“What the hell should I do?” There are no windows in the room, just a few empty shelves and a door. I quickly run over to it, but it comes crashing down and flies straight at my head. I drop to the floor, flat on my stomach, and the blade of the knife grazes my hand and slices my palm open. With my uninjured hand, I begin to push myself up when something steps up in front of my face. Black fabric circles its feet and ice cracks out from under it.
I kneel up and tip my chin up to the Death Walker standing in front of me. It’s sickening to look at up close; dry peeling skin and blood oozing from the visible muscles. Its eyes are hidden underneath the hood, but the glow is blinding.
I skitter backward on my knees, poising the knife out in front of me. Without warning, it charges, sending ice dispersing from the walls and ceiling. The shards are as sharp as glass and each piece that hits me rips at my skin. I manage to swing the knife at the monster, knowing it won’t kill it, but hoping it will wound it. I only slice the fabric of its cloak, though, and seem to piss it off. I dodge to the side and try to get my feet steady beneath me, but it floats over my head and lands behind me. I whirl and aim the knife at it again, but I’m way off goal and I stab at the air.
My feet slip against the slick floor as I try to spin back around to run, but it grabs ahold of my arm and lifts me up until my legs are dangling below me. I open my mouth to scream, but a dense cloud puffs from its fleshless lips. Cold air enters my throat and steals the sound away.
Bits of ice and frost crackle across the inside of my mouth and down my airway. The Death Walker tips its head back, lets out a blood curdling scream and countless shrieks echo throughout the house. Its fingers leave my arm and I crumple to the floor, clutching my neck as I roll onto my back. The Death Walker cries out again as my body stops falling, each limb dying. The ice spreads down into my lungs, wrapping around each bone, contracting them and I can feel the skin shriveling from the pressure. I listen to my heart still as the Death Walker leans over me. As it opens its mouth again, my heart goes silent. Then everything goes black.
Chapter 17
“Sometimes I think it’d be better if I were dead,” I say to Alex as I walk around the trees and head further into the forest.
He catches me by the arm, jerks me back and twirls me around to look at him. “Why would you ever say that?”
I stare at the lake that’s peeking through the brim of the forest. “Because then, I wouldn’t have to feel the pain anymore.”
He hooks his finger under my chin and makes me look at him. His green eyes glisten in the sunlight that is flickering through the branches of the trees. It looks like he’s about to cry and I don’t understand why. “If you couldn’t feel the pain anymore, then you wouldn’t be able to feel how great it feels when it leaves you. Without pain, everything else wouldn’t matter to you. It would all be the same.”
“Sometimes I think that’d be better.”
“Better than love?”
I swallow hard as tears puddle the corners of my eyes. “I don’t know if I know what that is and I’m not sure I ever will.”
He embraces my cheek with his hand and grazes his thumb just below my eyes. “Yes, you will. You’ll know because for a moment, that pain will be gone.”
***
“Gemma, can you hear me?” Alex whispers. “Gemma, wake up.”
I feel myself being lifted and then arms coddle me closer to a tepid chest. Electricity webs through me and the ice in my body shrinks and melts. I’m no longer cold, but feverish. I tuck my head in and let the heat take me over as light gleams around me.
“Whatever you do, don’t go to sleep,” he says. “Keep your eyes open.”
I’m trying, but it’s hard. I can’t… Suddenly I can’t feel the pain anymore.
***
I wake up confused and with an earsplitting headache. My hand is bandaged up, I’m lying in a log bed, and there’s a blanket over me and a pillow under my head. The walls are made of the same logs as the bed and so is the nightstand and the dresser. There’s an antique vanity in the corner and a window next to it, which shows the extensive scenery of mountains that are submerged in snow.
I clutch my head as I sit up and blink my eyes, trying to piece everything together, but my memories are a bit foggy. “Am I back in Wyoming? Holy f**k, have I been dreaming the entire time?”
“Depends on where you think the dream started from?” Alex’s voice wraps around my body and makes me remember the dream I’d been having. It also makes me remember all the things Laylen and I talked about.
He’s by the doorway, looking comfortable as he leans against the doorframe with his arms folded. He’s wearing a black t-shirt, faded jeans with a tear in the thigh area, different from the clothes I saw him in last time, and his dark brown hair is damp.
I lower my hand from my head. “How long have I been out?”
“A little over six hours,” he answers simply. “You were pretty out of it.”
