Page 5 of Scattered Ashes (Shattered Promises 4)

I smack her hand away. "Watch it, witch," I warn. "You're crossing a dangerous line putting your hands on me like that."

"You're the one who needs to watch it," she says, a slow grin creeping up her face. "Remember what happens if you back out on our little bargain."

Fuck. I want to punch the grin right off her face. I don't have time for this shit.

"Fine," I grit through my teeth, popping my neck while telling myself to chill the fuck out. "I'll take you to the witch who can help you."

When we land in the living room of Gemma's house, I become too aware of how close I am to her. I can sense her nearness, feel her in my veins, feel her fueling my body with energy, longing, and desire that needs to be filled.

I take a deep inhale to cool myself down and focus on why I'm here.

Everything looks normal: all the chairs are upright, the TV is off, and the photos are still on the wall. They've boarded up the windows, which was smart of them. I remember hearing the news about when the world was first taken over by the Mark of Malefiscus. The letter arrived via Aislin's witch powers, which meant a small, flaming ball of paper landed on my head and singed some of my hair. I read the letter but never replied, just in case the letter fell into the wrong hands.

I knew I needed to protect Gemma in every way possible, and that meant keeping her away from me, no matter how shitty I felt about it. I deserve to feel that way after the hell I've put her through.

But now I'm back in her house, about to blow everything if she discovers I'm here.

"Where is everyone?" Amelia asks, warily glancing around.

The place is quiet, making my Keeper instincts go on high alert. I draw a knife from my pocket.

"I'm not sure."

"What are you doing?" she asks, eyeballing the knife in my hand. "And where's the witch? This better not be a trap."

"It's not." At least, I hope it's not. "Stay here a minute, and I'll go find her."

Amelia takes a seat on the sofa. "Oh, don't worry your pretty little head. I'm not going anywhere." She crosses her legs and sits back.

My fingers itch to shut her up, but I turn my back on her and head for the stairs. With every step I make, I cringe, worried Gemma might hear me. If I play this right, I can get in and out without her ever realizing I was here.

At the top of the stairway, I notice her bedroom door is cracked open, and suddenly my plan goes right out the window. Emotions possess my body like the fucking devil himself, and I can't control my own actions. It is like my legs don't belong to me; they belong to her, only her. Every part of me does.

By the time I reach her door, my heart is about to explode inside my chest. My body scorches with need as I open the door and look inside. I used to be more cautious about mistakes, think things through first, but with Gemma, I have no control over anything. She owns my mind, my body, my soul, and part of me wouldn't have it any other way.

When I see her lying in her bed, I just about lose it. My hands actually fucking shake as I cross the room toward her bed.

She's resting on her side with a blanket pulled over her, her hair a halo across the pillow, and her eyes are shut. I should leave. I'd be a better person if I did, but I'm a selfish fucking asshole who can't walk away.

I reach for her and brush strands of her hair away from her face, and all the emotions I felt in the dream crash through me at once. It takes every ounce of strength I possess not to wake her up and rip her clothes off. I want to kiss her, crash my lips against hers, wake her up by spreading her legs and licking every inch of her. But I can't. I have to stay in control of myself.

She doesn't move as I stroke her cheek, which seems crazy since the electricity is so damn hot I can barely breathe. Then she lets out a long sigh and nuzzles against my hand.

Shit. It's time to go. Now, Alex. Just walk away.

I start to back away but freeze as she rolls over onto her back. What I see makes me so sick, so angry, so possessed by rage I can't see past the anger.

Ropes are cutting into her wrists, binding her hands. Blood covers her neck and stains her shirt.

I sweep her hair back, and my jaw clamps down. There are bite marks on the base of her neck.

I collapse to my knees and cup her face between my hands. Our skin torches as heat flows through my body.

"Gemma, open your eyes," I beg. "Gemma, can you hear me?"

Her eyelids flutter, but she struggles to wake. I press my palm to her forehead and feel how ice-cold her skin is. I shake my head. If he turned her, I'm going to fucking kill him.

"Alex," she mumbles, her eyelids lifting open. She blinks up at me, and then her violet eyes widen.

