Chapter 34 #2
Logan’s jaw clenches. “A catalyst for what?”
“For erasing the right children at the right time.” Demetri’s expression turns serious, losing some of that theatrical amusement.
“You see, Candace recently discovered a rather inconvenient prophecy.” He turns my way.
“Apparently, your sister Melissa and one of your future offspring are destined to lead a revolution that will completely reshape the faction’s power structure. ”
My blood turns to ice. “What kind of revolution?”
“The kind that would undermine everything Candace has spent centuries building—namely Celestra. Her position, her influence, her carefully constructed celestial hierarchy—all of it threatened by a couple of children who haven’t even reached their full potential yet.”
“But you said you’re opposed to it,” Logan points out, confusion clear in his voice.
Demetri’s grin returns, sharp and calculating. “Because I find this prophecy rather exciting. Change can be quite beneficial when you know how to position yourself properly. Unlike Candace, I’m not particularly attached to the current power structure.”
A horrible thought occurs to me. “Demetri, the tenets of light driving—they say we can’t change anything major. That the timeline self-corrects. Is that still true?”
His expression grows grave. “I’m afraid those rules no longer apply.”
“Why the hell not?” Logan thunders.
“The tenets were broken the moment Candace all but forced you to create the anchor. Since her entire purpose for the anchor is to alter the future, the past doesn’t stand a chance of remaining the same. Changes stick now. The timeline can no longer self-correct around major or minor alterations.”
Logan closes his eyes. “So, every change we make—”
“Is permanent,” Demetri confirms. “Which is precisely why she needed you to create that anchor willingly. Your consent bound you to the new rules regardless if you understood them. Very clever, really. Diabolical, but clever.” He sighs hard.
“So, you see,” Demetri continues, rising from his chair with liquid grace, “I am for the children. Not only was I growing fond of them, but they—”
“Behoove his agenda,” Marshall cuts him off.
Logan and I lock eyes, and I can see my own horror in his face. The implication hangs between us like a sword—our children, our beautiful, innocent children, could somehow be dangerous to Celestra itself. It can’t be true.
“My mother is behind all of this wickedness.” My voice comes out tight and strained. “Misty, Eden, Jaxson, Nathan, Barron, and Sage. All wiped out. Not to mention Brielle and Drake’s family. And who knows about Wesley’s children? And my guess is that Melissa doesn’t fare all that well either.”
I fix Demetri with a pointed stare at the mention of a couple of his children, and his grin widens until it threatens to split his face in half.
“Don’t worry about Misty.” His voice drips with satisfaction. “I won’t allow her arrival to be delayed.”
Of course. The one child he truly cares about is the one he’ll conceive with my mother. Poor Wesley always gets the short end of the Edinger stick.
“And Tad’s true future?” I ask. “I’m guessing it’s not as fantastic as living on a cruise ship part-time.”
Demetri’s expression turns positively predatory with his sharp teeth and gleaming eyes. “Suffice it to say that Tad’s retirement plans may be permanently delayed.”
“You’re talking about murder.” Logan’s voice comes out flat and deadly.
“I’m talking about progress.” Demetri waves a dismissive hand. “Much like Candace, I, too, believe that on occasion the universe requires a bit of reorganization.”
Marshall’s face twists with disgust. “Reorganization. Is that what we’re calling genocide now?”
“Such harsh words.” Demetri tsks like a disappointed teacher. “I prefer to think of it as editing. Candace wants to remove certain elements from the timeline that she finds problematic. I happen to believe those elements are what make the story interesting.”
Rage builds inside me until I can barely see straight. “My children aren’t characters in some paranormal fantasy.”
“Paranormal romance,” Marshall corrects, and I shoot him a look. He shrugs. “I’m in this story. It’s a romance.”
“A love triangle,” Demetri points out. “Reverse harem, I believe they’re calling it these days.”
“Romantasy,” Logan interjects, and my mouth falls open as I gape at him. “Sorry.” He winces. “But you read widely, and you leave those books lying all over the house.”
It’s true, it’s my favorite genre.
But I digress. “My children are not characters. They’re people.”
“Indeed, they are. Remarkable people, as it turns out.” Demetri begins to pace, his cape swirling dramatically with each step.
