Ethereal Knights Read online

  Brielle joins us as we speed over to Logan’s truck.

  “There’s no way you’ll get her in there,” she says, looking up at the second-story cab.

  Logan motions me over, and I hold the door open, blocking Brielle’s view in the process. Logan hoists her up as if she were no heavier than a bouquet of flowers and lays her across the seat before strapping her in.

  I jump into the bed of the truck and settle in as we take off.

  The window in the back is cracked open, and I can hear Skyla groan as Logan guns it out of the parking lot.

  “First sunny day in a week, and I blow it,” she says.

  “Blaming yourself for an injury is a defeatist attitude.” Logan espouses my dad’s advice as if he coined the phrase himself. Nice. I’ll have to watch what I say around him in the event he tries to pass it off as his own pearl of wisdom. “It’s time to relax and let your body heal,” he adds. Now that, I agree with.

  “Wise and true.” Skyla looks through the window at me and gives a little wave.

  Logan takes a left at the intersection, and I exhale with relief as we head toward our home instead of hers. I still can’t get used to Skyla living at the old Bishop house. I think Skyla and I need to make some new memories there to get my head out of the past once and for all.

  “Falls of Virtue?” she asks.

  “Nope.’” Logan looks over his shoulder at me to see if I’m still here. “I know somewhere with much stronger healing properties. The foods pretty good, too.”

  “If there’s an ER involved, count me out. I hate hospitals almost as much as I hate blood.” The fear in her voice is palpable. You’d think they slaughtered people there instead of healed them.

  “No ER, I promise,” he says, taking the road a little stiffer than before.

  “Is there rutting involved?” Her flirtation charges the air.

  “Only if you want there to be.”

  Shit. The last thing I want is to be privy to some warped sexual banter between the two of them, although I’d pay in gold to have the roles reversed—Logan back here writhing with jealousy, me in there passing time while Skyla flirts relentlessly.

  “There’s a yellow lab named Charlie,” he starts. “Some hot chocolate, a grilled cheese sandwich, and an ice pack involved—maybe some reality TV.”

  “Sounds like heaven,” she sings.

  “Almost is.”

  Almost is, my ass. It feels like anything but heaven having to sit, front and center, and listen in on Logan’s dime store pick-up lines.

  The truck jerks, and I clasp onto the side to keep from flying out like a Frisbee. A black convertible barrels in our direction at demonic speeds—same lane.

  Shit.

  “Do something!” Skyla screams.

  Logan is locked in with traffic on the left—a sheer cliffside to the right.

  “Aw, fuck.” I jump out of the truck and hope to God I can levitate. It’s the only power I’ve yet to hone that a Levatio is supposed to have mastered by the time they’re ten.

  I think of Skyla and the danger she’s in as I hoist the truck chassis over my shoulders. I think of Logan and his happy-go-lucky whistle, and we float higher than I’ve ever left the earth before. We sail through the air like a metallic cloud. Logan’s arm dips out of the window as he snaps a picture of the idiots in the oncoming car.

  I land the truck, and it bounces as I hop back into the bed.

  Skyla stares over at me, her mouth dangling open in disbelief.

  Looks like I finally got her attention.

  ***

  Once we get to the house, Logan and I lay it all out and have an entire conversation about who those people were, right there in front of Skyla. I thought Logan was determined to keep her in the dark, to “take it slow.” But he’s holding court right here in the kitchen, so I let it all out.

  “There’s a meeting at Nicholas Haver’s in two days,” I say it like a dare to see if Logan changes the subject.

  He nods. “We’re there.” Logan knocks his fist into mine, and for the first time in days, we feel like family again.

  “I want to go.” She blinks over at us innocently.

  I knew she would. Logan wants to steer her away from our world, and a selfish part of me wants to share it. I want to share everything with Skyla.

  “Go where?” Logan doesn’t seem to connect the pieces as he shakes down the fridge of all its sandwich offerings.

  “The meeting,” she says. “It’s a Celestra thing, right?”

