She swallows nervously, like she’s just realizing this. “I know.”
“We need to do something.” I stop in front of the window and glance outside at the front yard. It’s dark, though the stars and moon are bright in the sky. I remember all the times when I was a child and Gemma and I would look at the stars, obsessed with them. It makes sense now that I know we’re both carrying around the energy of a fallen star, but at the time I just thought we were two weird kids that understood each other. “We need a plan to figure out where she is.”
“I could do a locating spell,” Aislin suggests as I turn away from the window. “But I’d have to run to a Wicca Shop because my supplies are really low.”
“Yeah, that might work,” I mutter, trying to get myself to focus on fixing the problem instead of just the situation itself.
“Might work,” Aislin says arrogantly, getting to her feet. “You mean it will work.”
I’m not so confident, considering the many spells I’ve witnessed go awry over the years. Still, I collect the car keys from the coffee table. “You drive to the Wicca Shop.” I toss her the keys and she catches them. “I’ll stay here just in case one of them comes back.”
She throws the car keys back at me, scowling. “Or I could just transport like a normal witch. Jesus, you are really out of it, aren’t you? You need to get your head into the game or we aren’t going to get anywhere.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I mutter, tucking the car keys into my pocket. She’s right. I need to focus. “Alright, I think I’ll go search the beach some more while you go get supplies.” I cross the living room, heading for the back door that’s in the kitchen. “Meet you back here in a bit?” I ask and she nods, walking toward the hallway that leads to her bedroom.
After I grab a flashlight, I walk out of the house and step off the porch onto the sandy beach. I start to relax a little. Fresh air. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore. It’s distracting and relaxes me slightly from my worries. If only I could make the goddamn stars go away, then maybe I could completely clear my head.
Hiking down the shoreline dotted with beach houses while sweeping the flashlight from side to side, I look for any sign of Gemma or Laylen. There are no fresh footprints nearby—nothing at all—and this ridiculous, helpless feeling emerges inside me. It’s not the first time I’ve felt it. In fact, I’ve felt it a few times.
Once when I was younger and my father was getting ready to detach Gemma’s soul, something he hadn’t told me until later on in life when I was more brainwashed and would react less. I had felt helpless watching her leave, knowing I’d never see her again and I was too young to do anything. I also felt the same way when I was reunited with her at the college campus. The first time she touched me again and I didn’t think I could have her, yet I wanted her so fucking bad. The last time had been at the cabin in Colorado while I was waiting for my father to show up and detach her soul again. I didn’t want to let it happen, yet I was torn between what I had thought was right and wrong. I ended up doing what I thought at the time was the wrong thing and tried to flee with her. Then my father showed up with the Death Walkers and I realized that everything I’d thought was wrong might just be right.
My head is swimming with the helpless sensation by the time I arrive at the end of the beach where a cluster of rocks blocks me from getting any further. I’m about to head back when I hear the soft sound of footsteps move up from behind me. I turn around and startle back when my flashlight highlights a very familiar face.
“Gemma?” I pause, shining the light into her strikingly beautiful eyes, feeling a wave of electricity rush over me from the connection we share. But whether it’s from the star or something else, though, I’m unsure.
I immediately sense there’s something off about her. It definitely looks like Gemma, but there’s something missing…. Something’s vanished from the last time I’ve seen her. She looks so hollow, and the sparks are merely a lull of warmth; nowhere near as intense as they usually are. It’s how I’ve imagined she looked when her soul was detached, and the thought of it sends a chill up my spine.