Tremble (22 page)

“Not without Gage.”

“Yes, without Gage.” El is scoops me up in his arms and traverses the series of bodies, running straight through the house and towards the front door.

“Skyla?” My dad cal s chasing after us.

“He’s going to kil you.” I squirm out of El is’ arms. He snatches my hand, and we race to the end of the front lawn.

A brigade of police cars and fire trucks fil the streets.

“They’re going to think we slaughtered those Fems!” I panic.

El is shakes his head and points over towards the front door.

A police officer is talking to my father. Dad places a long bloodied kitchen knife down and places his hands up against the wal .

“They’re arresting my dad.” An air of disbelief cripples me.

A thick fog fal s around us. It glows a subtle shade of blue.

“What’s happening?”

“We’re changing…”

“Changing what?”

“Dimensional planes.”

“What does that mean?” I’m not sure I want to know.

“It means, it’s on, and we need to get out of Dodge right the hel now.”

“What’s on?”

The ground trembles. A shadow fal s over us thick as night. A bear-like Fem, tal as the house stomps in our direction.

Everything in me pulsates. I breathe in the congealed vapors that glaze my lungs like paste.

Its black eyes glisten. The red hole of its mouth yawns out a howl and his claw swipes down and cuts through El is’ midsection in one easy swipe.

“You’re bleeding,” I say stupidly.

I know that I should take El is and leave—never come back—beg the Oliver family to forgive me for losing Gage, but don’t. Instead I gather my strength and scream out the one name I never wanted to use.

“Marshall!”

With spirited precision he appears, clean, resplendent, radiating a light al his own. He reaches down into the fog and plucks one of the corpses from the yard.

“This is the best you can do?” He yel s at it as though it could hear him. He pushes violently into the bear-like Fem, “Skyla, are you afraid of dead bodies? Over sized bears?”

“No.” Actual y that’s not true, but a stubborn part of me refuses to say otherwise. I feel blindly for El is and grab onto his fingers.

“Useless.” He slams the body back to the ground. “You play on fears. She’s looking into resurrections, and you think she’l cower from a little rotting flesh?”

It takes a moment for me to figure out he’s schooling the Fems on how best to frighten me.

“Where are your take downs? Body counts? Have you forgotten you have the authority to damage human flesh?” He swipes his hand through the air, and the giant bear-like Fem disappears.

“I thought you were on my side,” I yel .

“Until you choose me, I’m neither for you or against you.”

“I won’t make a good wife if I’m dead.” I pan the area. “Where’s Gage?”

He points just beyond the house. Right there in the ethereal plane, a meadow of fog and shadows, Gage is wrestling with a muscular lion-looking creature—he’s stretching its face with his hand, clasping at his throat.

“It’s a battle to the death. Entertaining as hel . We’re taking wagers. You want to guess who’l win?” Marshal asks.

I walk over stunned. My footsteps move through the fog creating a series of hol ow clicks.

“We shouldn’t real y be messing with al this crap,” El is groans.

“Get in there and help him,” I say.

“I don’t think I…I don’t feel like…”

I don’t wait for El is to stammer through his laundry list of excuses. I move forward until the ground quakes beneath my feet from their tumbling. The air becomes alive with their fearful grunting.

It’s not a lion at al . It’s a half beast, just like the panthers from the backyard—something strangely human about it.

“Back up,” Gage growls.

I don’t see his mouth move when he says it. I hadn’t realized he knew I was watching.

Claws as long as butcher knives slice through his chest. Four glossy red ribbons bloom across his crisp white t-shirt. Gage cries out and releases his grasp on the beast’s throat. Another gash appears on his thigh, slices through his jeans easy as butter.

“I’l do it.” It comes out feeble. “Marshal …” I can’t stand here and watch as Gage gets dissected.

I turn to see my father driving off in the back of a police car, just beyond the fog. I know they’l never make it to the station, or if they do, he’l burn later, somehow. “I choose you.” I look up, but it’s not Marshal standing there behind me, or El is.

“Logan!” I wrap my arms around his waist at Mach five.

“Stay back.” He drops a kiss on the top of my head and gently pul s away.

Logan looks different, noble—older.

