She gapes at me. “Um, the super tall, sexy vampire that I’m pretty sure belongs to you… or, well, belongs to Aislin.” She pauses, a malicious look rising on her face. “Or maybe it’s that star girl you’ve always secretly been in love with. Gamma or whatever. He did talk about her a lot.” She scrunches her nose at the thought. “It would be pretty funny. The girl that you could never let go, falling in love with your best friend. Or ex-best friend anyway.”
I’m not even sure what comes over me. I’m usually good with insults—especially Stasha’s—yet something about Gemma and Laylen and her accusations makes me lose control of my anger. Something snaps inside me, and before I can shut it down, I’m charging toward her outstretched hands of death.
“I’d watch it if I were you,” she warns, waggling her fingers, the movement just enough to cause me to freeze just inches away from them.
Composing myself, I back away from her, telling myself to settle down because I’m not going to get anywhere with any of this if I’m dead. “Either you can put the gloves back on or leave,” I tell her calmly.
She rolls her eyes, but starts to put her gloves back on. “What’s gotten into you?” She gets her fingers snuggly into one glove and then moves to the other hand. “You used to be so much stronger and had it together more than this while we were dating. “ Once she gets the gloves on, she lowers her arms to her sides. “But you’re acting so erratic.”
I hate to admit it, but she’s right; although I’m not going to tell her that. Just like I’ve never admitted anything to her during the four years I dated her.
Our relationship was built solely on one thing—sex. I got bored and went to her to fill up my time, and she was a cold enough person that she didn’t mind.
In fact, sometimes I think she’s as dead inside as me, but that might be because she actually has death in her.
“We haven’t dated in a couple of years,” I say blankly. “Things change.”
She eyes me over with disgust. “And not for the better. Jesus, look at you.” She crosses her arms, her face pinched. “All worked up over some girl.”
“How do you know about Gemma?” I wonder. “Is it just from Laylen or has word been traveling?”
Her mouth turns up to a grin as she struts up to me. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She places a finger on my chest and traces a line all the way up to my chin. “You know, I could easily tell you if you gave me something in return.” She bites her lip as her finger slides under my chin.
I lean out of her touch. “Get out,” I say coldly. “I don’t have time for your shit, and trust me, whatever you want from me, you’re not going to get.”
She scowls. “Fuck you. You don’t have to be such a douche.”
“I thought you liked the douche,” I challenge, arching my brow.
Her face reddens with anger and I wait for her to unleash her wrath, maybe even pull off the gloves, but instead she simmers down and steps back. “Fine. Be that way.” She walks toward the back of the room and something occurs to me.
“Wait, how did you get back here?” I ask, inching into the room toward her.
She flips her hair off her shoulders as she squares them. “Oh, Alex, you really have gone downhill, haven’t you? Forgetting that anything’s possible.” Then with a smile, she picks up Aislin’s spell book. “Besides, I never even came here for you.” She raises the book. “Only this.”
“Shit.” I run toward her, but I hit an invisible force field in the center of the room that flings me back through the air. I land on my back, the impact so intense it knocks the wind out of me. After I recover, I jump to my feet, but by the time I get up, she’s gone, and I have no clue where she went or how she even got here in the first place.
This is bad. Very bad. At least from my point of view. The only way to find out for sure is for Aislin to get here and tell me what Stasha could possibly want with her spell book. I mean, she’s only a Keeper with the gift of death, which she inherited from her mother who had a slight bit of Plant Nymph blood inside her.
My first instinct is to go check on Gemma, so I hurry across the house and am both relieved and frustrated when I enter the room because she’s there, but she’s awake.
“Don’t look so disappointed to see me,” she says, wiggling her arms which are still tied to the bedposts. She’s trying to sit up; her head lifted so she can look at me, her hair’s tangled around her face and her shirt’s riding up so that her bare stomach is revealed. So sexy except for that stupid smirk on her face. “I’m not that bad to be around, am I?”
“It depends,” I reply, entering the room on guard. The arrival of Stasha has reminded me that at any moment anything could happen. Besides, if Gemma’s here like this, then whoever possessed her in the first place might show up here, too. “Who am I talking to?”
She laughs, rolling her eyes. “You’re talking to me. Gemma Lucas. The girl I’ve always been. The girl that both annoys you and enthralls you. The girl you love to fuck.”