Ethereal Knights Read online

  The Solicitor

  Were these prognostications nothing but lies to quell the intense desire to have you?

  Passion rises in me, consummate and urgent.

  Time has brought you by my side, and still you refuse me.

  I believe this too shall pass.

  You will love me—passion will rise from you, consummate and urgent.

  I stop there and shut the book—close my eyes a minute and feel the heat pressing down over my sore back.

  Push-ups. I wasn’t killing myself with push-ups yesterday because of any impending showdown on the football field with East, that’s for damn sure. It was all I could do to get my mind off the idea of Skyla melting over Logan’s body. He mentioned they were heading out to the Falls today. That’s where they are right now, probably skinny-dipping. Looks like Logan is the one who gets to run his tongue over her honeyed skin.

  I don’t understand this.

  I snatch at the journal, and it takes everything in me not to submerge it underwater, drowning all of those carnal and spiritual inclinations I’ve poured into Logan’s girlfriend for the last few years in a fit of misplaced hormonal lust.

  Damn. How could I be so stupid?

  I start in on a series of push-ups. The burn in my abs is about as welcome as swallowing a sword, but I force myself to blow through the pain for five minutes straight.

  “Shit,” I pant, collapsing on the heated edge of the pool.

  Skyla winks at me from behind my eyelids, and I don’t fight it, just keep my eyes closed and go along with wherever the fantasy wants to lead. I don’t give a flying fuck right now whether or not I’ve made a mistake. A part of me knows I haven’t—that it’s going to be Skyla and me in the end.

  A scene blinks through my mind, in and out like a movie reel. A building crops up with the signage partially blocked by a pine tree but I can still make out the word: hotel.

  A dark room appears. The curtains glow orange, and a seam of light outlines the window. It’s daylight out, but the shades are drawn. I can feel the room, the heat inside like that of this sweltering day. Skyla steps in front of me, and there I am, pulling the T-shirt right off her body. She reaches over, looking at me like I’ve cast a spell on her, and snatches off my shirt, digs her fingers into the rim of my jeans, and I help her speed them off like they were on fire. In two seconds flat, I’m in my birthday suit, but I’m much slower to take her clothes off. Instead, I pull her in by the face and kiss her as if I were singing a song directly into her mouth. I reach back and unhitch her bra, and it drops to the floor like an erotic promise. Her bare chest rakes over my skin, and I groan both in and out of my fantasy. I unbuckle her jeans, and she helps shake them off, taking her underwear right along with them—hell, if she was wearing any. Skyla presses her heated flesh against mine, and an invisible blaze envelops the room. A shower of ecstasy rains down over us with just one magical touch from the girl I’ve desperately come to love.

  It’s a given that it’s our first time. Something in me innately knows this.

  Her mouth rakes over mine and sends my erection brushing against her thigh. I walk her back toward the bed, never unleashing our tongues, our bodies fused together at the stomach. I need her right fucking now. I need to bury myself inside her, and as soon as I do, I’m going come for weeks, for years. My body will never be the same—every other experience I’ll ever have on this spinning rock will pale in comparison. I’ll forever hold each glorious moment that life has to offer up to this one, and already I know they will never measure up.

  It’s just Skyla and me, drinking down our eternal love for one other, never letting go, never wanting to.

  She lies back, and I land gently on top of her. It never occurred to me I could kill her, crush her lungs if I lay my full weight over her thin frame, so I lean up on my elbows, dousing her face with the blowtorch coming from my mouth.

  Skyla wraps her legs around my back and touches me. Her cool hands run up and down my dick, and I let out a ragged breath, barely able to control myself. I dive a kiss into her mouth as she guides me in, so fucking wet and tight I’m going to die.

  I open my eyes and gasp for air as Paragon reconstructs itself around me. The house, the sky, the evergreens that line the property, spin like a top.

  I roll over and fall into the pool, letting myself sink as far as the icy water will allow in hopes to deflate this Eifel Tower of a hard-on.

  Skyla Messenger—you are going to be the end of me.