"You're okay," I say quietly, but with how pale she looks and with how fast the electricity is fading, I'm really not so sure she is.

GEMMA

At first, I think I am dead, that Laylen drained all my blood and left me to rot away in my bed, that Alex is a ghost, that somehow he died and joined me in death. Or maybe I'm dreaming again.

Then I feel the dizziness mixed with the sparkle of electricity, and my body ignites with fire, waking me right up.

"You're here," I mutter, moving to sit up.

As the room spins, vomit burns at my throat.

He places his hands on my shoulders, steadying me as I sway. "Don't move too quickly, okay?" he says gently.

I lift my bound wrists and touch a finger to my neck. "Ow." I wince.

"What happened?" he asks, seeming even more urgent and eager than he normally is.

I don't want to tell him. If I do, he might end up doing something stupid. What Laylen did to me wasn't his fault. Right now, he's under the control of pure and utter evil.

"I can't remember." I mash my lips together when he glares at me, reading right through my bullshit.

"Gemma, don't lie to me." With the knife in his hand, he cuts the ropes and frees me.

"I'm not lying." I rub my wrists, trying not to think about how the ropes got there, but it's all I can think about. "And if I did tell you, you'd just freak out."

"Gemma." He fights to keep calm. "Just tell me what happened, and I swear I'll try to keep my cool."

I think about lying again, wanting to protect Laylen, but then I realize we're probably in danger and need to get the hell out of the house. I jump to my feet, surprising him and my head. The room twirls with bright colors and blurry shapes like a merry-go-round on crack.

"Whoa . . . head rush." I clutch my head, stumbling from side to side.

He wraps his arm around my back then lifts me into his arms. God, it feels so good to be here with him touching me, looking at me with desire in his eyes, just like he did in the dream.

"Did Laylen do this to you?" he asks, his voice cracking as he stares into my eyes.

I nod, unable to look away from him. Want and desire blazes inside my body to the point that I actually start to sweat.

"He couldn't help it, though. He's marked."

He turns pale. "By the Mark of Malefiscus, I'm guessing," he says and I nod. "How did he get marked?" Then, without warning, he sets me down on the bed and reels for the door, his knuckles tightening as he raises his knife. "Wait. Is he still here? And where the hell are Aislin and Aleesa?"

I sigh heavily as I lower my feet to the floor, wanting to go to him, to hug him, run my fingers through his messy brown hair, kiss his soft lips, do all sorts of things to his lean, muscular body that I haven't done in weeks except in my dreams.

"They all have the mark."

He shakes his head, a deep growl rumbling in his chest. "How the hell did that happen? I thought Stephan had to put the mark on them. And if he was here, I'm sure you wouldn't be."

"I really don't know." I offer him an apologetic look. "One minute, the house was totally quiet, and the next"--I flick my wrist, gesturing at my neck--"Laylen freaked out and bit me."

His jaw tautens as he stares at the bite marks on my neck. "So, you don't know if he's still here?"

I shake my head. "The last thing

I remember is that they tied me up."

A loud crash from downstairs sends me leaping toward him and desperately grabbing his arm. He looks down at my fingers delving into his skin, and desire flashes in his eyes again, sending a spiral of heat coiling in my stomach.

My stomach.

Suddenly, I remember there's so much more I need to tell him.

Before I can get the words out, Alex takes my hand, and holding the knife out in front of him, he heads for the stairs, keeping me close.

"Stay here," he whispers when we reach the top of the stairway.

"No way," I hiss. "You don't just get to show up and take over. I'm going down with you." I march past him and down the stairs, cupping my hand over my neck, hyperaware of the heartbeat inside me.

Alex chases after me, taking the stairs by two. He beats me to the bottom and flashes me a cocky grin, so I stick my tongue out at him, making him chuckle.

For a moment, it feels like we're just two normal people playing around and flirting. Then I hear the other heart beat as another bang rips from the house. We tense and Alex spins around, positioning me behind him.

"Stay behind me," he says. "I'm being serious, Gemma. I need you safe."

