark in his eyes has dissipated.

“Yes! Is the pay decent?” I’d work here for free if wanted.

“Minimum wage.” He presses right into me with those expressive amber eyes, reaches in and wrenches me with a look of infinite sadness.

“Minimum wage is totally fine.” I’m just glad to be out of the house. I pick up the gold embossed tag that reads
Skyla
Messenger. “It feels official,” I say pinning it up on my shirt.

“What are you still doing here?” His voice hardens over at Gage.

Gage doesn’t say anything, just keeps his hands folded tight across his chest.

“Pick you up at seven?” Gage comes over and drops a kiss on the top of my head.

Everything in me freezes. I can’t have Gage kissing me in front of Logan. I can’t be kissing Gage behind Logan’s back. Suddenly, I feel like a giant bag of crap because apparently I am one.