Vex

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Authors: Addison Moore

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Vex

Celestra Series Book 5

 

by Addison Moore

http://addisonmoorewrites.blogspot.com/

Other books by Addison Moore;

Ethereal (Celestra Series Book 1)

Tremble (Celestra Series Book 2)

Burn      (Celestra Series Book 3)

Wicked  (Celestra Series Book 4)

Copyright
©
2011 by Addison Moore

 

 

 

This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.

 

 

Table of Contents

Preface

Chapter One—Betrayed

Chapter Two—The Stars in the Sky
 

Chapter Three—Spooktacular

Chapter Four—Overtime

Chapter Five—Gage

Chapter Six—All is Not Calm

Chapter Seven—The Gift of Life
 

Chapter Eight—Welcome Home

Chapter Nine—Hello Again

Chapter Ten—Body    
 

Chapter Eleven—Fear Everyone

Chapter Twelve—I’m Gonna Kiss You All Over

Chapter Thirteen—Love Like This

Chapter Fourteen—Nevermore

Chapter Fifteen—Get Away

Chapter Sixteen—Needle in a Haystack

Chapter Seventeen—All of My Love

Chapter Eighteen—Devine Appointment

Chapter Nineteen—It’s a Dead Man’s Party

Chapter Twenty—I Ain’t Missing You

Chapter Twenty-One—Cuts Like a Knife

Chapter Twenty-Two—The Feast

Chapter Twenty-Three—It’s On

Chapter Twenty-Four—Let It Snow

Chapter Twenty-Five—The Lodge

Chapter Twenty-Six—Sleeping Arrangements

Chapter Twenty-Seven—Body Rock

Chapter Twenty-Eight—The Grand Design

Chapter Twenty-Nine—All over Me

Chapter Thirty—The Big Chill

Chapter Thirty-One—Dressed to Kill

Chapter Thirty-Two—A Grave Situation

Chapter Thirty-Three—You’re Dead to Me

Chapter Thirty-Four—The Deep End of the Night

Chapter Thirty-Five—Lead Me

Chapter Thirty-Six—Mother

Chapter Thirty-Seven—The World is Waiting

Chapter Thirty-Eight—What is Love

Chapter Thirty-Nine—Caveat Emptor

Chapter Forty—Michelle on Top

Chapter Forty-One—Paragon in Springtime

Chapter Forty-Two—Count the Ways You Love Me

Chapter Forty-Three—A Moment Like This

Chapter Forty-Four—The Talk

Chapter Forty-Five—Baseball, America’s Favorite Pastime

Chapter Forty-Six—Stick the Dismount

Chapter Forty-Seven—Next to You

Chapter Forty-Eight—Downtown

Chapter Forty-Nine—Tiaras and Caskets
   

Chapter Fifty—Some Girls Don’t

Chapter Fifty-One—Covenant

Chapter Fifty-Two—Don’t Let the Door Hit You

Chapter Fifty-Three—Justice for All

Chapter Fifty-Four—The Powers That Be

Chapter Fifty-Five—In a Bind

Chapter Fifty-Six—Terms of Agreement

Chapter Fifty-Seven—Dinner Guests

Chapter Fifty-Eight—Speak No Evil

Chapter Fifty-Nine—Gage in a Cage

Chapter Sixty—Hello, my name Is…

Chapter Sixty-One—Give It Up

Chapter Sixty-Two—Possession

Chapter Sixty-Three—Truth Be Told

Chapter Sixty-Four—The Rescue

Chapter Sixty-Five—Play with Me, Stay with Me

Chapter Sixty-Six—Beat on the Brat

Chapter Sixty-Seven—Toxic

Chapter Sixty-Eight—Punishment

Chapter Sixty-Nine—Dress to Impress

Chapter Seventy—Strychnine Surprise

Chapter Seventy-One—Chain of Fools

Chapter Seventy-Two—Winter Formal

Chapter Seventy-Three—Kiss Off

Chapter Seventy-Four—Trouble in the Treble

Chapter Seventy-Five—The Switch

Chapter Seventy-Six—Mystery Kiss

Chapter Seventy-Seven—The Time Traveler’s Girlfriend

 

 

 

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it

wore.

“though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said,

“art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the

Nightly shore—Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s

Plutonian shore!”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

                                    THE RAVEN

                                   
Edgar Allan Poe

 

Preface

The path of destiny pulls you forward. It exhumes you from a state of being and propels you towards the juncture you were created for. A new frontier that you are forced to tread with a cross on your back, heavy as a boulder. When you fall to your knees at the hands of your betrayer, you can only hope to find the one sent to carry your burden— shoulder the journey towards your final punishment.

Sometimes duplicity and treason are markers of the enemy, and sometimes, the failed intention of a masterful ally. But, nevertheless, as they burden you with a vexing brand of love, they become nothing more than the kiss of Judas, pressing a crown of thorns into your flesh. Seemingly without reason—vastly disappointing.

Although I am submerged in violent waters, I will rise above. My enemies, my friends, are incapable of derailing me from destiny’s design. So, I press forward—move—rely on the hope of the future—create the possible out of the impossible as I weave into life’s grand tapestry.

