Logan
I usually dream of Skyla—that brilliant smile, how I long to taste it. But last night I dreamed of Paragon, some apocalyptic version set in the future. I was standing outside of Whitehorse, staring up at the lonely looking windows, the entire house a darker version of itself, miserable and demonic, lost in as much disrepair as despair. The doors were askew. The rolling green lawn that I pay dearly to have manicured for Skyla once a week was gone—in its place clots of dirt, patches of baldness exemplifying the disaster at hand. The sky was black and purple, dark clouds blotched the expanse like mold spores, ominous and dangerous. The evergreens swayed orange in the wind. Their time had come and gone, leaving the island filled with kindling, begging to be transformed into a bonfire. A sense of fear gripped me as I recalled the bowling alley. I turned slowly to find it reduced to rubble, the giant tacky barn cut down to bright red matchsticks, the newly installed gym with its bright Las Vegas neon sign hacked down with it, and I groan hard like a dying man. It was the kiss of death in a world I no longer recognized. It was as if I could handle the iron sky, the bronze earth, but removing the bowling alley was tantamount to removing the breath in my lungs.
But what gripped me and stayed with me long after I showered this morning as I walked through the rain to the tacky barn that withstood my nightmare was the fact that I knew things would only get worse for us. Something bad had already happened, and I accepted the fact that more shit news was on the way. That feeling right there has left me unsettled the better half of the morning. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. A dream has never felt more real. What could upturn our world so completely? What was that dream trying to tell me? And, my God, can it be stopped? I know one thing for certain—I will never accept that level of chaos. I will never allow our world to get any worse. If anything good came out of it, a sense of resolve was born within me. A fire lit in the pit of my soul for my people, for the fractured Factions, for Skyla and the boys, for all of humanity. The world is already rolling round in spiritual lava. I’ll move heaven and earth to make sure it doesn’t get any worse.
June melted away quickly like fog getting swallowed down at Silent Cove. July came and went with a whimper, my birthday celebrated with an afternoon at Pike’s Reef with all of my friends. Skyla and Gage masterminded the effort and I appreciated it. Something about it felt normal, healthy, like something all of our sick souls needed to heal from the tension plaguing the island like a disease. August sprang up like a gravestone, cold and gray, something you’d much rather step around and avoid altogether. But here we are, in the thick of it.
The bowling alley is slow this monsoon-like afternoon. Dismal and dreary, dark and damp. There is not a positive adjective left on this island this afternoon.
A figure darkens the entry, tall, long wool coat, wide brimmed hat with a waterfall cascading off it as he plucks it off.
“Marshall Dudley,” I grunt as I cast a quick glance to Bree and Lexy who are pulling a shift in the kitchen for me. Bree came back to work at the bowling alley last week. Said the feds were after her mattress account, seizing assets for unpaid back taxes, something about orange prison uniforms hanging in the balance. I have no problem with Bree working for me. In fact, I’ll give her any shift she wants. As much as I’m sorry about Drake and Bree’s sudden reversal of fortune, I gladly welcome the buffer she provides between Lexy and me. “What can I do for you?” I flip the rag off my shoulder and buff out the fingerprints over the granite counter. The church’s youth group is busy enjoying the lanes, and every now and again a congratulatory cheer comes from that direction.
“Nothing, apparently,” Dudley mutters mostly to himself as he settles his elbow on the other side of the counter. Dudley closes his eyes a moment. “Twelve Noster were killed at a company picnic in Duwalt, Indiana.” His cheeks pucker with a dash of an ironic smile. “It’s all over the news. Every talking head is gleefully going over each gory detail. An armed man made his way to the field and shot them all as they huddled. Pumped them with bullets, then fled the scene. Still at large.” He shakes his head just enough. “He won’t be found.”
“Crap.” I inch back in disbelief. “You think it’s a coincidence?”
He smacks his lips, that perennial look of disappointment draws out in his eyes. “If you consider it so, you’re a bigger fool than I’ve pegged you. You certainly are no relation of mine. In the least your gray matter has been drastically deluded.”
I think on it a moment. “Twelve dead Noster. An act of utter violence.” I slap my hand over the counter hard enough to break every bone. “Shit.”
“Shit is right.” He glares at me with those fiery eyes, and I’m caught off guard a moment, unsure whether or not I just heard Dudley curse for the very first time or if he was simply parroting me. Probably both.
Another thought lurches at me, far more alarming than Dudley unleashing a few blatant expletives. My blood runs cold at the thought. We’ve known it was coming, but in no way are we anywhere near prepared.
“It’s an act of war,” I say it low as if to deny the words their right to exist.
