Elysian (46 page)

Stella had a secret! God knows I’m not going to let a little thing like a casket stand in the way of finding out exactly what it was.

“What was it?” Mia pokes her head to the front in the event major gossip is about to ensue. As if.

“I think she was seeing some guy.” Melissa shakes her head as if the entire incident were unfortunate.

A guy? As in an affair? Oh, this is getting good.

“Who was he?” Mia probes.

Yeah, right. Like Melissa is really going to know the dirty deets.

Melissa shrugs. “Some dude named, Nathan.”

“That was my dad’s name.” Mia leans back in her seat and sighs as if point A didn’t just magically connect to point B.

“Cool.” Melissa replaces her scarf, equally unimpressed—as if the final revelation didn’t have a thing to do with my father.

Dad would never cheat on Mom, but I bet every ounce of my Celestra blood that he and Stella were in on something. Wait, Stella must have been a Count, right? This doesn’t make sense.

Dad and Stella died the very same day in the same horrific way…their spouses have married. It’s all a little too coincidental for my liking.

But then again there are no coincidences, are there. I’m guessing my least favorite Fem was extra busy that day. But why would he kill a Count?

Curious.  

***

Paragon Presbyterian is unusually jam-packed.

The bitch squad, sans Em, sits one pew up ahead, and I keep getting distracted by the dark force field of Chloe’s hair. God, I hate her. Is that emotion even allowed in a place like this?

Gage and Logan keep taking turns accidentally picking up my hand and dropping it. I’m beginning to think maybe we really are entering into an open relationship. I won’t deny it. A part of me wants to. And, of course, Marshall sits right up front like a good little steward. He’s secured for himself the best seat in the house, completely confident in both his heavenly and earthly standing where I’m concerned. And if those perverse visions he showed me are correct, then he very much has the right to feel that way.

Everyone rises to greet their neighbors, and I’m quick to shake both Logan and Gage’s hands. Ellis high fives me with Giselle by his side. Lex and Michelle all but stab my eyes out with their stilettos, but Chloe, my favorite nemesis extends me a limb. It’s her left hand,
my
hand to be precise, so I offer her my Chloe arm, and we exchange the awkward shake.

Nobody humiliates me, Skyla
. Chloe’s eyes implode into fireballs of revenge.

I did
. I give a little smile.

I pluck my hand free and take a seat. But Chloe lingers with a dangerous gaze that lets me know there was a line in the sand, and I crossed it so proficiently there is no turning back.

Logan picks up my hand, low behind my thigh, and Gage eyes us dismissively as if he expected nothing less.

What was that about?
Logan’s brows twitch with concern.

She congratulated me on making her look like an idiot. She highly encouraged me to do it again.

Excellent.
Logan frowns.
And the truth?

She said nobody humiliates her.
I give a tiny remorseful smile.

You should thank her
. Logan gives a slight nod.

For what?

For exposing her weakness.

If humiliating Chloe is her weakness, how can I use it against her?

Walk her to the brink of humiliation then save the day
. Logan rubs his thumb along my palm as if to cheer me on.

Who in the hell knows dirt on Chloe? And if they did, why would they want to share it with me?

Giselle leans into Ellis with those gigantic doe eyes like she’s in love, and I hold my breath.

Crap. Giselle is falling for Ellis. But, on the bright side, she’s still holding Emerson’s brain hostage. I’m not sure if whatever Emerson was privy to was cringe worthy, but I’m betting there’s a Fem who sports a double D boulder holder that can help me find out.

Chloe turns around and pins me with a look.

The hint of a smile hedges on my lips.

Chloe Bishop is going to die of humiliation.

I’m going to make sure of it myself. 

***

It always seems like when you’re in a real hurry to get somewhere, you meet up with congested traffic, or the weather pulls out all the punches, or the roads stretch before you like a never-ending highway to hell. In my case, it’s all of the above.

I convinced Ellis to take Giselle over to Demetri’s. I think it’s high time we cash in on that hot stone massage of his twisted niece’s.

Logan insisted on coming with me, and Gage seemed OK with the idea, so I didn’t fight it.

