Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After Book 5) by Addison Moore
They merge into the bodies mingling in the hall, and I glance outside wistfully, hoping a dark-haired prince would show up and make my heart go pitter-patter.
Lexy Bakova comes up from the porch with her copper hair cut to precision just under her chin. It’s been her signature look for years. She’s enrobed in a white wool coat and is holding a pot of bright red poinsettias. Lex came by last week to help Mom with her new Pinterest fascination—baby butts imprinted on sweatshirts. It was supposed to be a Christmas gift for me, one sweatshirt with Nathan’s bare bottom dipped in blue paint and one sweatshirt with Barron’s bare bottom dipped in green. But as fate and Barron’s need to clear his pipes would have it—it was a real shitstorm. Ethan and Drake have dubbed poor Barron “The Brown Bomber” ever since.
“Outta my way, Messenger, before I dump these all over you. I’ve had the worst luck these past few weeks.” She scowls her way into the foyer. “Where’s Logan?” She lifts a brow as if there were an ounce of possibility she could garner his attention. “I left his clothes out for him this afternoon and ironed his shirt and tie. I’m telling you that boy would be lost without me. We stayed up all night watching Miracle on 34th Street and It’s a Wonderful Life. We were both exhausted this morning, we could hardly get out of bed. Anyway, I couldn’t find him this evening so I figured he came right over. You know, a typical Skyla emergency pulled him out of his world and sent him charging to the rescue. Logan is such the knight in shining armor.”
“Yes,” I bleed the word like a threat. My brain stopped processing her stupid speak as soon as she painted the two of them in bed. But I’m one hundred percent sure that’s not what happened. “You can give the plant to my mother. She’s in the family room pissing off Emma.” Much like you’re pissing me off.
Lexy does a disappearing act, and I’m just about to shut the door as the fair-haired Oliver, my precious Logan who just so happens to be living up to Marshall’s nickname for him, The Pretty One, shows up with a newly minted smile.
“My,” I muse as I take him in wearing his dark sports jacket, his Bakova pressed dressed shirt and tie peering out from underneath. He’s neatly paired it with dark inky jeans, and despite the fact I firmly belong to Gage, Logan still has the power to make my heart skip a beat. “Heard you had a rough night. Sounds like fun was had by all. Is it true Bakova and you lounged around in bed all morning?”
The sweet smile glides off his face, and his shoulders sag. “It’s true.” His eyes meet with mine, and I scour his blessed by God features for a hint of sarcasm, but there isn’t one.
“Holy hell, you have three seconds to explain.” My mouth hangs open, because for the life of me, I can’t imagine Logan jumping Lexy. Don’t want to.
“Skyla”—his eyes close a moment as a dull laugh rumbles from him—“we watched movies in the living room with Michelle and Liam.”
“A double date,” I’m quick to point out. Although my blood isn’t quite boiling yet, because I happen to know that Lexy is relentless in pursuit of her favorite Oliver, and if she has her way, she’ll find a way to make her delusions a reality.
“Not a double date. Anyway, I went to bed, and I got a leg cramp. It hurt like hell, and I was cussing up a storm at the top of my lungs, hoping Ezrina would hear me, but Lex came instead. She brought me water and a banana, and eventually it worked itself out.” He winces. “Sorry. She might have fallen asleep at the foot of my bed.”
“I bet.” I pull him in and offer a hard embrace. His spiced cologne permeates me and brings up every good memory we ever shared. “And I’m sure she offered up her fair share of body rubs to make you feel better.”
He pulls back and grimaces. “For the record, I only accepted the one to the back of my leg. In full disclosure, she did offer to give me a happy ending.” He winces. “I would have demanded she leave, but I was howling in pain and needed the damn water to get hydrated. I forgot how much attention the human body really needs. Do you forgive me?”
“Yes,” I balk. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
“Good.” He gives a nervous glance over my shoulder. “There was something she said last night that made me stick around.” His amber eyes bear into mine. “She mentioned something about your mother trying to work a deal out with her.”
“A what?” My mind goes straight to the mother that’s throwing this shindig before it zeros in on the mother who’s really behind the Bakova deal. “Oh God, what did she say?”