“Not yet. But it’s a step in the right direction. The drums are getting louder, Young Oliver. My people are unsettled. Your people are going to die. And thanks to that ex mother-in-law of yours, you will have a front row seat to the destruction.” He leans in hard. “She has gifted you the power to take this into your hands, Logan.” His voice shakes with rage, his eyes so completely focused on mine it raises the hairs on the back of my neck. “Surely you can use what brain cells you do have and come up with a way to bring much-needed salvation to your people and mine. There are souls in the bound. Your ex-wife has put us all in great peril. She will no more listen to me than she will that moron of a stepfather she lives with. Logan, I implore you to take the reins. You and I must usurp her majesty. Her heart has already usurped her people.”
“What’s this?” a cheery voice calls from the entry, and we look over to find Gage Oliver bounding this way with a slight spring in his step. I can’t help but scowl at him. It seems to be my go-to response whenever my nephew is around these days. Nothing has been the same between us for months. I’d like to think one day soon things will snap back into place for us, but I don’t see that happening at the moment or any foreseeable moment after that. Not to mention the fact he keeps prodding at Skyla with that golden club tucked between his legs. I’ve kissed her more than I would have imagined post our brief marriage but for all the wrong reasons. “A meeting of the minds?”
Dudley straightens, his chest out like a baboon’s. “A bit soon to be giddy after the slaughter, don’t you think?”
Gage gives a slow blink as that grin glides right off his face. He looks to me, and a moment of silence bounces between us. My God, he did it. Dudley is right. We are walking straight into a war. This is going to be hell. Brother against brother. Gage against me. How will we ever survive this?
Gage steps in close, his head tilted to the side the way he does when he’s trying desperately to convince me of something. His dark hair, those stormy blue eyes, the scent of his thick cologne, everything about him is so unsettlingly familiar, but he’s become a stranger to me and I hate it. “I’m assuming you’ve heard the good news by now. Skyla talked to Candace. We can marry again. It’s settled. Things will go back to normal. The covenant will act as an umbrella of peace for the Factions as well. Seven years she’s given me. I know it will evaporate like water, but once Candace sees that I’ve held up my end of the deal, we’re sure she’ll extend it. It’s brilliant and it’s beautiful and it keeps Skyla and me where we like it best—together.”
His eyes oscillate slightly the way they’re prone to do when he’s not telling the truth. “You don’t believe it.” I don’t hesitate calling him out on the lie.
He glances to Dudley. “It’s what I want.”
But nothing you can do, I want to say. It’s not necessary, though. We can smell the despair on him. It’s sickening. And yet a pinhole of hope spears through my dark soul, and for a second I believe I can make it happen for him. Maybe I can, but I sure as hell won’t.
Dudley takes a deep breath as if girding himself for more bad news. “When is the event? I’ll make sure to keep my calendar clear.”
Gage twitches his lips. “I don’t remember throwing out the invite.”
“I don’t need one.” He doesn’t hesitate with the reply. “Skyla is family.”
“Fair enough. My birthday.” He looks to me and nods. “Skyla’s deadline is now her new wedding date. Midnight to be exact. It’s a sacred time for us, so it made sense.”
Deadline. Yes. Skyla mentioned that Candace wants all of her fornicating efforts to cease and desist or she’ll lose all her powers by her birthday. Candace knows how to wield a celestial threat with the best of them. Hell, she is the best of them.
“The twins were born hours apart just like you and Skyla.” I frown without meaning to. As much as I love Gage—and I do love him—I cannot let this farce take place. Sorry, buddy, but I will do everything in my power to stop it. And God, if I fuck this up, Skyla might lose either way. She loses Gage, or she loses her powers—because she’ll be too stubborn to leave him. I’ll have to speak with Candace. The only real way I’m guessing Skyla can forgo her powers is if she doesn’t marry the one she’s physically with by then. Marrying Gage would fit the bill, but it would also kill her people. Skyla is just too blindsided by her devotion to see it for the death warrant it really is. I’m not getting Candace’s intentions either. She abhors the idea of Skyla marrying Gage. But, maybe the truth is that she abhors a fornicating daughter just a little bit more.
“What can I do for you, man?” My heart gives a couple quickened thumps. “Anything. Name it.” It’s almost true.
He sharpens those dark brows over at me. “Good. I need you to get Kresley out of Raven’s Eye.” His dimples dig in as his features harden. Both Gage and I know that rescuing Kresley will be no easy feat.
Marshall huffs a dull laugh. “Relegating the dirty work to Celestra. You’re a man after your father’s heart. And what reason do you have for passing along the task? Is scheduling out of sorts these days due to the upcoming wedding? Or are you simply interested in eliminating the competition? Logan, take note.”
Gage snarls at him a moment. “I wanted to go. I’ve spent months trying to find a better way.” He bears into me with a desperation that assures me the sentiment is true. “But Demetri brought up a few good points, and I can’t argue with him. Logan, I swear to you, in no way am I trying to put you in danger or eliminate the competition. That’s not what we’re about, nor will we ever be. You’re my brother. I want and need you safe. If I thought there was someone else who could pull it off, I’d ask them. You’re the best and the brightest. And right now, you’re Kresley’s only hope.”
