“The Vectum Crystal?” Laylen asks and she bobs her head up and down. Laylen hooks his finger over his shoulder and points at the window. “There’s this place in Vegas—Adessa’s Herbs and Spices.”
Alex cracks his knuckles. “I’m thinking that Las Vegas probably isn’t the greatest place to go. There are all kinds of dark creatures there. Vampires. Werewolves. It’s too dangerous.”
My eyes amplify as I stare out the window at the twinkling lights in the distance. They have to be the city’s lights. “There’s Werewolves?”
Alex points at Laylen with a bored look in his face. “There’re vampires. Of course there are werewolves.”
I shake the image of a dog howling at the moon out of my head. “Do they bite?”
Laylen lets out a soft laugh as he twirls a set of keys he’s taken out of his pocket around his finger. “You sure are fascinated with biting.”
My cheeks flush because I really am. There’s something about getting bitten that enthralls my emotions and I want to experience it in real life.
Daggers shoot from Alex’s eyes as he glares at Laylen and then his attention centers back to me. “It doesn’t matter what they do. All that matters is that you’re safe and sound here, far away from them.”
“I don’t think I’m really safe and sound anywhere,” I say. “Besides, don’t you have like a box of weapons to protect me or something?”
He struggles not to laugh at me. “Weapons or not, it’s too dangerous. If an inhuman—and maybe even human—creature gets close to you, they’re going to want to get closer.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because they will,” he responds. “You have this… thing about you.”
“Then stay here with her,” Laylen proposes as he leans back in the chair and places his hands behind his head. “Or, I’ll stay with her and you take Aislin. There’s a ton of solutions, so stop getting your panties in a bunch.”
Alex stares impassively at him. “I’m not getting my panties in a bunch. I’m being careful.”
“Careful about what exactly?” Laylen wonders. “Gemma getting hurt, or you hurting Gemma.”
“What?” Aislin and I say simultaneously.
Aislin glances at me and then at Alex. “What’s he talking about?”
“Let him explain it to you,” Laylen says with an accusing tone.
“There’s nothing to explain.” He shoves his chair back from the table and rises to his feet. “You promise we’ll just go straight there and straight back. No stops or anything.”
Laylen stares at him incredulously with his hands spread out to the side of him. “Are you kidding me? Where else do you think I’ll take us? McDonald’s? Walmart? Oh wait, I do need to make a quick stop by the cemetery.”
I snort a laugh, but it quickly dissipates at the fury blazing in Alex’s eyes. “You think this is funny? Do you think getting killed is funny?”
I shake my head. “But what he said was.”
Aislin grimaces and drops her head down on the table. “Can we just get going already?”
Alex’s hands wring the back of the chair. “Don’t underestimate the Death Walkers, Gemma. They’ll kill you if they get the chance.”
Fear capes the humor inside me. He’s right. It isn’t funny. The prickle lets me know that I need to get things in check and take things seriously. It soothes me with each stab. “I know that. And I’m sorry. I won’t laugh at inappropriate things again.”
He is stunned by my apology. “Well, good.”
After a lot of arguing, a decision is finally made. We would all go to Vegas with the stipulation that I will stay in the car and there will be no stops except to get the crystal. Including cemeteries and Walmart.
I have blood all over my clothes and Aislin insists I need to change before we leave. She informs me that she has clothes stashed in the house. We go into a room with a white four-post bed covered with tons of fluffy pillows. There is an oversized armoire in the corner and Aislin marches up to it and throws the doors open.
“The only problem is you’re about five inches taller than me.” She taps her finger against her chin as she evaluates the selection of clothes hanging up. “But I guess we’ll just have to make something work.”
I take a seat on the bed. “Do you come here a lot? You must if you have your own room.”
She pulls out a pink T-shirt and tosses it on the bed. “Yeah, this house actually used to belong to Laylen’s parents and we used to come up here to take a break from everything.” She throws a glittery scarf onto the bed. “Things change, though.” She sighs, staring down at a pair of jeans in her hands. “We haven’t been up here in a really long time.”
