Forever young.

It’s funny, the thoughts that sail through your mind as you drift off to sleep. I never once believed I would die in my prime, close my eyes one last time before I ever hit my second decade of life, but I did. I was just a kid. A stupid one at that. No, it wasn’t my first go-around on this planet, but it was my best. I don’t think too much of the life I lived as a burn victim. If anything, it was a prelude to a dream, my dream life with my dream girl, Skyla.

No, I didn’t think I’d die young. Gage and all of his morbid premonitions always hinted that he would be the one to float off this spinning blue rock before he ever hit thirty. I was the one he predicted would grow to a ripe old age with Skyla. But that was back when thirty was old as dirt anyway. Yes, the second coming of Logan Oliver was a sight to behold. Got my face back. Spent some serious time in the gym building a body. Quarterback of the West Paragon Dawgs. Had all the girls spinning their heads, offering to open their legs. I used to own this island. I was hot shit. One day I held the keys to the kingdom—the next, I was in kingdom come. It was over before it ever really began. Beheaded by a girl I once thought I might gift my heart to. Yes, I’ll be the last to admit that I had the hots for Chloe Bishop. So much so that I mistakenly, for a very brief moment, thought it might be the real thing. Chloe. Fucking Chloe. For certain, she qualifies as my brief stint of insanity.

I drift off to that strange space between consciousness and sleep—the exact juncture I need to hop off the train and head for someone else’s dreamscape. For the last few weeks, I’ve been visiting Casey in her dreams. Dream visitations is a gift I’ve honed over the years. It doesn’t drain me the next day quite like it used to, but I still feel like a sack of shit that’s been set on fire and stomped on. I don’t mind, though. Casey is sweet. An older version of what I envision Angel growing up to be like. And because I feel so brotherly, so fatherly toward her, it burdens me to know exactly where she is—a glass box, locked up somewhere in the heart of Raven’s Eye.

The room forms around me, solid and real, and yet it’s simply Casey’s ability to recreate her world for me while she’s locked in her slumber.

“Finally, slow poke!” She swats me with her pillow. I’ve had Casey memorize her quarters and utilize it as the backdrop to our nighttime tête-à-tête. Mostly because I need to see this place, know the ins and outs of what she’s familiar with, what I’m up against should things go south for anyone involved. Yes, the dead signed up for what amounts to a death sentence, but after getting to know them, spending time with them while at Gage and Skyla’s place, I don’t have the heart to abandon them. I guess this is my meager form of monitoring the situation. So far, Casey says they’ve done nothing more invasive than have them stare at what amounts to Rorschach blotches. Asked them to perform rudimentary telepathic tasks, checking their strength, their speed, raining down the inquisition as far as who they are—what planet they’re from.

“I’m late because Angel put up a fight.”

Her fresh scrubbed face lights up at the mention of my baby girl. “Skyla let her spend the night?”

“No, I didn’t ask. I simply put her to bed, but she didn’t want me to leave.” When Skyla and Gage moved back to the Landon house, we agreed Angel should go with them. It’s just at night when we’re separated. You can hardly say that I’ve been living the life of a part-time father ever since. Gage says I’m welcome anytime, and I’ve spent so much time at the Landon house as of late, it’s starting to feel like our high school days. “Skyla is a great mother. I always knew she would be.”

Casey pulls out a deck of cards—Old Maid, her favorite, and begins to shuffle. “You always say such nice things about her. You really like Skyla, don’t you?” Her lips twitch as if she’s been onto me the entire time.

“What’s not to like? She’s my sister-in-law in a way. She was my wife once. My girlfriend briefly before that. Gage has made a habit of snatching her out of my arms ever since she arrived on the island. It’s a game we like to play. Only now I guess it’s game over for me.” I take up the cards she deals my way. “I’m okay with it, though. Gage and Skyla are pretty great together.”

“I’ll agree with that.” Her blonde brows hitch up a notch. Casey is the quintessential little sister next door—all of the innocence and unstoppable youth embodied in a pre-teen. “Gage seems pretty nice. I don’t really know him as well as I know you. Those little boys they have are just a dream. Do you think Gage is a nice guy?”

My stomach clenches, and I’m not sure why. “Yup. He’s the best. He’s got his hands full, though—work, school, family, and he’s pulling it all off with grace and ease. He should be awarded father of the year.”

“You’re a father now. Don’t you think you deserve that award?” She places down two sets of matching cards and laughs in my face.

“I am a father now. It’s all very new, but I’m in love. I’m so deep in, my bones ache with sweetness when I think about my girl. She really is an angel.”

She lays down another matching set, and I fold. “You must cheat. Nobody wins that much.”

“I never cheat. I just know how to play the game very, very well.” She wrinkles her nose. “Do you think you’ll call her that—Angel, when the time comes?”

My entire body heats at the thought of procreating with Skyla, our bodies moving in a unified rhythm, her heavy breathing searing over my chest.

I clear my throat. “Skyla and I can’t have children, not now, not ever. I happen to be Team Gage.” I glance up at the proverbial ceiling in the event Candace is listening.

“You will, though.” She reshuffles the deck and hands out the cards. “I mean, Angel is sort of living proof.”

I stare at her an inordinate amount of time, wagering whether or not to pursue the conversation. It would take a millennium for me to explain to both her and myself why I can’t have a future with Skyla no matter what heartbreaking teasers Candace throws our way.

“Logan”—she picks through her deck, rearranging her cards one at a time—“tell me about your love for Skyla. I’m sort of a romance junkie. I’ve spent years in paradise listening to true loves’ finest tales. I was sort of cut off before I ever got to experience it myself. Not that I’m lamenting the fact. I died thinking boys were more than icky.” She makes a face like she might vomit. “But the idea has grown on me, and I like the stories. I can listen to them over and over the way others listen to songs.”

“My love story with Skyla.” I let out a full sigh. “That’s easy. I fell in love the moment I laid eyes on her—so did Gage by the way.” Technically, that’s not true. He fell in love with her in his dreams first. I guess you could say he had the advantage. We dated—Skyla and me.” A tiny laugh bumps through my chest. “I never dated Gage.”

“Ha-ha.” She rolls her eyes. “Move it along.”

“That’s it. Skyla had the Counts and the Fems trying to incapacitate her, and I knew they would stop at nothing to make sure we never got together. Our child—she would be—she is, I suppose, as close to pure as possible.”

“Pure.” She sighs dreamily. “Angel is a lucky little girl. I’m sure the Decision Council has already carefully plotted out the very best destiny for her.”

I think of Skyla and all her hardships. Of myself. Of Gage.