  “Faction Council.” I’m more than happy to fill in the blanks for her. “You’re a Celestra.” Yet to be confirmed, but I’m pretty damn sure.

  Logan shoots me with those citrine eyes of his before reverting to Skyla. “There’s no way you can go,” he says, plucking the frying pan from the lower cabinet. “You could endanger yourself. The less people know you have Celestra blood, the better.”

  “Once you’re on their radar…” I stop abruptly. Maybe sharing too much information with Skyla is a death wish for her sanity. I shake my head at my stupidity.

  “Once I’m on their radar, they’ll want me dead.” She flat lines.

  “Not necessarily right away.” I try to put a positive spin on things. “They might give you a fighting chance.” I fold my arms as my mind races a million miles an hour, trying to figure out how we can possibly protect her, other than that ever-elusive protective hedge.

  “Like you?” She says it to Logan and waits for an answer.

  “Apparently”—he presses out a hesitant smile—“I have more than a fighting chance. I’m going to live to a ripe old age, remember?” He nods into me for confirmation of his expiration date.

  “We both are.” Skyla leans in as she says it.

  She believes it. Maybe deep down inside she knows my prophecies are true.

  Skyla gives the slight glint of a smile as she pours her soul into me with those translucent eyes. A wild jolt goes through me as she makes me the object of her attention, and it takes everything in me to just keep on breathing.

  “Remember what I said about vegetables,” I say, smacking the top of the door as I head into the family room.

  If she believes me about one thing, then she must about the other. Our marriage happens, whether or not she or Logan want to admit it.

  I’m right.

  The prophecies always come true.

  That vision of Skyla and me in a hotel room blinks through my mind.

  Best fucking vision ever.

  Lucky for me, they tend to repeat.

  10

  Logan

  Too Hot to Handle

  The next night, Emma has my olfactory senses, praising her culinary skills. The scent of turkey lies thick in the air as I head downstairs. Gage is busy helping himself to something in the fridge while Barron tends to a pot on the stove.

  “Team work.” I slap him playfully on the shoulder.

  “That’s what makes a sound marriage.” Barron raises his brows before replacing the lid. “You ever get that belt replaced on that bad receptacle?”

  My brother has a way of continuing a conversation months after the last interaction.

  “That was weeks ago. And, yes,” I say as Emma files past us. “By the way, I wanted to ask”—I glance over at Gage who’s busy pouring himself a glass of milk—“do you think you’ll visit Dad and Mom anytime soon?” Barron has a friend who’s a Celestra, and they travel back every now and again. It’s been a year since he last visited.

  I like the updates, the small talk translated through Barron. I miss my parents. Something in me still needs them.

  Barron frowns. “You’re all the Celestra I need, Logan. Would you like to join in on the journey?”

  “Yeah, Logan.” Gage pushes out a devilish smile. “Why don’t you hop back in time and see what happens?”

  “Why don’t I take you with me?” I tease. “Let’s see if I can make us both drop off the face of the earth.” Gage is begging to be misplaced in another
dimension.

  I know where Barron is going with this, so I let it go. I’m not into time travel. I’ve explained it to him a thousand times. He’s convinced it’s some irrational fear I have because of the accident, but I’m not about to run around the time continuum just to see which one of us is right. All I know is that my brother Liam no longer resides on the planet, and part of the reason why is the sacrifice he made for me.

  “Let’s get the table set,” Emma chirps.

  “Sorry, but I can’t stay.” I pull out the dishes as retribution for the thoughtless act of leaving what amounts to a Thanksgiving feast.

  “What?” She squawks.

  “I’ve got a date.”

  Gage shoots me a look.

  “Invite her.” She’s adamant I change my plans.

  Let’s see—trade alone time with Skyla for dinner with the Oliver clan? And risk Gage and his watery blue eyes vying for her carnal affections? I think not.

  “I second that.” Gage grunts it out dissatisfied because he knows I won’t. “Invite Skyla. I’d love to have her.”