There are a thousand things I want to say to him, yet it doesn't seem like the right time for any of it. So instead, I settle on a, "Yes, boss," which causes him to look over his shoulder, his green eyes darkening as he quickly drinks me in from head to toe. Then he tears his gaze off me, and we tiptoe for the living room, the floor creaking under from our footsteps.

As we head farther into the darkness of the house, I find myself wishing we hadn't put praesidium everywhere. Sure, it keeps the Foreseers out, but it also traps me in.

As we step through the doorway, I stop when I see a woman lounging on the sofa, eating one of the leftover grilled cheese sandwiches.

"Who the hell are you?" I ask then stop when I notice the crescent moon mark and realize it's not just a woman, but a witch.

Instinctively, I shift my weight and lift my leg, ready to fight, but Alex's arm shoots out, holding me back.

"Easy, tiger." He bites back a smile. "I brought her here with me."

My eyebrows knit as I gape at Alex. "You brought a witch into the house?"

"Amelia's helping me with something," he says, being evasive.

"Is she the witch?" Amelia asks, gawking at my eyes.

I shake my head and cross my arms. "No."

"Then what are you?" Her eyes light up as she wolfs the rest of the sandwich down. "You have so much power flowing off you." Her gaze dances between Alex and me. "Both of you do."

"We just stuck our fingers in a socket," Alex replies expressionlessly. "Hurt like a bitch."

"Don't try to be cute, little boy." Amelia narrows her eyes as she strides forward and jabs a finger against Alex's chest. "You promised me the witch who could remove the mark of evil? Where is she?"

"Alex," I hiss, shocked. "Why would you do that?"

Alex brushes me off with a shrug. "She just needs Aislin's help taking the mark off her daughter. It's no big deal."

Amelia laughs sharply. "That's all? Really? Do I need to remind you of what's at stake for you if you don't bring me the witch?"

I cross my arms and wait for Alex to explain, but he simply shakes his head and gives a half-shrug.

"Look," he says to Amelia with mild tolerance, "we ran into a problem."

The witch folds her arms and stares him down. "Not we. You."

Alex sighs. "It's out of my hands. Aislin . . . She's gone over to the Malefiscus side. Even if we find her, she's not going to take the mark off your daughter unless we can get her to take it off herself, which doesn't seem very likely."

Rage flares in Amelia's eyes as she raises her hands above her head and wiggles her fingers until they glisten a golden orange. "Well then I guess it's time for you to die."

I do a double-take at Amelia. "What? You can't kill him just for not bringing you Aislin. It's not even his fault."

"We can try to find her and see how it goes. Maybe you could use a Tracker Spell on her." Nervousness creeps into Alex's voice, which puts me on edge since he rarely shows signs of being nervous.

Amelia shakes her head. "If that was possible, I'd have found her already. But she's off the grid. No one can find her with magic." Without warning, her fingers sizzle and shoot sparks.

I lunge for her, but she dodges to the side, and then the sparks shoot from her hand and hit Alex.

His eyes widen, and he buckles to the floor.

"You killed him!" I shout, trembling from head to toe.

No, he can't be dead.

Nicholas said so.

But the longer he lays there on the floor, the more I fear Nicholas has once again fed me lies.

The witch scurries around to the coffee table where a black candle is glowing. She picks up a piece of amethyst and chants something under her breath as I hurry for her, ready to kick some witch ass.

"You're not going anywhere until you bring him back," I demand, reaching out to grab her.

She plunges the amethyst into the flame right as I catch hold of her sleeve. My body erupts with heat, and I wrench back, wincing and bumping my knee on the corner of the table. By the time I regain my balance, she's gone.

"Dammit." I rush back to Alex and slide down on my knees next to him. "Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead." I place my hands on his cheeks and watch his chest, but he isn't breathing. And the electricity feels dull, lifeless. I suck back tears and move my fingers to his wrist, feeling for a pulse. "You aren't dead." Tears spill from my eyes. "Nicholas said you couldn't . . . not without me. And I'm here so . . . Please, Alex, just wake up."