“She mentioned something about a list your mother wanted her to put together. Something to do with you and me. She’s tight-lipped about it, though.” Logan leans in and bounces his nose to mine. “It’s entirely up to you if you want me to keep digging. I’m not looking to hurt you with whatever moves Lexy has up her skirt. And believe me, she’s getting far too aggressive for my comfort level.”
“No.” I glance back. “I’ll handle this. It doesn’t sound like she’s up for divulging information to you—at least not unless you pay the sexual exchange rate.”
A flicker of light in the woods garners my attention for a moment, and I glance over to see the barely visible film of what looks like a white dappled horse, a young rider on its back, and I gasp.
“What is it?” He spins around.
“It’s nothing.” Oh my God, it’s something. It’s that little witch. The demon with the choking horse. “Let’s get you something to drink. I’d hate for Nurse Lexy to have to throw on some latex gloves and offer up an exam.”
Logan rumbles with a laugh, his lids hood low and sexy, and for a moment my heart pounds out a few caustic beats all for him. “Honey, she wants to go in bare-handed.”
“That’s disgusting,” I say, getting lost in Logan Oliver’s eyes as our brief yet fiery honeymoon flashes before me in jags, Logan over me, in me, his fevered kisses, the way his mouth covered my body in long, hot tracks, and I take a quick breath and force myself to snap out of it.
“I saw that,” he whispers. “You and me, Rome. I think I saw what you were thinking.”
“What?” I glance down to find my hands free of him. “That’s not possible. We’re not touching. Do you have new powers?” Logan did essentially just come back from the dead.
“No, and before you ask, that sorry sack of skin in the refrigerator Ezrina was housing is gone. Your mother called in favors, and this is indeed the old me. No new powers, but one new curse.”
A choking sound emits from my throat as I struggle to ask the question.
“Your mother.” He flicks an angry glance to the sky. “I don’t want to talk about it. Rest assured, it was most likely a one-time deal. I cannot read your mind unless we’re touching. But you have one more carnal thought about me, and well”—a devilish grin blooms on his lips—“that’s as good as an invite for me to pry.” He holds up his hands. “I don’t get it, so don’t even ask.” That last word gets pulled out in dismay as he gets lost staring at something behind me in the house. “Please tell me you didn’t put the boys in green dresses.”
“They’re elves.” We turn back just as footsteps come up the walk, and Cooper Flanders stands before us, large dark circles under his red tired eyes. A look on his face that suggests he wants to scream or kill, preferably both.
“I invited Wes and Laken tonight, and Wesley promised he’d bring her,” I whisper to Logan.
“And you’ve invited me.” Coop sheds his signature grin that makes him look decidedly like Logan.
“You’re going to jog her memory. I know you are. Dr. Booth and Laken’s mother are already here, along with her sisters—both Jens included.” Yes, Laken has two older sisters named Jen. One from her mother and one from the Counts. It’s a long, sordid story that took place during their original mindfuck years at Ephemeral. All of the aforementioned people are up-to-date on Laken’s memory loss. “Dr. Booth says anniversaries and holidays are a great way to jar emotion in someone with sudden memory loss. He’s just itching to examine her himself, and I’m hoping Wes can convince her to do it.
“Skyla,” Logan hisses, and I slap my fingers to my lips, only to find my other hand firmly gripped to his.
“Oh, thank God,” I whisper, taking my hand back.
Coop wedges his way past us, stealing a hug from me in the process. “Merry Christmas, guys. I’m sure it’s going to be a shitshow for me.” He dives into the crowd of bodies and disappears into the house.
“Skyla!” My mother waves to me as a cheery Christmas song blares over the speakers. “Close the door. You’re letting in a draft, and we’ll all catch our deaths tonight!”
Isn’t she quick to incite the Grim Reaper?
“Oh, hon, leave it open.” Darla Johnson chortles while falling over my mother with a cup of seemingly spiked eggnog splashing in her hand. “It’s hotter than hell in here, and if this is anything like last year’s party, then you might want to bring in the garden hose to douse the flames.”