“I’m not sure it would be the best. Anyhow, I had a lousy brainstorm one day and thought that perhaps Skyla should pretend to date Gage to throw off the Counts. I thought at least that way we could still be together once we were alone.”

“No!” She tosses down her cards in horror. “You drove her right into his arms, didn’t you?”

“Something like that.” A pang of embarrassment rips through me. Even innocent Casey can see it was a ridiculous idea. “Skyla and I never really got back on track. And then I died. Candace allowed me to live in a mini Treble, much like the one I’m in. I managed to snatch Skyla back for a bit.” I give a sly wink.

Casey claps up a storm. “A happy ending of sorts. But wait—you were dead! That’s terrible.”

“It wasn’t so bad. Skyla and I married and had a brief yet beautiful honeymoon. And just before I was called back to paradise, I charged Gage with taking care of and loving Skyla the way that I would have. And he’s done so ever since.” I land my cards on top of hers, declaring our paper war over.

“And what about Gage?” She scoops the cards up with her fingers, slow to look at me. “Has he charged you with the same?”

“Yes. Last year. But I won’t take him up on it. I’m fighting for their family to stay whole until they’re both old and ragged and the boys are old and ragged, too.” I’d wink, but I’m not being cheeky. This is my greatest wish. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret”—I lean in, and she does the same—“I’m still very much in love with Skyla.”

Casey leans back, her gaze still set over mine with a look on her face that says she’s about to trump me, only we’re not playing cards anymore. “I’ve got a little secret myself.” A spurt of giggles escapes her. “I know you, Logan. I know you from paradise—the version that has run the race and completed his mission in life.” Her affect sharpens, and suddenly she seems far older than the innocent girl I’ve pegged her to be. “I’ll give you a little hint of your future with Skyla, but then I’m sending you back to Paragon. I’m getting tired.”

I open my mouth to protest, but my vocal cords don’t dare give a sound.

“Angel happens, Logan. You don’t get to keep her, but she comes back to you just the way she’s supposed to.” Her features contort in pain, and she looks as if she’s about to wail with tears. “Maybe.” She gives me a solid shove off the side of the bed, and I keep falling—all the way to Paragon.

Skyla and I happen.

Maybe.

I don’t like the sound of it.

Skyla and I are over.

We’ve already happened.

* * *

On Tuesday, I offer to take Angel for the night to give poor Skyla a break. I don’t dare visit Casey that night. In fact, I don’t dare dream, sleep, or wink a second too long. Instead, I watch my baby girl sleep, watch as her chest rises and falls, memorize the steady pattern of her breathing. But eventually, I succumb to what amounts to a short nap. In the morning, try as I might to beat Angel to the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed punch, I find her laughing and bouncing in one of the cribs I’ve set up in my bedroom. The original two were for the boys, but I went out and bought another so the collection grew to three once Angel arrived. They remind me of those old-fashioned circus cages you would see animals displayed in. But the only little animal around here is Angel, a jovial laughing baby koala that wants nothing more than to snuggle up with her dad—me.

I make breakfast, feed her the organic fare Skyla left me with last night, and give her a bottle, which she quickly catches on how to use, and we find a comfy spot on the couch and lose the rest of the morning watching cartoons.

This is the life. While Angel studies the screen, I study her. I’m mesmerized by her blonde curls that look as if they’re made of spun gold. I study how intently she focuses in on the television, laughing and clapping intermittently as the show commands it. Her eyes are a unique pale shade of turquoise with amber flecks—Skyla’s eyes married with mine. I see Skyla there in her face, in the way she lights up with her whole body when something makes her giddy with excitement. I hold out my hand, and she slaps me five over and over again while kicking the shit out of me with those precious chunky legs.

“You’re a real princess, you know that?” I press a kiss to her cheek. “Just like your mom.”

A knock comes from the door, and her whole body stretches in that direction. “Ma Ma!”

“Let’s see.” I scoop her up and fly her like an airplane to the door. Only when we swing it open, it’s not Skyla we see. It’s Lex.

“Hey, good-looking.” Lex gives my cheek a pinch as she makes her way past me. “You and the kid ready for your close-up?”

“Ready and willing.” I’m not entirely thrilled with the way Lex didn’t even bother to say hello to Angel. I get it. She’s a baby, but she’s a person, my person. You’d think if Lex really wanted to cement herself in my life she’d at least make half the effort. Not that I’m looking for Lex to do any cementing. I’m just saying her strategy is off.

“Okay.” Lex looks around with her fists planted on her hips. “Here.” She whips a white furry blanket off the couch—the exact white furry blanket she purchased when I gave her a blank check and told her to decorate the place—and lands it on the floor. “Take off your shirt and take off all of her clothes, too. We’ll do a few nudes of her on your chest before Skyla gets here.”

“What? There’s no way I’m doing nudes with my daughter.”

“Are you kidding?” She snorts while evicting her camera from its leather case. “It’s all the rage. I promise it’ll be cute.”

The doorbell rings just as my stomach acids hit a boiling point. Lex generally knows her stuff, and generally I trust her, but I’m pretty sure I’m drawing the line at nudes.

Skyla bustles in with a bouncing baby boy in each arm, a bloated diaper bag dangling from her shoulder, and I put Angel down to help her.

“Look at you go!” Skyla marvels, and I follow her gaze to find Angel halfway into the kitchen.

“Geez.” I help Skyla put the boys on the floor before chasing Angel down. “She’s fast. I’ll give her that.”

“Just like her mom,” Lex snarks and the tension in the room goes up a notch.

“Good morning to you, too,” Skyla growls at her questionable friend. “I already have the boys in their outfits. It’ll just take me a second to dress the baby.” She bites down on a smile as she takes Angel from me. “Who’s a pretty little girl?” Skyla peppers Angel’s face with kisses, and she kicks and screams with delight.

“That reminds me. I want to show you something.” I pull a small faded Polaroid from off the mantel. “It’s me about Angel’s age.” Before the fire. But I don’t like to talk about that.

“Oh my goodness!” Skyla’s voice pitches to its upper register. “You are the cutest little thing! And look at that face! Angel is basically you in a dress.”

“I always knew I’d look good in pink.”

Skyla gives my ribs a quick pinch, and I buck.

“You know”—she pulls the picture closer and recluses into herself a moment—“my mother didn’t change our destinies at this juncture. She waited until you were older. She could have done it when you were a baby, but she didn’t. Do you think there was something she was trying to salvage in that alternate reality?”

“I don’t know. God knows I’ve thought about it. But I do know one thing that’s come from it. I appreciate life and living it to its full potential.” I can’t put into words the heartache, the anguish I remember, and, in turn, that makes me rabid to know others experience that level of heartbreak and loneliness. I guess that’s why I’m looking out for those taken to Raven’s Eye. It’s going to be hell for them, and I don’t want it to be.

