Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Ethereal Knights

Addison Moore




  Table of Contents

  Title page

  Prologue

  The Day Before

  1

  Pleased to Meet You

  2

  My Happily Ever After, My Forever

  3

  One and the Same

  4

  Secrets and Soulmates

  5

  The Bloody Party

  6

  My Girl

  7

  Poetry in Motion

  8

  Revelation

  9

  Picking up Steam

  10

  Too Hot to Handle

  11

  Love Hurts

  12

  The Truth in Pieces

  13

  The Battle Standard

  14

  A Kiss for You, A Kiss for Me

  15

  Set My Heart on Fire

  16

  Butterfly Kisses

  17

  Light Drive

  18

  A Single Strand of Silver

  19

  Lock Down

  20

  See You in My Dreams

  21

  Pushing Through

  22

  It’s Only the Beginning

  Bonus Chapter

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  A point of view novel: Ethereal rewritten through Logan and Gage’s perspective.

  Copyright © 2013 by Addison Moore

  Editor: Jess Moore

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author.

  Books by Addison Moore

  Ethereal

  (Celestra Series Book 1)

  Tremble

  (Celestra Series Book 2)

  Burn

  (Celestra Series Book 3)

  Wicked

  (Celestra Series Book 4)

  Vex

  (Celestra Series Book 5)

  Expel

  (Celestra Series Book 6)

  Toxic Part One

  (Celestra Series Book 7)

  Toxic Part Two

  (Celestra Series Book 7.5)

  Ethereal Knights

  (Celestra Knights)

  Ephemeral

  (The Countenance 1)

  Someone to Love

  To my wonderful readers.

  Thank you for loving the Olivers as much as I do.

  This one’s for you.

  Prologue

  Gage

  The Day Before

  Summer storm.

  The house lights flicker as I make my way downstairs where I find Logan, leaning against the fridge, downing milk straight from the carton.

  “Morning.” I gravel it out. The window above the sink quivers as it takes a beating from the driving rain. A bolt of lightning crackles through the sky, spraying its tendrils out across Paragon in one terrifying fit of glory. I glance back at Logan with his blonde hair slicked back, his sleepy smile. “I dreamed about your ugly ass last night.”

  “Did you get hard-on? Because if you did, I’ll have to knife your balls off.”

  “It was a vision.” I stamp it out and watch as his eyes widen. His demeanor grows all too serious on a dime.

  “What’s going to happen?” Gone is the sarcastic bastard I know and love, replaced with a vulnerable boy locked in a trancelike state, waiting on pins and needles to see if there’s good news on the horizon.

  I haven’t shared a vision in ages, especially not one that concerns Logan. It’s no wonder the idea sobered him up.

  “It was more informative than visual.” I try to sound casual while popping a slice of bread into the toaster. The truth is, there was something about that prophecy that felt more like a night terror. It jarred me. “It was dark.” I shrug. “I saw you and the shadow of this girl.” I glance over at him as his eyebrows twitch with curiosity. “She was Celestra, like you.” It would be a miracle to meet another Celestra, let alone an estrogen carrying card member. The last Celestra we knew of the female persuasion was Chloe, and that ended with Logan’s heart slashed and hung from a tree. Unfortunately, not long after that, and for far more mysterious reasons, Chloe ended up dead in a ditch.

  He steps in close with his chest pumping like he’s just run a marathon.

  “Was she hot?” Logan doesn’t take those dark saffron eyes off me.

  The hint of a smile plays on my face, but I refuse to give it.

  “From what I could see, I think she was hot. Again, it was dark. But apparently you two have some kind of future together according to the last tidbit of information that was revealed.”

  “Which is?” Logan doesn’t blink or breathe because he knows this could damn well mean life or death. Most Celestra are killed before they can procreate, and for good reason—they hold too much value in the Nephilim world.

  “You’re going to live.” I say it low as if it weren’t good news at all. “Both you and she will live to a ripe old age.” I press out a congratulatory smile.

  Logan doesn’t move a muscle, just continues his stony gaze, trying to drink it all down. “Is she going to love me?” The whites of his eyes ignite in an explosion of crimson. His heavyhearted reaction startles me. Logan has no shortage of girls who “love” him, but I know where he’s going with this. I’ve dreamed for years of the girl I’m meant to be with. I’ve mentioned her on one too many occasions, and he’s busted my balls enough about it. But now it’s his turn, and he wants the clues to his future—to this mysterious Celestra that’s most likely going to age right alongside him.

  “I’d bet money that’s the plan.” I nod into him and unleash a satisfied smile.

  He lets out a breath that sails past me like a hurricane.

  “Did you dream about your girl last night?” He slaps me on the shoulder, relieved from his reaper reprieve.

  “Nope. Not in a while.” And oddly, I miss this girl I’ve yet to meet. She haunts my dreams, my waking hours, and I long to know her once and for all in the flesh.

  He broadens his chest while looking out at the blurred world beyond the window.

