Ethereal Knights (21 page)

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Authors: Addison Moore

BOOK: Ethereal Knights
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“We’ve fought before.” I’ve never had my balls shoved so far up my throat as I have as of late, but that’s another story.

“Over Chloe?”

I try to laugh it off, but frown instead. Oddly, we did fight because of Chloe, but definitely not over her. It had everything to do with the fact that I knew she was dicking him around, in the most literal sense, and he didn’t care to believe me. I’m always right, and that seems to piss Logan off the most. It should, since it’s me that Skyla’s going to be with in the end.  

“Why does Michelle have Chloe’s diary, anyway?” Skyla glances past my shoulder before meeting my gaze.

“She says her mother gave her a box of Chloe’s things. She found it.”

“I bet she read it cover to cover.”

“You’d think.” Michelle and Chloe were tight. She lived half of those things right along with her.

“So, were you and Chloe pretty close?”

“We went out a few times.” I tap my knuckles over the wire rack.

Why in the hell would I say that? To make her jealous? To up my value because another girl might have wanted me? Skyla is the only girl I need—
want
, and jealousy doesn’t fit into the equation of any relationship.

A loud pop goes off in the kitchen, and the scent of burnt toast explodes in the air. I rush over and try to toss the lid on the fryer just as a blowtorch shoots out of it and ignites the ceiling with flames.

“Skyla!”

Logan calls out her name as I try to douse the blaze with a discarded rag.

“Everybody out.” Logan barks as bodies stream for the exit. 

I glance up in time to see Skyla bump into the grease bucket and knock it over.

“Get out
now
!” I shout, trying to push her out of the way as a wall of fire ignites between us. Skyla lands in a perfect tower of flames that shoot toward the ceiling with an unnatural ferocity. Fire dances around her in a perfect circle, taunting both Logan and me because we can’t reach her.

“Help!” She coughs it out.

Smoke fills the kitchen, dense and white like the murderous twin of the afternoon fog.

A piercing noise drills through the air as Logan forces down the flames with a hose, extinguishing them into a sea of grey clouds. I snatch a fire extinguisher off the floor and spray the vicinity around Skyla, ignoring the fact my back just combusted. Logan whisks her out the door, and I stagger through the white haze, trying to find the exit. 

I hold my breath until it feels like my lungs are about to explode before I finally make it outside.

Logan holds Skyla by the dirt lot and I speed on over.

“You’re okay,” he tells her, landing a kiss over the top of her head

“Logan!” She buries herself in his neck. “What just happened?”

“I don’t know.” He looks up at me. “We’ve never had anything like that happen before.”

“Skyla.” I pant as I land beside them, my arms and clothes covered with soot. “You okay?”

Logan lands her on her feet as billows of smoke escape from the bowling alley.

“I’m fine.” She rubs her arms and shivers. 

The fire department screams its way over. The red spasms of light give the canopy of clouds a blushed appearance.

“I checked the temp, and the oil was fine.” I say it dazed. “Do you think?” I look over at Logan, not wanting to finish the thought.

“I know.” Logan gives a slight nod, confirming my theory.

We stare at one another without saying another word, the implications too dangerous to mold into complete sentences.

“What?” Skyla shrills over the chaos. “This involves me. I was in that fire.”

I glance up at her. She’s going to know the truth at some point, and I want to be the person who she can rely on to deliver, so I give it. “Fire is the only sure way to kill a Celestra.” It felt like I held a loaded gun to her and voluntarily pulled the trigger.

“Fire?” Her expression darkens. Logan said her dad died in a fire, and I know she’s connecting the painful dots. 

Brielle barrels over and lunges into Skyla. “I can’t believe you survived! They made us run out the back. I had no idea you guys were standing out here. The entire kitchen is destroyed.”

“I’m sorry,” Skyla whispers to Logan.

She thinks that fire was personally directed at her.

And most likely she’s right. 

 

 

16

 

Logan

 

Butterfly Kisses

 

 

The next afternoon, I get the pleasure of eating up hours of my time with an insurance assessor. He’s a lanky man with what appears to be a general disinterest in life, and I follow him around like a lost puppy as he hems and haws over what the company is and isn’t responsible for, going as far as to elude if I pay him in free yearly bowling passes, he could throw in high-end replacements.

