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Authors: Addison Moore
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order of earthbound angels.” He nods. “They have the ability to rule and other amazing gifts that have left them the most loathed faction this side of the universe.”
“Loathed, as in hated?” She glares over at me as if I’d personally put her in this predicament—and maybe in a way, I did.
“Yes”—Barron continues unfazed by the horror on her face—“they’re also nearly extinct. Then there’s the Countenance faction—we refer to them as the Counts for short. They cover the earth like vermin, demanding money from everyone like the world owes it to them.”
“Sounds like a twisted form of government.” Skyla relaxes against me.
“Oh, they have their claws in that, too,” he assures. “They’re everywhere.”
“So why are the Celestra nearly extinct?” Skyla is catching on quickly, and she’s beginning to smell the danger.
Barron and I exchange looks.
“Because, my love”—Barron leans in to make his point—“the Counts have made it their mission to have them eradicated.”
Skyla spears me with a look. Her thoughts spin out of control, splintering into a tornado of worry, of fury, a palpable fear that makes me regret ever mentioning the word Nephilim in her presence. She darts her gaze to the four corners of the room. We’ve caged her in with the truth, and now there’s no escape. We could never undo the damage, never take back the reality she’s been a part of all along.
“Do I have a mark on my head?” She clutches onto me as if she’s afraid she’ll float away, drift into yet another reality that’s even darker than this one. “Did they kill my dad? Your parents?”
Shit.
I glance up at Barron and beg him not to do it. I’m officially putting a moratorium on any crap that flies from my mouth concerning the factions and the body count they tend to elicit.
“Yes.” Barron answers without skipping a beat. “Mostly likely yes, and definitely yes.” He looks over at her from the top of his glasses. “Once Logan’s parents produced a near pure Celestra, they couldn’t let them breed anymore.” Barron nods as though it were the most banal truth, and in our world it more than is. One; Celestra is fucking unlucky. And two; A pair of Celestra declaring their love for one another are nothing less than damned—living on the fumes of their existence until the Counts decide to pull the plug.
“And my dad?” Skyla touches her chest. Her father’s image filters through her mind in a series of precious memories. Her love for him floods her emotions as her eyes moisten with tears.
“He produced you.” Barron gives a solemn nod. “But there’s also the chance he was killed for his standing. You mentioned your sister doesn’t seem to have this?”
She shakes her head. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t. I’ve tested her on many occasions, holding her hand while thinking the most outlandish things, just trying to get a rise out of her. If she can hear me, and she’s hiding the fact, she deserves an Oscar every year for the rest of her life.
“Perhaps the Counts don’t know about you yet.” Barron looks unconvinced of this. As if he were merely trying to calm her when both he and I know this is nothing short of a lie. “But they will. They have a strong sense of smell when it comes to these things. Don’t be remiss, they will kill if they feel you’re a threat.”
“Well, I’m not a threat.” A smile appears and disappears from her lips.
“You might be.” He taps her on the head and offers a sad smile in my direction before leaving the room.
“Is everything going to be okay, Logan?” Skyla looks up at me as if she would believe anything I said. I try to figure out a way to sugarcoat the truth but come up with nothing but a stack of lies.
I touch my fingers to the soft skin of her cheek and soak in her beauty, her innocence. Everything in me wants to protect Skyla. No matter what it costs, no matter how many sacrifices have to be made, I promise to
“Loathed, as in hated?” She glares over at me as if I’d personally put her in this predicament—and maybe in a way, I did.
“Yes”—Barron continues unfazed by the horror on her face—“they’re also nearly extinct. Then there’s the Countenance faction—we refer to them as the Counts for short. They cover the earth like vermin, demanding money from everyone like the world owes it to them.”
“Sounds like a twisted form of government.” Skyla relaxes against me.
“Oh, they have their claws in that, too,” he assures. “They’re everywhere.”
“So why are the Celestra nearly extinct?” Skyla is catching on quickly, and she’s beginning to smell the danger.
Barron and I exchange looks.
“Because, my love”—Barron leans in to make his point—“the Counts have made it their mission to have them eradicated.”
Skyla spears me with a look. Her thoughts spin out of control, splintering into a tornado of worry, of fury, a palpable fear that makes me regret ever mentioning the word Nephilim in her presence. She darts her gaze to the four corners of the room. We’ve caged her in with the truth, and now there’s no escape. We could never undo the damage, never take back the reality she’s been a part of all along.
“Do I have a mark on my head?” She clutches onto me as if she’s afraid she’ll float away, drift into yet another reality that’s even darker than this one. “Did they kill my dad? Your parents?”
Shit.
I glance up at Barron and beg him not to do it. I’m officially putting a moratorium on any crap that flies from my mouth concerning the factions and the body count they tend to elicit.
“Yes.” Barron answers without skipping a beat. “Mostly likely yes, and definitely yes.” He looks over at her from the top of his glasses. “Once Logan’s parents produced a near pure Celestra, they couldn’t let them breed anymore.” Barron nods as though it were the most banal truth, and in our world it more than is. One; Celestra is fucking unlucky. And two; A pair of Celestra declaring their love for one another are nothing less than damned—living on the fumes of their existence until the Counts decide to pull the plug.
“And my dad?” Skyla touches her chest. Her father’s image filters through her mind in a series of precious memories. Her love for him floods her emotions as her eyes moisten with tears.
“He produced you.” Barron gives a solemn nod. “But there’s also the chance he was killed for his standing. You mentioned your sister doesn’t seem to have this?”
She shakes her head. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t. I’ve tested her on many occasions, holding her hand while thinking the most outlandish things, just trying to get a rise out of her. If she can hear me, and she’s hiding the fact, she deserves an Oscar every year for the rest of her life.
“Perhaps the Counts don’t know about you yet.” Barron looks unconvinced of this. As if he were merely trying to calm her when both he and I know this is nothing short of a lie. “But they will. They have a strong sense of smell when it comes to these things. Don’t be remiss, they will kill if they feel you’re a threat.”
“Well, I’m not a threat.” A smile appears and disappears from her lips.
“You might be.” He taps her on the head and offers a sad smile in my direction before leaving the room.
“Is everything going to be okay, Logan?” Skyla looks up at me as if she would believe anything I said. I try to figure out a way to sugarcoat the truth but come up with nothing but a stack of lies.
I touch my fingers to the soft skin of her cheek and soak in her beauty, her innocence. Everything in me wants to protect Skyla. No matter what it costs, no matter how many sacrifices have to be made, I promise to
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