Elysian by Addison Moore

“I think we’ll get to that.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “I really believe we will.” He leans in close until our lips are just a breath away. “You ready to do this? You ready to meet my grandmother?”

  “Ready and willing.” Truth is I’d go anywhere with Logan, meet anyone, but meeting his grandmother, this feels as though we’re taking our relationship to the next level. This feels big, something akin to an engagement.

  The room warbles, the molecules around us shift and bend until a new scene emerges, a garden, a sunny day, the scent of fresh lemons and spring grass infiltrates our senses.

  “Did you forget something?” A women’s voice warbles from behind.

  We turn and find an older woman, robust in her beauty, dark crimson lipstick and an elegant smile with a large white hat planted on top of her head. She wears a cream sundress with Battenberg lace cutouts over her shoulders while holding a pair of pruning shears.

  “I’m traveling.” Logan goes over and offers a solid embrace. “Grandma, there’s someone I’m dying for you to meet.” He extends a hand in my direction. “This is the love of my life, Skyla. Skyla, this is my grandmother, Jean.” Logan beams when he says it. His entire face scopes me out with wonder.

  “So nice to meet you.” I walk over and offer a quick shake.

  “Likewise.” She gives a gentle nod. “So this is the young lady you gave the pendant to.” Her entire person glows with delight.

  I take a breath and dart a glance over at Logan. I had no idea we were going to burst her bubble today.

  “Not exactly.” Logan returns to my side. “I gave it to someone else, someone who I thought I loved but didn’t. She’s a Celestra, and I assumed that was the girl I was meant to protect. It’s been something I’ve regretted ever since.”

  “Oh, Logan.” Her face crumbles.

  He heads into a long, drawn out story that involves Chloe and her wickedness, how she came back to life with the purchase of my blood and has been wreaking unholy hell in our lives ever since.

  “This is disastrous.” She pulls off her wide-brimmed hat, revealing a full head of auburn curls. “Come, let’s have a seat.” She leads us over to a picnic bench situated under a row of towering eucalyptus trees. “First, how is the rest of the family?”

  Logan draws me into him before relaxing his arm over my waist. “The family is great, and Skyla knows about Liam, about me taking his place in the future.”

  “Logan is special,” she directs it to me with a nod. “The Decision Council has amazing things planned for him. Liam wanted to sacrifice for his baby brother. I’ve petitioned a higher court to revisit his case and offer him a treble if possible. It would mean everything to me if he could taste the fruit of life just once more. I’d love to see all of my grandchildren happy, and great grandchildren as well.” She freezes her gaze over me with the slight look of a threat. I’m pretty sure she’s referring to Gage.

  “What higher court?” Logan presses her for answers.

  “The Decision Council.”

  “Oh, I know all about the Decision Council,” I volunteer. “My mother’s on it. And I agree”—I give Logan’s waist a squeeze—“Logan is most definitely special.”

  “Your mother?” She squints, sprouting a dozen different crow’s feet around her eyes.

  “Her name is Candace. She’s a Caelestis. I’m her only spawn—her favorite pawn.” I’ve never spoken truer words.

  “Interesting.” Her brows narrow as she examines me under these new circumstances. “I have a supervising spirit,” she announces. “A man I once considered the love of my life, but I chose another path,” she says it dry as if she were speaking between the lines. “His name is Rothello.” She tilts her head.

  I take in a giant breath.

  “Rothello?” I glance over at Logan who seems slower to digest this bit of explosive news. “He’s a Sector isn’t he?”

  “You do know him.” Her lips curve as if she were happy I finally caught on.

  “Yes, I know him,” I say it incredulous. “He’s the one who started the faction war in my name.”

  “Your name.” She pulls her shoulders back. “Then it is you.”

  “What’s me?” I’m panicked over this.

  “You’re the one Celestra has been waiting for. It was long prophesied that desperation would breed resolution. Were you able to prevail? Did you win the war?”

  “We don’t know.” Logan goes on to explain the details. “Skyla says that her mother let her touch the sword, but she was returned to Earth, and now it’s a waiting game.”