The air thickens with silence as I try to hold up the ten-thousand pound bowling ball Gage just hurled my way. I don’t have any ties to Kresley, no real reason to risk my life for her, but she’s a person, a member of the Factions, and I know for certain she’s going through hell.
“She’s having my brother’s baby.” Gage lifts a brow. “Wes wants her brought to the Transfer. Once you do your thing, I’ll get her where she needs to be.”
Marshall closes his eyes a moment. “The audacity to bark out orders at your elder as if he were a subordinate.” He looks to me and glowers. “Surely you will consider the ramifications such a mission would provide. I’ll leave you be to square away the details.” He steps in close. “Do not believe the rumors of peace. They are greatly exaggerated.” He plants his hat back on his head and stalks out into the rain.
I take a deep breath and look sorrowfully at the shell of the boy I once knew. So much has shifted in our worlds we hardly recognize ourselves.
“I’m in.” I hold out my hand, and that look of regret on his face magnifies before he shakes it.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
Gage let me know Demetri pointed out that his face is running around on Paragon in too many forms—Wes and the boys. And as much as I couldn’t care less what happened to Wes, in no way would I want to endanger Nathan or Barron. As far as my ragtag army goes for this special ops mission, there’s no way I’m bringing anyone else into the actual compound with me, but I thought it would be helpful to have Brody and Ellis on the island. When and if I get out with Kres, they’re to text Gage and let him know to pick us up—and God forbid if I need help they’ll provide that, too. There are too many variables, too many what-ifs to guarantee if I’ll be coming back out of that government hellhole at all. This way, if I don’t come out, Gage won’t be popping over to the island every few minutes endangering himself or his children any more than necessary just to see if I’m ready for a ride home. Not that I could stop him from rescuing me if need be. And for that reason alone, I’m determined not to get caught. I need both Kres and me to get the hell out of there.
Gage mentioned that Candace charged him with freeing Kresley. Maybe if I do it myself, it’ll give both me and the Factions a leg up. I scratch your celestial back. You scratch mine. And God knows I’m itching for Skyla. Ever since I realized it was to her detriment to be with Gage, it was as if a chain snapped and the tension I’ve been hauling around all these years evaporated into thin air. Deep down, I’ve always felt it should have been Skyla and me. The good guy in me didn’t want to believe it, but that stubborn asshole who is alive and well has always demanded that she’s mine. Turns out, he was right.
The first stop on this crazy train is Whitehorse. Ezrina’s lair to be exact, where it takes her less than ten seconds to inject that security chip she extracted from Tad into my arm. Nev hands me a uniform he and Ezrina whipped up that looks identical to the one Tad wears, right down to the security badge sewn onto the chest. Ezrina spends a painstaking amount of time gifting me new latex features, a larger nose, bright blue eyes, moles, and pocked skin. She all but shaved off my eyebrows. My once blonde hair has gone cherry red for the day. I’m no longer recognizable, least of all to myself.
Gage assists in transporting me, and the motley crew I’ve put together, to Raven’s Eye, dropping Brody and me off in the dark woods. It’s a moonless evening, fog thick as pea soup, so in that respect Mother Nature is in our corner. Gage transports Ellis to the back to cut the power, and in less than thirty seconds, the lights flicker around the building before going out. Nev gave Ellis explicit directions for cutting both the power and screwing up the generator for a short time without electrocuting himself. Gage is whisking him back to Paragon after. His face is masked, as is Brody’s, but mine is in the open, for all to see and memorize—altered as it might be.
Brody pulls me in as if he’s about to offer up an embrace, his fingers pressing in over my arm just above the wrist. Three things: You have less than seven minutes. The place is filled to the brim with Spectators who will grunt like apes once they spot you. And you cannot fuck this up or all of the Factions will be back on the chopping block once again pronto.
I slap him on the back and give a curt nod before taking off. He’s right on all accounts. I stride out of the protective hedge of the forest and quickly scamper to the block-shaped building as gray as the infernal sky. The fog wafts by like ghosts, thick and ominous. The double-doored entry to the place is reminiscent of a grocery store with iron bars running across the front—an upgrade since my last break-in at his exclusive taxpayer-sponsored resort. A couple of men walk by as I run my wrist over the bright yellow security square just the way Ezrina instructed and nothing. Not that I expected anything. A tall dude with a weapon strapped to his chest that looks like a bazooka over his chest nods to me before opening the door.
