“The answers to your problems aren’t in your ceiling?” It said.
I gave a quick glance from left to right. “Who’s there?”
“That’s not the question you should be asking.” The voice tskedme. “You’re not focusing on the problem.” I sat up, wondering if I was losing it. “Are you the one who left the note?”
He made an annoying buzzer sound. “Wrong question again.”
“Who are you?” I asked, climbing off my bed. “And why does it sound like your disguising your voice like a game show host.”
“Gemma.” The voice sounded so disappointed. “You need to stop focusing on other things and start focusing on saving-the-world.”
“That’s kind of what I’ve been doing,” I said, offended. I walked over to my closet and threw it open expecting to see someone hiding inside, but nope. It was empty.
“Come on, Gemma, ask me the right question?” I shook my head, frustrated that I was now hearing voices while I was awake. But I decided to give it try. “The right question…How can I get into the mapping ball?”
“With the Purple Flame.” The voice answered in the same annoying talk-show-host tone that I knew was a disguise.
“I already got the Purple Flame,” I told the voice. “It didn’t work.”
Silence.
I sighed, and mimicking the annoying talk-show-host tone, I asked, “How do I get the Purple Flame to work with the mapping ball.”
“ Ding, ding,there you go,” the voice said with an exaggerated cheerfulness.
Oh, my God. This was the weirdest thing ever.
“Now look at your arm,” the voice commanded.
I did. “Okay…it looks like an arm, well, except for the ugly olive-green lines tracing my skin.” I turned my hand over and looked at the hideous lines Stasha left on my skin when she tried to kill me. “Wait, is that what’s doing it?” Silence.
“hello,” I called out, trying not to be too loud on the chance that someone might hear me and think I had gone off the deep end.
“You can’t restore life with death in your hand,” the voice said in a serious tone.
Strangely enough, that actually made sense. “But it’s permanent, so how can I make it go away?”
“Go back and ask her to take it away.” The voice was fading.
“Are you crazy?” I said, glancing under my bed, wondering if someone was hiding under there. “Stasha will kill me.”
There was no one under the bed so I stood up and put my hands on my hips. “Okay, so are you suggesting that I go to the person who tried to kill me and ask her to take her death out of my hand?”
Nothing. No response. No annoying ding, dings.
Great. Now what? I sighed. I guess I was going to Stasha’s
I decided it was best not to go alone. I might sound like a coward, but I didn’t care. Visiting a girl who had tried to murder me was making me a little bit edgy. I needed backup just in case something bad went down, and I was guessing something would. The best person I could think of to take with me was Laylen because a) unlike Alex, he had never dated Stasha, therefore, his presence would keep any jealous fits of rage to a bare minimum and b) Laylen was immortal so Stasha’s touch wouldn’t kill him.
It was still early as I tiptoed down the hallway to the room that Laylen was sleeping in. Alex was still downstairs—I could hear him moving around as I crept by the stairway. I decided not to tell him I was going, because he would want to come, and like I said, this just didn’t seem like a good idea.
I cracked open the door and peeked my head in.
“Laylen,” I whispered, but all I got in response was a snore.
Great. I hope he is decent.
I slipped inside, shut the door, and flipped on the light.
“Laylen.”
I scared him—I got that as he jumped out of the bed, arms flying, ready to attack.
He calmed down when he saw it was me. “Gemma, what the heck?”
I pulled an ‘I-m-sorry face’, but my cheeks heated as I realized he was not decent. He only had on a pair of boxers and I quickly turned around to hide my blushing face.
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head at myself. “I should have knocked first.”
“It’s okay,” he said, moving around, hopefully putting on a pair of pants. “But what exactly are you doing.” I heard the sound of a zipper shutting, but I didn’t dare turn around until he gave me the okay. “I need your help with something,” I explained, my eyes glued to the door.
The jingling of a belt buckle. “Okay, you can turn around.” I waited a second longer before I turned around and I was relieved to find that he now had pants on, but he was still shirtless and I couldn’t help but be dazzled by the sight. I bit at my bottom lip, trying not to stare as he slipped on a black t-shirt, covering up both his Keeper mark cupping his shoulder and his muscles.
“You good?” He asked. “Because you look a little flushed.”
“I’m fine,” I assured him, but my skin was betraying me.
“That’s what you get for barging in on people while they’re sleeping,” he teased making me blush even more.
Pull yourself together.I cleared my throat, trying to clear out any embarrassment still lingering inside me. “So, yeah, I need your help with something.”
He raised his eyebrows at me curiously. “Oh yeah, with what?”
“With paying a visit to Stasha.”
His expression fell flat. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” He glanced at my olive-green scared arm.
“Considering what happened the last time you went there.”
“But I need to,” I said. “The Purple Flame won’t work unless I do.”
“Wait, you got the Purple Flame…when?”
I guess I needed to back up a few steps and tell him what happened.
“So you think the scars on your arms are what’s stopping the Purple Flame from working?” he asked after I finished telling him what was going on. Well, minus the details of how I had gotten the information about the scars. I mean, Laylen was understanding and everything, but telling him that a talk-show-host voice told me I needed to visit Stasha…I even thought I sounded crazy.
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”
“But how?” He swept his blue-tipped bangs away from his forehead. “How do you know?”
Crap. “Would you believe me if I said that a little birdie told me?"
He gave me a look like he thought I was insane, but Laylen being Laylen did not press further. “Okay, if that’s what you think, then let’s go to Stasha’s to get the marks removed from your arm.” He rubbed his jawline with a thoughtful expression. “But if she tries to kill you again, I might have to use some violence.”
“And that’s okay with me.” I got to my feet and took his hand. “Are you ready?”
“I’m ready,” he replied, standing to his feet, towering over me.
I shut my eyes and moments later, we were being swept away.
Chapter 27
The plants. How could I forget about the plants? Yet I did, not remembering until I was standing under them as they hung from the olive-green ceiling of Stasha’s living room.
“Careful,” I told Laylen, pointing up at the ceiling. “They come alive.”
He glanced up at the vines warily. “They do?” I nodded. “They attacked me the last time I was here.” Laylen pulled a disgusted face at the vines and then we crept through the house to find Stasha. But we found the house empty.
“I don’t think she’s here,” I said, announcing the obvious.
“Good observation,” he joked and I pulled a face at him.
“But that just means we can take her by surprise.” I pointed a finger at him. “I like the way you think.” But, then, I grew serious. “You seem better…a little bit anyway with the whole,” I pointed at my teeth, “thing.” He flopped down on the living room couch and rested his arms across the top of it. “I am doing a little bit better…but I mean, it’s still there.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Did you know Aislin came to me and said she was sorry for everything…it was really weird.”