“Six hours?” I start to get up, but the soreness in my head sends me straight back to the bed. “What happened? Because the last thing I can remember is the Death Walker breathing on me, then it felt like I was dying.”
He uncrosses his arms, walks across the room and sits down at the foot of the bed. “You should have been dead. The Death Walker breathed the Chill of Death on you and it’s lethal, but somehow… somehow you’re alive.”
I check over my arms, which have fingernail-size cuts all over them. “How did I survive?”
He shakes his head and the muscles in his arms go stiff. “I have no idea. All I can figure is it has to do with the star being inside you.”
The star. I wish he’d stop reminding me. I throw the blankets off me and move my legs over the edge of the bed. “Where are Aislin and Laylen?”
He rubs his hand down his face and sighs. “Aislin couldn’t transport all four of us out of the house at the same time, so she had to make two trips. When she transported back to get Laylen, she never came back.”
“What!” I exclaim and begin to put weight on my feet, despite my wobbly knees. “Well, we have to go back there and get them. I mean, the Death Walkers were there and they—”
He grabs my arm and gently steers me to the side so I fall onto his lap. “Calm down, my father called not too long after and said they were fine. That Aislin’s crystal had shattered, but they were able to make it to the car and drive to the city.”
I remember the conversation Laylen and I had in the kitchen. “So they’re okay?”
He nods. “Yeah, they’re okay—everyone is okay. Everything is going to be okay. God, it’s nice to be able to finally say that.”
Why does it feel like there are pieces of the story missing? “Did you talk to them yourself?”
“Who? Aislin and Laylen?” he asks and I nod. “No, I tried like a thousand times before my father called, but their phones went straight to voicemail.”
“Then, how did your father get ahold of them?”
“They called him from Adessa’s.”
“And where are they now?”
He eyes me over suspiciously. “They’re all headed here. Why?”
“And what about Marco and Sophia?” I say, cradling my bandaged hand as I tip back. “Where are they?”
“I’m not sure, yet,” he replies with a dash of annoyance. “When we went back to Laramie, we couldn’t find anyone.”
None of this makes sense and it’s frustrating because he doesn’t seem to care. It’s like he’s blind—brainwashed. “And what about your father? Where was he this entire time?”
“He was out in Magia Terra.” He takes my injured hand in his and traces the folds between my fingers.
“Magia Terra?” My body responds elatedly to his touch, but I tell it to shut the hell up.
“It’s like this wasteland where useless or broken magical objects are dumped,” he explains as his finger roams to my palm where the knife entered. “He does work there a lot and there’s no reception whatsoever. I don’t know why I never thought of it before.”
“But he’s back now?” I frown as he brings my hand to his lips and he delicately kisses the bandaged area. He’s being weird. Too affectionate.
He nods, then picks me up by the h*ps and turns me around to face him. “He’s headed here now, so relax.” He kisses my neck as his fingers sneak up between my legs and he spreads them open so there’s one on each side of him. “Everything’s fine.”
Everything isn’t fine. I have no idea where we are, what happened, or what exactly was said when Stephan finally called. I’ve missed a lot while I’ve been out and the only person that has been completely honest with me isn’t here.
His fingers travel up the top of my leg and he kneads my thighs with his fingers. “Relax, everything’s okay.”
I crane my neck and glance back out the window at the snow-covered land. “Where are we?”
“We’re in one of the Keepers cabins in Colorado.” He fixes a finger underneath my chin and makes me look back at him. “Can we stop talking about this now? I’d really rather be doing other stuff,” he says in a demanding tone and then he leans forward and kisses me freely.
It’s completely out of character for him. Usually, he’s either out-of-control or trying to restrain himself and the last time we talked, he made it pretty clear that he thinks of me as just the star. He’s too comfortable, as if he suddenly thinks it’s okay to kiss me and touch me. I need to stop him and get some answers.
“I think we should…” I begin to protest against his lips, but I trail off as his tongue determinedly enters my mouth.
His hands slide up to my waist, leaving a trail of heat on my stomach as they touch my bare skin. Turning us to the side, he winds one hand around my back and covers my body with his as he lays me on my back. He spreads my legs open and positions his body between my legs and we fit perfectly together. At least for a moment, but as his hand wanders up the front of my shirt and cups the outer layer of my lacy bra, I remember how powerful his touch is and I scream at my brain to snap out of it.