The only response I get is the sound of my tears and the heartbeat echoing inside me.

ALEX

"Kiss me," she whispers, looking down at me, her brown hair a veil around her face. "Kiss me until we both take our last breaths."

"Then what?" I ask, staring up at her. She's so fucking beautiful I can't stand it.

"Then we die together," she says simply.

"Is that what you want?"

She nods. "It's all I've ever wanted."

Leaning up, I press my lips to hers, and she somehow breathes life back into me. I can feel myself returning, my heart beating, the electricity igniting as I come alive again . . .

Through the darkness, I can hear Gemma freaking out as she searches for my pulse. She keeps taking sharp breathes, and every time her skin brushes mine, my body hums. Part of me wishes I was dead, that it was all over, and I could die happy knowing she was still alive. She could live her life, happy and free. Of course, even if I was dead, my father would still be alive, and as long as he's breathing, Gemma's life will be in danger.

I force my eyelids open, and my gaze collides with her beautiful and wildly insane violet eyes. Without even thinking, I cup the back of her head and pull her lips to mine, which is stupid. Reckless. Dangerous. But she drives me crazy in the best, most dangerous way possible.

"I kept having dreams about this," I whisper against her lips.

She breathes raggedly against my mouth, looking dazed. "About what?"

"About kissing you." I plant a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. "About striping you bare and slipping inside you." When her breathing quickens, I continue, despite knowing I should stop. "You begged me to give it to you harder."

Her breath catches in her throat as she pushes away from me. At first, I think I spooked her, that maybe she's the one who has the self-control and knows we need to end this moment. But then she says, "You had a dream about that?"

I nod, brushing my fingers across her cheekbone. "It was one of the best dreams I've ever had."

Her eyes are massive as she stares down at me in bafflement. "I had the same dream . . . How is that possible?" Her brows dip. "You don't think I somehow used my Foreseer power to bring you into my dream, do you?"

"I'm not sure, but I wouldn't be surprised." I

sit up, and she leans back to give me room. "At this point, I'm starting to believe almost anything is possible."

"Anything, huh?" Her skin pales as she touches her stomach.

"Are you okay?" I ask, scooting toward her.

She swallows hard. "I should be asking you that."

"I'm fine," I assure her, more worried about how sick she suddenly looks than what happened to me just moments ago.

"Alex, you just about died."

"I know, but I didn't." I want to touch her again, but the electricity is already scorching, so I fight the compulsion by clenching my fists. "Although, I'm not sure why I'm not dead. I should be."

She shakes her head, her eyes still wide. "You can't die . . . not without me."

"You think that's how we're supposed to go? Together? Is that how you see it?"

"Yes, but that's not why I think you can't die without me. Nicholas told me something about us."

My face twists in disgust at the mention of that faerie. I fucking hate Nicholas. Not just because he's a pain in the ass, but because of the way he looks at Gemma and all the inappropriate stuff he's always saying to her.

"Wait . . ." I scratch my head in confusion, realizing something. "I thought Nicholas is dead?"

"He is." She sighs, lifting her hand and showing me the ring her father gave her. "I can see ghosts now. Well, just two ghosts--Nicholas and my mom."

My puzzlement deepens. "Wait, your mom . . . but that would mean . . ."

"She died." She blows out an uneven breath as her hands start to shake.

I stab my nails into my flesh until I draw blood. "My father killed her, didn't he?"

She rapidly shakes her head, scooting toward me. "No, she did it to herself to protect me."

"Are you okay?"

She shrugs. "I'm still trying to decide how I feel. I mean, I hardly knew her, and what I did know about her, I didn't like, but . . ."

"But she's your mom, and you care about her a lot." I reach for her, wanting to comfort her, but then draw back, worried I'll end up killing her. "It's going to be okay. I know it doesn't sound that way right now, but her death eventually won't feel as heavy."

"But it'll always feel a little heavy?" she asks.

I shrug. "Losing someone is always hard."

"I thought I lost you a ton of times," she says quietly, staring down at her lap.

"Hey." I cup her face and force her to look at me. "I'm not going anywhere."

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