  What’s this “Skyla says” business? It’s as if he wasn’t even present. Maybe seeing his grandmother has thrown him for a loop. He never was a big fan of light driving.

  His grandmother reaches from across the table and picks up his hands. She looks dead-on into his eyes for a prolonged period of time.

  “Oh dear,” she whispers. “Oh dear, God in heaven.” Her features dissolve in a state of panic.

  I’m starting to feel a little left out of the extraterrestrial communication methods.

  She shakes her head as if she’s answering him, and they both look over at me with guilt-ridden expressions.

  “The pendant must be retrieved right away,” she says it sharp as if reprimanding the two of us for losing it to begin with. “This Chloe girl obviously understands the relevance. And if she’s pledged over to Countenance, make no mistake, she won’t give it willingly.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say, trying to defuse the situation. “Logan is so protective, and so is Gage. I feel like I have my own security force around me twenty-four seven. Plus, I’ve taken down a Count or two on my own before.” I leave Marshall out of the equation for now. No use in bonding with her over our secret love of Sectors while wrenching Logan’s heart.

  “It does matter,” she corrects. “It very much matters. And did you mention my sweet Gage?” She gives a peaceable smile.

  I’m not sure how old Gage is in this juncture in time or if he even exists yet, but she seems well apprised as to who he is.

  “Skyla here is trying to decide between the two of us.” Logan’s jaw pops as his discomfort increases.

  “That will never work.” She winces into him.

  “It will,” he bullets the words out like a challenge.

  “It’s an impossibility. You and I both know that,” she says it slow, drawn out as if this were a simple truth, and it is. “Should you choose Logan”—she nods into him before reverting her attention my way—“it’s imperative you retrieve this pendant.”

  “It’s imperative regardless.” His mouth opens then closes quickly as they exchange a knowing glance.

  “Well then.” She sharpens her gaze over me. “You must retrieve the pendant before she gifts it to another Celestra. Even if it’s in the hands of wickedness, she still must gift it to you for it to remain in your custody, or it will make its way back to her.”

  “That’s happened before.” It comes from my lips, numb and stilted. “Besides, she would never gift it to anybody,” I say it as a fact. “Chloe doesn’t have a kind bone in her body. Except with Gage. She’s beyond obsessed with him.”

  “Gage?” She draws her head back. “Then he’s your key. Somewhere in that black heart of hers she wants to please him. A person always desires to please those they love.”

  “Chloe doesn’t understand love,” I whisper. “She tried to hack Gage’s head off in the war—but he’s fine now.”

  “Find her weakness and use it,” she asserts. “You must have this pendant, Skyla. I see how much Logan loves you. It was truly meant for you.”

  Logan tightens his grip around my waist and brushes a tender kiss over my cheek.

  “What good will it really do? I’ve already been taken by the Counts. I think I’ve won the war, and Gage said both Logan and I would live to a ripe old age.” Maybe all is not lost just because we don’t have this little piece of jewelry dangling from my neck.

  “If Chloe perishes?
??—she begins low, controlling herself on some level to get the message across—“if she’s bound, it will be of no use to anybody else. The pendant must be gifted while the person who owns it is still alive. I gave it to Logan myself just this year.” Her eyes glitter with a smile all their own. She returns her attention to me. “I’ll speak to Rothello and see what I can glean. I’ll get back to you if I find anything of interest. Be good to one another.” She rises and so do we.

  Logan and his grandmother exchange a long, heartfelt hug. I go to shake her hand, but she pulls me into a warm embrace instead.

  “You, Skyla Messenger, are already family.”

  I press out a forced smile and take a step back until we’re no longer touching.

  I know for a fact Logan didn’t tell her my last name.

  I glance over at him. And why in the hell is Logan’s memory of the war so damn whitewashed? What was up with that secret conversation they were having?

  I’ve got a feeling granny, here, knows more than she’s letting on.

  And so does Logan.

