I lie na**d underneath him, my body sweaty and my heart racing, pumping adrenaline through my body. All I can feel is the warmth of his skin, the comfort of his body and the overriding desire to stay away from what the prickle wants me to feel because it’s advising me that I should pull away. Danger.
When he slips inside me it hurts more than cutting my wrist open, but I’m glad that it hurts. It makes it real, not fake, like everything else is in my life. He closes his eyes and breathes in through his nose as his head lowers like he’s savoring the moment.
“Are you okay?” he whispers against my cheek.
I nod, turn my head toward him and our lips connect. He kisses me deeply as he rocks into me and I respond with an arch of my back. It hurts, but it also feels amazingly good and I want more. I loosen up the muscles in my legs so he can rock into me more easily and allow our bodies to move together. His eyes are untamed as he brings my arms above my head and even though it hurts my wrist, I let him hold me down.
When he kisses me again, I bite at his lip and he lets out a groan. With each thrust, my body and mind climb higher toward the ceiling, the sky, and the stars. When I feel myself reaching that highest point, I open my eyes and let my head fall back. I feel myself fix and then break apart again as I leave my mind and then slowly return. Somewhere along the line, I start to cry for reasons I don’t understand. Not wanting him to see, I shut my eyes and turn my head.
Seconds later, Alex’s movements become less rhythmic and then he stills inside me. We pant, our sweaty bodies pressed together and our hearts beating violently. He moves away and gives me a quick kiss on my cheek as he pulls out of me. I feel empty, hollow, like my heart and mind are severed from my body. I roll onto my stomach as he lies down on his back. It’s quiet.
“You were right from the beginning,” he says as he stares up at the ceiling with his arms tucked under his head. “You used to know me and really well. When we were kids.”
I rest my hand next to my face. “I know.”
He turns his head and meets my gaze. “How?”
“I’ve started to remember things,” I say. “Like us running around in a field.”
His mouth tugs to a small smile. “The one with all the flowers?”
I nod and my voice falters. I don’t remember, not really anyway because they’re just clips and images to me. “We seemed like we were having fun.”
His smile turns sad as he scoots down onto the pillow and rolls onto his hip. “We had a lot of fun. You used to pick the flowers and give them to me all the time, even though I would tell you time and time again that guys are supposed to give the girl flowers.”
I remember back in his car and how there was a dried flower hanging from the mirror. I wonder if that’s why he kept it there. Maybe he has thought about me all these years. I could ask him, but I’m not sure I want to know because either answer will hurt.
His lips part and it looks like he’s going to say something that will change everything. “Gemma, I….” He trails off and his throat muscles move to force a lump in his throat down.
We don’t say anything else as we lay face-to-face with our hands barely touching and stare at each other. It’s like a silent good-bye and the moment is flawless because it’s real. Part of me wishes that when I fall asleep, I’ll die right there on a peaceful note.
Chapter 22
“Gemma, wake up.” Someone kisses my forehead and brings a static zap to my skin.
I roll over, griping and moaning. “I’m too tired.”
“Gemma, please just open your eyes,” he pleads.
Sighing, I open my eyes. Alex is standing near the edge of the bed, leaning over me. He’s put his clothes back on and there’s a bag over his shoulder. I sit up, bringing the sheet with me to keep my na**d body covered.
“What’s wrong?” I ask and then curl my knees into my chest. “It’s time, isn’t it?”
He shakes his head, hurries to the foot of the bed and picks my jeans and t-shirt up, tossing them to me. “We’re leaving.”
Panic surges through my body as I grab my jeans and quickly slide my legs into them. “Did the Death Walkers find us?”
He shakes his head again as he walks over to the window and peers out. It’s dark outside, but the moon is bright and the stars are vivid. “No, I’m taking you away from here.”
I tug my shirt over my head and flip my hair out of the collar. “Why? What’s wrong?"
He moves away from the window and adjusts the handle of the bag higher onto his shoulder. “I can’t do it. I thought I could, but I can’t.”
I button my jeans, but pause as shock sets in. “You’re taking me away so they won’t detach my soul?”
He nods, stepping in front of me. “I just can’t do it again… Lose you again.”
