The Vision

This empty feeling choked up inside me. I tried to open my eyes, to see where I was, but I couldn’t. Then came the voice. A voice I knew vaguely—my father’s voice.



“You can’t give up,” he whispered. “You need to fix my mistakes.”



They’re your mistakes, so you fix them, I wanted to say, but I couldn’t speak. In fact I wasn’t even sure I had a mouth anymore.



“You can do it, my Gemma,” he said. “I know you can.”



But what if I can’t?



“Now open your eyes,” he commanded. “Today is not the day you’re going to die, Gemma Lucas.”



Why was he always saying this to me? Did he even know when my death would come?



My eyelids slowly lifted open. Light. Alex and me by the lake. Hugging. Ice everywhere.



Why did it always come back to this?



The bright light carried me away.



The first thing I was aware of was that I was lying in a very soft bed, like I had fallen asleep in a pile of feathers. The next thing I noticed was how bad my body hurt, like every bone in my body had snapped in two. My stomach was in the most pain, like someone had drilled a hole in it.



I finally willed my eyelids to open. The light stung at my eyes and I blinked several times as I slowly sat up.



“Oh, God,” I hunched over and cradled my arm around my stomach, trying not to cry out in pain. I lifted the bottom of my blood-stained t-shirt and saw a very large section of my stomach was bandaged over.I sifted through my memories, trying to remember. “What happened?”



“We got in a car accident.” Alex’s voice startled me. He was standing in the doorway, tired bags under his eyes, his hair a mess and not in an intentional way.There was something in his expression that I couldn’t quite place; tiredness…pain...or maybe it was vulnerability.



He stepped cautiously into the room, which I now noticed was overwhelmed with plants. Yes, plants. They were everywhere. On shelves, on the dresser; there were even leafy vines dangling from the olive-colored ceiling.



“What is this place?” I asked, staring up at the vines.



He sat down on the foot of the bed, keeping some distance between us. “It’s Stasha’s…the plants are good for her gift.”



I pulled a face. “Oh, yippy.” I shifted my body weight and the muscles of my stomach tightened. I winced. “So, we were in a car accident?”



He arched an eyebrow at me. “You don’t remember?”



I shook my head. “Not really. I mean, kind of…I remember the thing in the road.”



“That thing in the road was a Death Walker.”



I tensed. “Was—does that mean—”



“No, it was just a stray.” He shrugged. “It happens sometimes….one that’s gotten lost from the pack.”



They sounded like wolves.



I nodded and pointed at my stomach. “So what happened here?”



He took an unsteady breath as if the memory upset him.“A piece of glass cut you.” He brushed his finger across my hairline.“You also hit your head.”



“It felt like I was dying,” I said softly as I touched the tender spot on my head.



Fear filled his eyes. “You were.”



I sat on that for a moment, frozen in shock. “But I didn’t?” I asked it as a question. A very stupid question. Obviously I wasn’t dead. “Is everyone else okay?” I asked.



He didn’t answer, staring straight ahead at the wall.



“Is everyone okay?” I repeated in a panic.



Still nothing.



“It’s not Aislin…” My voice quivered and tears stung at my eyes.



“No, it’s not Aislin,” he said hurriedly. “She’s fine.”



“Well, then, what is it? I can tell something’s wrong, so just tell me,” I pleaded.



He ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s Nicholas…he’s dead.”



Chapter 8



At first I wasn’t sure I heard him right.



Dead?



Dead.



Nicholas is dead



What was I supposed to do with this?



“Are you alright?” Alex asked me after my silence became almost maddening.



“I…I don’t know.” I took in the feeling that was poking at my neck. What was this—this horrible, wretched, awful sickness building up in my body? I gripped tightly at the blankets, wishing desperately that the pain would go away. Go away. Go away. “How did he—he die?”



Alex swallowed hard. “When we hit the Death Walker, it threw the car into a telephone pole…he didn’t make it.”



“But I did,” I whispered.



Alex’s eyes were wide. “But you shouldn’t have….You shouldn’t be here, Gemma…” He looked like he was about in tears and it was kind of freaking me out. I have never seen so much emotion pour out of those bright green eyes before. “You almost…you almost died.”



Breathe, breathe, breathe.



He stared down at the hardwood floor, breathing loudly, as he mumbled to himself, “one minute you were dying and then suddenly you weren’t. God, what if you hadn’t made it.”



I thought of the words my father whispered to me. “‘Today is not the day you’re going to die.’” I suddenly wondered if maybe my dad knew when my death day was.



Alex’s head whipped over to me. “What?”



Whoops. I did not mean to say that out loud. “That’s what I heard when I…when I was dying. ‘Today is not the day you’re going to die.’” I paused. “It was my father’s voice.”



“You heard your father?” he asked, stunned.