He strides over to the lion and whips it off Gage by the tail. He helps a bloodied and bruised Gage back up onto his feet.

The lion creature surges. It pounces on Logan’s back and lands him flat on the ground. In a fit of wrestling and snarling, and with Gage trying to pluck the beast off of him, Logan manages to get a firm grip on its mane and gives a series of violent yanks until the neck of the lion snaps and its mouth is ful y facing the wrong side of its body.

Gage gives Logan a hand upright.

It’s lifeless. The once ferocious creature, the size of a car, lays motionless with its broken body expel ing a steady trickle of blood.

Logan walks over to it. I’m afraid the beast wil animate and clamp its razor-like teeth into his leg, so I clutch onto El is as though that has the power to stop anything.

Almost as an afterthought Logan reaches down and claws a line down the center of the lion’s chest. The skin parts in two, creating a bright red seam down its chest. He stretches back the flesh and turns the beast over, shaking out its insides until they slosh out onto the velum-like floor.

Intestines—long, coiled grey tubing, an enlarged liver, a bloated pink bag, gal ons of blood, and yel ow glimmering fat al slink out with a lazy swoosh.

Logan and Gage walk over to us, shoulders back, their gaze straight on. Logan clasps my left hand and Gage my right. Logan walks right through El is, and I feel myself fal ing.

Chapter Fifty-One

Sublime

I’m not on my bed, but the sweet scent of cedars assures me I’m somewhere safely on Paragon. It’s cold and dark and the fog gently lifts revealing Gage bent over nursing his wounds.

“You’re hurt.” I place my hand over his stomach. The moonlight reveals a thick coat of dark liquid, warm and sticky. I think I’m going to be sick.

“I better get you home.” A voice booms over my shoulder. Logan steps in and places Gage’s arm around his shoulder. “You want to come?”

He looks at me with those perfect amber eyes. They glimmer in this light and give him an otherworldly glow. It’s hard to tel under the cover of night, but he looks like his younger self again.

“I’l get a ride with El is. Just get him help,” I say rubbing the back of my hand soft against Gage’s cheek.

Gage gives the impression of a smile, and they disappear.

“Let’s get out of here.” El is hops into his truck. It takes a minute to register we’re standing in the student parking lot of West—strange, but not half as strange as the last twenty-four hours, or two years combined have been.

I get in, stil nursing my badly wounded knee. We drive for a good long while without saying a word.

“So, what’s up with that treble thing?” I’m too tired to piece that mystery together myself.

“It’s a loop that repeats until I dismiss it.”

“It’s not your typical treble, is it?” I keep thinking of that treble with Ezrina. I was back in her underground mausoleum within the hour.

Something’s not right.

“I may have the knowledge to trip-set a certain scenario to my advantage, but I can’t do it without you.”

“Figures.” I’m not complaining. I think next time we’re there I’l spend less time disfiguring Carly’s ride and more time in the forest chasing after Chloe and Michel e. I’m dying to know what has Michel e out of her mind with fear and what she was doing al alone.

He glides into the bottom of my driveway.

“Are you going to try to kil me?” I ask opening the door an inch. An icy breeze snakes its way inside inspiring a mean shiver to run through me.

“Maybe.” He huffs a tired laugh and shakes his head. “No. Are you going to try to kil me?”

My stomach cinches as I remember Marshal ’s words. I don’t care if he does have the gift of knowing, I’m never going to kil El is.

“No.”

He holds up his fist and I bump into it with mine.

“See you tomorrow,” he says flinching as he grabs his abdomen.

“See you tomorrow.”

***

Gage picks me up in the morning.

“I can’t believe you’re driving,” I say, gingerly climbing into his truck.

He lifts his shirt just enough, exposing a thick band of gauze circling his abdomen.

“I survived.” He gives a sly grin.

“You wrestled a lion for like two years. You’ve official y achieved superhero status.”

“Right.” He pul s his cheek up on one side.

It hurts to see Gage doubtful of the things I say, always second guessing our relationship—holding Logan up like some sort of plumb line.

I lean in and kiss him. A sweet, joyful feeling laced with sorrow spears through me. He pul s back and pierces through me with those deep soulful eyes.