“Damn electricity’s out. He pulls out a metal handheld scanner and shoots my left wrist with a red laser. “Going manual today. Sorry, man.” He nods me in, and I take off down the hall. Security has been beefed up, no doubt. I’m guessing the weapon I couldn’t quite identify is the only thing they could find to subdue the Spectators if they get out. And although with the electricity disabled, the risk of them unleashing is probably still pretty low. I’m guessing they’ve got them under good old-fashioned lock and key—as well as under heavy sedation. But with me here, the odds of them running wild have just increased markedly. I’ve brought my Celestra strength to break down any iron bars that might be holding them back—it might help that my strength only magnifies when I’m stressed as shit, and lucky for those Spectators, I’m stressed as shit.
But I’ll need them as a diversion. They are plan A at the moment. The hall is diffused of all light. A couple of disgruntled gentlemen with bright orange shirts that read maintenance cuss up a storm as they stalk on by. An entire small army of men and women in white lab coats stream into the halls with a collective panic. A shorter woman with a mop of dark hair and oversized glasses with bright blue frames grabs ahold of me.
“What’s going on? Why isn’t the generator kicking in? I thought your people guaranteed no more security breaches? Those beasts penned on thirteen won’t need two minutes to flood the island. You’re putting us all in danger!”
I pull out my Ruger and flash it at her. “You’re all safe, ma’am. Security’s got this handled. They’re working on the electrical system as we speak. I’ll head to thirteen myself to protect you.”
Her face floods with relief.
I start to take off, then backtrack. “And the girl? The one with the baby? Where is she? I’ll make sure those beasts stay far away from her.”
A horrible thumping emanates from down the hall, and she jolts in a panic. “The girl is in Wing B.” She glances down the hall behind her, and I take note.
A thunderous roar rattles the establishment, and the woman screams bloody murder while bolting for the exit. The end of the hall darkens as it fills with bodies. I give a few hard blinks at what I see. It can’t be.
“Holy shit.” I take a few steps backward. “What in the hell?” Monsters. Eight to ten feet at least. These are not the Spectators of yesteryear. Nope. These are mega zombies on steroids, their bodies hulkish in girth, skin in tatters—a deep purple hue, the demonized looks on their faces are enough to frighten even me. It looks as if they won’t be needing my Celestra strength to free them after all. I take off toward the left as a bright red sign that reads Wing B greets me, but for the life of me I can’t find a single door or window. A group of men all wearing the same uniform I’ve donned walk at a quickened clip in the other direction.
“Code gray”—the sound of a booming voice fills the corridor, and I spot a man at the end of the hall with a megaphone. He shouts those same words over and over until it sounds as if he’s floated off to another planet. I’m shocked to find the building draining of its employees, and then it hits me. They’ve probably instructed them to do just that. Get outside to safety and let the boys with the wannabe bazookas shoot on sight at the beasts they’ve inadvertently created. How in the hell that happened, I do not want to know.
I round the corner and find a glass door with a security officer outside looking as if he’s about to shit his pants. He’s smaller in stature. He’s jittery, wild-eyed, and full of palpable fear.
“I’m here to relieve you.” What the hell. It might work. What else could a guy like him want to hear?
“Thanks, man.” He slaps me five. “I owe you.” He’s so busy stealing glances down the hall, not once does he look at my face. Not that it would matter with the Halloween mask I’ve donned. He’s gone faster than Ellis was able to cut the power. I head to a second set of double doors that lead to an oversized lab. A smaller door sits against a wall of windows and, sure enough, I find a bed with a lump under the covers, dark hair cascading off the side of the mattress. I give a quick thump over the window before heading inside.
Come on, Sleeping Beauty. I’m here to take you home.
Kresley rolls over, and my stomach drops as Laken looks back at me. For a moment I forgot all about Ezrina’s dubious plastic surgery practice.
Her eyes spring wide as she struggles to sit up and, holy crap, her stomach is bulging like a beach ball. Simply put, it is huge. Gage mentioned she was pregnant, but I wasn’t expecting her to deliver in the process, and she certainly looks ripe to do so.
“Wait a minute.” She squints at me hard. “I know you!” she hisses low as if not wanting to alert the authorities.
“Yes, you do.” I scoop her into my arms and storm back into the hall without offering her an option. She’s heavy as a battleship, not that I would mention it—but it looks like I’ll be needing to tap into my Celestra strength after all.
The hall to our right is crawling with a steady stream of those oversized Spectators, roaring and grunting as if they were hungry to rip off the first head they could reach. And they will. I just need to make sure they don’t belong to Kres or me.
“Wait! What’s happening?” Her fingers dig into my flesh as she buries her face in my neck.
“Don’t you worry about it. Just do as you’re told, and if you’re very lucky, you’ll be back in Wesley’s bed tonight.” I don’t bother telling her who she’ll be sharing it with.
“Oh no.” She struggles to buck out of my arms. “Do not take me back there. You do not have my permission.” Her fists beat against my chest lightly. “You take me to Host, or better yet, to Emma’s! She’ll take care of me. Emma loves me.”
