“No, I’m not sure you can,” he says. “It’s bad.”
“It can’t be worse than when you died,” I tell him. “So yes, I can handle it.”
Emotions flicker in his eyes, one’s I don’t understand. “It’s Nicholas…he’s dead.”
Chapter 9
Dead? Nicholas is dead. The faerie/Foreseer who only hours ago was annoying the shit out of me is gone forever, taking his irritating habits and knowledge of how to fix the world right along with him.
“I’m not sure how to react.” I admit, gripping the blanket. “I’m so confused.”
“That’s understandable,” he says concernedly. “Death is confusing.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t really even like him,” I say guiltily.
“Neither did I,” he tells me with a sad smile. “But it’s still hard to hear of someone dying, maybe even a little frightening.”
I let the blanket go from my death grip. “You sound so wise right now.”
“I’m always wise.” He winks at me, but there’s sadness flowing from him. “But I’ve also lost people to death before. And whether it was my grandmother or the eighty year old lady who lived next door, it was all confusing and painful.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say… I’ve never lost someone. Only thought I did.”
His fingers find my cheekbone. Forbidden territory again, but I don’t stop him. “And I’m sure thinking it still hurt as much as if it’d happened.”
“That’s not true,” I say, shaking my head. “I couldn’t feel when I truly began to understand that my parents were dead, at least according to Marco and Sophia. It didn’t hurt, not like when I thought I’d lost you.” The last part sort of slips out, falls off my tongue, hangs between us, waiting for someone to pick it up.”
“I want to kiss you better,” he says in a hoarse voice, eyes fervent with the desire he was talking about in the car. “I do, but…”
“But you can’t,” I finish for him, our lips inching nearer. I feel the heat of his breath caressing my skin, the warmth of his hand on my thigh practically scalds my skin, and the heat in his eyes, the emotions; it almost makes me okay with dying. Maybe I could, give that up, my life for love and for the world.
I’m about to say that to him, ask him if maybe we should allow ourselves to go to that place if we can, let our hearts beat until they connect, then the star will fade and will go with it too. Sacrifice. It might be the only way.
But I can’t seem to get the words to leave my mouth, so I selfishly say something else. “How did he die?”
Alex draws a path up to my eye, then delicately traces a line below it, back and forth… it feels mind-numbingly good. “He was on the side of the impact. I think it killed him instantly.”
Reality rushes over me like a bone-crushing wave. Nicholas is gone and I can’t save the world, unless I want to die and let Alex die too.
“It’s all over.” My stomach churns again and I throw my hand over my mouth as I my stomach threatens to dry heave. “Where’s the bathroom?”
Alex points over his shoulder at a door on the opposing wall as the one he walked out earlier. “There’s one right there.”
I jump off the bed and run over too it as Alex gets to his feet, calling out after me. I slam the door, run over to the toilet, and puke until my stomach is empty. Until everything is empty.
After I rinse my mouth and splash my face with cold water, I take in my reflection in the mirror. I look like death, my violet eyes red and puffy, my skin pallid, and there’s a thin cut on my forehead.
“What am I going to do?” The choices I’m facing are tearing me apart. “How am I supposed to decide?”
A knock on the door. “Are you okay in there?” Alex asks.
“Yeah,” I say, pulling myself together before I open the door. “I’m just not feeling very well... it must be the accident or something.”
He gives sympathetic look. “Do you want to lie down? You’ve been through a lot of the last few days.”
I shake my head and step past him and out of the bathroom. “I want to see Laylen and make sure he’s doing okay.”
Alex frowns. “He’s fine.” He leans against the doorframe of the bathroom and points at the door across the room, the one he walked out of earlier. “He’s out there with Stasha and Aislin.”
I feel a little weird about how much I want to see Laylen and with how uneasy it’s making Alex, but I still head out and he trails behind me, keeping his distance. The air smells leafy and reminds me of Nicholas, but it’s coming from the plants flourishing from the walls and ceiling. At the end of the hallway is a living room with walls covered in rose wallpaper that match the sofas. Like the bedroom, there are plants all over the shelves, vines decorating the ceiling, and plants in the windowsill. The curtain is open and I can see that it’s still dusk.
I glance over my shoulder at Alex and raise my eyebrows. “Okay, the plants are kind of creeping me out.”
He shrugs, not agreeing or disagreeing. “The oxygen’s good for her or something… but yeah, still kind of creepy.” He nods his head to my right. “Everyone’s in the kitchen.”
I turn and spot Laylen sitting at the kitchen table. Strands of his blond, blue-tipped hair hang in his bright blue eyes, tattoos curve across his arms, including the markings for the Mark of Immortality, and his long legs are stretched out to the side of him as he sits sideways in the chair. Aislin is next to him, her hair damp and she’s wearing a white floral dress, opening and closing her hand causing her skin to smoke as if she’s practicing a spell. The other person at the table is also in a floral dress; a green one. Her blond hair reminds me of sunshine and sunflowers and her eyes are sky blue. Tan gloves cover her hands and her lips are glossy. I’ve seen this girl before, not just in a photo back at Laylen’s house, but in a vision… or memory... She was holding Aislin’s spell book.
“Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Alex asks, his breath tickling the back of my neck—I hadn’t realized he was so close.
I turn and our lips are only a sliver of space away. “I’ve seen that girl before,” I whisper.
His brow curves upward. “Stasha?”
I nod. “In a vision… or memory… I’m not really sure, but she was holding Aislin’s spell book.”