The Promise (8 page)

Of course hers ended up being physical pain, not emotional. But I was okay with that.

I studied the photo of Iceland as we made our way around the back of the school where some of the stoners liked to hide out and smoke. But it wasn t break time, so I knew it would be vacant. Out of the view of the school yard and windows, I knew it would be safe.

But when I ducked behind the garbage can, I was caught off guard by a vampire feeding &

Mr. Sterling?

Alex and I exchanged baffled looks and then Alex swiped a stick from the ground. The woman vampire with auburn hair, dark skin, and a triangle mark on her neck the Mark of Malefiscus kept draining the blood from my old astronomy teacher s neck. Alex prowled like a predator behind her and with one quick motion, rammed the stick through the vampire s chest. Her perfect body exploded into ashes, blackening the snow where she once stood.

From behind his glasses, Mr. Sterling s large eyes blinked uncontrollably.

What happened & I don t &

He cupped his hand around his bleeding neck and Alex s guided him away from the garbage can.

Go inside and tell the nurse you were cut,

he instructed.

Mr. Sterling nodded, bewildered as he staggered for the back door of the school.

Ready?

Alex asked, eager not to waste more time.

I held the picture in one hand and Alex s hand in the other. I took in the snow lining the grass, the water, the shallow hills, feeling myself there. And when I opened my eyes, I was standing in the picture, only we were on a road.

Son of a

Alex cursed as the nose of an airplane dipped for us. We ran, tripping across the ice, and barely missed getting taken out by a plane. We didn t stop running until we reached the fence, the top trimmed with barbed wire.

How do we get over?

I asked, clutching onto the metal links

Alex s eyes searched for an escape route, while my gaze fixated on what was beyond the side of the fence. A parking lot, packed with cars. And there was one a bright red one that I focused on. I slid my hand onto his arm and felt the zap as I foresaw us over to the red car.

Well, I guess that s one way to do it.

He tried not to smile, but the corners of his mouth threatened upward.

So what s next?

A taxi.

He weaved thru the parking lot, his shoes crunching in the snow. I scurried after him, struggling to keep up. You know, it was confusing how this Keeper s thing worked. When I was fighting, I could be graceful. Yet, here I was walking across the snow, and my feet didn t want to stay under me.

The entrance doors glided open and we began our search for a payphone. But finally we gave up and Alex asked a security guard if there was a phone we could use. He must have thought we were a couple of homeless people, with the dirty look he gave us.

Thankfully, he spoke English and directed us to a phone booth, where I watched people scurry back and forth for the terminals, wondering if any of them were faeries, witches, or vampires in disguise.

He hung up the phone.

Taxi s on its way.

We found an empty seat and waited for the taxi to show up. Alex was jiggling his knee up and down, nervous energy effervescing through him. My skin grew hotter and I started to sweat underneath the jacket

So are we going to ever split up again,

I asked, throwing him off guard.

He deliberated his answer gravely.

Honestly, it d probably be better if we did.

I nodded, agreeing, yet not agreeing.

Okay. But when?

Since we re here &

His eyebrow arched.

We could just wait it out and if things get too bad, then we ll promise to go our separate ways.

I let out a soft laugh as I turned my hand over, tracing the scar of our forever promise.

Is this just a verbal promise or do we have to cut our hands again?

Hesitantly, he took my hand, dragging his thumb down the scar. He brought my palm to his lips and brushed it with a kiss. Then he returned it to my lap and said nothing more.

I wondered how long we were going to survive each other.

The taxi ride was a long one. The air smelled of old cheese and sweaty socks, and I had to hold my breath most of the way. But that was only part of the problem. Somehow I d forgotten how hot and intense it was when Alex and I were squished in a car together. It was like a lightning storm had erupted in a confined space, the air static charged. At least when we kissed it was a quick rush of energy, but this & it was going to be the death of us if we didn t arrive at our destination soon.

Just when I was thinking I was going to pass out, the taxi pulled up to the curb. The slightly tilted street was outlined with two-story houses compacted together, the lamp posts illuminating the snow flurrying down from the sky. We hopped out, Alex paying the driver before he sped off.

Which one is it?

I asked.

Alex slid the paper out of his pocket. Then he walked up the street, glancing at each house, finally coming to a stop in front of a white one with a green roof and snow-coated shrubbery trimming the yard.

I think this is it.

He returned the paper to his pocket and swung the gate open. We walked up to the front door, my eyes wandering up the quiet street.

Are we safe?

I asked.

Are we ever safe?

He knocked on the door.

The only answer we got was an echo. After pounding on the door two more times, he went for the doorknob, but I swatted his hand away.

His green eyes sparkled like emeralds as he stared at me with an amused look.

Is something wrong?

It just seems like every time this happens every time someone doesn t answer the door it ends badly. Like we get chased down by a crazy witch or something,

I said, remembering Aislin and mine s little journey and how it ended with a witch and her store burning down.

You want to wait out here, while I go in and check things out?

he asked.

No, I don t want anyone to go in. I want the door to open and your mother to be standing there, looking happy to see you.

His mouth sunk to a frown.

Yeah, I don t think that s going to happen.

I know.

I sighed.

