I touch my shoulder blade, cringing as I think of all the times he had the chance to see the mark. "You're such an asshole."
The idea of him watching me without me knowing is too much, though. I scoop up the ring from my nightstand and slip it on.
The blonde faerie appears before me with a huge-ass smile on his face, which means I've done exactly what he wanted.
"I knew that would get to you," he says, winking at me.
Shaking him off, I climb out of bed. "You said the witch didn't take my life. How do you know that?"
He rolls his eyes, his head bobbing back as he groans with irritation. "You know what? I'm kind of getting sick and tired of answering your questions. I'm still really upset with you for taking the ring off and leaving me in the dark by myself." He juts out his lip, faking a pout. "I get lonely."
"Sorry," I mutter a half-ass apology. "Now, can you please just answer my question without complicating things even more?"
His frowns, looking dejected. "Okay, I will, but no more taking the ring off."
The sadness and loneliness in his voice makes me feel a tad bit sorry for him, which makes me feel guilty when I lie to him, but not enough to stop myself "All right," I say. "I'll keep the ring on. Now fess up. What do you know?"
"The witch can't take your life," he says, moving in front of me. "Because your life isn't yours to take."
A pucker forms at my brow. "I'm not sure I'm following you."
When he sits down on the bed and pats the mattress, I hesitantly take a seat next to him.
"No one can just take your life," he explains, "not without taking someone else's along with it."
"You mean Alex's?" Saying his name aloud causes a deep longing to form in the pit of my stomach. I miss him so much. His touch. The sound of his voice. The way he makes me feel safe. His kisses. The way he makes me feel . . .
"You two both have to die together," he says then grins. "Which, if I'm remembering correctly, you eventually will."
I remember all the times either Alex or I have almost died, but death never completely happened, either because we woke up or one of us did something crazy like changed a vision to bring the other back. So many times, we should've been dead, yet as far as I know, we're both still breathing.
"Is it because of the star?" I ask. "Is that why we have to die together?"
"That, and the Blood Promise you two made," he says with a shrug. "You two are linked together so wholly you're practically one person." His expression hardens as if he just realized the truth of his own words. "The witch might have stolen some of your life, but you'll be fine." He shrugs again, like there you go.
"What about . . . ?" I trail off, looking down at my stomach.
He plays dumb. "What about what?"
I sigh, already getting a headache. "You know what."
He taps his finger against his lips, shaking his head. "I do?"
I press my fingers to the brim of my nose, knowing it's a lost cause. "So, what happens if one of us actually dies?" I change the subject, hoping Aislin returns soon so we can figure out what's going on inside me, and so maybe, just maybe I can relax. "And I mean, really dies, like forever."
"You won't." He rests back on his hands, his gaze fastened on the boarded window. "You both have to go down together; otherwise, you'll come right back to life."
Hope rises in me that maybe there's a chance Alex and I can make it out of this alive.
"Don't get too excited. You're both going to die soon. Remember the lake?" he says, being his typical killjoy self.
I scowl at him. "Does Alex know about this death thing?"
Nicholas gives a nonchalant shrug. "Who the fuck knows what kind of stuff he's got locked away inside that messed up mind of his? Just think of all the lies he's told you."
"You calling Alex a liar is like the pot calling the kettle black."
He smirks. "I guess it kind of is."
Normally, I'd be upset with him, but I just found out Alex is alive. I was worried something might have happened to him, but if what Nicholas is saying is true, he has to be alive since I am.
Then another thought cross my mind, and my elation plummets. If we're alive, then Stephan can open the portal. It's only through our deaths that the world can be saved.
So, why do my nightmares contradict all of this? Why do I keep dreaming of my funeral that Alex attends while he's alive?
I get out of bed and head for the door.
"Where are you going?" Nicholas calls out after me.
Ignoring him, I go downstairs to the kitchen to find Laylen.
"I'm going to be okay," I announce, startling him from his endeavor at making grilled cheese sandwiches.