“I’m sorry, Kres. You don’t have a choice,” I whisper as we near the exit on the side of the building. “Do not say a word once we get outside.” I give a quick glance around the vicinity before dashing for the door and stop in my tracks when I spot an entire crowd of Raven’s Eye’s best and brightest milling around scratching their heads, bewildered, shaken—looking to a row of men that just stomped over, each with their own high- powered weapons as if gun power was their only hope, and they might be.
Kresley shakes me as if pulling me from a trance. “We can’t go that way.”
“We have to.” I glance back at the rows of deformed Spectators still trudging down the hall, howling horrific screams that I have never heard from them before, and the birth of an idea hits me. “Hey, boys!” I shout over to the deformed monstrosities, and a few of the stragglers turn this way, squinting, moaning—unsure if leaving the herd were a good idea. It won’t be, but that’s not my problem. “This way!” I jump into the middle of the hall and dangle Kresley at them as if she were a flesh-covered carrot.
Kres grinds her face into my neck. “I hate you!”
A couple of the Spectators turn their course and stagger on over, and I run toward them a few feet in an effort to lure the rest of them.
“Would you stop!” Kresley grips her stomach and cinches her hold on the back of my neck at the same time, so hard and fast she could have snapped my spine. “I don’t want to die. Not like this. I’ve seen what they can do, and it’s not pretty!”
“Honey, I think we’re the only two people who aren’t dying on this island today.” I give a sharp whistle, and just like that, the stampede has redirected itself and is coming this way, dangerous and slow as lava. I wait until they’re five feet away, and Kresley’s whimpers and strangulating cries let me know she’s not too keen on the idea. “All right, boys.” I lead the way out with Kres in my arms and nod over at the line of weapons drawn at us. “They’re coming!” I bellow and send the white coats scurrying like ants. “I’ll get her to the woods!” I shout at the spooked security detail. “Fire at will! Fire at will!” I can’t help but grin a little as I stride right past every armed guard that the US government has to offer, through the crowd of disoriented scientists, and straight into the arms of the evergreens welcoming me as if I were an old friend.
The sound of explosive rapid gunfire shakes the entire island, the faint sound of screaming layered just beneath.
“Fire at will?” Kres comes up from hiding, her chest rattling with a nervous laugh.
I give a little wink as I traverse us to the spot I last left Brody. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”
“You commanded those assholes like a boss!”
Before I can properly accept my accolade, I spot Brody and another pair of shoes next to his, the owner of those shoes blocked by the trunk of the evergreen, but as soon as I round that corner, I see one of my favorite people, Gage Oliver.
Brody takes Kres from me as soon as we get within feet, and Gage collapses his arms around us as the chaos, the sound of guns detonating like grenades dissipates to nothing. One dark sky is traded for another, and just like that, we’re standing in front of Wesley’s monolithic haunted house, safe and sound, for now.
Brody sets Kresley down, and soon enough her enormous girth is exposed. She’s wearing an oversized hot pink dress, government-issued no doubt. Something easy to spot if she ran.
Her face turns a matching shade as she looks my way. “I told you I didn’t want to come back here.”
“You’re welcome,” I say just as Wes and a very pregnant mirror image of the girl we just rescued greet us at the door.
“Kres.” Wes bolts for her and pulls her in, examining her blooming belly a moment before taking up her hands. “Forgive me.”
“Never!” she roars before slapping him across the face. No sooner does she get the satisfaction than she grunts hard, clutching at her belly, groaning in pain.
Laken is quick to hover over her. “Kresley, my name is Laken. I think it’s best if you come with me.” She reaches for her lookalike and helps her inside. “Wes, I think maybe you should stay away. Get Ezrina,” she shouts, and I can’t help but chuckle at the dude. Wes looks as if he just walked through a plate glass window he never saw coming.
“It looks as if everything went well.” He looks to Gage, offering a congratulatory nod.
“Because of this guy.” Gage slaps me over the back. “What happened?”
“What didn’t happen?” I glare at the two of them. “They’ve fucked with the Spectators. They’re tall as trees and just as strong.”
Brody offers up a voracious nod. “If they get off that island, there’s no stopping them.” He shoves Wes hard over the chest. “Not even an asshole like you will be exempt from their wrath.” He glares at Gage. “Get me out of here, man.”
Gage and Brody head for the cobbled road and dissipate before ever leaving the grounds.
I barrel past Wes and head into the castle. I’m assuming Ezrina will be here soon enough.
“Two kids, Wesley,” I say as I head into the great room to warm myself by the inferno lighting up the rear wall. “You must be proud, and apparently virile.”
An explosive laugh comes from our left, and I spot Coop making his way over.
