Shattered Promises - Page 15/44

The temperature continues to plummet as layers of ice build over the car and the roof begins to concave under the pressure. Cloaked creatures are everywhere, their eyes flickering as aggressively as the flame of the candle. Their capes flap in the wind and create a canopy over the car. The temperature drops beyond cold. Death is in the air.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, shaking my hand, which has tinted purple. “What’s happening to me?”

Alex encloses his hands around mine and brings them an instant relief from the cold. “Try to relax, okay? Aislin will have us out of here in just a second.” There’s sincerity in his eyes which I’ve never seen before and the electricity connects me to him, forcing me to submit to him.

Aislin is doing some kind of voodoo witch thing with the candle and the amethyst and it’s creating a cloud of violet smoke. The smoke slips into my lungs and burns like a fatal toxin.

I cough and my head falls into Alex’s shoulder “What is she doing?” I whisper, clutching onto his arms.

“Just stay calm,” Alex lulls as his hand runs up and down my back. Sedation takes over my mind and I slip into a state of exhaustion caused from the chill that has tugged my body close to a state of hypothermia. Or maybe I’m dying. Death. It seems right, like all the pieces of a puzzle have finally been connected. “I promise everything will be okay. Just trust me.”

And I do, because at the moment he’s all I have. So despite the fact that I’ve seen two of him and that he keeps talking about mirages, Death Walkers and transporting, I close my eyes and fall against him as my body is rendered motionless by the cold.

The car gives an abrupt jerk to the side as one of the creatures charges into it. Fog swarms beneath the crevasses of the doors and windows and ice glazes my skin and stings my lungs. I want to sleep. Forever. Yeah, that doesn’t sound so bad.

“Stay awake.” Alex’s voice sounds so far away. I crack my eyes open and he hugs me against his chest and kisses my forehead. The gesture brings warmth, but is rapidly erased as the car rocks again “Aislin, hurry up.”

“Per is calx ego lux lucis via,” Aislin whispers from the backseat. The fire lights up against her face and her amplified eyes.

The ice that has built around the car begins to fracture and chip away. I can see the mirage Alex, watching me from outside, his face becoming clearer with each fragment of ice that breaks off. There’s something in his eyes that tells me I’ll see him again many more times and that he’ll bring me harm, perhaps even kill me one day. And looking at him feels I’m finally looking into my future and instead of life, I see him and, in him, I see my death.

A purple glow erupts through the car and the windows implode. Glass flies everywhere and Alex’s arm comes up over my head to protect me. I let out a scream as a thick darkness weaves into my body and steals every aspect of myself away and again, I’m left feeling numb.

Chapter 8

“What if we were to die tomorrow?” I’m lying on my back in a grassy field staring up at the night sky with my hand out to the side of me. “Would you be happy?”

“I could die right now and I’d be happy.” Alex rolls on his side and props himself up on his elbow.

“That’s such a line,” I say, but my insides flutter. “You seriously can’t come up with anything better than that?”

He laughs gently as he eyes my lips. “Oh yeah, is that so?”

“Completely so.” I wet my lips in anticipation.

Grinning, he positions his body closer to me. Pivoting onto his hip, he flips on top of me and covers his body over mine. The hardness of his chest presses against me. With each inhale and exhale, I grow more anxious at what’s about to happen. Because I know that something amazing is about to happen.

“Gemma, I’m happier right now than I’ve ever been,” he whispers. “Even if we’re being hunted.”

The moonlight mirrors in his eyes and a pale light rings around the pupils. I want him, more than I’ve ever wanted anything. So I let myself have him. Grabbing onto the front of his shirt, I crush his lips onto mine and seal us together.

I pull away to whisper, “Me too.” Then I fasten my legs around him firmly and he presses down in response. With each breath, my nipples stroke against his chest, and trigger warmth between my legs. My fingers drift down the front of his chest and underneath his shirt. He follows my lead, his palm gliding down the front of me, and then his fingers sneak up the front of my shirt. While his one hand tangles in my hair, his other hand cups my breast and his thumb grazes across my nipple. A fire ignites through my body, but it isn’t satisfying the hunger inside. I need to be closer to him. Desperately.

Moving my body back, I sit up, forcing him to give me room. Grabbing the bottom of my shirt, I yank it over my head and chuck it over into the grass. I shake my hair out and my bare chest heaves as he deliberately takes me in.

“What are you doing?” His eyes are glossed over like he’s high. “You know we’re not supposed to be doing this.”

I kneel up in front of him, vulnerable, knowing he can shoot me down. “I don’t care. I don’t care about any of it anymore. Let me die, but let me die happy.”