Skyla calls and says something about a stack of hundred dollar bills, old newspaper clippings, and a haunted house equipped with its own sweaty poltergeist, so I don’t waste any time. I saddle Gage with the freeloading insurance agent and tell him to give him the whole fucking place as long as he’s out of my way by the time I get back.

“Get a small bottle or plastic bag and collect some of the moisture.” I instruct her as I race over in the rain.

“You don’t get it,” she moans, exasperated. “The clippings were just weird. He’s psycho! I’m living with a lunatic.”

“I agree with you.” Her stepfather very much fits the mold. “The clippings are strange. But Skyla, listen to me—go right now and find something to capture that moisture. I’ll give it to my uncle, and he’ll analyze it.”

“Analyze it? It’s water.”

“It may be something more than that.”

“Like ghost water?”

I close my eyes for a moment and veer into oncoming traffic. The blare of a horn goes off, and I’m quick to right myself into the proper lane.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers.

“You did nothing wrong. Listen, I’m coming over.”

“You can’t come over. My parents will kill me.”

I drive through the tunnel of trees, and the connection cuts out.

Doesn’t matter.

She couldn’t stop me, anyway.

 

***

 

I park low on the street and make my over to the backyard. I catch a glimpse of Skyla at the kitchen sink, so I head to the back door and give a brief wave.

Her whole person seizes at the sight of me.

“You know I’m afraid to look out this door,” she hisses as she lets me in. A smile breaks loose on her face, and I take the opportunity to quell her with a kiss.

Skyla takes me by the hand and leads me upstairs. It looks normal enough, nothing seems out of its element, but I produce a glass vial from my pocket just in case. I happened to have an extra in my glove compartment from the night I did the blood draw, in the event she launched the first one at me for suggesting it.

“You get a bulk discount on those?”

“With you around, I might have to.” I push out a grin.

Skyla lets me know me that her parents should be back any minute before leading me straight into their closet. She flicks on the lights and points over to the corner.

A clatter emits from downstairs. “Help unload the car, please!” A voice booms from below.

Skyla jumps up like a reflex and takes off, leaving me among the coats and the shoes.

The air in the closet begins to glow with a distinct oily fog.

I carefully fill the vial with the smoky substance and get the hell out of Dodge.

 

***

 

It takes a small eternity before Skyla discovers me sitting in her closet, catching up on my vampire fiction.

“You should really consider putting a nice comfy chair in here,” I lament, stretching my legs. “It’s a great place to take your mind off things and relax.” I pitch the book over my shoulder. “Maybe a beanbag?”

“Funny.” She slides a pile of shoes to the side. “How are we going to get you out?”

“Don’t worry.” I try to withhold a smile. “I’m sure you’ll bring sustenance when needed. And we can do
this
.” I’m not one to let a Gage-free moment slip by, so I pull her in and push my lips over hers like a promise. Skyla exhales as she takes free reign of my mouth. Her tongue strokes mine with barely-there passes and begs me to press in harder, hungry for more. I pull back and take her in before things get out of control. “I want to show you something.”

“What?” She purrs, creating small circles over my chest with her nails. Skyla glances below my waist with promising immoral implications. 

“Not that, but it’s a good idea for later.” I help her to her feet. “Up there.” I nod at the secret door to the butterfly room. “You have a chair we can stand on?”

Skyla hauls in the sturdy seat from her desk, and I try to stand on it, but it glides from beneath me.

“I’ll hold it,” she says, stabilizing it by the base.

I climb up, and my feet give a quick jerk to both the left and right.

“Oops, sorry.” She moves her hands from the base to the seat.

“There might only be two of us left, Skyla. Please try not to kill me,” I tease.

“Really, are there only two of us left?” She looks up at me with the hope of procreation ripe in her eyes, and lust claws through me like a fire.

“No, but at the rate they’re killing us, we might get there soon.” I remove the false wall from the door and hold it out for her to inspect.

“It’s a façade!” She gives a little jump, and the chair swivels.