  The best part is, this was no reckless fantasy—no ordinary wet daydream—that was a bona fide vision. And that for damn sure wasn’t Logan making love to Skyla.

  It was me.

  8

  Logan

  Revelation

  The sky bubbles and brews in an entire rainbow of blacks and greys, threatening to ruin the perfect outing I have planned with Skyla. I called earlier and asked if she’d spend the afternoon with me. Thankfully, she said yes.

  Gage has me rattled with his “it’s on” comment this morning at breakfast. What’s on? Does he really think he’s going to steal Skyla? What the fuck? Isn’t there some kind of guy code we should be discussing that strictly stipulates not going after another guy’s girl?

  Skyla is into me, and I’m definitely into her. This isn’t up for discussion. I’ll make it clear when I get home that he needs to find another female to sniff around, because the only one who’s pressing his nose—or other body part—to Skyla, is me. Besides, once Barron certifies the fact that she’s Celestra, Gage will see she’s the girl for me and back off.

  I shake my head as I come upon Skyla’s house. Gage has never been wrong before so of course he’ll back down when I give him the facts. But my gut tells me he won’t.

  Skyla waves from the bottom of the driveway as I pull alongside the curb. The fog washes over her, making her look like a dream within a dream.

  She beams that beautiful smile and melts every part of me, evaporates Gage and his prognosticating dimples right out of existence—for now, anyway.

  “Hey, you!” She opens the door and struggles to hop in. My stomach clenches at the sight of her. I’m the luckiest dog alive to be spending the afternoon—hell, any part of the day with Skyla I’m-a-Goddess Messenger.

  “I would have come around to help you,” I say, as she struggles her way inside.

  “No worries.” She snatches at my fingers just as she slips off the mini-ladder. I grab onto her waist, giving a bionic pull until she’s safely seated next to me.

  “How’d you do that?” Her mouth falls open with awe as she buckles herself in.

  “It’s a gift.” I huff it out with a gentle laugh while maneuvering us onto the road.

  “You’re, like, really strong.” She pants as if I’ve inadvertently spooked her. “Can I do that?”

  “I don’t know, can you?” She can. Strength is a Nephilim gift straight across the board, no matter what faction you’re a part of.

  “I don’t think so.”

  The evergreens race past us in a violent exchange of branches and sky as we head out onto the main highway. The fog licks the truck as we race through miles of unblemished Paragon terrain before hitting the stop-and-go traffic of downtown.

  “Your gifts can grow,” I whisper. “It’s rare, but they can manifest with time.” I look over and offer a platonic smile. “Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t do something. It’s poison every single time.”

  ***

  The Falls of Virtue are a testament to the Master’s glory like nothing else I’ve ever seen—until I met Skyla.

  The fog skirts by our feet at this heightened elevation as I lead us down to the waterline to where the view is best.

  There they are—three falls, each perfectly spaced across the back of the hillside. We watch as they rain down with fury and passion into the open mouth of the lake. It’s a heated exchange, pulsating and throbbing, something just this side of erotic. It’s so blatantly beautiful here. It makes you feel as
if you’ve accidentally landed in paradise.

  “Wow.” She looks up at a rainbow just beyond the peak, and a laugh gets trapped in her throat. “It’s…”

  Skyla struggles for words. Her lips part. It takes all of my self-control not to dive down over her mouth and cover it with my own.

  “You have unicorns here, too?” She laughs.

  “Not at this location. They prefer the higher elevations where it snows.” I bite my lip until it feels like I might draw blood. I’m having serious withdrawals from kissing her, and yet, I don’t want her to think I dragged her all the way up here to maul her—but God, how I would love to maul her.

  “So that’s where the water comes from?”

  “Year round.” I tick my head back, trying to ignore the fact I’m starting to get the shakes just looking at her.

  She heads toward the edge of the lake with the water nearly lapping over her shoes. I step beside her and wrap an arm around her waist, safely away from her skin so she doesn’t think I’m trying to listen in.