  Have her. I shake my head.

  “No can do,” I say. “It’s sort of a big deal to change plans.” My dick and I both agree.

  Emma’s face deflates, and I offer a forlorn smile.

  Barron heaves a sigh as he looks from me to Gage. “You boys settle everything as far as the young lady is concerned?”

  “It’s settled,” I offer.

  Gage slaps the lid back on the milk and doesn’t say a word.

  ***

  I pull up alongside Skyla’s house and glance at the windows lit up with a warm orange glow. The driveway is empty, and my adrenaline spikes at the prospect of no parents breathing down our necks for the night.

  Skyla mentioned the misadventure she dodged like a bullet train. Turns out the entire family hightailed it to the mainland for a scenic tour of the coastline.

  I hop out of the truck and take the stairs two by two before giving a gentle knock on the door. I pat down my jeans to ensure I brought a condom in the event things go viral tonight—and God, I’m hoping things will go viral tonight. Not that I plan on breaking my word to Gage, but let’s face it—if Skyla has needs that she wants met, I’ll be happy to oblige.

  Skyla opens the door with a sexy-as-hell grin on her face, more than happy to see me. She’s wearing a low-cut top and painted-on jeans with a pair of high heels that bring her lips just shy of my chin. The sight of her sends my pulse racing through my ears.

  “Hi!” She waves me inside with a twirl of her thin fingers, and it takes all of my restraint not to dive them into my mouth one by one.

  “Dinner.” I hold up the bag of Italian sandwiches like a peace offering. The truth is, I’ve already consumed her six different ways in my perverted mind. Skyla has the power to satiate me, more than food can ever hope to do.

  She leads us over to the family room and turns on the television to fill the silence. We sit shoulder to shoulder and indulge on the eggplant sandwiches that I called in after she approved of the order. I thought about going for meatball, but decided to play it safe and eat whatever Skyla wanted. I’d eat fresh Paragon soil by the bowlful if she asked me to.

  “So, I had this freaky dream.” She shakes her head and laughs like it were silly.

  I pause mid-bite, plucking the sandwich from my mouth. I’m afraid this might be anything but silly.

  “Tell me all about it.” I down my soda in preparation for what comes next. Dreams usually mean something around here, and I’m betting Skyla’s dream, whatever it was, means something big.

  “It was about Chloe.” She shrugs like it was no big deal.

  If Chloe is rousing herself from the great beyond in Skyla’s dreams, I’m betting we’ve got one big fucking problem brewing.

  “It was stupid.”

  It wasn’t stupid. She’s trying to defuse the situation, and I don’t blame her.

  “She say something to you?”

  Her eyes widen, her tongue freezes on the side of her lip, and she shakes her head. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “If she has a message, I’d like to know what it is.” I run my hand over hers until our fingers interlace.

  She glances down at my weak effort to listen in and gives an impish grin.

  “I know what you’re doing.”

  Then tell me, I say, putting up the granite wall so she can’t hear my thoughts. Who knew Gage’s mind trick would come in handy with my girlfriend of all people. Did I just call her my girlfriend? I guess she is. I give a little smile.

  Skyla pauses, pressing her gaze into mine with something just this side of fear. If she doesn’t push it, I won’t either. I have a feeling Chloe can kill this evening faster than Gage ever could.

  “She doesn’t think I should go to the council meeting tomorrow night.” Skyla blows it out like it’s absurd.

  And you won’t, I’m quick to assert.

  Strange. Dreaming of Chloe and faction meetings all in the same twisted nocturnal musing? Chloe was always skittish about her Celestra standing, and I could never figure out why. It’s like she was ashamed—hell bent on denying it.

  “I have a right to be there.” Skyla straightens with defiance. “Besides, she ended it with all this psychobabble about me steering clear of you. Are you happy? She’s trying to meddle in our relationship from the great beyond.”

  “Relationship?” On second thought, I like that the conversation has landed squarely in front of Skyla and me.