“Most things are.” I hand it to her before opening the sliding panel. “Come on.” I offer her a hand and help her climb inside.

“What is it, the attic?” Her voice sounds hollow, like she’s talking into a bottle.

“It’s”—I boost myself inside—“it’s a locked-off portion of it. Chloe didn’t know it was there until just a few months before she… discovered it by accident.” No point in drilling home the fact that Chloe is no longer with us.

“Oh.” She blinks into the idea. “Were you trapped in her bedroom and in need of a way out?”

A dry laugh huffs from my chest, but I know there were serious underpinnings layered beneath the question.

I feel for the metal chain and light up Skyla’s new world. The room illuminates in all its colorful winged-glory, and the butterflies quiver as if they were happy to greet her.

She takes a sharp breath as she soaks in the beauty, the rainbow of pastel butterflies, the bright blue ones that stand out interspersed.

“This was her getaway.” I spin in a slow circle, marveling how it all looks the same. “I was here once, and that was because she kept something I gave her here.”

“You came to check on it?” Her face pinches with hurt.

“I came to get it back.” And to open our world to new possibilities, but I leave those for her imagination while I pick up her hand.

“So you have it?”
I don’t even know what it is, but I love the fact it was something akin to the breakup collection agency more than it was a secret rendezvous.

“No, she never gave it back.” I bite down on my lip, because I know it’s coming.

“What was it?”

“A pendant that belonged to my grandmother. Chloe said she wanted to give it back. And then she went missing, and that was that.”

“I thought you said she let you in here, and she was going to give it to you?”

“I never said that.” It comes out soft, sad. “I said I’ve only been here once. It was after she was gone. Brielle took me up here when I told her Chloe had something important of mine.”

“Oh. Maybe she was wearing it—you know, when they took her.”

“She wore it for a little while, then she wanted to prove she didn’t need it. We had a fight, and I never saw her wear it again. She told Brielle she was keeping it in her diary.”

“Strange place to keep jewelry.” She eyes me with suspicion. “Maybe she got rid of it or pawned it. Do you believe her?”

“She couldn’t lie to me.” We touched each other constantly—not because we couldn’t get enough of one another, but as a litmus test for honesty. I didn’t know how to erect the great wall of silence back then. But thankfully, I do now.

I look over at Skyla mournfully. I swear I’ll let down my guard one day, and I’m not nearly as good as Gage. I wouldn’t be surprised if she were picking up on every other word.

“She could lie.”
I match his over-serious tone to a tee. It’s comical, both of us here in a paper butterfly sanctuary created by his dead ex-girlfriend, having a spat over—of all things—the virtues of his ex.

“I think I like you jealous.” I know this as a fact. A smile blooms on my face, and I can’t hide it. I’m falling in love so hard, so fast—I never want this feeling to end. I lean in, biting gently on her lower lip, and she lets out a groan that lets me know she approves. Skyla dips her fingers into my jeans. I feel her there over my skin, and it sends my stomach quivering. The blood rushes between my legs. I push myself against her thigh, begging her to wrap her hands around me, to touch me.

We drop to our knees never losing the grip our mouths have on one another. I pull her over my body and ride my hands inside her sweater, pull it off, and raise my T-shirt until our flesh feels like it’s become one.

A violent knock erupts from the door, and her mother shouts something indistinguishable.

“Just a minute!” Skyla screams the words directly into my ear and I wince in pain. “I have to go.” She jumps down into the closet so fast that I can’t argue with her.

“I’m leaving.” I cover my eyes with my arm for a minute.

Now I just need to figure out a way to hobble out of here with a hard-on the size of a bullet train. 

 

 

Gage

 

 

After work, Ellis invites me over to hang out and watch a movie in his family’s brand-new viewing room.

The fog sweeps by my feet as I cut across the street. A cloudbank has settled over the island, and my clothes are damp by the time I hit the Harrison’s front door.

“Hello?” I say, slipping the door open and letting myself in. Ellis’s parents are rarely home. They separated last year. Word on the street is the divorce will be final by Christmas. Nobody really knows what the hell his father, Morley, does for a living. His mom is conveniently an attorney.

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