The Serpentine Butterfly Read online

  What’s this? A faux compliment for yours truly? Wow. I wonder if Gage put her up to this. But then again, it was Barron practically beating her into submission.

  I twist my lips. “Why thank you, Emma. You look quite nice yourself.” No lie. Emma is always put together with her hair in an oppressively tight bun, which happens to be dyed an unfortunate shade circus clown orange this week. Her outfit is always a fitted business casual as if she’s about to negotiate contract terms for that preschool she runs right here in Paragon’s backyard. She’s the school dictator, director, whichever.

  Emma bends her wrist in my direction. “You should both come by tomorrow night for dinner. I’ve got haggis on the menu and—”

  My body convulses on cue, and I slap a hand over my retching mouth to keep the projectile vomit in check. Haggis is sheep heart, liver, and lungs all cooked in a debatably delicious pudding inside the poor creature’s very own stomach. Nothing says yum quite like vital organs.

  “Ha!” Emma balks. “See that?” Now she’s the one nudging Barron. “She’s mocking me. I’ve never met anyone so abruptly rude. Honestly”—she hisses toward Gage—“it’s like you’ve married a child.”

  Mom and I exchange smackgobbed looks.

  “Emma!” Barron cries. “How do you ever plan on getting along with your daughter-in-law with your own juvenile behavior on display?”

  “Someone just got called out,” I pant while fanning myself, trying my damnedest not to pass out. Lord knows Emma will take it personally.

  Gage gives an aggressive huff. “Listen, before this goes any further, I have an announcement I want to make.”

  Tad meanders into our caustic circle and smacks Gage in the arm, and it’s then I note that the terrible two are with him. Crap. Agent Killion has her auburn hair fashioned into tentacles, and Agent Moser looks as if his head elongated just for the occasion. I swear, in the mother of all ironies, I bet we’ll find out they are the true aliens.

  “Hold off on the gas, Greg, would you?” He cozies up next to Mom. “Jilly—Ny the Science Guy, this is my wife, Lizbeth Landon. She’s responsible for all this delicious food and the spectacular entertainment.”

  God, I’m pretty sure pegging Mom for this meal will prove to be regretful in about twenty-four hours. And what spectacular entertainment? I do a quick sweep of the vicinity to make sure Drake and Bree aren’t procreating in full view of the masses.

  Mom bats his compliment away, as she should. For one, he’s just pinned an island wide homicide on her. I bet Tad has plans to cash out of Casa de Landon once that happens and take off with the Titty Temptress, aka, Isis the Idiot.

  Agent Killion reluctantly takes my mother’s hand and shakes it. “I assure you we don’t go by Jilly, or Ny the Science Guy.” She shoots Tad a lethal look. “It’s Killion and Moser. We prefer surnames only.”

  “Personable, aren’t they?” I whisper to Gage, and Killion’s head turns eerily in a clean snap toward me. There’s something disturbing about her eyes, something reptilian that I can’t quite put my finger on. Misty whines in my arms, and I turn her head away from the mean snake-like lady. “It’s nice to meet you,” I say, bouncing Misty over my growing stomach. “I’m Skyla. This is my husband, Gage.”

  “Have we met before?” Her forehead wrinkles into three solid lines as she inspects Gage. Come to think of it, the two of them are looking more cartoon-like by the second.

  “I believe you’re thinking of my brother, Wesley. We resemble one another quite a bit.”

  Gage just handed them their first paranormal morsel, not that they’ll pick up on it.

  Emma juts her neck out like a turkey. “So, what brings the two of you to Paragon?”

  “Research,” they chime in unison, dry and monotone, as if they’ve spent their whole lives spewing that singular excuse.

  Barron’s thick brows lift in the exact same manner that Gage’s do, and I marvel at how much alike they are for not being genetically related. “What type of research?”

  “Plant life,” the girl bot says without an ounce of inflection.

  “We work for Althorpe,” the male drone offers. “Biotech department. We’re looking to lay roots to a new department here.”