  “A ripe old age, huh? And a girl?” He shakes his head as if he just won the lottery and, in a way, he has. “Dude, I’m giving you the whole fucking day off.”

  “Nah, I need the hours.” I head to the fridge and pull out a soda.

  Logan taps the top of the doorframe with his rocketing elation as he heads out of the kitchen. “Hey, Gage?”

  “What?”

  “Wouldn’t it be funny if your dream girl and mine were one in the same?”

  A dull laugh rattles through my chest. “You’d have a war on your hands like you wouldn’t believe.” I raise my drink toward him. “You’d be going down, buddy.”

  Logan barks out a laugh as he snaps his keys off the table.

  “I always win, Gage.” He opens the front door, and a gust of wind blows my father’s periodicals right off the table. “See you at the bowling alley.”

  I always win. I stifle a laugh. Not if my dream girl were on the line.

  He wouldn’t win then—that’s a promise.

  1

  Logan

  Pleased to Meet You

  Gage strides into the bowling alley right on time, even though I told him he didn’t have to show.

  I glance over at the old, dilapidated kitchen where the floor is splitting in three places just shy of the walk-in fridge. This place is due for an overhaul. The bowling alley is the one last relic that remains of my parents, but in the
end, it’s a mixed blessing to have it.

  Outside the window, the puddles in the parking lot are starting to dry up. It rained three days straight—then, like some kind of miracle, it finally let off.

  I toss the coins into the register, steady as a metallic waterfall.

  Pennies. That’s all I’ll have to show for this place if business doesn’t pick up.

  A chattering whirlwind bursts through the entry. I glance up to find Brielle buzzing her way over. Looks like she’s brought company, so I guess I’m supplying free shoes, ten rounds, and probably a well-catered lunch, all on my dime. Brielle has a running tab six years in the making. In addition to that, I pay her to hang out and talk on the phone. I don’t mind, though. I’ve known Bree since preschool. I’d trust her with every dollar I’ve got, which isn’t many. Not to mention, at this point, I’d pay half the town to patronize this place if I could, just so it doesn’t feel like the ghost town it is half the time.

  My eyes shift over to the girl chatting with Brielle. Long blonde hair, a banging body—perfect face—eyes as bright as diamonds.

  A hot bite of perspiration cuts through me.

  Holy shit.

  I’ve been around plenty of girls, and not one of them has ever made me sweat. But this one—she’s got me shaking before we ever exchange hellos.

  The girl with the crystal eyes spears me with a look that says, I eat scum like you for breakfast. Not that I’d stop her. Hell—I’d encourage it.

  My lips curve at the thought of her teeth digging into me. Just the idea of those mouthwatering lips melting over my skin like sugar sets off an entire litany of X-rated thoughts, far too fantastic for this early in the afternoon.

  Brielle leads her toward a table, and I intersect before they take a seat.

  “Bree.” I grin over at the girl standing by her side.

  Brielle rolls her eyes. She knows damn well it’s not her attention I’m after.

  Gage pops up next to me, expanding his chest like a gorilla in heat. I can tell he’s interested, but he’d better back off. Prepubescent boys need not apply. This one’s all mine.

  “Guys, this is Skyla.” Brielle ticks into the girl with a shy smile. “She’s moving into Chloe’s old house. Skyla, these are the knuckleheads I work with, Logan and Gage.” She waves her hands over Gage and me as if she were gifting us to her—another thing I wouldn’t mind, with the exception of Gage. Then again, the way he bats off girls waiting for “the one” to show up makes me wonder if he’s switched teams.

  Brielle laughs. She might very well be going on about something, but all I hear is the equivalent of a power mower. I’m too damn busy enjoying the Skyla view. I’ve never seen lips that full. The small dimple hedging in her cheek has me ticking to life in my boxers.

  “Skyla?” Gage takes up her hand and pants into her like a puppy. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was trying to entrance her with his soot-covered hair, those electric blue eyes.

  Crap.

  “Gage Oliver.” He leans in, never dipping his gaze to her cleavage like a good little Boy Scout.

  He’s got self-control, I’ll give him that.

  Skyla—I want to say it—feel it on my tongue. I’m half afraid I’ll shout it out in an uncalled-for fit of delirium. Someone like Skyla has the power to make my voice break like a twelve-year-old. I’m pretty sure I’d let her break me anytime she wanted in much more creative ways than that. The nightly possibilities I’m going to have with this one are staggering. I think I’ve just met the star of all my best future wet dreams, live and in-person.

  But for now, it’s time to stomp Gage and his affections out like an unwanted kitchen fire.

  “You have a very unique name. It’s beautiful,” I say, carefully plucking Gage off and replacing his death grip with mine. Reading her thoughts is just a pleasant Celestra side effect of holding her hand. Besides, it’s painfully obvious to everyone in the room that Gage is all worked up over our new friend here. I’ll have to push him into the pool later to cool him off—maybe hold him under a few extra seconds until all thoughts of hitting on my future girlfriend fully dissipate.