His gaze drops to my stomach. "You mean, you're not . . ." He trails off, shifting uncomfortably then focusing on flipping over the sandwiches on the griddle.
I hate that this has created awkwardness between us. I don't even completely understand why it's happening. Or maybe, deep down, I do get it. Perhaps part of me has always wondered if I should be with Laylen. Perhaps it's the same way for him, and now he knows the answer.
"No, it's not that. I still don't know what's going on with me and . . . that . . ." I place my hand on my stomach. "I just know that everything is going to be fine with the whole witch-taking-my-life thing. I'm not going to die yet. I can't."
He turns to me with a furrow in his brows and the spatula in his hand. "What? Huh?"
I sigh and open my mouth to explain to him what Nicholas just told me, but I'm cut off when Aislin materializes in the middle of the kitchen. She has a brown paper bag in her hand, and her eyes are wide, as if she just escaped something horrifying.
"Are you okay?" Laylen asks her worriedly.
She nods, setting the bag down on the table. "It's just crazy out there." She slips off her jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair before taking a deep whiff of the air. "Wait, are you cooking?"
Laylen glances at the sandwiches on the griddle. "Attempting to."
"Yummy." She wags a finger sternly at me. "I thought I told you to lie down and rest."
"I was," I tell her, "but I just learned something that might help everything relax a little."
She lowers into a chair, her face twisted in confusion. "Okay . . . ? What is it?"
I explain to them everything Nicholas told me while I was upstairs. By the time I'm finished, Laylen has finished cooking, and we're diving into out grilled cheese sandwiches "So, Alex is okay, then?" Aislin asks, looking more relaxed than she has for the last couple of weeks.
I nod, taking a bite of my gooey sandwich, which tastes freaking amazing. "He is, if what faerie boy said is true."
Her mouth sinks to a frown. "How do we know he's not just being . . . well, you know, himself? He might be feeding you bullshit."
I shrug, picking the crust off the bread. "We don't know for sure, but I don't know; it kind of makes sense. I mean, how many times have we both almost died, yet we miraculously came back to life?"
"She makes a good point." Laylen rips his sandwich in half. "Still, whether Nicholas is being truthful or not, I think you should take the ring off and take a break from him. It's not healthy to be around his constant, twenty-four seven mind-fucking."
"It doesn't do any good just to take the ring off," I explain, internally cringing. "He can still talk to me. And his voice is the most annoying part of him. Plus, I don't feel comfortable not being able to see him when he can still see me. All the time," I press.
Aislin's face contorts in disgust. "Oh, my God, that's so disgusting," she mutters, pushing her plate away. "I think I just lost my appetite."
Laylen balls his hands into fists. "If you want, I can take care of him," he offers. "We don't really need him around, do we?"
"We actually might." I graze my finger across the purple stone on the ring. "So far, he's the only ghost I've seen. Somehow, he's got to play a part in fixing the apocalyptic mess. Besides, you can't actually touch him since his body is not
hing but air."
He reaches over and taps the ring on my finger. "Maybe I should put this on and see if I can see him." He pops his knuckles, acting as my protector, which makes me smile. "We could have a nice, long chat about how he needs to back the fuck off."
I pat his arm. "Thanks for the offer, but chatting with him will only make him act like more of a creeper probably."
"I agree with Gemma, and I think we need to stop focusing on Nicholas so much. We have so many other problems," Aislin says with excitement sparkling in her eyes. "Speaking of which; I almost perfected the Scutum Distillans spell."
"Is that the shield lowering spell thing? The one that will help us be able to . . . well, you know, kill Stephan despite his immortality?" I stuff the rest of the sandwich into my mouth and wipe my fingers on a napkin.
She nods, picking up her previously discarded sandwich and taking a bite of it. "I only need one more ingredient before I should be able to pull off the spell. Then we can drop the Shield Spell from my father and attack him."
I rub my hands up and down my arms, trying to erase the goose bumps. The idea of simply attacking Stephan and his army of Death Walkers seems scary, even if he's killable, because it means risking my life and the lives of the people I care for greatly . . . who mean everything to me . . . who I . . .