  Tad gives an awkward fist pump to Ny that narrowly misses Emma’s face, and I frown. What the hell is wrong with me? I would never want Tad to haul off and coldcock Emma—well, maybe just the once, accidentally, of course. “It’s all about cleaner living!” Tad shouts his cheer loud and proud for all to hear. “Nothing says green like Althorpe. We’re leading the world in reduced fossils emissions by powering the future with smarter people.”

  Wow. I’m really embarrassed for Tad. He sounds like some walking pamphlet that got stepped on by a shit-covered shoe and now nothing makes sense, it just sort of stinks.

  Killion and Moser look down on him in both the traditional and literal way.

  “If you’ll excuse us, we have an announcement to make,” Gage says, pushing his smile to each of their faces.

  “What? Right now?” I give his arm a slight tug. I’m not so sure our baby news should mix with the exact people who are looking to lock our children up in cages. Just the thought makes me see red, and now I’d love nothing more than to kick some government-issued ass.

  Misty yelps as if she agrees.

  “Yes, right now.” He settles a sweet kiss to the top of my head before dipping his mouth to my ear. “We want the night to seem as normal as possible—family oriented,” he whispers. “They’re looking for a Count coven, a faction meeting, and that’s the last thing they’re going to find.”

  “Agree.” I look to my mother and beam. “Is there a way to get everyone’s attention?”

  “Tad”—she nods while taking back Misty—“do your thing.”

  “Listen up!” He claps up a storm, and no one pays him any mind. “I said listen up!” he barks, giving an affirmative nod of authority to Agent One and Agent Two, but still not a cricket has stopped chirping. “Anyone lose a fifty-dollar bill?”

  The entire island shuts the hell up and turns around.

  Well played, Tad Landon. Well played.

  “Gets ’em every single time,” Tad honks with pride.

  Demetri edges his way over. Rat. He smells a baby announcement coming, and speaking of smells, what is that rank odor? I glance around and spot Bree coming in close with a platter full of detestable looking meats and gah! Tentacles! An entire bed of squid lies strewn about with their tiny little legs frozen midair. Glibbery, glistening, pink, purple, and gray, with miniature suction cups dotting their extremities.

  Holy shit. I openly retch for all to see, and unfortunately, hear. Bree’s eyes meet up with mine, and she bolts like a deer with a double-barreled shotgun staring down her face. My stomach squeezes tight just as Gage raises his arm to the crowd.

  “If I could hold your attention for just a moment,” he starts before looking to me lovingly, and my eyes swell with instant tears. “I think everyone here knows that just under a year ago I was fortunate enough to marry my best friend, the love of my life, Skyla Messenger.”

  The crowd breaks out into a soft sigh, and, one by one, I recognize faces from West. It’s like a high school reunion right here in our backyard, each one of them with an overflowing poisonous plate in hand. Lovely. My mother will slaughter the entire graduating class, sans Logan, of course, whom Chloe managed to slaughter first because she’s a moron. Speaking of the witch, she and Wes slink over for front row seats, and I openly scowl at the two of them. Figures. Come for the free food and entertainment. Fifty fake bucks says she’s about to usurp our announcement.

  “I want to take this moment to tell the world how very lucky I am, and how madly in love I am with this woman.” My husband’s voice catches on his words while the crowd gives another round of coos.

  Chloe coughs as if she’s about to be sick.

  “It is with great excitement”—he continues—“and a touch of fear of the unknown that Skyla and I
would like to announce that we’re excepting a baby later this year.”

  A slight gasp emits before the crowd breaks out into deafening cheers, and congratulations are shouted from the four corners of the Earth.

  Mom and Tad drop their jaws to the floor while the Olivers look as pale as ghosts.

  “Skyla?” Mom nods as if needing further proof.

  “It’s true.” I give a little shrug before she pounces over me.

  “Oh, my baby girl is going to have a baby! I’m so proud of you!” she squeals straight into my ear and extinguishes the hearing on my right side. “I can’t believe this!” She pulls back, still bracing me at the shoulders, her face filled with tears of joy. “Is this for real? I can’t bear it, Skyla. Are we really having a baby?”

  I note the pronoun shift that just took place and smile. In every way, I want my mother involved.

  “Yes.” I pull Gage in close. “We’re having a baby.”