“I’m betting good money that the baby in Laken’s belly is mine. And just as sure as I am about that, the baby Kres is carrying is definitely his.” He offers a shit-eating grin Wes’ way. “Lady Luck hasn’t been treating you right for some time now.”
“Very funny.” Wes isn’t laughing. “Send Ezrina to the back when she arrives.” He takes off toward the shrieking going off somewhere in the bowels of this overgrown toilet.
Coop shakes his head my way. “We need to get to Tenebrous. Do you have access?”
“Skyla does, why?”
“Because if I’m right, there’s something more to that place than meets the eye.” He glances to the flames. “Something downright hellish.”
Gage steps into the room, the reflection of the flames flickering across his face as he strides on over.
“You made it look easy.” He slaps me five. “Thanks, man.” He wraps his arms around me in a spontaneous embrace. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Yes”—I say, looking to Coop with my curiosity piqued—“take us back to Paragon.”
Rain accosts us as Gage lands Coop and me on the porch at Whitehorse before heading back to the Transfer to deal with Kresley, as he put it. We both know she’s a pistol under normal circumstances, but add an involuntary imprisonment and a baby that’s looking to make an entry into the world at any moment and you have a shitshow.
Coop and I jump into my truck and end up in the Landon driveway. Skyla scuttles down in a pair of long rubber boots, an umbrella bobbing along with her as she jumps in the back seat. Coop texted and let her know we needed to head to Tenebrous.
“I was just about to move.” Coop flicks his hand through the air as if wanting to make the switch.
“I’m fine.” She waves him off. “Trust me, it feels luxurious to have this much space all to myself. Lucky you called when you did. Tad is late coming home from work, and he would never have allowed my mother to watch the boys. He says he’s putting his proverbial foot down. Allowed.” She gags on the word. “Can you believe he has the audacity to speak to my mother that way? No wonder she’s sniffing around Edinger pastures. Ironically, Demetri would have gladly watched the boys along with her. Tad’s just trying to teach me a lesson on motherhood. He thinks I’ve got it too easy, coming and going as I like. Please.” She sits up and catches her reflection in the rearview mirror, combing down her curls with her fingers, but I’m still stuck on the fact she said Tad was late coming home from work. Crap. I hope the guy makes it. I wince into the windshield. This mess was not my fault. There will be no blood on my hands from this one. A sigh expels from me. No matter how much I say it to myself, I don’t think I’ll ever believe it.
Skyla bounces in her seat, still giddy with the excitement she burst into the truck with. I’m betting the fact she thinks she’s marrying my nephew in a few months has something to do with it.
“So, Coop, how’s Laken?” She chatters away. “Last I spoke with her she was getting cabin fever in the Transfer.”
“She’s great,” Coop says. “I was just with her.” He looks to me. “Does Skyla know?”
I shake my head and glance back at her.
“Know what?” Her tone is markedly less cheery. Skyla isn’t a fan of being left in the dark. I’m not shocked Gage didn’t mention it, though. Skyla wouldn’t have wanted me to go in. And if I persisted, she would have gone in with me. Something I would have never let happen.
“Kresley’s home”—I shrug it off as if it were no big deal—“She’s safe. Might be in labor.”
“What!” Skyla gasps. “How? Who?”
Coop turns around. “This guy right here.”
“Oh my God. Is she okay? And she’s having the baby? That must be why Ezrina said she had an emergency about an hour ago. Alice has an earache, and I was letting her know what worked with the boys. I have to admit I marveled at the fact Ezrina of all people would ask me something like that, but apparently she feels like she’s all thumbs around Alice sometimes. But Kresley’s back. Wow. Logan. I want to both kiss you and throttle you.”
A quick laugh bumps through me. I figured so.
“I think she’s fine,” Coop offers. “And with Ezrina there, she’s in good hands.”
“Perfect.” She clears her throat. “Logan? Are you hurt? What happened at Raven’s Eye? How did the switch go off with Emerson? Did my mother work a little magic and make her look like Laken, too?” Her voice is sharp. Gone is the bubbly Skyla. The leader in her is front and center.
Emerson? I glance to the sky a moment. Figures. Candace had a plan, and Emerson was a part of it. I don’t need anyone to tell me the specifics. I can take a wild guess. Candace arranges for Emerson to look like Laken, like Kresley, then dies in their care. The feds don’t go wild and lose their government-issued shit. End of story. A clean rescue is had. But that’s not the way this story ended. I wonder if Gage knew all of those facts? The thought has my blood rushing through my veins like ice.
“I’m fine. Emerson wasn’t needed. In fact, I’ll fill you in on everything some other time. The details are boring, I promise.” I’m not sure if I just lied to Skyla. Other than the gigantic mutant Spectators, it was really unremarkable. The feds were quaking in their boots like a pound puppy on D-Day.