It’s true. It’s piping hot in here, and with the mass of humanity that’s gathered for this not-so silent night, I can’t help but think once Demetri arrives, it will be a real disco inferno. And who the hell are all these people, anyway?
Logan frowns hard at something past me and I turn to find the most beautiful vision in the world, and my heart stops cold. Gage O—oh, never mind, it’s just Wesley. And standing staunchly by his side is Laken, looking as drop-dead gorgeous as ever with a red velvet cape, looking every bit the Red Riding Hood showing up with her own Big Bad Wolf. In her arms is a bouncing Tobie, all decked out in a beautiful red velvet dress and her hair up in two perky pigtails. There’s a third person holding up the rear, and I gasp as I spot Chloe. Of course, she’s here. Her parents are inside, as is Brody, her brother. But the sight of her with Wes and Laken doesn’t sit well with me.
“It looks as if you’ve got a piece of used toilet paper on your heels, Wes,” I tease. “Never mind, it’s just a used piece of Bishop.”
Logan wraps an arm around my waist. “Good one.”
Chloe glowers at me. “I’m still the FBI’s most wanted. Aren’t you glad I came? Who knows? Maybe they’ll storm the place and I’ll die in a hail of gunfire. The parties your mother throws always end with death, don’t they, Skyla?”
“I think that’s enough.” Laken clears her throat. “Merry Christmas to you, too,” Laken glowers at me, her face filled with disappointment.
“Merry Christmas, girls.” I dive over her and Tobie with a hug, and I can feel Tobie slapping me and kissing me all at the same time.
“Ly-la.” Tobie gives my ear a tug and laughs. I secretly love her little nickname for me, so I don’t dare correct it. “Mama.” She jabs a finger in my cheek and I pretend to bite it, making her laugh hysterically. Yes, she calls me Mama on the odd occasion, too.
“Coop’s inside.” I nod to Wes.
“Thanks.” He offers up a pained smile. When I mentioned the idea of the two of them showing up tonight, Wes was one hundred percent on board.
Laken moves past us. “I’d better get the baby where it’s warm. She’s hungry. Can I get a snack for her?”
“Yes! Anything you want in the kitchen. And my mother has a huge buffet set out.”
Laken scuttles past us, clutching onto Tobie as if she were her own. Crap. She’s not supposed to get attached to Tobie. But who could blame her? October Edinger is cute enough to make even the most steel-hearted woman want to beg Wes to pop an ovary. I may not like Wes or Chloe, but I have to admit they made one super cute child.
Chloe steps up and glares at both Logan and me. Her cheek is still swollen in that cat-like scratch I gifted her, and I’m a tad proud of my marksmanship. “Move over, Skyla. There’s a new mama in town. Laken has bumped you in the maternal department over at Edinger-ville. She’s all but whipped out a boob for the little booger.” She offers Logan a lazy smile. “I’ve spoken with Candace.” She scowls back at me. “She’s campaigning hard for the two of you. Why don’t you just hit the sheets and make your own mama proud? It’s sick the way she’s pandering me to get the two of you to knock boots. As if I had that power.”
“Did she try to make a deal with you?” Logan winces because I’m afraid we both know the answer.
So that’s what she’s up to. Boy, if she’s asking Lexy for help in that department, she’s barking up the wrong matchmaker. Chloe isn’t exactly a home run either.
Chloe looks to me and grunts, “I’m sure Messenger will get it out of me sooner than later. But right now, I need some eggnog if I’m going to get through this night.” She bumps her shoulder into me hard as she attempts to pass me by, but I block her.
“Wait.” I look to Wesley. “Chloe here was found with Gage’s head the night he was murdered. She was naked, and there were tracks of blood staining her body.”
Wes groans like he might be sick. “Shit,” he hisses at her. Those heavy brows of his hood over with rage the way Gage’s used to, and that’s precisely why I told him. I wanted Chloe to see Gage Oliver’s likeness so utterly disappointed in her. I needed to see it, too. “Chloe, that’s low and disgusting, even for you.”