“Speaking of clothes”—Lex pipes up—“how about dropping trou, would you?” She licks her lips my way as if the invite was directed only at me, and I have no doubt it was.

“Lex wanted to photograph us in the nude.” I wink over at Lex as she unloads her equipment onto the counter.

“Correction”—Skyla scoffs at the thought—“Lex wanted to photograph you in the nude. I’m pretty sure she’d like the rest of us dressed—or better yet, off the premises.”

“No, I’m serious.” Lex doesn’t bother looking up while switching out her lenses. “Nude really is all the rage. I’ve already done six family pictorials this last week, all in the buff.”

“Six, huh?” Skyla makes a face while pulling a frilly pink dress over the top of Angel’s head, and the baby laughs and screams as if it was the funniest thing in the world. Barron rolls over and begins to gnaw on her chunky little leg, and it only makes Angel that much more hysterical. “So, how do these nudes work?”

“That’s the hard part.” Lex comes over and begins shooting a few shots off as she adjusts her lens. “I usually place the kids over the parents’ privates. But I’ve done it all kinds of ways. The last one had dad on the bottom and mom on his back with each of their four kiddos piled on top of her.”

“Sounds a little too organic.” I shake my head at Skyla in the event Lex is able to loosen a screw. It’s a hell no to that one. “I think we’ll stick to clothes.” I tug at the white dress shirt and jeans I donned just for the occasion, and Skyla gives an approving thumbs-up.

“But I think we should lose the shoes and socks.” Skyla plucks the boys’ socks off so fast you’d think their feet were on fire.

“What? I like my shoes.” I point a sneaker her way, and she frowns at it as if I’ve stepped in dog shit.

“Shoes and socks off, Oliver.” Something about the way she just barked out that command sounds erotic, and unfortunately for me has my dick begging to take my boxers off, too. Fat chance, buddy. Hold off on the party.

“How’s Casey?” Skyla leans in and lays her shoulder over my chest as Lexy barks out instructions.

“I didn’t see her last night, but she’s been good. Spirits are high. She’s lonely, but I let her kick my butt in Old Maid at least once a night so that makes up for it a bit.”

“Did she say anything that sounds off?”

“No.” Both Skyla and I are paranoid they’re going to torment those poor people to death, and I suppose that is the point. “But as soon as anything changes, you’ll be hearing from me.”

Her forehead creases with worry. “I don’t have a plan, Logan. I don’t have a clue as to what we’ll do to help.” Angel slaps her over the nose, and she blinks back. “I got it. We’ll storm the island. We can get the Retribution League and head over if things go sideways.”

“And then what? Ellis offers them a fat blunt, and we all sit in a stoner circle while the dead trot back to paradise?”

She knocks her elbow into me. “You don’t have to be so glib about it. I don’t know what happens after that. Maybe you get naked and Lex can chase you around while documenting the event with her camera.”

“That has my vote.” Lex gives an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

“I bet it does,” Skyla growls just under her breath. “Whatever it is, Holden is my first line of defense. He’s already chomping at the bit to get his brother back.” She winces. Pierce was taken last week, no thanks to Chloe. She was gunning to have Emerson incarcerated as well, but that almost backfired on her, and Chloe had to make a getaway herself. “I knew this would be tough for the family that had loved ones in the effort. Thankfully, there’s only a small handful. Not to mention Kate. Her mother has practically chained her in the basement. She’s terrified that outsiders will report her and terrified my mother will call her home on the spot. She’s been sending out group texts to Nat and me letting us know she’s bored out of her mind.” She glares at Lexy a moment.

About two weeks ago, Lex took Kate to the mall, and they accidentally bumped into Kate’s mother. Apparently, it almost sent her into kingdom come, too. Suffice it to say, Kate had a lot of explaining to do. Lex thought she’d help out in that department since Kate is still reduced to whispers, and evidently Lex didn’t hold back on the details. Mrs. Winston, a human through and through, is now up on all things Faction and angelic. A frightening detail when you think about it. But she swore she’d keep everything to herself. She was so relieved to have her daughter back—albeit temporarily—that woman could be trusted with nuclear codes at this point.

I smooth my hand over Skyla’s back. “Does a part of you regret bringing Kate back?”

“No. She’s glad she’s here. I’m glad she’s here, and Nat is super happy to have her back, if only for a while.”

“I’m in that number, Messenger,” Lex calls from behind the camera as she snaps away.

Skyla gives my shoe a light tap with her foot. “I said take it off, Oliver.”

A sly grin crawls up one side of my face because it sounded dirty, and my balls drink down the naughty implications even if there weren’t any.

I do as I’m told, and Lex moves the five of us out onto the front lawn. Skyla sits next to me in the damp grass with Angel on her lap while I hold the boys, and my stomach starts to boil with a slight undercurrent of panic. Actually, when I mentioned to Skyla that Lex wanted to take a family picture of us with the baby I hadn’t really thought about including the boys—but, of course, we’re including the boys because they’re family—they’re Skyla’s children, and mine by proxy. But I’ve got a nagging feeling this is a very bad idea, and just as I’m about to hem and haw my way through a list of reasons that perhaps we should reconsider, a big black truck pulls into the driveway and Gage hops out.

Perfect. And here’s reason number one through one hundred as to why this whole family pictorial just went to hell in a Lexy-shaped handbasket.

Gage loses his grin in slow motion as he takes in the scene. “What’s going on?”

Skyla closes her eyes a moment because I’m betting she’s just surmised this was perhaps a very shitty idea to begin with.

I’m not Skyla’s husband. And it was never my intent to kick Gage to the curb—behind his back, no less. All I wanted was a picture of Angel, and this morphed into something it was never intended to be. Thank God Almighty we opted out of nudes.

“We’re in the middle of family pictures, Gage,” Lex grouses. “Get out of the way. You’re in the shot!”

Shit. I close my eyes and try to will us out of this uncomfortable situation.

“Logan, look this way!” Lex sings. “Everybody say happy little family!”

“Wow.” Gage gargles out a dark laugh as he sits on the porch. “Glad I didn’t miss the show.” His dimples dig in deep, and I can tell he’s eating up our discomfort, but the dude has got to be hurt.

“Okay”—Lex flicks her finger at us—“go ahead and get naked, and we’ll stick a boy between each of your legs. Skyla, you’ve got small tits. Just pull your hair over your shoulders and set the girls up high. We’ll start there before we get to the dogpile.”

