Roar of the Lion : Celestra Forever After 7 Read online

  “I’ll put him in the freezer, just the way you requested, but only after I wash the keeping solution from him.” He heads down the hall and I quickly follow along.

  “Marshall, the sink is behind us.”

  “Yes, but the toilet is this way.”

  “Ugh,” I say, floating right alongside him as he heads into the restroom, and I watch as he gives Gage Oliver a long overdue swirly. And as soon as Gage’s face is washed questionably clean of all that keeping solution, Marshall pops him in the freezer, right here in the lab.

  “Now where?” I stab my fists into my hips as I examine the gorgeous Sector before me. “Who is this goose you spoke of earlier?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” He takes up my hand, and we evaporate in a thick lavender fog.

  A foreign living room forms around us, bland walls, a black and white furniture motif, an oversized television takes up half the wall, and on the black leather sofa sits an equally oversized ego.

  “Oh no,” I say, staring at the very beast who has vexed me for far too long in my short life. “Not Chloe Bishop.”

  The sound of a rhythmic thumping goes off nearby. Most likely someone trying to hack their way in so they can kill her.

  “Not Chloe Bishop,” Marshall concedes. “Chloe Oliver.” He winks my way as he puts the emphasis on her surname.

  “Great,” I growl right at the nefarious princess before me. “Honest to God, Marshall, I’d do my best to set her on fire if she weren’t the perfect candidate. She’s single. Everyone is afraid of her. And she has the wickedest mind I know. But best of all, she despises my sister Rory almost as much as I do. You know what? I think Bishop will work nicely. Go ahead and do the switcheroo.”

  That thumping sound grows a bit more aggressive, and Chloe turns to glower at the wall before tossing a small velvet pillow at it.

  “Keep it down!” she barks. “I don’t want to hear the incessant sound of your fucking!”

  I shudder when she says the word. It’s amazing how horrible it feels. I so get why expletives have irritated Marshall all these years.

  “Okay, so she’s no angel.” I shrug his way. “But we’ve always known and appreciated that about her.” Technically she is an angel, but you need to both expand your mind and broaden the definition to fully comprehend that.

  Marshall’s chest bounces with a laugh. “I don’t believe you’ve appreciated a single thing about Ms. Bishop, my love. And no, we cannot simply do the switcheroo. She needs to be willing.”

  “What?” I belt it out with disappointment. “Well, there goes that brilliant idea. Chloe will never go for it. She’s a monster who needs to be caught unaware if we want her to do our bidding. You and I both know that.”

  “Maybe so, but those are not the celestial rules in play. Only the wicked among us possess others without their knowledge.”

  “That’s right.” I clutch my neck at the thought. “And they’re only allowed to enter the unmarked.” As in those without the Holy Spirit residing in them. I shake my head as I look out at the rain slamming against the window. “And they wonder what’s wrong with the people of this world. If they only knew what was truly the matter with some of them. It’s sickening what the enemy has done, Marshall. A part of me wishes the Master would clear the playing board—heck, flip the board, and start from scratch with this place.”

  A sharp laugh comes from him. “He won’t be quick to replicate this beautiful disaster. Consider yourself among the blessed to have taken part in this marvelous opportunity.”

  I give a slow nod, my gaze still locked on the rain. “An invitation issued by the King to participate in a world of His making—not this world, of course. Here we’re called to merely taste and see that He is good. We ultimately decide where we spend eternity based on our acceptance or rejection of His Son. It’s so easy for some to say there is no God, but they speak in ignorance. You can look to nature for your answers if you don’t want to look any further. To the sky, the sea. To think it were all here by chance, that humanity has survived this long on a celestial whim is ludicrous. We are wanted, every last one of us. We are expected to attend the marriage supper of the lamb on the last day when we will be raised up in new bodies and welcomed to a better home without evil, without the scourge of wickedness weighing over our skulls. Oh, Marshall, I could weep far more than the Paragon rain could ever offer just thinking of how the enemy has deceived the masses. So many clever pursuits. Every one of them a raging success.”

  “Skyla.” He wraps his loving arms around me and blesses my cheek with a kiss. “It is your heart I love most, my love. But do not deceive yourself. The enemy doesn’t work all that hard. The masses are quite capable of bringing destruction upon themselves.”