We pull in behind Ellis’s monster truck and make a mad dash for the palatial parasite palace as the rain drives over us in sheets.

Logan pulls me away from the shelter of Demetri’s entry with a dirty smile.

“What are you doing? We’re getting soaked!” I hold out my hands, shrieking with laugher.

“I wanted to kiss you in the rain.” His horizontal dimple inverts. “Every great love story has a kiss in the rain.”

Logan. His amazingly bright light shines through on this dismal afternoon. It’s as if Paragon were already grieving him. The sky had covered its face in ashes while the clouds wept bitter tears in the wake of his passing.

“Well?” I shout up over the noise. “Are you just going to stand there and watch me drown, or are you going to kiss me?” He has my heart pitter-pattering out of control at the thought of him loving me in the rain.

Logan steps in and secures his hands firmly over my hips. He crashes our lips together, and an entire torrent of emotion erupts between us. His tongue lashes over mine, strong and determined, as if it I had become a life raft, and Logan were so desperately trying to hold on. This was a kiss for the record books, the book of wars, the book of life—
Guinness
. Logan is loving me, wholly, completely, with a touch of impassioned violence that only seems to spur me on. I want Logan to kiss me this way over every square inch of my body in a night of delicious sin that involves hours on end of doing just this. The sky growls and sizzles, but it doesn’t stop our affections. The deluge of rain continues its pellet-like assault. Logan electrifies me in ways that nothing else ever could. To think that he might be stripped off the planet at any given moment is unimaginable, unfathomable. Certainly my mother wouldn’t be that cruel. In a way, she was the one who fell in love with him first.

Logan picks me up and carries me toward the entry, his lips tenderly disconnecting from mine.

“That was incredible!” I shout up over the storm. “I definitely think that should be our thing.” I give a coy smile. “You know, every time it rains on Paragon, we replicate the effort.”

“It rains seven days a week.”

“My point exactly.”

He flashes his million-dollar smile, and my stomach bottoms out. Logan has a way of making me feel like I’m on a roller coaster. Most of the time it’s thrilling, but every now and again we take an unexpected turn, and I’m not sure what the outcome will be.   

Demetri swings open the door, and Logan whisks me inside.

“Skyla, you’ve brought a guest.” Demetri presses the words through his perennial smile. “If you don’t mind.” He points over to the two of us and creates a circle with his finger.

A rush of warm air swirls around us like a mini tornado, drying Logan and I off quite proficiently.

“That was quite a show you two put on out there.” He joins the pads of his fingers together. “I would have hosed you down, but not even the heavens seemed capable of extinguishing your flame. Young love, what a spectacular sight to behold.”

“Oh, please. You know damn well he’s in a treble.” I land on my feet and scowl at the beast who stole my mother’s husband and ridiculously enough, her
heart
.

Demetri bears into his grimace. “Yes, well, the treble is your mother’s doing.”

A stone settles in my throat.

Crap. He’s so right.

Demetri leads us to a room on the second floor. Personally, I abhor the second floor, no good has ever come of this place especially since I’ve discovered the Fem cranial museum with twisted artifacts that can both amplify my fears and bring them all to life.

“In here.” Demetri opens a rather benign looking door, and, sure enough, Giselle is already sprawled out on a massage table.

“Nice,” I say as I take in the seemingly innocent scene. Isis levitates her breasts over Giselle while covering her body with what looks to be a colorful rock collection.

The heavy scent of lavender permeates the air as a fogbank hisses out of an oversized bong.

Ellis sits in a chair by the window with his eyes firmly planted over Isis.

“I think she’s hypnotized him,” I whisper to Logan.

“Nah, he always get that dumb look on his face when there’s a pair of—” Logan wisely pauses to consider his words—“a well-endowed woman in the room.”

“Mr. Oliver?” Demetri tips his nefarious head in Logan’s direction. “Perhaps while Skyla keeps watch over the situation, you might like to defer to the viewing room for a moment. I hear there’s an exciting film playing this very hour. Something of personal interest to you in particular.”

Logan shoots him the stink eye.

“Will you be OK up here?” He softens into me.

“I’ve got Ellis.” I make a face because we both know it will be me protecting him.