I believe in the things that wait for me—my enemies, my friends—most of all love.

It is the finish line I hunger for, the promise of love in all of its glory.

I can endure all things in the holy name of love.

And I will. 

 

Chapter One

Betrayed

Logan tips his hand above his shoulder, as Demetri lays a dagger on his palm. He grips the handle, never breaking our gaze, and gives a light swing in my direction.

“I’ll need you to lie down for me.” Logan’s lips curve into the slightest impression of a smile. “Welcome to the sacrifice, Skyla,” Logan gleams under the newfound evil glaze that coats him from the inside. A gentle pewter blade lies in his hand and points accusingly in my direction.

The sky boils with blackened clouds, a flash of lightning illuminates the circle of hooded creatures. They hover around a large granite stone that sits pale and thirsty in a dead clearing. A dark blotch in the center of the outstretched rock testifies that it desires to quench itself with my blood.

 A tall man with boxy shoulders steps forward, his features are hardly discernable from the shadows endowed by his cape. Demetri. I want to see the coward’s face.

I take a bold step towards him and snatch off his hood.

A man with dark olive skin, hooked nose, eyes like half moons stare back at me. He gives a dazzling smile that expels a volume of light as his black hair glints from the barely-there moon.

“So nice to meet you,” he growls.

His eyes close part way as though he were trying to seduce me, and I reciprocate with a hard slap across his smug expression.

A sharp collective gasp emits from the crowd.

I make eye contact with each of the Counts gathered around the unnaturally flat stone. I want them to know I see them—that I’m documenting their faces, whether I recognize them or not. 

Demetri steps closer. Logan tries to insert himself between us, but Demetri raises a gloved hand, and Logan freezes like a well-trained dog.

“Are you going to kill me like you killed my father?” I say it loud enough for all to hear.

“I’m not quite sure.” His dark eyes shoot over to Logan. “You choose this for the blood bond?”

“I do.”

I don’t recognize Logan’s voice anymore. Everything about him is foreign to me. I can’t look at him, or I might break—break him—kill him by way of gouging out his throat like I did Holden Kragger.

“Gather,” Demetri instructs, the mass of humanity disperses around the stone, and Brielle lands at my side.

“I had a goat behind the quarry,” she says to Logan as though I weren’t even present. She picks up my hand and flashes it over to him. “Cut here,” her finger draws a line up my forearm.

“Wrong arm,” Logan says, gently lifting the other. “That one belonged to Chloe.”

I take my hands back and shoot a look of vengeance at the two of them.

“I will kill both of you if you so much as touch me again,” I seethe.

“Sorry.” Brielle’s fingers fly to her lips as she jumps back in line next to Chloe.

Logan snatches up my hand, low by his thigh, imprisoning my fingers with a tight squeeze.

Forgive me, Skyla.

“I will never forgive you!”

A slow peal of thunder drums up above. A light drizzle sets in. Demetri steps before me, pulls on his hood with one swift tug.

An unseasonably warm breeze picks up, ushering in a strange fog with the slightest tint of blue. It coats the inside of my mouth, my nose, thick as oil.

“Lie down.” Demetri adjusts his long leather gloves, doesn’t bother to look up when he says it.

I don’t move. There is no way in hell I’m going to comply. I’ll have to kill them all if I want to get away. And I’ll have to start with Logan.

“Take her,” he says.

Pierce Kragger appears like an apparition. He picks me up so quick—I’m stunned by the velocity.

How Logan can stand by and supervise as Pierce touches me, after everything he’s done, leaves me slacked jawed—affirms the fact that he has evil coursing through his veins.

I try to fight him, but Pierce lays me flat on the stone, dead center, and hops off. My bones feel as though they’re made of lead—heavy and unmovable, and for a moment I wonder if I’ve been drugged. A strong wind picks up, much cooler than the tropical fog that floats in our midst. Something quivers beneath me. The stone ignites and hums like a motor. It pulls me in, suctions me to the cool granite surface like it were trying to drink me down—absorb me. My arms and legs fan out as though I were about to make a snow angel. I’m defenseless to its bionic pull as it contorts my body into a prime position for this blood lust sacrifice.

I feel a tug at the bottom of my clothes. Brielle adjusts my dress as though she were a bridesmaid at my wedding. It’s the white dress Marshall had me wear while he pretended to hunt me down with arrows in lieu of turning me over to the Counts. Ironic since I landed right in their hands no thanks to Logan—special delivery from the first boy I ever truly loved. Unless, of course, this is where Marshall wanted me all along.

Chloe eyes me as the circle of bodies glide forward. They walk in a tight circumference around the stone altar. She wears the protective pendant around her neck proud as a peacock—gives me the finger while fondling it in front of me. The cloaks rotate in a clockwise pattern. I try not to look at them, but Nat garners my attention. Her tight curls peer out from her hood like rusted springs. She cuts a look of death, offers a black smile as she brushes against Pierce ever so slightly with her fingertips.

A figure stops in front of me, the rest of the Counts move around him. I don’t have to look to know it’s Logan. I can tell by the gleam of the blade, feel the psychotic energy emanating from him that he tries to pass off as love. His arms lie folded across his chest as though he were dead in a casket, and suddenly I wish he were.

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