  “Well, congratulations.” Tad spits it out with a sarcastic enthusiasm generally reserved for buffoons and idiots. “Let’s get one thing straight. There’s no more room at the Landon Inn. Get back on that orange donkey of yours and keep on keeping on.” He hitches his thumb toward the Mustang. “We’re knee-deep in rugrats as it is. We’ve caught our limit.”

  “Oh, stop.” Mom smacks him.

  “Was this planned?” Emma snaps as if demanding an explanation. “I thought you were on birth control!” she snips at me as if this entire mess were my fault. She so wishes.

  Before I can open my mouth to say a word, Mom scoffs her off with a wave.

  “Two can play the contraception game.” She makes a face that’s indicative of her newfound disdain for Emma. “And—two have to play the conception game. I say we call it a tie and forget about the name calling.”

  Boom! Mom just seriously laid it all down. And the rush of relief she just inspired has actually lessened my nausea.

  “Congratulations, you two.” Barron pulls me into a hug first before bringing Gage in on the action. His enthusiasm is so genuine, so beautiful and light, that I want to bask in it all night. “I just know you’ll make fantastic parents.”

  “Yes—congratulations.” Emma looks just as sick as I feel. “I suppose I wasn’t expecting this so soon. You’ll finish college, Gage, don’t you worry. Skyla and this baby won’t get in the way.” She offers up a hard embrace to her son as if he’s about to go off to war. Thermonuclear war. Little does she know he’s already gone to war—a war with my vagina—in which he carpet-bombed my uterus with his amazingly speedy and ultra determined semen.

  Three babies! I feel like shouting in her face. We’re having three!

  I bet it would kill both her and Tad if we told them the truth. Now there’s a twofer I might be interested in.

  Emily and Ethan come up and offer their congratulations.

  “Dude.” Ethan slaps Gage some skin. “Welcome to the club. You’re going to be fucking broke forever.” I think it’s great the way he’s stepped up and become a true father to Ember. Not that Drake isn’t being a true father to her—it’s just that, well, he’s Drake.

  Em looks straight at me with that dead look in her eyes. “We have a lot to talk about.”

  God. I’m not too sure I want advice on anything that concerns the living, especially not the three living beings swimming around in my belly. Hey, I’ve practically become a human aquarium! I perk up at the thought until a vision of those tentacles comes back, and a wave of serious nausea pulses through me again.

  Where is Dudley?

  “You’ll go natural,” Mom insists as she pulls me in by the hand.

  “It’s going to hurt like a motherfucker,” Em bleats without an ounce of emotion.

  Crap.

  “I probably won’t be going natural,” I mumble, because for one, I’m not really ready to have this conversation just yet. It’s just a fact. I’m not trying to start a war of the vaginas with my mother.

  “Brielle went natural, and so will you,” she says through her teeth like a bad ventriloquist.

  “Brielle’s a freak of nature. Besides, she gave birth in a parking lot with the aid of my boyfriend who was a junior at the time.” I grind my teeth. This is all Brielle’s fault to begin with—tricking me with all that no-vanilla bullshit. I bet it was all a ploy to get me to join that baby-making cult she founded with my mother.

  Speaking of Bree—she and Drake come over, and soon we’re landlocked by our old senior class. Everyone seems excited and thrilled for us, well, everyone but Emma, of course.

  She gives a wobbly smile as she and Barron successfully excavate us from the crowd. “I’ve got a sudden headache.”

  Barron offers another brief hug. “Come for dinner one night, and we’ll open a bottle of our finest apple cider.” He offers me a wink before his features sag, depleted of the smile he held just a moment before. “I suppose there are faction ramifications.”

  Gage gives a slow nod. “This offers Demetri—”

  “Dominion,” a deep voice strums from behind as the beast himself lands in our midst. “But let’s not allow that technicality overshadow this joyous occasion. This child is so much more than its lineage. This child is a unique being created from the love of these two amazing young people.” Demetri bows to me slightly. “Don’t you ever let its DNA define it. This child, like everyone else, will get one shot on this spinning blue rock, and I imagine it will be magnificent. I’m truly elated for the two of you. A love like yours deserves a rich legacy to see it through time.”

  Gage and I seize, unsure of how to respond to this unusual act of kindness.