“I’ll go check out the demented flick and be right back.”

Demetri ushers him out of the room and closes the door behind them.

Ellis never wavers. It’s as if he has no clue I’m even here.

“Anything working?” I whisper to Giselle.

“Oh, yes. I’ve had this horrid kink in my neck since Halloween, and she’s completely healed it.”

“It wasn’t me.” Isis assures us of her uselessness. “It’s the mixture of minerals and healing salts. It’s remarkable what God put in the earth to work on a human’s behalf.” Her mouth opens slightly as if she were suddenly aware of her gaff.

“That’s OK,” I assure. “You’re among other non-humans.” Partial humans to be exact, but no use in strangling her brain cell with this information. “Make her remember something for Pete’s sake. If she wanted a massage, there’s a yellow lab who would have totally walked all over her back for a handful of kibble.”

“Charlie would do that?” Giselle perks to the idea.

“Only on days of the week that end in ‘Y.’”

Isis ignores my plea and opens a drawer full of bright purple and blue stones that look like they’d make a fine addition to any pool table. She starts aligning them over Giselle’s spine, and Giselle lets out a cry.

“You’re hurting her!” I go to take one off and burn the hell out of my fingers.

“Oh no, Skyla,” Giselle moans. “This feels fantastic.” She proceeds to moan in an altogether climactic manner while Isis rolls the firebrands over her back. Swear to God, Ellis looks as if he’s about to explode in a fit of pleasure himself.

Thank God Logan is nowhere near the breasty vicinity.

Another minute drags by of listening to Giselle moan at the top of her lungs until her neck snaps back in pleasure, and she collapses over the table.

“There.” Isis gives one final spin to the sexual billiard game taking place on Giselle’s back, inciting her to cry out in pleasure one more time.

“That’s it,” I snap, hoisting Giselle to an upright position. The balls drop to the floor like bricks, and one knocks Ellis on the shin—not that I’m sorry. I’ll have a lot to explain to the Olivers should Giselle start a sparkling dinner conversation regarding how exhilarating it is to have someone get their rocks off on you.

“Do you remember anything?” I look into Giselle’s blue eyes as her dimples tremble in turn.

“Not that I’m aware of.” Giselle shrugs almost apologetically.

“What would she like to remember?” Dr. Isis Edinger, the nitwit, has the nerve to ask.

“Something humiliating about Chloe. We just don’t know what.” I spit it out as rude as possible in the event she has another genius question she’d like to lob our way.

Isis places her hand over Giselle’s forehead and stares intently into her eyes.

“Emerson Kragger is dead,” she announces. “And she’s taken all of her memories with her.”

“That can’t be possible,” I whimper. Chloe is going to die soon, and she’ll never surrender that pendant. I should have read the writing on the wall, long ago. Chloe gets what Chloe wants. Her kind of evil rarely yields to punishment on this planet.

Isis points her finger-like nipples in my direction. “Every last reflection Emerson had of her life has vanished, right along with her soul. I suggest you look elsewhere for your dirt on Chloe.”

“Like?” I hold my breath in the event a brilliant idea defecates from her brain.

“Like, ask Chloe, silly.” She picks up one of the molten stones, a large turquoise piece that looks suspiciously like a miniature version of the planet, and buries it in her cleavage. Both Isis and Ellis let out a collective sigh.

Crap.

“Come on, Giselle, let’s get out of here.”

Giselle takes Ellis by the hand, and we make a beeline downstairs.

I text Logan and let him know we’re through, that the mind tapping was more like spinal tapping, and nothing of value was achieved other than confirmation of the fact Isis is nothing more than a Fem with boobs.

Ellis and Giselle take off for his truck while I wait by the entry.

Logan finally emerges, walking at a quickened clip, his face pale with shock.

“What did you see?”

“I saw you, Skyla.” He gives an impish grin.

“Was I strangling a Fem with my bare hands?”

“No, you were—” he shakes his head. “It wasn’t interesting.

“Did you see this?” I pluck out that picture Em sketched for me and hand it to Logan.

He sighs heavily as though he weren’t shocked at all to see me in so much pain.

“This”—he flicks it with his finger—“is exactly what I saw.”