She starts delving through the clothes again. Shirts, jeans, skirts, and dresses begin to form a pile on the bed beside me. The room smells fruity and it matches the frilly theme of the bed. There are photos all over the walls, so I get up and amble around to look at them. I find photos fascinating because they capture a moment of emotion, whether it’s fake or real.
Some of the photos are of Laylen and Aislin and there are others just of Laylen. There’s one taped to the dresser mirror of Laylen standing out in the desert with his arm wrapped around Aislin. Alex is next to Laylen and there is an attractive blonde girl cuddled up against him. They’re smiling. Happy. It makes my heart hurt. Have I ever been happy? I search through my limited memories and come up hollow.
“That was taken a couple of years ago,” Aislin remarks as she wiggles a hanger out of the sleeves of a sweater.
“Oh, yeah?”
“I think I was about eighteen.” She balls up a shirt and tosses it back into the armoire. “So, like, five years ago.”
I do the math. “That would make you…”
“Twenty-three.” She interrupts as she chucks a skirt onto the bed. “And Alex is twenty-four.”
“No wonder he seems to hate school,” I note. “He’s old.”
Aislin laughs as she hooks the hanger back on the bar. “He’s not that old, Gemma. Only a few years older than you.”
I pick up a handmade ceramic heart that’s on the dresser and turn it over in my hand. Her room is so different from mine, decorated and full of items associated with memories. “How about Laylen? How old is he?”
“Well, he would’ve been twenty-five, but after he got… um…” She trails off as tears pool in her eyes. She’s hurting thinking about the past, something I understand. It’s right then that I realize Aislin isn’t a bad person. She’s nice and has a lot of emotion in her, just like me. “But, yeah, he’s stuck at twenty-two now.” She dabs the tears away with her fingertips, chucks a white lacy shirt onto the bed, then comes over and stares down at the pile of clothes with her hands on her hips. “Now, see if any of these will fit those long legs of yours.”
***
Nothing fits. All the pants are too short and all the shirts are baggy in the chest area. I flop back on the bed, wearing a pink shirt that shows off my stomach and jeans that barely reach the lower region of my ankles. “I think I might have to just wear my clothes.” I drape my arm over my head.
She picks up my shirt that has blood on it and discards it in a hamper in the corner. “No way. You did hear Alex when he said vampires could be there. He wasn’t kidding and they’re not like Laylen. They’ll bite you.”
There’s that word again. Bite. “Okay, then what do you suggest?” I peek out from underneath my arm. “Because I look ridiculous.”
She glances around her room and when her eyes land on a trunk at the foot of the bed, her face lights up and she claps her hands. “Oh my God. I have the perfect outfit.” She kneels down in front of it, flips the latches, and raises the lid. “I have no idea why I didn’t think of this before.” She sticks her head in and begins digging around. I sit up as she shuts the lid. She springs to her toes and extends her arm in my direction. “Here you go. One outfit that will fit not only those long limbs of yours, but it’ll also help you blend in.”
I
take the piece of fabric from her hand and hold it up in front of me. It’s a strapless, black leather dress with a lace-up section on the back. “Where did you get this?”
She twists her golden brown hair up as she makes her way over to the porcelain vanity. “I had a friend who wore it for Halloween one year and she left it here.”
I run my fingernail down the red ribbon on the back and twist it around my finger. “It’s a Halloween costume? For what? A slut?”
Aislin opens a drawer and takes out a compact and a makeup brush. “She was supposed to be a sexy witch, but she did end up looking more like a slut.”
I unravel my finger from the ribbon. “And now you want me to wear it?”
She clicks open the compact. “Trust me; you’ll be thanking me when we get to Vegas. It’ll help you blend in.” She begins powdering her nose.
I glance down at the leather dress in my hand. “This will help me blend in?”
She nods. “You’ll see when we get there. In Vegas, anything and everything exists. Walk around looking normal and you’re the one that stands out.”
I get to my feet and head for the door, grabbing my boots on the way out. “Where’s the bathroom?”