She’s quick to scoff at his rebuke as the fog plumes from her lips. “As if you’re any better. If the headless roles were reversed, I have no doubt where to find that poor girl’s mouth. And even now her mind is as good as dead, and I do know you’ve been bouncing on those squeaky mattress springs. The narcissism never ends with you,” she growls at the three of us before muscling past me. “And, Skyla, I can hardly wait to see what you got for me this year.”
“It’s called a punishment, and you’ll be receiving it soon!” I call after her.
Chloe inches her way through the swarm in the hall as my mother begins distributing those ridiculous chicken hats with bells around their necks, creating yet another annoying cacophony of sounds.
“Wes,” I hiss at him. “Get in there and control your women.” I bite down on my bottom lip because that’s not quite what I meant. “Please do whatever you can to get Laken to wake the hell the up. This is killing Coop. And as for Chloe, I need to hang her by her toes, but as much as I want to squelch her, I can’t stop thinking about Tobie. This is one scenario where I lean on your wicked wisdom to help. Make her miserable, Wes. Make her pay for what she’s done to your brother.”
He furrows his brows, looking pissed and confused. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something. And whatever it is, I offer up my blessing in advance. I don’t think you need to worry about Tobie.” He looks past me, and I follow his eyes to where Laken is talking to her sisters while rocking the toddler. “I think she’s going to be just fine.” He looks to Logan and me. “You may have taken my Spectators away, but you haven’t depleted my arsenal. I’ll have the world itching for protection from the monsters that roam this earth.” A feeble smile tenses on his lips. “I’m sorry, Skyla, but the game must go on. Celestra can’t rule forever. The new serum to cover the markers is proving stable. It looks as if it’s going to be a prosperous new year for the Barricade, after all.” He glances past me. “I’d better get in there. Poor Coop looks as if he’s having his ass handed to him.”
Logan grunts, “As if you care about Cooper.”
“I don’t care about Coop.” He pulls a tight smile as if maybe he does. “But I care about Laken. Look, I’ve been point-blank about the fact she essentially hates me. She thinks that was the brain injury. I’m trying, Skyla.” He glares at Logan. “And I am determined to be transparent about this. My ass is on the line with the Justice Alliance, no thanks to Cooper Flanders.” He bristles by and heads on in. It’s his last offense with Laken that has him headed to court. But in light of this new information, I’m afraid they might go soft on him. Hell, Laken might be there begging them to drop all charges.
Ellis and Giselle show up and head on in after we exchange the necessary
“Oh, I’m going to eat her for breakfast, she’s so cute!” I coo at the baby’s tiny serious face with red curls springing up around her forehead like a row of poppies. “She’s just delicious!”
“She is her mother’s daughter.” Nev brims with pride while decked out like a true Dickens’ caroler with his top hat and fancy stitches of yesteryear.
Ezrina looks irate despite the jovial air about the night. Chloe’s face seems less prominent in her with each passing day, her hair freshly dyed to match the baby’s, fire engine red. But tonight, Ezrina’s entire countenance is breathing fire. “Five minutes,” she gruffs. “And then we leave. This is no gathering for a newborn,” she grouses at Nev, and he stiffens. “Where’s that Sector?” She gives the evil eye to everyone within her visual field.
“Not here yet,” I offer.
“Present and accounted for!” a cheery voice booms from behind. “Dear Rina, don’t hold it against me. The roads are slick. It’s a certain death out there.” He speeds over, looking every bit the tall, dark-suited, and handsome heavenly being I know him to be.
“Hello, handsome,” I say to Marshall, partially because I mean the hell out of it, and partially because I want to stroke his ego enough to get him to do my bidding. But first, I have a bone to pick with Ezrina. “Wesley just let us know he’s close to permanently covering the markers. He wants Celestra out of commission, and fast. Are you still working with him?” I can’t help but snarl the words at her. Ezrina has been known to waffle with her alliances on account of Tobie. Yes, Tobie was born through Ezrina’s old body, but for the love of all that is good, she should realize siding with the enemy is never a wise thing.
“No.” She smacks her lips, clearly ticked that I went there. “Now, excuse me. My dear child needs warmth and mother’s milk.” She slinks by, pulling down her corset until a ruby red nipple peeks out.