  “They’ll be judged by what they know.” I shake my head, unable to bear the thought of a single human soul missing out on the best that lies ahead.

  “And sadly, many of them know far too much to ever be safe. It is by their own stubborn will that their souls will bear affliction. They lack faith in what they cannot see.”

  “Maybe faith is too hard. If more of the dead could come back, they might believe.” There’s a desperation rising in my voice, a desperation to save humanity from their wicked, stubborn selves.

  “They would not, Skyla. It has been done and they did not.” He sharpens his eyes over mine. “What then shall we do?”

  “Fight for my people. As we’ve decided.” I sigh as I look at the wicked witch before us. Chloe lost her body in the original Faction war to Ezrina, and she took on Ezrina’s twisted form. My mother, in her infinite kindness to Chloe, allowed her to morph back to her beautiful self—okay, so Chloe might just be far more stunning in this go-around. Nevertheless, she’s Chloe Bishop in Ezrina’s old skin. And I do mean old. That body has been around for a couple of centuries at least. “Okay, Marshall, let’s get this over with. Do your magic. Bippity boppity bop the boob on the head—and by boob, I mean Chloe. Let the witch see us and get her whining over with. I’m entering into that body whether she likes it or not. I’m storming the proverbial castle.”

  “Ms. Messenger, I’m afraid that’s not possible. There will be no storming of the castle. We’ve discussed this.”

  “Fine,” I say. “Whatever needs to be said to accomplish the feat, I’m ready to sweet talk the sourpuss before us.”

  He lifts a finger in the air. “Then by all means, it’s showtime.”

  A tingling sensation takes over. A sprinkling of miniature stars sprays around us as the room takes on more definition than before.

  Chloe’s eyes widen a notch as she looks to Marshall then to me.

  “Shit.” She scowls at the two of us. “You both nearly gave me a heart attack. What the hell do you want?”

  She jumps up as if she were ready to slaughter us, and I have no doubt she’d love to do just that.

  “Chloe.” I step in close. “I’ll get right to the point. I’m dead and looking for a body to haunt. I think you’d make a great fit for me because you don’t have anyone battling to get in your pants. What do you say?” Okay, so I could have finessed that a bit.

  Her mouth opens and closes as she looks from Marshall to me.

  “Dudley?” she spits his name out like a bucket of rusty nails. “What the hell is going on? I’m not in the mood for Messenger’s shenanigans. It’s been a long week, and I have a pedicure that needs to get underway.”

  I glance down at her bare feet and my eyes bulge.

  “Chloe, you’ve filed your toenails down to sharp points. Clearly you—”

  Marshall holds up a finger my way. Now, now, Ms. Messenger. Play nice so you can have nice things, like a corporal frame to occupy.

  A sigh escapes me. He’s right, I suppose. And aside from that, I appreciate the fact we can still communicate in private even though I’m down one Celestra body.

  I look to Chloe and nod. “What lovely feet you have,” I say as I mock bow to the queen of mean.

  Chloe squint
s those suspicious eyes my way. “The better to gouge your eyes out with. What do you mean you’re dead? If this is one of your manipulation tactics, you can forget it. I’m not buying any of the bull you’re slinging anymore.”

  “I’m really dead, Chloe.” I hold my arms out and she steps forward and pokes a finger right through my chest.

  “Dead, huh?” She hikes a wicked brow. “I still don’t buy it.”

  “It’s true. Stick a fork in me, I’m done. Dead as a doornail. I bit the big one. Kicked the rusty bucket. But, I’ve been deprived of a proper dirt nap, and that sort of brings me to my next point.”

  Chloe stands right in front of me and glowers as if she’s seeing her own reflection.

  “Skyla Messenger. Dead.” She flips me off without missing a beat. “I see destiny has righted itself after all. And to think, I was beginning to lose out hope. What do you want?”

  “I want back everything I lost.”

  She scoffs. “What do you think I am? A celestial piggy bank?”

  “I don’t know. Give me a hammer to smash over your head and we’ll find out.”

  “Funny.” She glowers my way. “Don’t you have a male harem to tend to? Why are you wasting time with me?”