  “Thank you.” The words stutter from me. I’m suddenly gripped with grief over the fact my own father isn’t here to experience this moment, and to make it worse, I just thanked the man who killed him. Sometimes, I can be a real moron.

  “When will it arrive?” Emma shudders as if we’ve summoned a demon.

  “December thirteenth.” A shiver runs through me as I say the date of my anniversary with Logan out loud. “At least that’s when I’m due.”

  “What?” Mom shrieks her way over. “Skyla, that means you’re fifteen weeks!”

  Dear God, the woman is a genius when it comes to prenatal mathematics.

  “I’ve missed your entire first trimester!” she cries, her face crumbling, because for one, my mother is genuinely sorry about this unlike ungrateful Emma who is still looking to pin this whole conception deception on me.

  “Don’t feel bad,” I offer. “I sort of did, too.”

  Mia and Melissa make their way over, and I happily use my sisters in an effort to excuse both Gage and me from Emma’s allergic reaction to my children.

  “Did you see that?” I whisper. “She wasn’t even happy for us!”

  Gage glances back a moment. “It’s too new. She’s freaked out. I can tell.”

  “She’s been freaked out ever since we said I do. It’s a sad day when we tell her we’re gifting her a grandbaby, and Demetri out nices her by a mile.”

  “She’ll be better by morning.” He lovingly smooths the hair off my face. “She’s going to spoil you from here on out with dinner and dessert. Just you wait and see.”

  “If haggis is number one on her menu, then she’s already spoiled something—my appetite.”

  My sisters come upon us, and Melissa is the first to offer up a high five to both of us.

  “Hey, skank. Congrats.” Melissa offers an awkward hug, and Mia pulls her back abruptly.

  “You can’t call my sister a skank. You’re the skank. Don’t think I didn’t see you with Rev.”

  “What’s the matter?” Melissa bites over her cherry-colored lips. They’re both wearing matching micro-miniskirts and pancake white powder and red lips. It’s an eerie look. And not a good one. “I thought you wanted your freedom before the two of you get tied down. Isn’t that what you said? Now is the time to sow your wild oats.”

  “No wild oat sowing,” I interject, patting my
stomach. “This is a direct result of sowing wild oats.” Not really in the traditional sense, but if it weren’t for Brielle’s non-vanilla sex competition and Ellis’s newfound hygiene practices when it comes to anal sex, we wouldn’t be in this predicament right now.

  Mia gets right in her face. “You suck, Melissa! You’re only interested in Rev because I’m with Gabriel, and you know it pisses me off!”

  “You’re just with Gabriel because you know it pisses me off.” Melissa pulls back like she’s about to slug her, and Gage breaks it up.

  “Enough,” he barks. “No throwing punches. There’s not a guy on the planet worth this.”

  Go, Gage. And what happened to giving up guys for the summer? Their pledge didn’t last one full day. I’m beginning to think both of my sisters have a serious addiction to testosterone. I give Gage a quick squeeze—me included.

  Mom comes over and drags them both off to the house like the toddlers they’re acting like.

  “This is just sick. What kind of person dates someone just to make someone else jealous? Mia should just pick one. She can’t have two boyfriends.”

  “Oh, come on, Messenger.” I turn to find Chloe and her glowing teeth, sparkling like shards in this dim light. “You practically invented that game. It looks like the skanky little sister didn’t roll far from the rotten family tree.”

  Bree comes up with Natalie Coleman, Michelle Miller, and Lexy—who instantly infuses me with both rage and DEFCON 1 level nausea.

  “Congratulations, Messenger.” Lexy is the first to offer up her approval. “Logan and I will be sure to send a gift when the time is right.”

  Gage takes up my hand. Ignore her.

  “That won’t be necessary.” I scowl just as Logan, Coop, and Laken make their way over.

  “Sure, it will.” Lex is quick to wrap herself around his body like a python. “Uncle Logan and Auntie Lexy are going to spoil little Baby Oliver with all of the gifts and attention we can afford.”

  Logan peels her off with a gentle smile.

  “You see that, Lex?” I snip. “He’s peeling you off like an old coat. Logan is too much of a gentleman to toss you into the deep end.” Plus, no pool.