Toxic Part Two (Celestra Series Book 7.5) (11 page)

We head down to the basement, and I feel guilty as hell for keeping quiet. But the truth is, I don’t know what to say or how to say it. Every road, every conversation, seems to lead to pain these days for Logan and me. I pull him in and place a gentle kiss against his cheek.

“I still love you, Logan.” I press the words out with all my heart. “I will never stop. I don’t know what you did to me that day we met in the bowling alley—or before that in my dreams, but you shifted my entire existence on its axis. I will never recover. I will always need you, deeply—completely. I’m hungry for you in the worst way. I don’t think I could ever get enough.” I don’t think I’ve ever spoken the truth like that before, where it hurt like hell, where I could feel the breaking of a dam deep in my heart and it felt like the sweetest release. That was our relationship in a nutshell, pain and relief rolled into one. “I love you.” I peck another kiss just shy of his lips. “I love you more than the heavens love the sun and the moon.”

“I know,” he says it low, a smile of satisfaction ready to bloom on his lips. “We just need to get back on track. I was the one who said after the faction war. The Counts may have tried to kill us without the war—but the truth is, they needed it to happen. They’ve been manipulating us this entire time. We were brought together, you and me, two near perfect Celestra, to desire one another.”

“Oh my God.” I envision my mother doing the celestial happy dance once she lined us up in one another’s sight. We were nothing more than the propagation of a species. “She did this,” I hiss. “My own mother snatched you out of an entirely different period in time and put you here in front of me. She took one look at you and knew I’d fall in love.”

“Gage couldn’t start the war. He may have had your heart, but he wouldn’t have had the right blood, the proper motive to fight. It started with our love, Skyla. Gage may have been meant for you, but she backtracked—handpicked me for a reason.” He nods into my theory. “But I don’t think she found herself in a pickle and started scratching her head trying to figure out what to do. I think this”—he opens his arms at the sparse offerings—“was a part of it all along. I was meant to be here with you right from the beginning.”

“I believe it.” I pull him in. I don’t doubt for a minute my mother has a higher agenda in all of this, something bigger than pulling Logan in to seduce me, win my heart. It was something that involved Celestra and humanity as a whole.  

I try to shake the thought away by retrieving the metallic version of Gage from my purse. “Marshall says I should return this.” I hand him the figurine as I lead him into the cavernous room with the makeshift island. Logan walks house to house exploring while I replace Gage safely in the Oliver abode. I go over and pick up Marshall’s house and sure enough there I am. And so is…Michelle?

“Oh my God.” I pick up the frazzled looking girl, her face locked in a scream. “This is Michelle—she fell in that haunted mirror.”

“She still in there?” He comes over and inspects her tiny effigy.

“As far as I know. Marshall is waiting for her to come out and tell him all about the good time she’s not having. Remind me to never get on his bad side.” I look up at Logan accusingly because we both know he beat me to it.

“Let’s see what else is down here.” Logan takes my hand, expertly changing the subject. He leads me through a maze of hallways until we stumble upon a door and Logan opens it with caution.

It’s pitch black inside, save for a movie projected onto the rear wall. It’s a viewing room complete with large velvet chairs—enough to hold fifty people easily.

“That’s you,” Logan whispers, pulling me deeper into the mysterious room.

My body moves on the screen. I wave back at the camera, my face the size of a refrigerator.

“Come here,”
I call, waving someone over. I can’t believe it’s me, same hair, same face—dressed in clothes I don’t recognize—a sweatshirt with the word “Host” written across the front.

“Let me set this thing down,”
a male voice booms through the speakers. The camera shakes before panning back to a large white house—me happy dancing on the porch in anticipation.

“That’s the house I want to build for us,” Logan marvels. “That’s exactly how I envision it.”

“You ready to do this?”
A dark-haired man in a baseball cap fast approaches the foreign version of me. I can tell from the broad shoulders, the wavy dark hair peeking out from under his hat, it’s Gage.

I watch as I hop up and down on the porch, giddy as a child.
“Yes!”
It bumps out of me.

Gage scoops me up in his arms and spins me before landing a tender kiss on the lips.

“To our first official home on Paragon,”
he says, whisking me to the open mouth of the doorway.