But it d be so nice, if just once, something was that easy.

But I knew better. He knew better. And he didn t say anything else, taking his knife and creaking the door open.

Stay behind me,

he whispered and then we crept inside.

The house was bare, the walls scorched with residue from an old fire. I wiped my hand along the burnt wallpaper and rubbed my fingers together.

It s ash,

I said, wiping my hands on my jeans.

He looked perplexed.

It s weird, like it burnt on the inside but not on the outside.

We stared at each other and flinched as a wail resonated through the empty house.

What was that,

I hissed.

He swallowed hard.

I think it s my mother.

Chapter 16

(Alex)

It was a sound that put hairs on end, raised bodies from the grave, warned people of their impending death. This was the second time I d heard a Banshee s cry and I wondered if each one shaved more and more time off my life.

I kept my knife out because I wasn t sure how she d be. Would she appear in her hag form? Or look like herself?

I heard the thumping of her footsteps coming down the stairs, and I shifted to the side, putting myself between Gemma and the stairway, just in case. When I saw the figure, long brown hair, bright green eyes, I guessed it was her. But the similarity in our eyes was so striking that I swear hers had to be fake an illusion of my own mind.

Her hand trailed along the railing until she reached the bottom of the stairs. At first she looked angry, like I was nothing more than an intruder. But then she smiled, her lips opening to speak.

But the sound of her voice was nothing but a screech. Gemma and I flung our hands over our ears as my mother shook her head.

Sorry.

Her voice was angelic. She motioned for us to put down our hands.

It s a habit,

she explained.

I nodded and then she was hugging me tightly like I was still a child.

You re so grown up. I can t believe it.

Then her gaze darted over my shoulder, eyes lighting up.

And who s this?

But she grew quiet, undoubtedly catching sight of Gemma s eyes. It was always her eyes that gave her away. They were hauntingly beautiful.

Oh my.

My mother opened her arms, leaning in to give Gemma a hug. Gemma looked uncomfortable with the situation. Her broken, emotionless, parentless past made her uneasy with affection.

I can t believe you made it through. Although, with all the madness going on, I highly doubt it s over yet.

You know about the mark?

I asked and then shook my head.

Of course you do. You re a & faerie.

Something occurred to me at that moment. What if she had the mark?

But it was like she could read my mind. She rolled up her sleeves and lifted her hair away from her neck.

All mark free. Even my Keeper s mark s gone now that I ve died.

You re lucky,

I muttered.

She frowned at me.

You need that for now. It ll help you stay alive.

She was right, but it didn t mean I liked it.

So we need your help with something,

I said, wanting to talk to her more, but knowing I was running out of time.

I know you do,

she said.

I ve been waiting for you to show up.

My grip constricted on my knife.

Then why didn t you come looking for me.

I can t leave this place,

she said, with sadness in her voice.

This is the place I was assigned to watch over.

So how are you going to help us?

I asked.

If you re stuck here?

I ll help you escape from here.

I gazed around at the charcoal building.

Did this place burn down once?

No, this is death.

She said it matter-of-factly.

So I m guessing you need to get to the Afterlife to see the queen.

I nodded.

That would be the problem.

Well, it s not going to be easy.

She sat down on the bottom step.

There are certain things required to enter the land of the dead without actually being dead.

What kind of things?

Gemma asked and I got the impression she already understood that these things were probably bad.

The first thing,

my mother eyed her ring,

you already have.

Gemma twisted the ring.

And the second?

Is looking like you re dead,

she said lightly.

Gemma winced.

Look like I m dead.

Okay, how do we make it look like I m dead?

I asked.

Not you sweetie.

Her eyes settled on Gemma.

Her.

No freaking way.

My voice came out composed, but on the inside I felt like I d swallowed a jar of needles.

It has to be me,

Gemma said, just like she always did. In her eyes this was all her fault, even if she was trying to fix a mess my father and her father created.

You don t know that.

I stepped in front of her.

You just always assume it has to be you.

She shook her head, her hair going everywhere and I had to stop myself from brushing it back.

No, I ve seen it. I m dead in a coffin and Nicholas is waiting for me.

How long have you been hiding this?

I rubbed my hands across my face, wanting to yell at her and at the same time kiss her. I flexed my hands a few times, choking back the anger bursting in me.

Well, that still doesn t mean it has to be you.

Yes it does,

my mother and her both said at the same time.

My mother stood to her feet, giving me a sympathetic look.

She has the ring, she has the ghost connection, and she s the one who shifted the vision that led to this.

I started to speak, but she talked over me.

Now, I know it s not fair I know it s not her fault. But that s the way things are how life, works.

Okay, so what to do I need to do?

Gemma asked.

I mean, how do I look dead?

This is a stupid idea,

I interrupted, but they both blew me off.

You ll need to have a funeral. Helena needs to think you re dead.

Gemma was nodding, like this plan didn t bother her at all.

Okay, I can do that.

We need a different plan,

I said loudly.

One where she doesn t have to die.

And we need a witch,

my mother kept going.

One that we can trust.

She turned to me, hopeful.

Aislin s marked, if that s what you re getting at,

I said flatly.

She can t help us.

I might know someone. I ll be right back.