“Oh no, we won’t.” Skyla hops up with Angel, and I do the same with Barron. “Gage Oliver, I am sorry.” She rolls her eyes. “I swear I thought this was just for the kids,” she pleads with all of the sorrow she can muster. “And, of course, Logan and Angel.” She bites down so hard on her bottom lip it grows bone white.

“I know.” He gives her a quick peck on the lips. “I wanted to come with you, but I had to stop off at the morgue.”

“Come on, Skyla.” Lex tries to lure her back to the lawn with a tip of the chin. “Just you and the kids.”

“Sounds good.” I land Barron next to Nathan and head back over to Gage, where I plan to grovel for his forgiveness for the rest of my disputable life.

Skyla happily piles the kids on her lap while Angel takes each of the boys by the hair and gives a good yank initiating a riot within five seconds flat.

“That’s the money shot! Can they cry any louder?” Lex howls with a laugh while Skyla does her best to get the unrest to stop. “If murder was legal, we’d all be smothered to death as infants!”

Gage ticks his brows up my way and bucks with a quiet laugh. “Lexy Bakova is going to make a fantastic mother.”

“I agree.” I glance her way as she snaps at the kids to pull it together. “Sorry about the circus, dude.” I shrug over at him as he lands those riotously blue eyes my way with a brief moment of judgment. “It sort of got out of hand.”

“Don’t be. Skyla let me in on it this morning. I think it’s a good thing. They grow fast. You want to remember it all.” There’s a palpable sadness veiled in his features, a tangible despondency as if someone just died.

“Hey, everything okay?” I give his shoulder a quick pat as if to perk him up. I’ve been around Gage long enough to read him like a book, and no matter what he says, I know it’s anything but okay.

“I’m great.” He frowns at the construction site across the street as the crew drags in concrete mixers and steel beams to start on the new and improved bowling alley. They’ve already laid the foundation, and now all I have to do is sit back and watch that monster put itself back together again. “I only stayed at the morgue a minute.” His jawline redefines itself as he continues to glare across the street. “I had to meet with Wes. He wants to know how I plan on getting the Spectators back to their near human state since not even Ezrina could promise them that.”

It feels like a punch in the gut just listening to him. I’ve always wondered how quickly he would end up over his head, and now I know.

“We’ll talk to Ezrina. She’s downstairs.”

He nods as if acknowledging this. “I told Wes he needs to haul them back to Tenebrous. Skyla will have to let them in. He’s going to put a call out this afternoon to round them up.”

“And he’s listening to you?” I’m amazed that Wesley would take one of his prized arsenals and remove them from the playing field.

“He is—he has to.”

Lex gives a shrill whistle to get our attention. “Would you both get over there? Kids have a short attention span, if you haven’t noticed.”

Skyla waves the two of us over as she struggles to keep three little ones from crawling to the four corners of the earth.

Gage and I head over to the lawn, and Skyla swats Gage until he complies with the no shoe, no sock rule. Soon we’re posing for the camera as one big family, and it feels right. Skyla and Gage sit next to one another with a boy on each lap, and I lie on my side in front of them with Angel—just the six of us, perhaps the way it should be. In the end, we feel like one big happy family.

Ellis’ monster truck roars up the street and pulls into the mouth of the driveway before both he and Giselle hop out.

“Good-looking crew!” Ellis struts over and does his best to high-five the kids, and shockingly it looks as if he’s got them all trained. He gives me a swift kick in the ass with his boot. “Here’s the man of the hour. G and I just ran by the city with the architect and made some last-minute changes. Just a few little things. Nothing to panic over.”

Crap. If Ellis Harrison suggests it’s nothing to panic over, it is very much something to panic over.

Gage and I get up and follow him to the porch while Giselle helps Skyla scoop up the kids.

“Too late, I’m panicked. What’s happening?” My heart bucks its way into my throat because I’m fearing I’ll find a hookah lounge that specializes in pot planted smack in the middle of my thoroughly modern state-of-the-art bowl-a-drome.

Ellis grimaces over at Giselle a moment as she helps Skyla into the house with the kids. “You know, I like to keep the little woman happy.”

Gage groans. “That’s demeaning, and sexist, and would you stop treating my sister like some toy you picked up at the store?” He gives Ellis a slight shove and sends him staggering backward.

“Dude, she’s the love of my life. I’d die if that’s what made her happy.”

Gage and I exchange a wry smile. Sometimes Ellis just being Ellis can be a bit frightening to witness.

“Anyway, like I said, there were a few minor changes she wanted to see made to the plans, and both the city and the architect agreed it was no big deal. Plus, the contractor says this new design change will put us ahead of schedule a full month—so get ready to christen this baby by December.”

“Let’s hear it. I’m sure it’s a great idea.” Words I never thought I’d say to Ellis. “Are we erecting a replica of the Eifel Tower on the rooftop? Mirrored walls? A giant G rotating over the signage? Give it to me quick, Ellis.” Again, words I never thought would leave my lips.

Ellis expands his chest with his next breath as he glances over my shoulder. “She nixed the sleek contemporary design and—let’s just say she went for a more homey feel.”

“Shit. How homey?”

Gage bucks with a dull laugh. “Dude, you did this without consulting Logan? I don’t care how homey it is. You’ve lost your fucking mind.”

Ellis nods in agreement. “That I have, my friend. And let it be a testimony to how much I love your sister. So don’t ride my ass anymore. Every time you drive by the Bowling Barn, I want you to see it as a testament to my affection toward her.”

“Oh shit.” My stomach bottoms out. Worst nightmare confirmed. Working with Ellis was the mistake of the century. “The Bowling Barn? Ellis, exactly what kind of changes did you make to the aesthetics?”

“Just a few nips and tucks.” He shrugs it off as if it were nothing, and just as he opens his mouth to continue, Giselle hops down the porch and strangles him with a hug. I’m tempted to cheer her on in the taking Ellis’ breath away department.

“Isn’t it great?” Giselle beams as Skyla pops up behind her.

“The kids are in their Pack ’n Plays.” Skyla wraps her arms around Gage and notes the conversation is stilted. “Isn’t what great?”

Giselle does an odd little bunny hop. “The fact the bowling alley is going to be in the shape of a big giant red barn!”

Gage and Skyla groan at the same time. I’d join them, but I’m too busy trying not to pass out.

“Ellis?” My voice hitches. “What happened to the bowling alley and gym we spent weeks together designing? Or were you too wasted to remember?” I’m not holding back because I just so happen to be fucking pissed.

“I remember.” He holds his hands out in surrender. “I just thought Giselle had a pretty great idea.”