“Only home,”
I correct, pulling him closer by the beak of his hat.
“Gimme a forever kiss,”
I say before we lock lips under the threshold of Logan’s dream home. I pull back and glance at the camera in horror. “
Turn that off
.” My face goes white as if I’m reliving an unwanted memory. I make a mad dash to shut off the camera and my fingers collapse over the lens—the sky, the sea rotate in turn before the screen in Demetri’s demented viewing room goes blank.

Something is happening. This isn’t real. None of this has ever happened. But dear God, will it?

“Let’s get out of here.” My voice shakes as I say it. I pull Logan by the hand until we emerge in the hall. I examine the disappointment in his eyes like he were just given a grim diagnosis. “It’s just some head-game Demetri’s playing. He can do anything. He’s a Fem, remember?”

“And what if it’s not a game?” Logan could cut steel with the anger in his eyes. “What if I’ve already given Gage all the foothold he needs? What if it were nothing more than a glimpse into the future.” 

Chapter 68

The Cape

In the evening, Logan and I arrive at the distal end of the island, to a lush Eden known as the Cape. Its overgrown vegetation lends a tropical feel to the landscape, laden with three-story palms and birds of paradise that stretch well past my head. Bushels of knotgrass dot the path down to the white sandy shore where they greet the glittering expanse of the ocean.

Tons of people from both East and West have arrived and are already setting up camp like they’re settling in for weeks.

The moon pours its beams over us and dusts the water with a reflective luminescent bloom.

“Girls’ tents.” Logan points to the left. “Boys’ tents.” He crimps a smile. “That lasts for about an hour.”

Drake mills around behind Logan while yapping it up with Emily. I suspect Brielle is here somewhere having her heart broken all over again. I might have to pull my goofy step monkey to the side and have a serious talk with him about how to treat the mother of his child.

Still no sign of Mirror-bound Miller. If she doesn’t show by morning, I’m going to have to do something idiotic like dive in and get her myself.

“So where’s the bathroom?” I give a quick looksee past Logan’s shoulder. I totally have to go. I’ve been holding it since we rushed out of Marshall’s with my stuff in tow and now I’m going to have to go in a tent or one of those hot smelly Porta Potties you see at construction sites and concerts.

“What bathroom?” Logan raises his brows amused. He’s got a wicked look on his face, and I’m not liking this one freaking bit.

I shuffle my legs in tandem. “Seriously, I’m going have an accident.” I stop short of informing him that the sound of crashing waves is not doing anything to help the situation.

Drake pops up. “Doing the potty dance, sis?” He gives an evil grimace. I really don’t get what either Emily or Brielle see in him. “That,” he says, pointing to the Pacific, “is for number one. And this”—he holds up a hand shovel clotted with dirt—“is for number two.”

I shriek and jump backward, knocking straight into a body.

“Whoa.” It’s Ellis. “The shit shovel got you running for cover?” He holds out a hand as he heads off toward the girls’ tent.

I glare over at Logan. “
Shut
up.” If he told me there were no accommodations, I might have thought long and hard before deploying myself to an area of the island devoid of indoor plumbing.

Drake barks out a laugh at my dismay so I give him the stink-eye until he slinks back to Emily, shit shovel in hand. I suppose it makes it easier to unload all the crap that comes out of him—from both ends.

Logan gives a little laugh and reels me in. Stubble peppers his face and glows a warm gold as the silent orb of the moon dances overhead. He’s so handsome tonight, so desperately sad and on, this, his birthday.

“I swear there’s an outhouse about a quarter mile up the beach.” Logan settles his hands high up over my waist and sways his hips into mine. His affect brightens as he touches me. It enlivens him from the inside. The soft scent of his cologne rides the breeze and eclipses my senses. It brushes over my skin with its musk, washes through my hair to savor for later. “Just say the word and I’ll make the trek with you.”

“Now there’s a romantic proclamation,” I tease. “Thank you.”

The subtle illumination from above makes Logan shine like a supernatural being. It’s so easy like this with him. I wonder how far we would’ve gotten by now if the Counts hadn’t taken our love and hacked it down at the base—dug up the roots and made us eat them for breakfast. I wonder if he would have already had me, loved me until I was delirious like he promised.