Skyla’s mouth rounds out in horror as she does the Kragger math. “Okay. If that’s how you want to play it. But as soon as we’re done in Tenebrous, I’m heading to the Transfer. Poor Laken must be all over the place with this. That girl is still wearing her face.”
Coop turns and nods her way. “And their bodies look the same right about now, too.”
“It’s a sight to behold, that’s for sure,” I say, pulling deep into the Black Forest. We hop out, and Skyla takes up each of our hands. “Will you have enough to get us there and back?” It’s no secret Skyla’s powers have been waning significantly, and I hate that I know the reason why—hell, that I see it.
She blows a breath through her lips. “I hardly have any power left in me at all, but oddly enough, as far as heading to Tenebrous goes, I’m just as strong as ever. Go figure. I’m guessing it has to do with the fact it was gifted to me by Demetri and not my mother.”
My stomach sours at the implications. “I’m guessing you’re right.”
The ground shifts beneath our feet as the verdant evergreens are exchanged for charred skeletal versions. The scent of smoke and death mingles in the air to greet us. Tenebrous, or the Tunnels as we called it for so long, used to belong to the Fems and the Counts. It’s where Celestra was imprisoned for longer than I care to remember—where our people came to die in droves.
“Home sweet home.” Skyla gags as she waves her hand over her face trying to get a decent breath. “Can you believe this, right here, is where I met Wes?” She wrinkles her nose at Coop. “He sucked my blood like a real live vampire for the better part of what felt like eternity. God, I hated him back then.”
Coop groans as we begin to walk along the sooted path, “Don’t tell me you’re softening your stance.”
“Only because he happens to be the father of my sweet niece, Tobie. Plus, he’s Gage’s brother. That’s sort of taken the edge off him. But let’s be crystal clear. Wesley Edinger is the enemy, and he will go down right along with anyone who has ties to the Steel Barricade.”
“Including Gage?” I can’t help but throw out the challenge.
Her gaze hooks to mine. Skyla is spewing venom my way without uttering a single word. “So, Coop? Please end the mystery to that book Ezrina is decoding for us. Is there anything we can use to cut the enemy off at the knees?” She jabs her elbow into my ribs. “And yes, that includes Gage.”
My gut twists in a knot to hear her say it. I’m sorry I even asked the question. I don’t think either of us will ever warm to the idea of standing opposite Gage Oliver when it comes to the battle line.
Coop takes a few steps forward, hands on hips as he looks to the murky sky with its dappled purple clouds. “It was a map.”
“A map?” Skyla and I ask in unison.
He cuts a quick glance my way, and my gut says he’s lying or in the least not telling the entire story.
“Leading to what?” Skyla catches up to him and so do I. “A treasure?”
His forehead wrinkles deep with concern as he shakes his head. “This is no treasure, Skyla. But it will explain a hell of a lot.” Coop pulls out a piece of paper. “These are my lousy notes: The ancient stone is where one stands. A necrotic draft leads due east. A place where the river bends. The woods twisted and gnarled.” He shakes his head. “A bubbling cauldron of pain.”
Skyla clucks her tongue. “It all sounds so lovely, it’s a wonder we don’t vacation here.”
“Coop”—I step in close as the heat of this hellhole begins to strangle me—“do you think it’s important we find whatever it is at the end of this pot of mold?”
He stares at the two of us intently as if wagering something privately. “Yes, I do. Let’s see if we can knock this out. The sooner we hit the bull’s-eye, the sooner we can get out of here.”
Skyla starts on ahead. “The ancient stone must be the stone of sacrifice. I’m more than familiar. It’s where Chloe and I bonded our suckered souls a year ago. It’s just one fond memory after another down here.”
The three of us set out on this burnt highway of desperation and regret, nothing but the ever dimming light, the scent of a hard forest burn to keep us company until we hit the oversized slab of granite sitting in a desolate field.
“A haunted house would be warmer and far more welcoming than this place. There’s not a sign of life here,” I say, taking in the dismal scene.
“Evening,” a monotone voice rumbles from behind.
“I stand corrected.”
The three of us turn to find Ingram, alive and in the gray flesh. He’s always reminded me a little of a walking corpse. He’s slouched and long-faced—everything Nevermore is not. Ingram is Ezrina’s first husband.
“Ingram!” Skyla speeds over and offers a quick embrace. “Don’t mind us. Coop is leading us on a little adventure.”
“In Tenebrous?” He tips his head with curiosity. “Sounds like the losing end of a bet.”
“It is,” Coop assures.
He nods toward Coop and me. “If the two of you don’t mind, I’d like to borrow Skyla a moment. It seems I’ve a glitch with the lumen.” He holds up that glowing blue clipboard, and the two of them begin buzzing over the small mechanism.
“Come here”— I hop up on the stone and Coop follows me to the middle—“what’s this really about? I can see it on your face. You’re holding something back.”