“Oh, it is a great idea,” she’s quick to assure. “We’re going to have ten times more arcade games and prizes. We’ll have lots and lots of prizes—those big giant stuffed animals with the button eyes the size of paper plates—they sort of give me nightmares—but we’ll have those and anything else you can imagine!”

“I’m sort of having a nightmare, too.” I glare across the street where the bowling alley once stood and silently kiss my sleek bowl-a-drome goodbye. This is what I get for leaning hard on Ellis, financially speaking. I knew I was putting him in the driver’s seat, but I could have never foreseen this barnyard fiasco, and it’s my own stupid fault. Note to self: whenever Ellis is involved—expect a barnyard fiasco each and every time.

Shit. Just shit.

The babies start to whine, and Giselle volunteers to head on in. “I just love babies, Skyla. Keep making them! Make some with Ellis, too!”

Gage pats me over the back. “Hang in there, man.” He glares at Ellis a moment. “And you stay away from my woman.” He takes off inside the house right behind his sister.

Ellis scampers off across the street to the construction site before I can effectively kick his horny little stoner ass. Of course, he’ll do anything for G because she’s giving him exactly what he wants. Damn pervert.

“Host University is getting a gem.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. Giselle really is a bright girl when she applies herself. She’s just a kid. And what kid wouldn’t want an oversized cherry red barn smack in the middle of town?

“Be nice,” Skyla scolds while wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “That’s your niece, and she means well.” She steps in front of me, interrupting the funnel of hatred I’m shooting toward Ellis. “And you are nice.” She gives my cheek a light pinch. “And good things happen to nice people. Besides, I think the Bowling Barn sounds adorable. Maybe it’s better than Bar Slash Bowling?”

“She’s not taking my liquor license.”

“Okay.” Skyla laughs while lifting her hands and cupping my cheeks. “Have it your way. Booze, bowling, and button-eyed demons.”

“Be careful what you say.” I tick my head back toward the house. “Someone is likely to hear that and turn it into the new tagline for the place.”

We share a quiet laugh.

“How’s the pumpkin patch going?” She gives my scruff a light scratch, and it feels like heaven.

“Decent. Liam and I hired a crew to clear the land, and I’m having my contractor toss a chain-link fence around it. The vines are already spreading, and there’s hope for a decent crop come October. First year everything is free. One pumpkin per family. Sound fair?”

“Aww!” She wraps her arms around me and lays her head on my chest a moment. “You are a saint, Logan Oliver.” She pulls back, her eyes pinned to mine. “And an amazing father and uncle.” Her gaze dips to the ground a moment. “And a good friend.” She nods up at me as if she wanted me to really hear those words, to memorize them. “And even better family.” Her arms tighten around my waist again.

And that’s what we are. Skyla and I are family.

There is no greater bond.

My gut wrenches as if calling me out on the lie.

There might be one greater bond than that—I glance down at her wedding ring—and it just so happens that bond isn’t with me.

* * *

Summer comes to a close like the soft roll of a wave crashing the shore, nothing too dramatic. My birthday went off with a whisper with Gage and Skyla driving down to Pike’s Reef with me, surprising me with a cake. I didn’t want the big birthday bash I’ve traditionally had. For the first time in years, I wanted to be home that night, holding my baby girl tight in my arms. I already had the best gift life could give me.

I’m still monitoring Casey. Things seem stable on that front, but it’s been weeks. How long can and will the government house throngs of alien beings who have made no secret of their powers? Are they satisfied with the nice round number we’ve fed them? What in the hell happens next? And then there’s Wesley. His Spectators have been slowly herded to Tenebrous just as Gage requested. But that hasn’t stopped the Barricade from sending out their mercenaries. It’s official now. There have been more UFO sightings, more paranormal activity logged in the past year than in the course of modern history. He’s amping up the big guns. I can feel it. Wes has sent in the clowns quite literally. The horror of these ghastly creatures has the entire world in an uproar. So much so that the longtime children’s birthday party staple has been banned in eleven states. But Wes is just getting started. I can feel it in my dead creaky bones. Whatever the hell he has planned next is going to be dramatic, jaw-dropping on a grand scale. Lives will be dismantled, the bounds of human sanity challenged. Something earth-shattering this way comes. I just wish I could put my finger on it. Soon. I predict soon we will know the answer to this.

On an unassuming Saturday, I leave Whitehorse in the late afternoon for Dudley’s house. Skyla and Chloe are throwing Ezrina a baby shower and insist that people of all genders join in on the fun. Yes, Chloe. Skyla’s number two hasn’t left her side. She’s the obedient Golden Retriever Skyla never knew she wanted. Gage and I are still unified on the fact we don’t want her around. Nobody in their right mind should want Chloe Bishop in their presence. I jump into my truck, and just as I’m about to head west toward the Estates, I spot a familiar looking dude seated on the framing of what is turning out to be a barn of barbaric proportions.

“Shit.” I make a U-turn and speed into the lot across the street. That blond hair, those cut features, body that doesn’t quit. Yes, that handsome devil would be me—another version, suffice it to say.

I park below the entry where he—I—sit and the truck gives a quick quiver as he lands feet first into the bed in the back.

“Whoa.” I hop out and glare up at this paradise-bound version of myself. “You dent the bed, you’ll have to pay for it.”

There I am, glaring right back at myself. “Get the hell in here.” He points hard to the tire well next to him, and I hop in, taking a seat across from him—me.

“Nothing like a mindfuck to get the weekend off to a great start.”

He winces. “I’d say language, but you already know that.” He offers a peaceable smile, and I’m remotely amused that this version of myself is fighting hard to be nice to me of all people. “You didn’t take care of Dominique Winters.”

My head jerks west in the direction of that twisted mansion the Winters live in. “Melody has been gone for over a month. I’ve checked with Barron, and he says they secured council. The U.S. Government versus the Winters. I don’t see myself as a part of the equation.”

“You should have,” he says without missing a beat. “Skyla and Gage”—he presses his palm into his eye and growls as if whatever came next pained him—“tell them both you love them. Your entire detail on this planet is to be an ever-present help in times of trouble. Do not run from it.” He leans in, determined. Those amber eyes light up like beacons. “Run to it. Do you hear me? You run into the fire.” His eyes close briefly. “And spend some quality time with Gage. Talk to him.” He says that last part as if it were an afterthought. The fog fills in thick between us, and slowly his body wears thin until he’s altogether threadbare and gone.

“That’s it?” I shout up to the sky. “That was fucking lousy.”

I jump back into the truck and take off for Dudley’s. All the way there I wonder what in the hell I was trying to tell myself.

Run into the fire. Talk to Gage. That’s all that registered. I hope that was enough.