Logan gives the slight impression of a smile and runs his bare arm over mine letting me know he hears.

We can still find out, Skyla. The war ends. I already know this.

Tell me everything.
I twirl my fingers against the back of his neck—feel his soft fine hair spin over my flesh like silk.

“Here’s the birthday boy.” Gage crops up next to Logan with a marked look of irritation—no smile, not the slightest hint of jovial inflection in his voice.

I take it the PDA Logan and I are setting off isn’t sitting well with him.

“Found me.” Logan drops his hands from my waist. “I think I left something in the truck.” His eyes lock with mine for a moment—they say,
Gage can take you to the end of the faction war and no farther.
“See you around,” he says it sad, beaten down before disappearing into the shrubbery.

Ellis cruises by with some chick from East, wearing frosted lipstick that glows off her tawny skin. Her hair is disheveled as if they’ve already indulged in a wild romp.

“Say, Ellis?” I don’t mean to pin Gage like this, but right now I can’t think of any other way. “Did you win the last region for the Counts?”

“What?” His head ticks back a notch. “My dad would have bought me a new effing truck if I did that.” His eyes widen as the lightbulb of all bad ideas goes off in his head.

“No, Ellis,” I reprimand him like I’m talking to my sister’s dog, Sprinkles, back at the house. “I won’t pretend to be your girlfriend if you even entertain such a horrible thing. They’re committing serious atrocities against Celestra and I can only put up with so much crap from you and your daddy.”

He gives a sly smile. “That’s why I like you, Messenger. You kick ass and take names.” He gives a thumbs-up before heading off. “Let me know if you need me for leak patrol. I’ll go for a long walk with you anytime,” he says it suggestively as he follows the girl with the day glow lipstick into the bushes for round two.

“What was that about?” Gage digs his dimples in and slays me without trying.

“You tell me.” I try not to get caught up in the fact he just wrapped his arms around me, that he’s dotting my neck with a series of molten-hot kisses. Gage Oliver doesn’t fight fair, that’s for damn sure.

“Tell you what?” He moans as he buries his face in my hair.

Who am I kidding? Gage as the enemy is not going to play out well. I’ll just have to use his affections until I can, God forbid, get him to fess up to being one of Chloe’s droids. Unless, of course, he’s not, and if that film back at Demetri’s was any indication of the future, then this could very well be Logan’s worst nightmare.

Gage walks me backward into a thicket of overgrown trees with dew-covered leaves, so wide and flat, you could cover half your body with them. He moves his meandering kisses up to my lips and delivers me momentarily from the evils of thinking he were capable of anything but loving me.

“Let me take you somewhere.” He blows it in my ear with a heated rush.

I know he means teleport, and I’m pretty sure a hotel room on the thirteenth floor is involved. He could still very well be a culprit in my life, an accomplice of Chloe’s. I should take caution when saying hello, let alone diving into the backwoods of reality with him. But his kisses are so damn persuasive, I’m finding it difficult to say no.

“I’ll go, but you have one minute.” Honestly, if I hadn’t capped it off at such a ridiculously short amount of time, who knows how fast my clothes would have flown off—plus, a quick dip in the Pacific is becoming increasingly necessary for the safety of my bladder.

“Just one minute.” He seals his lips over mine and I drink him down, so thirsty for Gage as we melt into a different climate.

I can feel the sand shift beneath my feet as the perfumed air gives way to the dizzying scent of crushed ferns, intermingled with the ripe scent of the jungle. The sun tries to penetrate my lids with its lingering rays, but Gage is full tilt, loving me as he whisks us from one sandy beach to the next. 

Gage rattles off country after country, refusing to let his lips leave mine. I can feel the scenery changing, unfolding around us in all of the magnificence the earth has to offer but our lips stay true to their mission. We experience the world through one long passion-derived kiss as the salty air prickles against our skin.  

We let out kisses linger in the Caribbean. Our feet soak in the warm sand of Martinique—Whitehaven Australia holds us with its warm embrace.

“Fifty two beaches.” He pants into his boast.

“You’re a real inter-planet ace,” I say, breathless from his display of teleportation prowess as the brooding scenery of the Cape fills in around us. “And all that in under a minute.”