  9

  Love Your Enemy

  Logan and I return to the butterfly room, post our inter-dimensional jaunt across the time continuum. All of those nagging doubts, those red flags going off inside my stomach about something being amiss have spoiled my mood.

  “You want to drive down to Devil’s Peak?” Logan dips a kiss just under my ear. I take in the warm scent of his cologne and rub his cheek. The rough texture of his five o’clock shadow, prickles against my fingers.

  The muffled sound of music streams in from the closet below, and the floorboards vibrate beneath our feet in rhythm to the bass.

  “Maybe some other time.” I tick my head toward the door. “Looks like Mia and Melissa’s little get together is in full swing. I’d better head downstairs and hold down the fort. Who knows what trouble a bunch of eighth graders can get into. You want to hang out?”

  Logan looks into my eyes with a hint of worry. He must suspect something since I’m a little standoffish.

  “I need to run an errand.” He pulls me in and holds me so tight it feels sexual, erotic on an unexpected level. It’s heaven having his rock hard chest so close to mine. “Whatever you do, don’t stop believing in us, Skyla. We’re going to happen. Those visions were given as an assurance.” He drops a heated kiss over the top of my head.

  I pull back and take him in. “Are you going to see Chloe?”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “I’m so pissed at her, she’s the last person I want to see tonight.” He walks over to the exit and opens the door to the attic. “We’ll figure out a way to get that pendant from her. She’ll gift it to you sooner than later.” A faraway look takes over. “She has to.”

  We part ways, and I drop through the closet on my way downstairs. The music is so loud the steps hum beneath my feet as I descend toward the mayhem.

  An entire gaggle of adolescents have amassed in the family room. The lights are all on, so already I’m apprised of the fact that Mia and Melissa don’t have the faintest idea on how to throw a decent party, but I’ll be the last person to give them tips on mood lighting.

  A pair of cold hands cover my eyes from behind, and I spin to find Brielle laughing her head off.

  “You’re late to the party!”

  “Technically, I don’t think I was invited. What are you doing here? Trolling the junior league for fresh meat?”

  “Very funny.” She averts her eyes. “I was hanging out with Drake and Em before they went upstairs.”

  “What do you mean, went upstairs?” A boiling rage builds in me over this Em and Drake situation.

  “They wanted to be alone.” She hitches a long auburn lock behind her ear. “I get it. Besides, Chloe and Ethan did the same, so I thought I’d hang out and supervise.”

  Crap. Just knowing Chloe is here defiling the party with her sweaty self makes me want to hang somebody—preferably her.

  “Brielle?” I pull her into the kitchen where the body count is virtually nil—most likely because Tad left us with an empty refrigerator. “Do you love, Drake? Are you still, you know, interested in him that way?”

  Her cheeks flush as she sweeps the floor with her gaze. After knowing Brielle for over a solid year I don’t think I could ever name a time when I had seen her blush let alone look the slightest bit depressed.

  “I do.” She lets out an exasperated breath. “I get it. He wants Em. For whatever reason—and I do mean whatever—he finds her attractive. I’m totally jealous. There I said it.”

  My heart breaks for her. It takes all my strength not to run upstairs and wrap my hands around Drake’s throat, but, then again, I’d hate to see him going at it with Emily. My heart might stop beating from the disturbing visual.

  “Anyway”—she shakes it off—“I don’t want to talk about my love life. I want to talk about yours. We both know Em’s drawings are never wrong.” She gives an impish grin. “You, Skyla Messenger, are going to do the deed, and I’m dying to know with whom.”

  “You and me both.” That’s the God’s honest truth.

  “Oh, come on. You must have some preference, some perverted hierarchy of who you’d like to do it with first.”

