I shrug and then explain to her in detail what little I know, hoping she’ll have a magical solution to fix this. I can tell though, by the time that I’m finished explaining stuff to her that she’s as lost as I am on what we should do,.
“I can’t believe she attacked you.” She sinks down on a chair in the corner near the door that leads to the back.
“Why?” I ask, leaning in so that my hip is against Gemma’s leg, if for no other reason than because I desperately need to touch her. I get a nip of sparks, but softer than usual. “She’s possessed by evil. It’d be weird if she didn’t attack me.”
“I know, but…” she mulls over something deeply. “It’s just crazy. I mean the mark… it’s only supposed to show up on those that are evil.”
“She said she had evil blood in her,” I explain. “But I’m guessing that’s the words of our father, not her.”
She pulls a hesitant face. “How can you be sure, though? I mean, we hardly know anything about her family… her mother was so secretive about her father. For all we know, he could be Malefiscus.”
“Watch it,” I warn. “Don’t you dare go there.”
She slumps back in the chair and puts her arms on the armrests. “I have to because you’re sure as hell not going to. You never think clearly when it comes to her.”
I want to yell at her and deny what she’s saying, but the truth is, I don’t have a clear head when it comes to Gemma. Between my lust, befuddled emotions, and the sparks all connected to her, my head’s foggy every time she’s near me. It f**king sucks, yet at the same time, I like the feeling of no control…. I’m extremely conflicted.
“So do you think you can figure out a spell to take the mark off her arm?” I ask, changing the subject as Gemma lets out a loud exhale, trying to roll on her side in her sleep. The binds around her legs and one of her arms restrain her from moving too much, though, and she ends up on her back again.
“Well, I might have,” Aislin says, impatiently tapping her foot on the floor, “if your ex-girlfriend hadn’t stolen my spell book. I mean, what the hell was that about? She’s not even a witch.” She mutters something under her breath, shaking her head in annoyance. “You know, I’ve always hated Stasha.”
“You and everyone else,” I tell her. “Including me.”
“Then why did you date her?”
“Why does anyone date anyone? Because they’re bored.”
“That logic is a little misconstrued, Alex,” she says with a sigh. “Jesus, you’re so messed up sometimes.” She rubs her hand across her face as she thinks for what feels like hours when in reality it’s probably just a few minutes. She glances at Gemma then gets up from the chair, walks over to the bed, and examines her. “I’m surprised you used your little gift on her.”
“I didn’t want to,” I say, getting to my feet and wandering to the other side of the bed to stroke Gemma’s cheek with my finger. “But it was my only choice.”
“Yeah, but it’s her… despite how you act, when it comes to Gemma, you’ve always been… How do I put this? …kinder than you are to most people.”
My initial instinct is to argue, but deep down I know she’s right. “There’s nothing wrong with being nice sometimes,” I say defensively. I then trace a line down the palm of my hand, remembering when we made the promise in a desperate act to hold onto our friendship at time where I could feel it slipping away all because of my father. “Besides, sometimes it feels like I have to be that way with her.”
Aislin glances up at me with a questioning look in her eyes. “Because of the promise?”
“Maybe.” I don’t say anything further because I don’t want to explain it to her; that I don’t think what I’m feeling has anything to do with magic. That it’s my emotions making me feel obligated. Hell, obligation may not even be the best word either since I want to protect Gemma no matter what.
“Well, I think it’s good that you’re finally showing signs of being human,” she says with a small smile.
“If you say so,” I mutter, letting my hand fall to my side.
Aislin sighs then tips her head to the side, returning her attention to Gemma, who starts to stir, wiggling her fingers as if to get out. Instead, she lets out a quiet breath and relaxes as she drapes her one untied hand over her forehead, revealing the scar on the palm of her hand. Aislin leans over to study it, then her eyes land on me and light up. “I think I have an idea.”
“Good because I think I’m tapped out of them.” I sit down on the bed, rake my fingers through my hair, and rest my head in my hands. “Which is a first for me, and I’m not a fan.”
“Oh, quit being a baby. You don’t always have to be the one to save the day,” she says, rounding the bed and stopping in front of where I’m sitting. “What I’m thinking of isn’t going to take off the mark, but maybe it will get rid of the power in it temporarily until I can find a more permanent spell.”
“Okay.” I raise my head and glance over my shoulder at Gemma lying on the bed. God, it’s so f**ked up, but she looks so sexy now; eyes shut, soft breaths escaping her parted lips. I want her—I’ve always wanted her. “Get it done then.”
Aislin bites on her fingernails. “It’s not something I have to do.” She reluctantly aims a finger at me. “It’s something you have to do. Or at least it’ll work better if you do it, I think.”
My brows furrow as I stand up from the bed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she opens her hand, palm up, and traces a line across her palm, “That you’re going to make a blood promise with her.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head with disappointment because, there for a moment, I’ve thought she had a real plan. “That’s not going to work. Blood Promises aren’t more powerful than the Mark of Malefiscus.”
Now she rolls her eyes. “Maybe under normal circumstances, but with you two, I’m betting it’ll work. The connection between you is way more intense than any normal connection out there. You’ve both got the star in you and you have a lot of power.” She taps her finger against her lip. “I’m guessing with the right promise, we can release her for a bit from the power of the mark.”