“I have something for you.” Original y I was going to read it to him, but the giant mass forming in my throat won’t let me, so I hand it over.

He reads the poem, two or three times.

A genuine smile spreads across his face. Something inside him blooms.

“It’s nice to be back.” He leans over and presses his lips against mine.

***

That night I wait to see Logan.

“Skyla?” My mother cal s from the other side of my bedroom door.

It’s after nine, and I have to slide the dresser back to let her in. I want to make it quick because Logan’s on his way up to the butterfly room.

“Yeah?” I leave the lights off and manage to squint into the light for effect.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were sleeping. Some boy named El is dropped this off for you.” She hands over a purple gift-wrapped box. “He says it’s a thank you. What did you do?”

I’m speechless. I gingerly take the rectangular shaped box from her. It’s surprisingly heavy.

“I’m helping him out….at school.”

“Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Later,” I say.

“I get it.” She bats her hands at me. “You’re not changing boyfriends again, are you?”

“No. I’m keeping Gage.” And Logan.

“Al right. Night,” she says, moving down the hal .

I close the door and careful y slide back the dresser.

I finger the lavender satin ribbon. I’m hoping it’s what I think it is.

***

Logan arrives and helps me up as I attempt to climb into the butterfly room with my not-so-great leg. In this good light I can see his face. His flawless skin shimmers, his sandy hair glows like the sun. He’s back to the way he should be, youthful and flawless.

“El is dropped this off,” I say, sitting Indian style across from him.

We stare down at the package with wonder, not breathing as though it holds the secret to a future we could only hope to have.

I pul off the ribbon and peel back the paper until al that’s left is a sturdy silver box. I hedge my fingers around the lid. Just as I’m about to lift it off, Logan presses his hand down softly against it.

He looks at me with a slightly confused expression on his face as though he were feeling both secure and vulnerable.

“I need you to know something,” he starts.

“Before you go on,” I press my hand in the air, “I want to say thank you for risking your life and for coming back. You saved Gage, and you saved me.” I shrug. “El is too.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“So does this mean you can time travel?”

“Anyplace in particular you want to go?” He gives a seductive smile.

“I guess that’s a yes.” I bite down on my lip. I’d like to go back and change the fact I made my father look like a raging lunatic who murdered three vagrants just hours before he dies in a fiery car crash on the way to the precinct, but I shake the thought away. I don’t think I’l ever be able to rectify that.

He picks up both my hands without breaking his gaze. His cheek pul s to the side. I’m sorry about your dad.

I give a tiny nod.

I guess I can’t change things like I thought I could, I say.

What about Marshall? He can bring back your father if you choose him. Logan studies my face with a steady look of benevolence.

“I don’t want Marshal . Not now not ever. I don’t think my dad would want that for me either.”

“Skyla.” His ears peak back and turn pink at the tips. A lengthy pause ensues. “I’ve never had anybody in my life that I care so much about. I have my aunt and uncle and Gage, yet I’ve never ful y felt a part of their family. But with you I feel whole, like we belong. Now that I have you, I’l do anything for you. Most of al , I just want to keep you safe, and if it means you being with Gage for now, then so be it.” He clenches his jaw and gives a hard blink. “Sorry I’m getting emotional, I never real y do. It’s not like me. You do good things to me, Skyla.” He gives a careful smile. “I love you.”

A breath gets caught in my throat. Logan Oliver loves me. I thought I could feel it, but now I know. He leans in and kisses me—deep expressive kisses that match his powerful amazing words.

“I love you, too.” Gage’s face pops up uninvited in the back of my mind and my stomach turns. I try to shoo it away quick as it came, but I feel more confused than ever.

He taps the box. I stare down at the silver lid one more time.

“This better not be something stupid like a hot pink hammer to wreck Carly’s car in style,” I say.

“It was you! I’m impressed with your determination.” Logan’s face explodes in a wicked grin.

“It’s al that love I have for you. I can’t contain it.” I pick my shoulders up before plucking the lid off the box. There’s a note on top.

Need this back in the morning.

Beneath it lays a leather bound book embossed with the effigy of an angel with a sword in his hand. I pluck it out and scoot in next to Logan.