“Your Eden has already begun manifesting abilities that rival your own. And the twins... well, let’s just say they’re going to be quite the handful when they come into their full power.
One is already showing more potential than the other.
And Sage, as you know, is a force to be reckoned with, dead or alive.
” They’re triplets, but I get it. “Jaxson can stay, too, for all I care. He brings Lizbeth joy, and me as well. And he, too, has potential, seeing that he’s pure Celestra.
For him to turn—well, that would be tragic, wouldn’t it?
There’s no telling who it will be. Nonetheless, I offer my protection to your entire brood. ”
“You’re protecting them because they’re useful to you,” I say.
“I’m protecting them because I’ve grown fond of them.” For a moment, his forced smile dissipates, revealing something that might actually be genuine affection. “Also, because erasing them would be a tragic waste of wicked potential.”
There it is.
Marshall crosses his arms. “And because it enrages Candace.”
“That’s merely a delightful bonus,” Demetri admits.
Logan’s chest rises and falls. “So let me get this straight. Candace wants to erase our children from existence, and our only ally is the devil we know?”
“I prefer misunderstood antihero,” Demetri says, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense. “But yes, that’s essentially correct.”
I shake my head, feeling like I’ve stepped into some kind of supernatural fever dream. “Oh wow,” I moan. “This is insane.”
“Welcome to my world.” Demetri spreads his arms wide, encompassing his ridiculous mansion and everything in it.
“Though I must say, your mother’s plan is rather elegant in its ruthlessness.
Let the faction war play out as originally intended.
Erase the children, restore your full power.
Perhaps she’ll even allow you to roll the celestial dice again and spawn another crop of chaos agents.
And then, of course, monitor the situation closely from there.
I suspect a lot of tragedy in their young lives should she sniff another rebellion in the air.
Although for the first set, it’s all very tidy. Very final.”
“And very wrong.” Logan’s jaw clenches so hard it threatens to break.
“Oh, absolutely,” Demetri is quick to agree. “Which is why I have no intention of allowing it to succeed.”
Marshall lifts a brow as if he’s amused. “And what exactly do you plan to do about it?”
Demetri’s grin gleams with dark promise. “Why, I plan to beat Candace at her own game, of course. After all, I’ve had centuries to perfect the art of manipulation. She might be good, but I’m better.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Comforting.”
“Isn’t it?” Demetri agrees, completely missing my sarcasm. “Now, unless you plan to stay for dinner, I suggest you return to your respective hovels and let me handle this situation. I have some very important phone calls to make. Very long distance.”
Logan growls, “We’re supposed to trust you?”
“You’re supposed to recognize that I’m the only one standing between your children and oblivion.” Demetri’s voice carries a note of steel beneath the velvet. “But by all means, if you have a better plan, I’m all ears.”
The terrible thing is, he’s right. We don’t have a better plan.
We don’t have any plan at all, except blind panic and the desperate hope that somehow, someway, we can save our children from being obliterated into nothingness.
We’re not looking for “another crop of chaos agents,” to quote Demetri; we’re looking to protect the children we already have.
I grab Logan’s arm and nod toward the door. “Let’s go. We got what we came for.”
Marshall snaps his head my way. “Have we?”
“We know where we stand.” My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears. “And apparently, we’re standing with the king of wickedness himself.”
We take off for the foyer without so much as a goodbye.
“Oh, and Skyla?” Demetri’s voice follows us, silky and dangerous. “Give my regards to your mother when you see her next. Please tell her I said hello.”
The way he says it makes every last hair on my body stand on end.
We step back out into the fog and start the journey back to where we came from, each of us lost in our own thoughts about this latest revelation.
The mist seems thicker now, and far more oppressive, as if it’s trying to put us out of our misery and smother us with its weight.
A part of me wishes it would. Death by Paragon fog. That sounds oddly poetic.
“Well,” Marshall says eventually, his voice cutting through the silence, “that was educational.”
Logan shakes his head. “That was terrifying.”
“That was necessary.” I pull my jacket tighter against the chill. “Now we know what we’re really up against.”
Sometimes the truth isn’t meant to set you free—it’s meant to show you just how trapped you really are.