* * *

Dudley’s not-so humble abode is festooned with enough pink and blue streamers to cover the circumference of the planet two or three times at least.

Brielle greets me at the door and blows a paper party horn in my face while that demonic player piano Dudley has stashed in the corner goes off a million ghostly miles an hour. I don’t need to be next to it to know there’s no one in the driver’s seat—at least not anyone you can see.

“It’s time to get your party on, Oliver!” Bree bumps her hip to mine nearly knocking me to the ground. “It’s an open bar! Let me see your ID, son.” She gives a wild cackle.

“Logan!” Chloe heads over and crashes her arms around my neck as if she’s about to plant one on me, and then without missing an erotic beat, she does just that.

“Whoa.” I pull back and frown at the witch. “Where’s the woman of the hour?” I try to detangle myself from her, but Chloe is like a human Chinese yoyo. The harder you try to evict her, the tighter she clings.

“Outside with Em. It seems the spirit has moved our sweet Emily, and she’s gifting those yummy prophetic treats to whoever would like one.” Chloe’s dark eyes gleam with wicked delight. “I bet she has a delicious one just for you.” Her hand glides down my back and swivels around to my crotch.

“Nice try.” I snatch her by the wrist. “I get it. You haven’t been laid in months. Join the cold shower club.”

Chloe relaxes her snake-like arm around me once again, resting her full weight over me. Chloe Bishop has always been a sort of inescapable hell. “I don’t see any good reason why either of us has to suffer this sorry fate.” She swings in close, her face just a breath away from mine. Her lids hood low as she sinks in closer. “And I think we can both agree the one-armed bandit doesn’t do this boiling lust inside the two of us any justice.”

“You know, Chloe, for once you’re right. But the answer is still a hard no.” I press past her to find a happy smattering of bodies littering the living room. Mostly people from West, and this alarms me on some level. Years after graduation and every gathering still feels like a high school reunion. But then, this is Paragon. I suppose this is the same crowd that will be gathering en mass for the next eight decades, God willing.

“But you’ve fucked me more than you’ve slept with anyone else on this planet.” Chloe walks backward in front of me, and I’m just counting down the seconds before she eats it.

“That’s true. I guess I’ve never thought of it that way. But I’m more of a quality over quantity kind of guy.”

Skyla and Gage come up, each holding a baby, Skyla with Barron—and I’m certain of this because, being the good uncle I am, I can unequivocally, and finally, tell them apart. Mostly because Barron loves to brood, and Nathan loves to flirt with Angel. And, of course, Angel is with Gage.

“Daddy!” She practically leaps into my arms.

“Did you hear that?” I shout as a burst of adrenaline burns though me. “Baby girl.” I bury a kiss under her chin, and she screams with laughter. Her blonde curls tickle my cheeks, and I can’t help but nuzzle against her.

“Angel!” Skyla looks to her with glittering eyes. “You did it! You said Daddy!”

Barron looks to me and laughs. “Daddy!”

“Wow,” I say, laughing under my breath as Barron reaches out for me to hold him. “Looks like I’m two for two.”

Skyla dances back apprehensively, her eyes flitting nervously to her husband’s. “That’s the first time he’s said that.”

“Here.” Gage picks up Barron and places him in my other arm before shedding his signature dimples, but that smile is nothing but a mask of pain. I’ve been around him long enough to know.

“Skyla!” Brielle calls from the back. “You’re up next!”

“I’d better go.” Skyla wrinkles her nose before scooting to the rear yard.

The smile dissipates from my nephew’s face as soon as Skyla hits the exit.

“Sorry about that,” I offer. Gage steps in front of me, blocking my path, eating up the doorway with the wide girth of his shoulders.

“Don’t be.” Gage closes those big blue eyes, and I’d swear on all that is holy the world just dimmed. “Logan,” he whispers my name as if he were in pain. “I love you. I need you to be here for my boys. If something should happen to me. If I turn into that monster.”

“You won’t. Skyla is handling the feds beautifully. You’ve got Wes on a leash. The Videns should be thrilled you’ve got their boys off the streets.”

His jaw hardens. “There’s this shadow.” His gaze drifts off to some unknowable place as his voice reduces to a whisper. “I see it wherever I go.”

My gut clenches tight. “Talk to your dad about it.”

“My dad?” He startles as if I’ve woken him from a dream.

“Not Barron.” My heart breaks for him. “The other one.” I can’t say his name. Don’t want to. Both Barron and Angel laugh and tug at one another’s hair at the mention of his name.

Barron begs to have his father hold him, and I’m quick to comply. “Come on.” I bump Gage as I lead him outside. “Let’s see what Emily Morgan has to say about this insanity we call life.”

Ezrina and Nev cross paths with us just as we’re about to make our way to the crowd in the corner of the yard.

“My prophecy.” She holds up a sheet of paper that looks like something that amounts to a child’s school project. Nobody ever said Em was cranking out Picassos.

“What is it?” Gage takes it from her as we examine it.

Nev leans in. “Don’t you see the blade?” He dots the point with his finger.

“Ah. A very sharp knife is in your future,” I muse. Ezrina and Nev have a vast collection of antique cutlery. I’m sure the baby will love it.

“This is Alice.” She frowns my way as if I should know better.

Nev leans in. “It was her favorite knife, back in the day. It’s quite a prophecy.” He pats her belly as they make their way past us.

“Sounds like Ezrina and Nev are going to have one sharp baby,” I say as we head outside. “I don’t know if we should be worried or thrilled.”

“Both.” Gage chuckles as we head deep into a tangle of bodies.

We find Emily seated at a round table with Skyla by her side and Bree and Chloe loosely hanging on like bookends while conducting a spirited conversation of their own.

“I can’t get used to this,” Gage whispers as we pass them. “She doesn’t belong here. She’s dangerous.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Have you and”—I nod to Skyla—“ever had that talk?”

“No.” His brows furrow as if he’s just realized this.

“That’s it?” Skyla holds up a piece of paper covered in crimson, and Gage and I head over.

“That’s it, Messenger.” Em doesn’t bother with a smile. Emily Morgan always looks as if she’s just woke up from a decade long dirt nap. “Sorry about using the old-school name, but you have to admit it’s catchy.” She offers an indifferent shrug.

I lean over Skyla’s shoulder, careful not to let Angel fly out of my arms, but all I see is red, literally. “What’s it mean?”

Emily grunts up at Gage and me. “I got one for the two of you.” She whips out another piece of paper and douses it with that quickly diminishing red pastel in her hand. Her hand moves so quickly a pink powdered plume rises in its wake, covering Em’s face with an eerie crimson glow. Once she’s through, she simply whips out another piece of paper and replicates the effort. “One for each of you.” She hands one to Gage and me, and we stare down at Emily’s lack of creativity and wonder what the hell it all means.