She turns in the chair and points to the right. “Third door to your right.” I start to leave and she calls out, “Oh yeah, and Gemma, wear your hair down. You have such pretty hair.”
Sighing, I leave her to primp and go into the bathroom, fully aware that I’m going to look ridiculous. I might not know much about myself, but I know enough to comprehend that a tight, leather dress isn’t going to look good on me do to my lack of curves.
I carefully slip out of the shirt and jeans and then step into the dress. I shimmy it over my hips and then have to take off my bra because the dress is made to go all-la-natural. I lace up the back the best that I can, but it’s loose. Then, I slip on my boots before yanking the elastic out of my hair and letting it fall down to my shoulders. I’m not used to wearing such a limited amount of clothing; I feel naked and ridiculous.
I splash some cold water on my face in a pathetic attempt to bring myself out of this dream because vampires, witches and secret groups who save the world aren’t supposed to exist.
But after I pat my face dry and open my eyes, the same navy blue walls of Laylen’s bathroom still surround me. I glance into the mirror hanging above the sink and sigh at the sight of my freakish violet eyes that collide against the glass; like my hair does with my pasty complexion. Add the gothic dress, as well as the boots, and I look like a character straight out of the Addam’s Family.
There’s a knock on the door. “Gemma, are you ready to go?” Aislin asks.
I blink one last time at my reflection, then turn away from it, throw open the door and step out. Alex and Laylen are with Aislin, standing next to a table decorated with a vase of wilting flowers. Aislin has changed into a simple grey dress with matching flats and her hair is pinned up. Laylen has the same outfit on; black jeans, a black tee and black boots; it’s a hell of a lot of black. Alex has changed into dark jeans, a long-sleeved, fitted, black shirt and there are leather bands on his wrists.
I give an animated swing of my arm. “All right, throw in a hand that walks around and a creepy Victorian house, and I’m good to go.”
All three of them look at me at the same time and then they go quiet as they stare at me.
Great, I look sillier than I originally thought. “It’s a joke. About the Addam’s Family,” I say, tugging at the hem of the dress. “I should change, right?”
Smiling, Aislin shakes her head, while Laylen coughs into his hand. “No, you look great.” She walks up to me as she digs through her purse. “You just need this.” She draws her hand from her purse and moves a black pencil toward my face. I wince as she traces a line around each eye and then steps back, putting the lid back on the eyeliner.
“She kind of looks like one,” she says with a tilt of her head as she studies me. “You know that?”
Alex steps up beside her with his eyes fixed on me. There’s a raw animalistic look in them that makes the blood rush to my cheeks. “She does, which is good. Maybe they’ll leave her alone.”
I rearrange the top of my dress higher because it’s slipping down. “Look like what?”
“A Black Angel.” Aislin tosses the eyeliner back in her purse and zips it up. “They’re really pretty, but really dangerous.”
“Is that like a Fallen Angel?” I ask.
“Not exactly,” she says. “They’re hypnotic and powerful. They have this way about them that draws people to them and if you get too close to one, they can possess your mind.”
I gape at her. “Possess your mind and make you do what?”
Alex steps forward. “Whatever they want, which is why we have to be careful and stay away from them.”
“Are there a lot where we’re going?”
Alex wavers. “It all depends on the Wicca store. If there’s black magic there, then yes, a Black Angel might be there or maybe even something worse. And it’s good you’re dressed up like that.” His eyes scroll up my body. “Maybe everyone will try not to get too close to you. And we can keep your identity hidden.”
“From the Death Walkers?” I ask. “Or from Demetrius?”
“From everyone.” He moves nearer and blows out a breath. “No one can know who you are, Gemma. If the wrong person finds out who you are—what you are—then word will get back to Demetrius. Or they might try to use the power for themselves.” He pauses. “You’re very valuable.”
Valuable to whom? I let out an uneasy breath and tug at the top of my dress again, wondering what I’m getting into. “I can’t get the ribbon to fasten very tightly. I’m worried it’s going to fall down.”
Alex makes a circular motion with his finger. “Turn around and I’ll tie it.”