  “Come to find out, you’re not my least favorite person to waste time with, after all. I’ve got a proposition for you.”

  “No,” she flatlines while checking her freshly painted manicure. I must have caught her on do-it-yourself spa night.

  I scoff at her quick rebuttal. “Hear me out.”

  “I’ve heard everything I want to hear, Skyla. No, and goodbye. Better yet, let’s leave off where we started this conversation.” She gives me the finger again, and this time it comes with a short-lived smile.

  “Chloe, please. You have to listen to what I’m trying to tell you. Rory—she’s in my body, parading around Paragon wearing me like a coat. And my babies! You have to understand, I love being a mother. I love my little boys more than life itself.” Anguish fills my voice, and it takes a moment for me to compose myself.

  She sits down again and pulls forward a bottle of blood red nail polish. Her eyes are slow to meet with mine.

  “You’re really dead, huh?” She shakes the bottle with a newfound vigor. “So how’d it happen? Let me guess, you gagged on Logan’s—”

  “No,” I cut her off at the lewd pass. “It was actually Gage that I gagged on.”

  Her eyes widen with both anger and horror.

  “Gage?” She gives a curt blink. “Oh, Skyla, please leave before there is another attempt on your life. I’m afraid you’re not dead enough for me yet. And as much as I’d like to fix that, I have my feet to tend to.”

  “Chloe”—I bend down and try my best to clamp my hands over hers—“let me tend to your feet. In fact, let me tend to your whole body. I’ll take care of it, I promise.”

  “You want my body?” Her voice rises in an unnatural octave, and for the first time in the history of ever, I do believe Chloe Bishop is just a little bit afraid. “Dudley, either tell me she’s kidding or haul this slimy soul away from me. I’m not in the mood to whore out my body to a celestial slug.” She shoves her face to mine. “Be gone, Skyla. I’m not interested in playing your body-snatching games.”

  “Yes, you are, Chloe,” I hiss. “I need a body, and I need it now. I’m getting married to Logan, and I need to evict Rory out of my body before that happens. She’s already given the twins away to Emma—and she’s teamed up with Gage!”

  “Let me get this straight.” Her lips twist as she glances to the floor. “You let Gage screw your soul right out of your body, and now you want my body so you can wreak more havoc on the unsuspecting planet. I hate to break it to you, Skyla, but the world would be a much safer place if only you had let me possess your body. Not the other way around. And why the hell do you need a body, anyway? I’m sure you can do just as much damage to the Factions without one. I have that much confidence in you.”

  “I need a body because that happens to be a requirement for hanging out on planet Earth. If I don’t get a corporal frame, I’ll be whisked off to paradise for good. Let’s just say my mother has given me a day pass—one friendly little possession, one chance to evict Rory and get back into my own body.”

  Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “Why me?”

  “You’re perfect.” Okay, so I might be laying it on a little thick, but I’m not wrong.

  She sniffs the air. It’s clear her ego has been stroked in the right direction.

  “And what do I get out of the deal?” Her eyes remain slotted, and I can practically see her wheels spinning as to what this might mean for her.

  What the hell could it mean for her?

  I glance to Marshall.

  The sexy Sector bleeds a dark smile. “Name your price, Ms. Bishop. You have all the power.”

  Not what I was expecting him to say. I was sort of hoping for a celestial reprimand that demanded she listen to her superior or else face her own expulsion from this spinning blue rock. But then, I’m sort of infamous for things not going my way. My guess is, Marshall has gone in the right direction.

  Chloe belts out a wicked laugh like only she can. “Oh, Skyla, when are you going to learn, I should always have all the power.” She snarls as she looks to the wall behind me. “What does this possession entail exactly?”

  Marshall nods briefly. “Ms. Messenger will be the primary. Your body will be the host, of course, and she will control all limbs, functions, speech included. You will be able to hear one another’s thoughts. You will be able to feel everything she feels physically, not emotionally. You will still have the ability to taste the food she puts into your mouth and be satiated or otherwise deficient.”

  “In effect, I’ll be a vegetable in my own body.” She glowers at me for even bringing up the idea. “And how long before you leave?”