I’m pretty sure Skyla and Gage are thinking the same thing I am. Danger. Fire.

“Fire?” I whisper. It’s what I essentially warned myself of this afternoon.

“Danger?” Skyla whispers.

“No.” Gage runs his finger down the chalky page and leaves a trail in its wake. “Blood.”

Cooper and Laken show up, and the mood brightens as we abandon Emily’s finger paints for talk of post-graduation life and prospects of a mini-Cooper running around soon. They’re both starting graduate school at Host, and Coop has already accepted a coaching position at West.

Laken laughs. “I’m content for now.” She holds her hands out to me, and I hand her my precious baby girl. “This is enough for me. My niece.” She winks at Skyla.

Ezrina and Nev emerge from the woods and head on over.

“Here she is.” I wrap my arms around the woman of the hour. “And you look amazing if I didn’t tell you the first time.”

“Am.” She holds out her arms, exposing her painfully swollen belly. Ezrina hasn’t had the easiest ride with this pregnancy. Those nightly retching sessions shockingly echoed throughout the house. But I’m glad she’s at the finish line.

“You’re going to make a great mother.” I land a kiss to her cheek.

“Am a mother.” She nods to the back slider before darting in that direction.

“Wesley’s here.” Nev takes in a depleted breath. “Rina considers Tobie every bit her own.” He gives a wistful shake of the head. “I hope she’s not setting herself up for heartbreak. Rina would be destroyed if he ever took that little girl out of her life. She’d do anything to keep her within arm’s reach.” He takes off for his glowing bride, and suddenly it all makes sense.

Coop closes his eyes a moment. “And that’s why she did it.”

Skyla spears both Cooper and Laken with a sharp look. “That makes sense. Ezrina’s body did produce a child—Tobie. But the greater mystery is why in the hell haven’t the two of you killed Wes yet?”

Coop and Laken exchange a quick glance as if an execution were still on the table.

“You know”—Skyla leans in—“rip him a new one. Tear out his jugular.” She shakes her head at the two of them because for the life of her, she doesn’t get their shared silence, and neither do I. “What’s going on?”

Wes comes over and kills the party per usual, chasing both Coop and Laken into the house, and they take Angel right along with them.

Wes smiles that eerie Gage Oliver knockoff grin. I glance to the patio and spot Ezrina and Nev bouncing Tobie between them. She’s beautiful, and innocent, and it’s easy for me not to put her in the same category as her demonic father.

“The Kraggers are inside—just Emerson and Holden—his wife, too,” Wes announces as if this were news we actually wanted to hear.

“That’s nice.” Skyla grunts as Chloe pops up by her side like a pit bull ready to defend its owner from a rogue beast. “How’s Kresley? Was she too tired to come? But then, knowing who she’s been rubbing up against, I bet she’s been coming quite frequently.”

Chloe belts out a laugh and high-fives her new best friend. “We can always count on you for a solid one-liner.”

Gage groans. “Skyla.” He wraps his arms around his wife as if holding her back from a fight. “Wes, we know.”

“We know, and we’re confused as hell,” I offer. “Care to explain?”

Wes hoods those stormy eyes of his in Ezrina’s direction. “There’s nothing to see here. Just an old flame willing to do whatever it takes to make me happy.” He reverts his attention to us and grins. “I suppose true love exists after all.”

Gage shakes his head. “You don’t have that with Kres. You never will,” he says it tenderly as if talking a distraught man down from the ledge. “You love the deepest part of Laken—not just the shell.”

Skyla’s chest bucks as if she were in tears. “You are killing Laken with all of your perversity. First, demanding that Chloe morph? Then using time travel as a sexual device by taking Laken over and over again?” She gives a hard sniff as if she’s trying to hold it together. “And then bargaining with a desperate woman to transform into the likeness of the only woman you will ever pine for. How very sad for you both.” Skyla takes a step in close to him. “Laken told me all about Ephemeral. About those early days when she pined for you. I bet you’ve tried a thousand times to go back, to change your own heart. If only you took Laken into your arms when she wanted to be there, how easy this all would have been for you.” A tear falls down her cheek. “You had victory in your grasp, and you didn’t even know it. But you blew it so big. It must kill you each and every day to know that.”

“It does.” Wes looks right through Skyla as he answers. Then, just like that, he awakens as if someone shook him. “But today it isn’t about me, is it?” He grins over at Gage as if they’re in on some private joke. “Dominique Winters has slapped the Barricade with a libel suit. She’s taken it to the Justice Alliance. It’s laughable. She’s taken the Retribution League there as well in the event your mother hasn’t filled you in on the news just yet. She says we’ve ruined their good name by having her daughter captured along with the mercenaries working for you. She’s made it clear that the Winters haven’t chosen sides in our little feud as she calls it.”

Skyla flinches, and it’s evident she hasn’t heard. Not shocking, though. Candace isn’t nearly as attentive to Skyla as Demetri is to Wes.

Dudley appears as if from thin air and wraps an arm around Skyla, completely dismissing the fact Gage still has her in a lock from behind, and Gage relents. That’s always been my nephew’s problem. He gives in too quickly. It’s the nice guy in him. I don’t know how Demetri ever plans on beating that out of him.

“Is there an issue?” Dudley doesn’t bother with the niceties when it comes to Wesley, or anyone else for that matter.

“No issue.” Wes steps in toward Skyla, uncomfortably close, showing off the size of his balls to all those around. “I love Laken. She is and always will be mine. I promise you, I will always protect her.”

Skyla spits in his face, leaving a wake of white stretchy phlegm dangling from his eyebrows. “And you will always bed her under the guise of other people.”

“Wrong.” He wipes Skyla’s precipitous affection away like tears. “I will have her again. I’ve had a vision. The Justice Alliance itself has affirmed this to me.” He stalks off toward the house.

“What you saw was Kresley doing a poor imitation of her!” she shouts after him. “Bastard.” Skyla shivers from the confrontation.

“You should go easy on him.” Gage carefully pulls her in, and Skyla all but hauls off and slaps him.

“Go easy on him?” She jumps back just enough to slip out of his grasp.

And that’s my cue. “Dudley”—I nod toward the corral in the rear of the property brimming with llamas and horses docile enough to be overgrown house cats—“you mind if I have a word with you?”

We speed out of Gage and Skyla’s latest conflict and presumably into one of our own. Dudley and I seem to make a pattern out of not getting along. I’d like to end that eventually. Now would be nice.