Who you what, Gemma? Do I feel it yet? That emotion burning on the tip of my tongue?
"What's the last ingredient you need?" I scoot my empty plate out of the way.
She sulks as she stares down at the half-eaten grilled cheese. "More power."
"I know where you could get some of that." Laylen elbows me and winks, trying to lighten the mood.
Abruptly, Aislin stands from the table, puts her plate in the sink, and then picks up the brown paper bag. "You need to come with me," she says, motioning me to follow her as she whisks out of the room.
I glance at Laylen who shrugs. "I have no idea what she's up to," he says.
"She seemed kind of upset. She's not still mad about the . . . incident between us, is she? Because it really meant nothing."
"If she is, she'll get over it eventually."
"You should be more sympathetic." I pinch his arm and scowl.
"Ow." He laughs, rubbing his arm. "I don't even get what the big deal is. We just fell asleep together, and it was completely accidental."
"You should make it up to her," I suggest. "Do something nice."
"And you should go see what she wants before she gets even more upset." He smiles at me, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes Getting up from the table, I leave the kitchen to go find Aislin and spot her waiting for me near the downstairs bathroom of all places.
"Look, if this is about the other night, you should know we didn't mean to fall asleep," I tell her.
She appears briefly puzzled, but then it clicks. "You two need to stop stressing about that," she says, waving me off. "We've talked enough that I know you and Laylen are just friends." With a small smile on her face, she hands over the brown bag. "Even though you can't admit it yet, I know your heart belongs to my brother."
My heart misses a beat, and my chest swells with a feeling I don't think I've ever experienced. How can she know that when I don't even know for sure?
"What's in here?" I change the subject, staring down at the bag in my hand.
"That's going to help us solve the mystery of"--she gives a pressing glance at my stomach--"what the hell is going on inside your cute, little belly."
I open the bag and peer inside. "What the . . . ?" My head whips up at her. "A pregnancy test?"
"What'd you think it was going to be?"
"I don't know. Some kind of witchy thing, maybe."
Her brows arch. "Like a witchy pregnancy device?"
I shrug, feeling stupid and naive. "I have no idea . . ." I clutch the bag. "I've never had to deal with this before."
"I know. And I know it's scary." She pats my shoulder, trying to be encouraging. "But no matter what, everything will be okay. You're not in this alone."
"Thanks." Sucking in an extremely large amount of oxygen, I step into the bathroom and lock the door behind me.
Since I've never done a pregnancy test before, I have to read the instructions, which seem pretty simple, yet doing the test itself just about does a number on my nerves. I nearly start bawling as I wait to see if either one or two lines appear. It takes several minutes longer than the instructions say, and I grow worried that perhaps the energy of the star inside me is causing the test not to work properly. Then I begin to wonder if I've lost my damn mind thinking such ridiculous thoughts. I'm still human, at least mostly, so of course the test is going to work the same.
But in the end, I end up holding a test with an extremely faded pink blur as I walk out of the bathroom.
Aislin is leaning against the wall, waiting nervously for me. When she sees me, she stiffens. "So . . . ?" She glances down at the test in my hand. "What'd it say?"
I shrug then hand her the stick. "It might be a dud. Either that or it doesn't work on me."
"It could be faulty. That does happen sometimes," she mumbles, studying the stick.
I wonder if she knows all about this stuff because she's had to deal with it before.
"Well, I guess I'll just have to get another one, and then we'll find out." She gives me back the stick then heads for the kitchen. "Come on. Let's go tell Laylen. I know he's probably stressing out."
"Over this?" I ask. "Why?"
"Because it's a lot to deal with."
"It is," I say, swallowing hard. "When I first heard the heartbeat, I thought . . . Well, it scared the shit out of me."
"Oh, Gemma." She turns around and hugs me, throwing me completely off guard. "You're going to get through this, no matter what the next test says."
"Thanks." I awkwardly hug her back. "And I mean that. Thanks for everything."