His eyes scroll up my stomach, to my chest, and conclusively reside on my eyes. He reaches behind his head and tugs his own shirt off. His chest is solid and his stomach is lined with muscles. I want to touch him, more than anything. We move for each other like magnets and, as our bare chests collide, passion crazes every single part of me. I’m happy. Blissfully, mind-numbingly happy.

And in the end, that is all that matters.

***

A light flashes and is echoed by an explosion inside my head. My vision resurfaces and my face is inches away from the floor. My nose smacks against the hard wood and my bones pop. I moan as pain erupts through my nose and jaw.

“God dammit.” I roll over to my back, clutching my nose and staring up at a red ceiling. “Where am I?”

Flipping onto my stomach, I push up to my feet. The room is small, the walls are red, and there’s a leather sectional sofa in the corner. Bookshelves line the room, along with windows, but curtains block the view outside. “Am I dreaming?”

“No, you’re very much awake.” A hand comes down on my shoulder and a surge of electricity spirals down my arm. I reel around, swinging my hand and slap the hand from my shoulder.

“Relax.” Alex stands only a foot away from me. There are cuts on his face and on his arm. The front of his shirt is torn and there is glass in his hair.

“Are you okay?” Aislin is behind him, observing me from over his shoulder. Her face is streaked with lines of mascara like she’s been crying and some of the ends of her hair have been singed.

“Gemma,” Alex says when I don’t respond. He exchanges a look with Aislin and then moves toward me. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”

I’m conquered with the compulsion to throw my arms around him and I step toward him, but the feeling dissipates. The memories of what happened rematerialize—the madness, the mirage, the monsters—and I back up with my hands out in front of me. “I’m thinking you need to get the hell away from me.” A sharp pain throbs to the surface of my left rib and I hunch over moaning. “Something hurts.” Alex moves for me and my hand shoots up. "Stay away from me. I mean it.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He pauses, waiting for me to settle down. I take a deep breath and keep my eyes targeted on him as he makes the rest of the journey toward me. “You need to hold still. You’re bleeding.”

I’m suddenly aware that blood is dripping down the back of my hand. I lift up the edge of my coat and see a small piece of glass sticking out of my ribs. “That’s disgusting.”

He chuckles under his breath. “Yeah, but I think you’re going to be okay. In fact, you seem subdued.”

“I feel subdued.” Like if my emotions are malfunctioning. I straighten my shoulders, even though the pain is crippling, and compel what little irritation is left inside me to show itself. “You think I’m going to be okay? Seriously. Because my mind is racing so fast, I can’t even grasp what just happened.” I throw one of my hands in the air. “I mean, what was all that?”

“Just relax,” Alex insists and then turns to Aislin. “You better go find Laylen and see if he has a first aid kit or something... Although, I’m still trying to figure out why you transported us here at all. Seriously, out of all the places to go, you brought us here?”

“It was an accident.” Aislin’s cheeks go pink as she tucks her chin down and lets her hair veil her face. “And you should be grateful I got us out of there before…” She glances at me, then trails off and hurries for the door. “I’ll go find Laylen.”

“Who’s Laylen?” I wince as the fragment of glass shifts.

Alex motions his hand to the sofa as he tears off the corner of his shirt. “Go sit down so I can look at it.”

I disregard the pain and the blood running down the back of my hand. “Not until you tell me where we are and how the hell we got here. What was all that back there? Because right now, I’m thinking that I’ve got to be dreaming, yet it all seems so real.”

“I really don’t think that’s the most important thing right now,” Alex interrupts with a disapproving shake of his head. “Considering you have a piece of glass sticking out of your rib.”

“And you have a giant cut on your arm.” I point my finger at his sliced open forearm. “Yet, all you seem to be concerned with is me.”

“Yeah, and my concern for you is what caused all this,” he mutters. As my eyebrows furrow, he sighs. “Look, go sit down and I’ll try to explain everything.”

“How do I know you’re you, though? What if you’re that mirage thing I saw back there?”

He wraps the torn piece of shirt around the cut on his arm. “You really think I am?”

I swallow hard and glance around the room, at the bookcases, the old books that look ancient and the window that is concealed by a curtain. What’s out there? “I really don’t know what to think. Seconds ago I was in the forest and Aislin was doing all that weird witchy stuff with that crystal and candle. Now I’m in some person’s house I just—I just don’t get it.”

He studies me as he presses his lips together and pops his bruised knuckles. “You know, you’re nothing like what I thought you’d be.”

“What does that mean exactly?” I ask quizzically. “You always say things like that. They make no sense to me, just like a lot of the stuff you say.”

My response seems to entertain him. He smiles softly as his fingers drift toward my cheek. I flinch as his thumb grazes across my cheekbone and my tender skin is kissed by an eruption of sparks. He draws his hand back, which has some blood on it, and he wipes it off on the side of his jeans.

He inhales and then his sturdy chest puffs out as he lets out a slow breath. “You feel that right?”