  “This is where I want to get married someday.” Her face ignites with color. She swallows hard, as if realizing what she just let slip. “Gage said I was going to marry him.” She averts her eyes, as if the theory were more than laughable.

  Everything in me goes numb—the expression bleeds from my face.

  A thousand thoughts assault me at once.

  The world dims to pitch, and all I can make out is Skyla and her luminescent outline, her perfect body belonging to Gage.

  “So it must be true,” I whisper.

  Gage—this was his girl, his dream come to life. This is precisely why he bit down as soon as she came into town and wouldn’t let go. He knew it, and he didn’t tell me. He gave her the knife, and she gutted me without even knowing.

  A strangled feeling overcomes me and I fight like hell to shake it off.

  This is Skyla, the Celestra that stole my heart with one bat of her lash. The minute she set foot on Paragon, she lit up my universe with her smile. To hell with Gage and his weepy-eyed dreams. I’m not letting go. If he wants her—if he wants his unblemished “prognosticating” track record to continue—he’ll have to go through me to make it happen.

  “I’m not marrying Gage.” She spits it out as if it were a fact—as if she had any say in it at all. “I thought it was funny.” She shakes her head. “Brielle thinks maybe he has a crush on me.”

  “He does.” I can’t seem to break my deer-in-the headlights gaze.

  “Anyway”—she breathes—“I’m not into him.” She pauses, waving her hand over my face to capture my attention. “I’m into you.”

  And there it is. Just the words I needed to break the spell. A smile curves on the edge of my lips, and everything in me aches to kiss her.

  “I’m into you,” I say, pulling her in close.

  Skyla, with her out-of-the box wicked beauty. I want to run my tongue over every inch, devour her in one quick bite—swallow her down.

  I sweep my lips over hers, and an involuntary groan wrenches from me. We kiss in waves of heated passion. We drink down the wine of new love by the vat. This is meaningful. This is right, and for damn sure, it’s meant to be. Every angel on earth and in heaven can testify to the truth of what’s unfolding between us.

  I love kissing Logan, Skyla’s mind reels with lust. Kissing Logan at the Falls of Virtue is like stepping into a fairytale. Suddenly, I’m transported to a land with dragons and villains. Of course, I’m the princess, which in turn makes Logan the perfect prince.

  I pull back and dot the tip of her nose with my lips.

  “You up for a swim, princess?”

  Her mouth falls open at the realization that I’ve read her thoughts.

  “I don’t have my bathing suit.” She gives a sexy-as-hell smile, and the bulge in my jeans rises to salute her.

  “Swim in your underwear—or without. Your choice.” Choose without. I relax my grip around her sweater. Too bad she didn’t hear my preference.

  “I don’t have a towel.” It comes out pressured and gives away the fact she’s not so hot on the idea.

  “I have a few in the truck for emergencies.” No point in letting her off so easy. I try to hide the grin wanting to take over.

  “Does this qualify as an emergency?” Skyla licks her lips slowly, in one clean sweep like she’s trying to seduce me.

  “It’s the only one I know of.” My jeans tighten just below the hips. I turn slightly so I don’t stab her in the leg with my newfound protrusion and send her running for the hills. “I’ll stay in my boxers.” I hold up a hand, swearing to my declaration.

  She takes a heated breath, as if a preview of what’s to come just swirled through her mind like some wild porno flick. Not that I plan on doing anything wildly pornographic with her. In fact, I plan on taking it slow—doing things right. This isn’t some dime-a-dozen girl I’ve latched onto at one of Ellis’s VD petri dish get-togethers. Skyla is special—a princess, someone to build a life with.

  “Sure.” She finally concedes and starts heading toward the truck.

  I whip out my cell to send a big FU to Gage, and my thumb hits “camera” instead of messages, so I go with it. I aim high and snap of picture of Skyla’s arms in the air, her sweater knotted up by her wrists.

  I’m mesmerized as her golden hair falls against her bare skin. Her pink bra straps set my body on fire, and I groan, pushing off my jeans. I’m already testing the resolve of my boxers. I’d better get it under control, and fast.