"You, too." She pulls away, smiling. "Now, come on. Let's get this figured out." She grabs my hand and tows me into the kitchen, but then releases her hold on me. "Where'd he go?"
I look around the empty room. "Maybe upstairs?"
She backs for the doorway. "You sit down and rest, and I'll go find him. When I get back, I'll make another trip to the store."
Before I can say anything else, she hurries out of the room, leaving me with nothing but the quiet. At first, I enjoy the silence until I detect the quietest beat of a heart.
The longer I listen to it, the more I just know the test had to be faulty. There's definitely something inside me, and for some crazy, unexplainable reason, I have the strongest urge to protect it.
This isn't just about Alex and me living anymore. It's about Alex, me, and our unborn child. That's what I want. If only I could figure out how to make it happen.
It isn't like I haven't tried. I've tried repeatedly, but every path I take seems to have a loophole or a severe, more damaging consequence. Change a vision and I mess up the world more. Kill Stephan and Demetrius can still survive and go through the plan. I could kill all of them, including every last Death Walker, but the only way that would be possible is to create my own army that doesn't include Alex, Laylen, Aislin, and the human being I somehow know is growing inside me.
A cool breeze appears out of nowhere, and a moment later, I hear heavy breathing from right behind me.
"Go away, Nicholas," I say, slumping back in the chair with a heavy sigh. "That is, unless you're ready to tell me what the ring's for."
Silence is my only answer.
I glance around at the kitchen, the locked back door, and the boarded windows. No one seems to be around, but the stillness makes me restless. I get up and peek in the living room with the strangest feeling someone's watching me, but I can't see anyone anywhere.
Scratching my head, I turn back, and my body instantly smacks into something. I quickly scoot away, blinking.
My hands fall to my side as my jaw smacks the floor at the sight of the ghost in front of me, a ghost that has brown hair, b
lue eyes, and features similar to mine.
"No . . . no . . . no . . ." No matter how many times I try to deny what's in front of me, the truth remains standing there, raw and brutal like a punch to the jaw. "Mom?"
A sad smile touches her face. "Gemma, I'm so sorry"
GEMMA
I shake my head in denial, blinking my eyes, doing everything in my power to make this horrible nightmare end.
"You're not dead. You can't be."
"Gemma, sweetie," my mom says, still standing in front of me. "There's no point wasting time trying to deny what's right in front you. We don't have time for that."
I want to cry. Scream. Yell.
"But you can't be dead. I-I barely had time to get to know you."
"I have to be dead," she says solemnly. "Otherwise, he would've used me to get to you."
I don't need to ask who he is.
"Stephan," I bite his name out like it's poison to my tongue. "He did this to you?"
She shakes her head, sighing exhaustedly. "I did it to myself." She traces her finger along the inside of her wrist where the Mark of Malefiscus used to be. "I had to, or I'd have led Stephan straight to you." Her hand falls to her side. "It was supposed to be this way. I don't belong here, never have. I was always supposed to be part of death, whether it was in The Underworld or in the Afterlife as a ghost."
The pain is so unbearable, so lung crushing, so breath stopping, so heart dying. Everyone is gone. My dad is locked up in his own mind, maybe forever. Alex is gone to who knows where. And now my mom is dead.
My hands tremble as my stomach winds into knots. "How did . . . how did you . . . die?"
She presses her lips together, and without saying anything, she wanders into the kitchen and takes a seat at the table. "That doesn't matter. What does is that I'm here to help you."
Tears sting my eyes. I want to hug her, but it's not possible. The loneliness that possessed me for most of my life is resurfacing, and I don't know what to do with it. I don't know how to breathe, don't know how to keep going when everything around me seems to be ending.
With wobbly legs, I join her at the table, taking a seat in the chair across from her. "Help me with what? Saving the world?"
"I'm here to help you figure out what you're supposed to do." Her gaze zeroes in on the ring on my finger. "I'm here to help you use that."
I cover the ring with my hand. "I don't want you to help me with that." Hot tears spill down my cheeks, even though I try to fight them back. "What I want is for you to return to your body and keep living."