I scratch my head, at a loss for words as I slide to the edge of the bed. “But I thought it has to be done? So the star can stay preserved and save the world… Alex, I don’t understand?” I’ve prepared myself for the end and now he’s saying it isn’t, and I don’t know what to do with that.
He releases a slow breath and then squats down in front of me. He places his hands on my knees and keeps his voice low. “I know that the world needs to be saved, but right now, I can’t do it. Right now, I need you to come with me so that we can at least try to find another way to save it or get the star out of you.”
“But I—“
He puts his finger over my lips. “But I need you to come now, because my father’s going to be here any minute.”
It’s a defining moment in my life; one that I will either look back and regret or cherish. I rise to my feet and he threads his fingers through mine as panic and relief flash across his face. We exchange a look of understanding and then we run down the hall together and out into the garage.
There’s an old, black Jeep Wrangler parked in the middle and he guides me over to the passenger side door. I hop in and he rounds the front while I quickly buckle my seatbelt.
He drops the bag onto the console, climbs in, and slams the door. Then he unzips the bag and takes out a sword. It has a silver blade with jagged edges and a black handle with a red stone on the end. Carved along the side of the blade is the Mark of Immortality and there are flakes of dried blood on the metal.
“Is that the Sword Of Immortality?” I ask and he nods.
He turns the key and the engine purrs to life. Then he presses on the garage door opener, rests the sword in his lap, and tosses the bag on the backseat. “It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
I eyeball the sword as the garage door creeps open and snow drifts in. “But I thought we were running from your father?”
He shifts the car into reverse. “We’re running from everyone now, Gemma.”
My eyes expand as I realize how true this is. Once we drive away, it’s just him and me against a large army of Death Walkers and a group of Keepers who will do anything to protect the world.
With one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other grasping the shifter, he sucks in a deep breath. “Okay, hold on. It’s going to be a pain in the f**king ass to get out of here. The snow’s worse up here than it is in Laramie.”
I clutch onto the handle on the roof and brace my feet against the dash. As the door reaches the top, he floors the gas, but then quickly taps the brakes. He stares in the rearview mirror with a look of horror on his face. I follow his gaze to the back window with fear in my veins, wondering if his father has arrived. There are hundreds of yellow eyes flickering through the trees and shimmering against the snow. The whole area looks like it’s lit up with twinkling Christmas lights. I’m not sure if I’m more upset, or less, that it’s Death Walkers and not his father. Do I want my soul more or my life?
Through the midst of the Death Walkers a tall figure steps forward and into the garage. As the light hits his face, my hand grips the door handle. The scar on his cheek, the darkness in his eyes, the evil he brings with him.
“No, no, no, no.” I whisper as I flip the handle and crack the door. “It’s him.”
Alex turns his head toward me. He’s still holding the sword and his knuckles have gone white. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.”
I let go of the door and clutch onto his arm. “No, you don’t understand. That’s the man who put my mother in The Underworld.”
He shakes his head in denial. “No, there’s no way.”
I release his arm and trace my finger down my cheek. “Yes, the man in the vision had that exact same scar.”
He’s acting strange, torn and baffled. He reaches for the handle of the door and then changes his mind and shuts off the engine. The man enters the garage and cold air gushes through the vents of the car. “You can’t be right,” Alex mutters as he lowers his head onto the steering wheel.
“Alex, I’m telling you, that’s him,” I practically shout. “That’s the man.”
He raises his head and the look in his eyes takes me off guard because he looks like he doesn’t know what the hell to do. “No, you don’t understand. That can’t be him because it’s Stephan… That’s my father.”
Chapter 23
The Death Walkers close in on the house, tromping up the driveway and leaving their tracks in the snow. Soon the exit is blocked by rows and rows of black-cloaked creatures, freezing the land and house. It’s snowing unbreakably, veil of ice falling from the sky and to the earth. It makes it hard to see, but I can still see enough.
“What are we going to do?” I ask Alex as I kneel in the seat and keep my eyes on Stephan. “I mean, he showed up with them… and he did that to my mom.”
Stephan is just lurking at the opening of the garage, leaning against the doorframe, like he’s waiting for us to come to him. Like we’re that stupid.
Alex takes the keys out of the ignition and stuffs them into his pocket. He turns his body toward the door with the sword positioned at his side. He doesn’t explain as he starts to open the door.