  I land my phone and jeans on the hood of the truck, take off my T-shirt, and hook it over the windshield.

  Skyla walks over, slow and methodical, swiveling her hips like a well-polished vixen. Her pink toenails call to me like candy. Her tan legs rise like skyscrapers that I long to climb. I ride my gaze up her body and trace out her yellow lace underwear, her hot pink bra with a diamond-cut jewel shining between her cleavage. If I didn’t know better, I’d think swimming in our underwear was a well thought-out plan on her part.

  Her face turns ten shades of red as she sweeps her eyes over me. She blinks down at my boxers and bounces her gaze right back to my face.

  I press my lips against her, and land her stomach over mine. My body seizes with the touch of her heated skin, and a strangled sound of pleasure gets trapped in my throat.

  “You think the water’s cold?” She lands her cool hands over my chest and pushes me back a good twelve inches.

  “I hope so.” For the sake of my sanity, it’d better be.

  I walk her over to the “diving board,” a granite ledge that hangs over the top of the falls, and give her a smile as we jump hand in hand. The lake swallows us down, engulfing us with its sharp, icy sting—fire and ice, all in one. This is what it feels like being with Skyla, a delirium of sensation, the logic of up and down, hot and cold is erased in her bewitching presence.

  Skyla and I cement our feelings for one another under each of the three falls by way of our lips, our arms, her legs riding over my back. These are lust-borne kisses, mysterious kisses that stretch back and forth in time, explosive lingual exchanges that just might be illegal in all fifty states. We set the water on fire—turn the entire lake into a boiling cauldron as we drop beneath the surface, our mouths interlocked, exchanging the air from our lungs like currency.

  Skyla coils her legs around me. Her fingernails dig into my back as she pushes in with great intensity. There’s no way I would ever become Gage’s anything. Logan has me totally and completely. This is something that surpasses the length of years, the ladder of time. We’re building something eternal. I can feel it.

  We pop to the surface and gasp for air as laughter trembles from our lips.

  Something catches her attention off in the ebony pines, and I follow her gaze.

  Nevermore.

  I dive back under for a minute. Gage won’t let her out of his sight, and I finally know why.

  I’m about to prove Gage and his gift of knowing wrong. I’ll be
damned if I let him get in the way our love.

  Skyla and I will get our happily ever after, with or without destiny’s approval.

  Gage

  The television flickers in the background of the family room as I lay on the couch waiting for Logan to show. Mom and Dad are at a meeting downtown, and the rain just began beating over the windows like a thousand mad men, trying to break in. It might as well be drilling into my skull, because it feels like shit knowing Logan’s out there with her, touching her, kissing those lips. I studied the picture he sent of her voluntarily disrobing for him.

  If making me feel like crap was his goal, he succeeded.

  Headlights shine through the entry, then cut out. Looks like the bastard’s home. I sit up on my elbows and take a breath. It’s not like I’m going to ask what happened, although I am a little curious if Skyla brought up the vision I was stupid enough to share. I should write a book on how to keep a girl at bay—

  The door slams so loud it sounds like a stick of dynamite detonating in the entry. Logan rushes into the room with his eyes on fire, a look to kill embedded in his face.

  Within seconds, he twists his fists into my shirt and yanks me off the couch.

  “You fucking little shit.” He grunts, pushing me up against the window.

  “Whoa…” A smile escapes my lips. “I guess Skyla told after all.”

  “You’re damn right, she did.” He slams my head against the glass so hard I brace for the shards, but the window holds its resolve. “What’s the matter? You didn’t have the balls to tell me yourself? You needed Skyla to do your dirty work for you?”

  He launches me back on the couch face first. I bounce onto my feet and hold up my hands in surrender.

  “Swear to God”—I hold back the nervous laughter already trembling from my chest—“it just came out. I’m like an idiot around her, and I didn’t even mean to say it. I was going to tell you first.”

  His chest pumps in and out. His lips twitch as he seethes in my direction. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Logan so overtly pissed before, at least not at me.