I nodded. “He also reminded me that I needed to fix his mistakes.” Was that why I was still here? Was that why I didn’t die?



I thought of Nicholas and how fixing my dad’s mistakes no longer seemed possible. How was I supposed to go into the mapping ball without him?



The thought of Nicholas made my stomach lurch. Yes, he had been slightly obnoxious, he teased me to no end, and he did things that could be considered evil, but only because he was marked with the Mark of Malefiscus.



My stomach churned again and suddenly I knew…



I was going to puke.



I jumped up, ignoring the pain in my stomach. “Where’s the bathroom?”



Alex, looking mystified, pointed over his shoulder. “There’s one right there.”



I ran over to the door and threw it open.



“Gemma, what’s wrong?” Alex asked worriedly, getting to his feet.



I slammed the door shut, ran over to the toilet, and puked until my stomach was empty.



Chapter 9



I’m going to spare you the nasty details of the rest of my puking experience.



All I can say was it was gross.



And it didn’t make me feel better. At all.



After I rinsed my mouth and splashed my face with cold water, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked like crap, I really did. My eyes were red and swollen, my skin was paler than normal. There was a small cut on my forehead, right below my hairline.



My violet eyes stared back at me accusingly. This was my fault. I should have let Alex tie him up in the garage; he would have been better off.



“Everything is my fault,” I whispered at my reflection.



Someone banged on the door and I jumped back. “Yeah.”



“You okay in there?” Alex’s cautious voice floated through the door.



“Yeah….” My reflection was laughing at me. I took a deep breath and pulled myself together the best that I could and opened the door.“I’m just not feeling very well.”



He nodded, giving me a look of understanding. “Do you want to lie down?”



I shook my head. “I want to see Laylen. Is he okay?”



He frowned at my question. “He’s fine, I guess.”



“Well, can I see him?” I asked, wishing he would stop giving me that look. It was a look that was a mix between annoyance, hurt, and disappointment. It was a look that made me feel guilty for something I should not feel guilty about.



“Yeah, you can see him.” His tone was guarded. “He’s out there.” He nodded his head at the door.



“Thanks,” I muttered as I stepped past him.



He followed me out of the room, and down the hallway, keeping his distance. The air smelled very planty, to the point that it almost made me gag. I held back my gag, though, because my stomach was still weak, and I was afraid, if I did, I would puke all over the nice hardwood floor.



The hallway led to a living room that had olive green walls painted with a rosy pattern. A set of rose embroidered sofa’s centered the room, along with a coffee table. Like the bedroom, there were plants all over the walls, the shelves, and the vines dangling from the ceiling were detailed with tiny pink flowers.



I glanced over my shoulder at Alex and raised my eyebrows. “Really?”



“The plants help her gift,” he said defensively. “The oxygen’s good for her or something…I don’t know.”



I pressed my lips together, to keep from saying anything further. Jealousy was an ugly color, and I was not going to let it shine all over me.



“I think everyone’s in the kitchen.” Alex pointed to our right.



I walked to the kitchen doorway and Alex caught my arm. “Hey….” He seemed to be struggling for words. Finally he said, “You’re feeling okay, right?”



“Yeah, I…” All words suddenly left me because, out of the corner of my eyes, I caught sight of a blond-haired, blue-tipped banged, blue-eyed vampire sitting at the table. I just about ran over to him and gave him a big hug. I wasn’t sure where the feeling came from. I mean, I could try to figure it out, but sometimes feelings weren’t easy to solve.



He was not alone at the table. Aislin was also there, her golden-brown hair damp like she just got out of the shower. Her eyes were swollen and tear-stained. She was wearing different clothes and the pink floral dress she had on was girly even for her.



The other person at the table was also dressed in a floral dress, just a different color. Her blonde hair reminded me of sunshine and sunflowers and her eyes were a bright blue. Tan leather gloves covered her hands. I had seen this girl before, in a photo back at Laylen’s house; a photo in which this girl was clearly dating Alex.



I hated this girl.



I really did.



Okay, maybe I should use the word dislike.



From the dark look she shot me, I could tell she hated—or disliked—me too.



“Everything okay?” She asked looking through me, right at Alex.



“Everything’s fine, Stasha” he answered walking past me.



Stasha gave me the death stare, so I looked away at Laylen, who was fiddling with his lip ring, which I was beginning to notice was something he did while he was in deep thought.



He caught my eye and he looked the slightest bit relieved. Then, without saying a word, he stood up and came over to me. Everyone was watching us, so I took his hand and pulled him into the living room, out of the watchful gaze of all their eyes. Particularly Alex’s, which I could feel burning into me, even through the wall.



Neither of us spoke. I wasn’t sure what to say to him. This was the second time he had run away, and I was beginning to worry one of these times I wouldn’t find him.