  “No,” I say it bored. “Really, I don’t. Besides, my mind has totally been in other places. I won the war, I think.” I open the fridge to pluck out a couple of water bottles and note it’s decidedly bare, so I pour us each a glass from the sink. Landon sink water tastes like shit because Tad is too damn cheap to change the filter. I bet it hasn’t been changed since Chloe lived here—just the thought makes me want to gag. I’m drinking dead Chloe water. Gah, I wish she were still dead. I wish my blood was useless and none of us would have ever been in this mess to begin with. My stomach sours at the thought because I wonder what would have become of Logan if that were the case. Would my mother have brought him to Paragon, to another point in time if it weren’t for the fact I was Celestra? Would Marshall care at all about me? But something tells me he would.

  “You know what I think you should do?” She steps in and takes the water from me. “I think you should sleep with all three of them.” Brielle dispenses her nonsensical wisdom while looking over the rim of her glass. “That way”—she makes a face at the smelly water before returning it to the sink—“you can see who you’re most compatible with in bed.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous. It’s not like I’m going to dismiss the other two because one happens make me feel a little better.”

  “It’s not just that. Trust me”—Brielle lends a dramatic pause—“you want a man who knows his way around both his equipment and yours.”

  “I’m sure each of them could figure it out.” A brief visual of Gage and his equipment runs through my mind, and I blink it away.

  “You’re right, it wouldn’t be fair.” Brielle looks off in a daze for a moment. “It’s obvious Dudley would dominate in that arena. I swear to you, I’ve been with a lot of guys, and not one of them knew half the things that man did. He was just…it was incredible—it was out of this world.”

  “He sort of is out of this world,” I whisper.

  My face explodes like a firecracker on the Fourth of July. I had long suspected Marshall would win the gold in the fornicating Olympics. It doesn’t help that he’s got the face and body of a sexual demigod.

  “All right, enough.” I run my fingers under the sink and sprinkle both her and me with water in an effort to cool us off. “I’m not having some sexual triathlon, so you can pull your head out of the gutter.” I crane my neck to get a look at the crowd behind her. “Speaking of the gutter, have you seen my sisters?”

  “Oh, they’re out in the back.” She bites down on an apprehensive smile. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?” Oh, God, here we go. I plunk my glass on the counter to save myself from cleaning up the shards once it slips from my hand.

  “The Counts are virally pissed at Celestra”—she tilts her head—“and Noster
, but that’s beside the point. They’re regrouping on an awesome scale like I’ve never seen before.”

  I cease breathing. I’m not sure which unnerves me more, the fact the Counts are regrouping or the fact Brielle just used the word awesome in its appropriate context.

  “Wait. What does this have to do with my sisters?” A mild rise of panic surges in me.

  “They’re chapter leaders.”

  “What?” I jump back. “They are not. They probably fed you a line of bullshit, so they can make out in the woods with their overeager boy-toys.”

  “All right, don’t believe me, but there’s a whole group of them out there. I think they’re in charge of the entire junior council here on Paragon.”

  “Who the hell would put my sisters in charge of anything?”

  “Pierce is their superior, and, of course, Morley Harrison is his. By the way, how’s Ellis? Gage told me what happened.”

  “He’s shitty,” I snap. “Just like my sisters are going to be once I get ahold of them.” I bolt out the back, and Brielle follows close behind.

  The damp night air swills in my lungs with its oily haze. Wait…oily haze? Bluish tint…. Oh dear God, there is so a Count catastrophe underway right here in the Landon backyard.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” I pant as I spot a large circle of junior Counts congregating just shy of the woods. “Mia!” My voice shrills into the night, and the coven of wickedness disbands for the evening.

  Mia races up to me in a short mini-dress and heels. My heart nearly stops as I take in her bare shoulders, her miles of long, thin legs.

  “You’re practically naked!” I cry. “And what’s with the evil meet and greet?”

  “Skyla”—Mia averts her gaze—“I can’t tell you. We’re diabolical enemies.” She giggles as Melissa crops up.

  “We are not enemies. We are sisters,” I hiss.

  Chloe and Pierce, A.K.A. stupid Holden, head in this direction, and my heart starts in on a series of unnatural thumps. “Get inside and tell all your little friends to leave.” Good God. I thought Chloe was getting it on with Ethan. But, then again, that was probably a two-minute endeavor.