  She digs a half-smile into her cheek, and my stomach twists like a tangle of bungee cords.

  I bring her hand to my lips, press her warm flesh to my mouth, and linger in a moment of sexual euphoria like I’ve never experienced before.

  “Logan Oliver.” I over-annunciate to let both her and Gage know I’m the only Oliver she needs to direct her interests toward.

  “Oh, so you’re brothers?” She bites the inside of her lip and pivots, looking cute as hell in the process. Skyla manages to look smolderingly sexy and adorable all in a single bound.

  They look nothing alike, she thinks to herself while inspecting the two of us. Or maybe they’re stepbrothers? Mothers marrying morons is on the rise.

  I give a private smile.

  I take it she doesn’t like the moron her mother married.

  Skyla turns into me with a look that renders me shaking like a virgin on prom night, and I swallow hard.

  “Cousins.” I nod over toward Gage. “I live with them.” I lay my other hand over hers in the event she’s willing to divulge a full evaluation of the two of us. “My parents are both deceased.”

  Shit. Did I just go there? I’m pretty sure there’s no quicker way to kill a conversation than dragging in your dead relatives.

  Skyla’s cheeks flare up like a pair of ripe plums.

  Perfect. She’ll be bolting for the exit in less than five.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She steps in with her eyes hooded low, the affect melting from her face. “My dad died, too.”

  Fuck.

  I place her hand gently by her side and take her in with this newfound sadness exuding from her—from both of us. She’s not just a body, not just a beautiful face—she’s a person who loved someone and lost them, just like I did.

  My heart breaks for her. There’s no greater pain than losing a parent. I want to let her know I’m here for her, that I’d gladly shield her from this horrible world. Maybe I can help her heal—maybe she can help heal me. I don’t remember my parents, but there’s a hole in my heart they left behind and innately I know the world spins a little different because they’re no longer in it.

  “Sorry,” I whisper, absorbing her with wonder before she decides to bolt for safety. I want to memorize her, etch her into my grey matter and save her for later. It takes all of my self-control not to wrap my arms around her and console her the way I want to.

  I took a perfectly good moment and ruined it. I’ll be the downer she does her best to avoid. Can’t run a business, can’t get the girl. I’m on a real fucking streak.

  I walk us over to a table with Gage plodding alongside us like an unwanted five-year-old. I’ll have to manufacture a task for him if I catch him showing another ounce of interest. The last thing Gage and I need is to be competing for the same girl.

  Gage swipes the seat across from Skyla and leans in—turns on those baby blues in an effort to jockey for her attention.

  Guess Gage just put himself in the game, which is completely fine because everybody needs to learn to deal with a broken heart at some point in the their lives. Too bad it’s with Skyla. Once we’re together, there’s going to be weirdness between Gage and me.

  I offer a complacent smile in his direction, encouraging him to go on with his suicide plunge.

  “So you’re a junior?” He knocks on the table like he’s demanding an answer.

  I’ll have to give him a few pointers later on how to get the girl—all bad and fruitless, of course—like write her a poem. Nothing says stalker like poetry.

  “Yup.” She bites down on those perfect lips, and my insides explode. “And you guys?”

  “We’re all juniors!” Brielle shakes her as if we’ve won the scholastic lottery. I swear that girl is on some wild shit half the time. Nobody walks around that psyched up to be alive twenty-four seven.

  Skyla looks ove
r at Bree like she’s lost it. She glares into her with an unnatural curiosity as if she were reading her mind.

  “So tell me about Chloe.” Skyla takes us all in. It comes out interrogating— surprises the hell out me, and for a minute, I wonder if she’s the second coming. Although, in this altered state, I think I could almost forgive Chloe of all her trespasses.

  A surge of anger courses through me. Just the thought of Chloe Bishop makes my blood boil. That was the first and last time I’ll ever be used by anybody.

  I glance back over at Skyla.

  Although, I’d make an exception for her if I had to.

  I’d break every rule in the book for her.

  Gage

  The frozen night air hits me with a blast as I exit the bowling alley.

  I drag myself through the dark parking lot after a long day working with my “boss,” whose head is swollen to the size of a watermelon from the special attention he scored from Brielle’s new friend, Skyla—my Skyla.

  The girl from my dreams is here, and I’ve already managed to give Logan all the leeway he needs to have her for himself. Although, that’s not what I remember from the visions. It looks like the powers-that-be left out one seemingly important detail—she wouldn’t be interested in me.

  I’m hoping Brielle will bring her around again so I can get to know her better.

  A pair of headlights barrel in my direction, and I jump out of the way as a bright red jeep nearly runs me over.

  Speaking of the speed demon.

  Brielle bounces out of the driver’s side with her hair in a wild shag.

  “God, I almost hit you! Sorry—I’m freaking late for my shift!”

  “No, its okay. I was just heading back in myself,” I say as my feet move toward the entrance. Change of plans.

  “Are you pulling a double?” Her face contorts like she’s in pain.