  Oh, God, she panics. I used the R word—and to a guy. Next thing you know I’ll be telling him he’s my boyfriend.

  I try and hold back a laugh. She’s so damn cute. I push all thoughts of Gage and any promise I might have made to him far from my mind.

  I’ll take that title, I say, scooping her up and pulling her into my lap. No council meeting. Promise? I just want to keep you safe, Skyla—I swear my life on it. Only I don’t let her hear it.

  “Promise.” Her thoughts go to jelly, and I wince into her knowing exactly what she’s up to, but don’t call her on it. Instead, I crash my mouth over hers and savor it as her body relaxes into mine. Skyla returns my kisses with fervor. She runs her fingers through my hair and scratches little circles over the back of my neck, driving me insane with her subtle little moans. Skyla runs her tongue over my jaw, traces it all the way to my temple. She covers the rim of my ear with her hot mouth, and my insides clench tight.

  Skyla drives us to the point of no return at light speed. The bulge in my boxers can testify to this. Her hand snakes down and glides over my jeans before slipping under my T-shirt and over my bare skin. I take her hand and extract it. Skyla opens her sleepy eyes, looking drunk out of her mind for me. A lazy smile plays on my lips as I bury a kiss in her palm before running her hand down my chest, slow and methodical. I pause at the lip of my jeans, but she dives down lower and cradles my growing bulge, eliciting a deep, primal groan from within me. Skyla parts her lips, her eyes fluttering as she tries to sink her fingers in my boxers, but I stop her.

  Not here, not like this.

  I lay her down on the couch with her tongue still lashed to mine. We continue to exchange lust-filled kisses, keeping all the action from the neck and up. It’s not Gage and his feelings I’m concerned with—it’s Skyla. I want things to be right between us, and something about running the bases on her parents’ sofa doesn’t feel like a part of the plan. When we do share something more—share everything—I want the sun, the moon, and stars to align in our universe. I want everything to be special for Skyla—perfect, like she is.

  After a good long while I glance over at the clock in the dining room, and it reads ten after midnight.

  “Let me stay,” I whisper. “I promise I’ll stay on the couch. You won’t even know I’m here.”

  She takes a breath, considering it for a minute.

  “No.” Her forehead wrinkles as if she’s sorry to turn me down.

  “Why not? Won’t
you sleep better knowing I’m down here to protect you?” Hell—I’ll sleep better knowing I’m down here to protect her.

  “No. I’ll want to be down here, doing this…” She wraps her arms tight around me, and one of her sexy-as-hell dimples digs into her cheek. “Then neither of us will get a good night’s rest. Plus, I’ll have to lie to my mother again when she asks if any boys stayed over. I’ve met my quota on lying for the month.”

  Perfect.

  “That’s noble.” A part of me wishes she’d bend the truth just one more time. I peel myself off the couch and pluck her up in the process. “I open tomorrow. If you start dying of boredom, you’re welcome to join me.” I’m hoping a serious bout of boredom sets in once I head out the door.

  “Gee, thanks.” She leans into me. I hadn’t really thought about a job yet. I guess I need to see what kind of load I’m stuck with next semester. I’d hate to be doing my homework on the job.

  “The job’s yours if you want it, and I’ll let you get away with doing your homework on the side.”

  “It creeps me out when you do that.”

  I hold up our conjoined hands. “Only because you keep forgetting. I’m not trying to pry. It’s just out there—loud as speaking.”

  “You’re right. So, anyway, when will I see you?”

  “After my shift, I have a two-hour window before Gage and I head out to the meeting. What are you going to be up to?”

  “Just hanging out with Bree. Come over before you leave.”

  “You got it.”

  Skyla walks me to the door and melts her lips over mine with a kiss that could make the moon blush. Skyla is rife with sexuality—sensuality. Whether she knows it or not, she’s one hell of a vixen.

  It’s freezing out. The icy air snakes around my back as it races into the house. I run my finger over her cheek and take in the way she looks tonight just one more time.