His eyes remain over mine. The tension emanating from him sends up every red flag I own.
“Logan.” He closes his eyes a moment. “You have to trust me on this. It’s nothing we can discuss right now.” He exhales a restless breath as he looks to Skyla. “She can never know. You probably shouldn’t either.”
“All right.” Skyla hops onto the stone and jogs on over. “You ready to follow the necrotic brick road to find our demonic Oz?” Skyla holds up her hands as if in deep worship. “How in the hell are we going to figure out which way is due east?”
“There’s no breeze,” I say, trying my hardest to feel anything with my hand.
Skyla licks her finger and holds it in the air. “Wait a minute.”
Coop and I do the same thing and, sure enough, we all point to the left at the very same time. We walk for what feels like a mile before Skyla heads to a snake-like rocky crag that butts against a hillside.
“It’s the river.” She kicks a stone, and it lolls its way down a few feet, heavy as a bowling ball. “That’s two clues crossed off the list. What’s next?”
Coop straightens the paper in his hands. “The woods twisted and gnarled.”
“That’s a needle in a haystack,” I say as we follow the river down a few hundred yards until an entire fortress of knotted oaks, their backs bent and charred, stop us in our tracks. Each burnt branch leans hard toward the west as if a significant wind blew them that way and there they forever remained.
“My God”—Skyla moans—“don’t get me wrong. I’m an ardent lover of nature, but these trees, they look beyond deformed.” She points up at the outer branches. “It’s almost as if they were trying to run away from something.”
Coop shakes his head while marveling at the grotesque sight. “You’re right. And if you look hard enough, they start to take the shape of people.”
They’re both right. It’s distressing, alarming. That coupled with the fact that the temperature just went up twenty degrees leaves me feeling as if I might drop from fatigue.
“Next clue, Coop.” I wipe down my forehead with the back of my hand.
“The next and final clue reads, a bubbling cauldron of pain.”
“That’s what I’m feeling.” Skyla places her hand over her back and stretches. “We need to hurry. I don’t know how much I have left in me.”
“Let’s go.” Coop leads us through the haunted woods as a heated breeze picks up out of nowhere. The bony fingers of the oaks scratch at us as we struggle to follow the buildup of heat, the scorching nuclear breeze blowing our way. Skyla stumbles, and I catch her, slipping my arm around her waist the rest of the way as we do our best to physically support one another.
The woods thin out, the sky hangs heavy overhead, illuminated by a peach glow emanating from just beyond the ridge.
“That must be it.” Coop’s chest rises and falls as he looks over at it. There’s excitement brewing in his eyes, and as soon as I get the chance, I’m going to demand that he tells me what the hell this is really about. “Come on.” He charges ahead, and Skyla and I perk back to life as we keep pace beside him. The heat index spikes another ten degrees, and without thinking I take off my shirt.
Skyla makes a weak effort to fan herself. “You’re tempting me to do the same.”
“You don’t see me stopping you.”
Cooper huffs a laugh. “Skyla, you want me to hit him?”
“No thanks. I can take him if I wanted.” Before she can tack on another thought, or threat for that matter, we hit the tip of the hill and the three of us freeze in unison.
A clearing lies ahead, steam rising from the black crisp earth. About a mile in the distance, a cauldron that spans a football field bubbles with molten lava, flames licking from it daringly high into this dead night. The entire vicinity is lit with its pumpkin glow.
“What is this place, Cooper?” Skyla whispers breathless at the menacing sight.
“It’s the abyss, Skyla.” Coop takes a staggering step forward. “This is a portal that leads straight to hell.”
“Hell.” The word expels from me like a punch in the gut.
“Oh my God.” Skyla points to an entire herd of figures out in the distance—people, crouching in fear, on their knees, on their backs, each one of them charred to a crisp.
The sea of fire stirs up as the ground beneath us gives a violent shake. A roar comes from the bowels of that boiling cauldron as the flames rise ever higher. A spew of lava rises hundreds of feet into the sky, and the three of us stumble back a few good feet.
Another horrific thunderous howl emits, and flames rocket into the sky, lighting up this dark hellscape with the brightness of the sun, powerful and blinding. The wind shifts as the flames reconfigure and out of the chaos a form takes shape, a monster, a dragon eats up the sky with his tail whipping back and forth in quickened spasms, knocking the stars right out of the night. And as if suddenly alerted to our presence, it stops abruptly, turns our way, smoke flaring from its nostrils, that elongated snout pointed our way, eyes like fiery rubies. It rears its ugly head with furious intent, launching a fireball our way, hurtling it at us like a death warrant, a devilish promise.
Skyla reaches for Coop and me as Tenebrous fades away like the bad dream it’s panning out to be.
Tenebrous has been hiding a dark secret all along, a portal to hell itself. I don’t think any of us are all that surprised.