“What’s on your twisted mind?” He picks up a foot-long blade of grass and ties it in a knot before sending it sailing through the air. “Ms. Bishop has alerted me to the fact there’s a distinct possibility the two of you will be in need of my chambers this evening.”

“Chloe is delusional.” I glance back at the party to find Chloe at Em’s table with a small crowd amassed around her. “And speaking of delusions, it seems I’ve had a few of my own. I keep seeing him.” I shake my head out at the beasts that roam the corral.

“Keep seeing whom?”

“Me. I keep seeing myself. It’s happened a few too many times this year, and each time his message is vaguer than it was before.”

His gaze twitches into the woods as he considers this. “You’ve seen yourself,” he says it like a fact. “This must be important. What have you to say to yourself?”

“I don’t know. The first time was that night of the boys’ christening. I passed out. I saw a vision of Gage on a throne. He turned into a dragon, and I said to myself that I was going to help stop him.”

Dudley grunts. “And you need a road map for that one? What else?” He looks both bored and irritated at once.

“I saw him just now. He was at the bowling alley. He said something about Dominique Winters.” I try to rack my brain for his wording. “Something about not keeping an eye on her? Not taking care of her? And then he said I should love Skyla and Gage—talk to them. He mentioned something about not running from trouble. Running into the fire.”

“Fire?” Dudley’s head ticks back a notch as if I were alerting him to one.

“Fire.” I shrug.

Michelle Miller lets out a whistle that can wake the dead without Skyla’s magical ring, and both Dudley and I head in that direction. Ezrina and Nev sit center stage next to a pile of oversized presents all wrapped in pastel paper while almost all of the tables Dudley has set out are filled to the brim with guests.

“What do you think it means?”

Dudley smacks his lips together. “It means Shelly needs us to move this little gift grab along. Ezrina and Heathcliff will have your basement brimming with all the modern finery this material world offers. It seems children require a plethora of nonsensical items to survive and thrive these days. I suppose that’s something you’ve grown familiar with.”

“You’re a smart ass. Yes, I’m familiar. And I happen to like all the paraphernalia a baby requires because it makes me happy to see it. What do you think it means that I’m stepping down from paradise?”

“It means he’ll help you tame that dragon your nefarious nephew is about to transform into. It means you should have dealt with Mrs. Winters now that her daughter was caught in the government snare. I assume she’s furious and ready to point her legal pistols at whomever and whatever she pleases. It means care for Skyla. Don’t bed her. It means talk to that moronic nephew of yours before he falls off the face of this earth due to his own stupidity. And the next time you see flames—run straight in.” He sheds a shit-eating grin as he finds an empty seat near the back.

“Run straight in.” I shake my head as I make my way to Skyla and Gage as he bounces Nathan in his arms contentedly, his miniature lookalike, and it warms me. Something about seeing him as a father makes it feel as if we’re winning the war on keeping him on the right side of the celestial law. I spot Laken off on the other end of the yard holding Angel safe in her arms. And I spot Chloe handing Tobie to Ellis and vice versa as if they were playing a game of hot potato. Kate sits on Skyla’s other side and offers me a quick wave. She has a slim white scarf wrapped around her neck to hide that jagged seam Ezrina gifted her. Ezrina both stitched and glued her back together. Lastly, I spot Wes off to the side talking to—Coop?

“Shit,” I whisper, leaning in to Gage. “Wes and Coop alert to the left.” As far as I see it, Coop has no business simply talking to Wes. An ass kicking is long overdue.

Skyla cranes her neck, and it’s then I notice the bulge under her shirt, a pair of tired feet dangling lifeless to the side. Skyla is beautiful all of the time, but when she’s nursing, it takes her beauty to a magnificent level. She holds the ethereal charm and calm of a princess, and she mesmerizes me.

Gage flicks his finger over my thigh, painfully, the way we used to when we were kids. “My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”

“Right.” A small laugh pushes through my nostrils before reverting back to Coop and Wes. “You think I should head over?”

“No,” Skyla says without turning around. “It’s been quiet. They’re handling it. Speaking of quiet”—she spins around as much as the baby lying over her will allow—“have you noticed that Wes has been laying low as of late? You think he’s got some surprise attack on the horizon?” Her eyes flit from Gage to me.

“I’ve thought the same thing.” I look to Gage, but he’s suspiciously quiet. There’s no way Gage would hold anything back from Skyla and me. Not yet anyway.

The three of us sit and watch Ezrina glow as she opens box after box of every baby necessity under the sun, but it’s Nev who’s excited. Ezrina simply ogles each item with a morbid curiosity as if it were a piece that belonged in a museum.

Ezrina opens something that has the entire crowd lost in oohs and ahhs, as if she had somehow produced the very baby she’s carrying. Skyla turns around, her teeth pinning her bottom lip.

“Thank you,” she mouths.

And then I realize Ezrina opened the gift from me. A year’s worth of diapers. The same gift I gave to Skyla and Gage. Yes, I’m still in it to win it. I pay Lizbeth to pick up the goods each time she heads out to Cost Club, and she does. I wouldn’t have a clue what to buy, and Gage is too proud to take my money. I don’t think I’ll stop after the first year. Heck, I know I won’t. It’s the least I could do. I love those boys as if they were my own.

The whoop of a siren goes off near the rear of the gathering, and every head on the property cranes in that direction.

Then I see them. I rise from my seat as if rising from my body, every last part of me numb with surprise.

“Shit.” I hear Gage hiss behind me.

An entire infantry of men in blue jackets, the letters CIA clearly marked on their lapels as they swarm over the property. They’ve come in number, spreading over the landscape like a stampede of buffalo. They are legion.

One of them jumps on a chair and holds a megaphone to his lips. “Please remain seated. This is strictly precautionary. There is nothing to fear. The use of cell phones or other devices is prohibited from this moment on. You may not leave the premises. We have the property surrounded.”

They bleed in from every orifice, cuffs in hand, angry-faced, solemn as shit. I glance to Dudley as a couple of men double-team him, sending his hands forcibly behind his back before shuffling him toward the gate.

I glance to Wes. Same story.

“Shit.” I look around at the bevy of stunned faces, almost all of them one of us, otherworldly beings by design, descendants of the Nephilim—and I don’t waste a moment. “Run!” I roar as I help Skyla up and send her into the woods with Gage. Kate jumps to her feet, startled, and I’m half-afraid her head will roll right off. “Go after them!” I help her hurdle the chair knocked over in their wake, and she bolts like hell. The entire damn party scatters like ants.

But I don’t take off. I head straight for a pack of them with my arms held high.

I run straight into the fire.