I obey and hold my breath as he steps up behind me. Sweeping my hair to the side, he hooks his fingers through the bottom cross of the ribbon and gives it a gentle tug as Aislin and Laylen wander down the hallway toward the front door.
He doesn’t utter a word as he deliberately traces his finger to the next section. I suck in a breath as he pulls on that one too and his breath hits the back of my neck. I try to remain calm as he fastens the next one by pulling it so securely that the leather clutches my ribs.
I put my hands just below my breasts and work to get air into my lungs. “It’s tight enough I think.”
His chest brushes against my back as he laughs and gives the ribbon another tug. “Not tight enough. We don’t want them falling out.”
I bite down on my lip. Hard. And a little blood pools out. “I’m sure they’ll stay put. I can barely breathe.”
His knuckles graze between my shoulder blades as he ties the ribbon into a knot. He’s breathing erratically and his chest collides with my back with each inhale. “I know, but I want to make sure.” There’s an elongated pause and then I feel his lips touch the back of my neck.
I stay still as he rolls his tongue along my skin and gives it a little suck, sending shivers all over my body. I want to crumble to the ground and let him catch me, but he pulls away and the feeling evaporates as he heads down the hall with a swagger in his walk. All I have left is a warm sensation on my back and I'm not sure if it’s from the kiss or the prickle trying to whisper a new emotion to me.
Either way, I stuff it down and follow them out the front door, knowing I have to get my feelings under control, so I can think clearly and keep myself alive.
Because that is the whole point of life. Isn’t it?
Chapter 12
Laylen drives a 1960s Pontiac GTO; black with white racing stripes down the middle. Another sexy car to add to my list. And a sexy driver. With his long fingers curled around the steering wheel, Laylen speeds off down the dirt road toward the city.
I’m in the backseat, watching the stars streak by as the car zooms down the road. Alex is next to me and is being really quiet. His knee keeps jiggling up and dow
n as if he’s centering his nervous energy into that one leg. It’s making the air stifling and I can still feel where he kissed my neck, like a lingering chill.
“You know if you keep bouncing your leg like that, you’re going to get a cramp,” I say, when his nervous energy starts to spread to me.
He ceases jiggling his knee and looks at me. “Is it bothering you?”
“Kind of,” I admit and fan my hand in front of my face. “You’re making it very hot in here.”
“Maybe it’s just my hotness that’s making you hot and bothered,” he jokes with a smirk.
Annoyance overcomes me and I slap his knee, kind of roughly. “That’s not what it is.”
He rubs his knee with a half-smile on his face. “You’re vicious.”
“And you’re arrogant.”
“That’s been a given from day one.” He pauses and then glances up front at Aislin who has her eyes shut and her head resting against the window. He scoots over in the seat and leans in toward me. He smells like cologne mixed with soap and I breathe in his intoxicating scent. “You need to be careful while we’re in the city. Stay by me at all times.”
“Yes, boss. Any other orders you need me to follow?” I'm joking, but the look on his face is dead serious.
“There’s a ton of orders I’d love for you to follow,” he says and reclines back with his jaw set tight. “But I’d break a lot of rules if I ever gave them to you; and unlike some people, I don’t break the rules.” He glances up at Laylen and then directs his focus to the road ahead. In the darkness of the cab, his eyes look like coals and his face is a shadow; he looks haunted.
There’s a brief confirmation from the prickle that lets me know I feel bad. Only hours ago, in the cabin, I’d been rubbing up against him, feeling the most amazing feelings ever and then I went and did whatever it was that I did with Laylen. I’m working up a mild apology when the city rises into view and my thought process hits a screeching halt.
Lights blink against the blackness of the night in vibrant colors and giant billboards light up the sides of the road. In the distance, where the hills fade out, buildings stretch toward the sky. I sit quietly, craning my neck from left to right to take it all in. Everything’s so flashy and shocking. The shock only grows when we reach the heart of the city, where the sidewalks become packed with mobs of people and the air buzzes with excitement. There are people dressed in costumes; drinking, laughing and I even see one man strip off his clothes.
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