  “I’ll be gone by my wedding night, Chloe.” I shake my head. “And so help me God, I will move heaven and earth to evict Rory far before then, too. I’m getting married in less than a month. I know I can give her the boot, but I can’t do it without your help. But don’t think of me, or my wedding. Think of the Factions. She’s about to set us back in time to the Dark Ages, and I wish I were exaggerating. She’s wicked. She makes you look like Mother Teresa. Let’s face it, your halo shines a little brighter around her. Hell, she gives your entire halo a spit shine.”

  Chloe takes a breath as she considers it. “I’ll want something in exchange.”

  “I expect nothing less. What is it?” Okay, so I may not have thought this through. Because at this desperate point, no matter how outlandish Chloe’s demands are, I have no choice but to give into them.

  “I’m no longer your secondhand gal.” Her lips expand.

  Honest to God, Chloe is far more delusional than I thought if she believes she was ever my secondhand gal, but I’ll go with it.

  She nods as if she heard me. “I will be your equal from here on out. You might be back on that celestial throne, but I will rule beside you. Your power will be reduced by half, and that half will be given to me. I’m no fool, Skyla. I know your mother will never allow me to rule in your place. But you will agree to my demands. And don’t expect this to be done under friendly terms. I don’t ever have to like you.”

  “Duly noted.” It comes out with far less enthusiasm on my part. I take a deep breath as I look to Marshall. “This is all Rory’s stupid fault.”

  Marshall lifts a brow. “My love, it was your lips that lingered over that wicked Oliver. I believe the blame lies square over your libido.”

  “No,” Chloe flatlines as she dares correct him. “It’s her defunct heart that’s to blame. She still wants to believe Gage loves her.” She says the word loves in air quotes as she pretends to vomit. “She wants to believe that he’s not the power-hungry monster he truly is. Skyla, you might think my heart is missing, but had you ignored yours on more than one occasion, you wouldn’t be in half the messes you’re in.
It would have benefited all of us if you took a page out of my cold-hearted playbook. But—it’s too late for that now, isn’t it?”

  “Too late indeed,” I mutter.

  Her words swill through my mind like bitter wine.

  My God, I hate it when Chloe Bishop is right.

  Chloe blinks a short-lived smile. “Now that you’ve agreed to my primary terms, I have other terms you must abide by before you gain entry to the holy of holies, this, my beautiful body.”

  More like the unholy of holies, but I don’t dare let a single zinger fly.

  “Go on,” I say. “Let me have it.” And I do feel as if I’m about to take it on the chin.

  “No sleeping around. I will not be getting knocked up on your watch.” She gets right to the crude and lewd point. “Unless I approve of the victim.” That devilish grin expands on her lips again. “As for food, I don’t eat chicken or most red meat. I make exceptions for turkey if it’s smoked or juicy. None of that dry shit. I eat fish, but not all. Sushi is a no-go. I don’t do well with beans so I don’t eat them. I try to limit my gluten, and for God’s sake no dairy. Do not think because you will be lounging in my body for a short period of time that this is the equivalent of your Rumspringa. You are not to abuse the privilege of having me host your ditzy soul. Do not start filling my pie hole with Ding Dongs and Twinkies at random just because you won’t have to live with the caloric havoc you wreak on my body. This is my temple, and I happen to appreciate the hell out of it. I walk once a day. I hate running. Do not twist my body into a pretzel because it helps you meditate and further lose your mind. Do not over apologize as you are prone to do. I don’t want people to think I’m a pussy. You will be curt and confident at all times. I don’t need you tearing down the reputation I spent a lifetime building. I don’t cavort with Harrison or that nitwit he’s leashed himself to. I can tolerate Michelle, Lexy, Nat, and Em but for short spates of time only. I abhor Laken. I have very little time for Brielle. I can take or leave Logan, but I suppose you’ll let him in on your body-snatching secret. If we happen to run into any half-breeds that fell out of my vagina, a cordial greeting is all they get. I don’t want to confuse them with some lovey-dovey routine you might want to pull. Wes raises my kids, and that’s the way it goes. I’d advise you to do the same with your own rugrats lest they love me unreasonably by the time you’re through with me. But, given the fact you’re such a bleeding heart, I don’t expect you to follow that rule with your own children. Just know, my tits are off-limits to them.”