I’m starting to realize that maybe I’m not as crazy as I’ve always thought. Maybe everyone is crazy. Maybe crazy is actually normal.
Laylen nibbles on his lip ring as he works to restrain a smile. “What’s wrong?”
She turns around and pouts out her lip. “The Death Walkers’ ice ruined my crystal. We were lucky we even made it here.” She makes her way back to an empty chair. “This sucks. Now what are we going to do?”
It gets so quiet I can hear everyone’s hearts beating. Thump, thump, thump, thump. They sound like tiny drums.
“What kind of a crystal was it?” Laylen inquires. “The gold-leaf one?”
“No, it’s the one made of amethyst.” She props her elbow on the table and lets her chin fall into her hand.
“The Vectum Crystal?” Laylen asks and she bobs her head up and down. Laylen hooks his finger over his shoulder and points at the window. “There’s this place in Vegas—Adessa’s Herbs and Spices.”
Alex cracks his knuckles. “I’m thinking that Las Vegas probably isn’t the greatest place to go. There are all kinds of dark creatures there. Vampires. Werewolves. It’s too dangerous.”
My eyes amplify as I stare out the window at the twinkling lights in the distance. They have to be the city’s lights. “There’s Werewolves?”
Alex points at Laylen with a bored look in his face. “There’re vampires. Of course there are werewolves.”
I shake the image of a dog howling at the moon out of my head. “Do they bite?”
Laylen lets out a soft laugh as he twirls a set of keys he’s taken out of his pocket around his finger. “You sure are fascinated with biting.”
My cheeks flush because I really am. There’s something about getting bitten that enthralls my emotions and I want to experience it in real life.
Daggers shoot from Alex’s eyes as he glares at Laylen and then his attention centers back to me. “It doesn’t matter what they do. All that matters is that you’re safe and sound here, far away from them.”
“I don’t think I’m really safe and sound anywhere,” I say. “Besides, don’t you have like a box of weapons to protect me or something?”
He struggles not to laugh at me. “Weapons or not, it’s too dangerous. If an inhuman—and maybe even human—creature gets close to you, they’re going to want to get closer.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because they will,” he responds. “You have this… thing about you.”
“Then stay here with her,” Laylen proposes as he leans back in the chair and places his hands behind his head. “Or, I’ll stay with her and you take Aislin. There’s a ton of solutions, so stop getting your panties in a bunch.”
Alex stares impassively at him. “I’m not getting my panties in a bunch. I’m being careful.”
“Careful about what exactly?” Laylen wonders. “Gemma getting hurt, or you hurting Gemma.”
“What?” Aislin and I say simultaneously.
Aislin glances at me and then at Alex. “What’s he talking about?”
“Let him explain it to you,” Laylen says with an accusing tone.
“There’s nothing to explain.” He shoves his chair back from the table and rises to his feet. “You promise we’ll just go straight there and straight back. No stops or anything.”
Laylen stares at him incredulously with his hands spread out to the side of him. “Are you kidding me? Where else do you think I’ll take us? McDonald’s? Walmart? Oh wait, I do need to make a quick stop by the cemetery.”
I snort a laugh, but it quickly dissipates at the fury blazing in Alex’s eyes. “You think this is funny? Do you think getting killed is funny?”
I shake my head. “But what he said was.”
Aislin grimaces and drops her head down on the table. “Can we just get going already?”
Alex’s hands wring the back of the chair. “Don’t underestimate the Death Walkers, Gemma. They’ll kill you if they get the chance.”
Fear capes the humor inside me. He’s right. It isn’t funny. The prickle lets me know that I need to get things in check and take things seriously. It soothes me with each stab. “I know that. And I’m sorry. I won’t laugh at inappropriate things again.”
He is stunned by my apology. “Well, good.”
After a lot of arguing, a decision is finally made. We would all go to Vegas with the stipulation that I will stay in the car and there will be no stops except to get the crystal. Including cemeteries and Walmart.
I have blood all over my clothes and Aislin insists I need to change before we leave. She informs me that she has clothes stashed in the house. We go into a room with a white four-post bed covered with tons of fluffy pillows. There is an oversized armoire in the corner and Aislin marches up to it and throws the doors open.
“The only problem is you’re about five inches taller than me.” She taps her finger against her chin as she evaluates the selection of clothes hanging up. “But I guess we’ll just have to make something work.”
I take a seat on the bed. “Do you come here a lot? You must if you have your own room.”
She pulls out a pink T-shirt and tosses it on the bed. “Yeah, this house actually used to belong to Laylen’s parents and we used to come up here to take a break from everything.” She throws a glittery scarf onto the bed. “Things change, though.” She sighs, staring down at a pair of jeans in her hands. “We haven’t been up here in a really long time.”
She starts delving through the clothes again. Shirts, jeans, skirts, and dresses begin to form a pile on the bed beside me. The room smells fruity and it matches the frilly theme of the bed. There are photos all over the walls, so I get up and amble around to look at them. I find photos fascinating because they capture a moment of emotion, whether it’s fake or real.
Some of the photos are of Laylen and Aislin and there are others just of Laylen. There’s one taped to the dresser mirror of Laylen standing out in the desert with his arm wrapped around Aislin. Alex is next to Laylen and there is an attractive blonde girl cuddled up against him. They’re smiling. Happy. It makes my heart hurt. Have I ever been happy? I search through my limited memories and come up hollow.
“That was taken a couple of years ago,” Aislin remarks as she wiggles a hanger out of the sleeves of a sweater.
“Oh, yeah?”
“I think I was about eighteen.” She balls up a shirt and tosses it back into the armoire. “So, like, five years ago.”
I do the math. “That would make you…”
“Twenty-three.” She interrupts as she chucks a skirt onto the bed. “And Alex is twenty-four.”
“No wonder he seems to hate school,” I note. “He’s old.”
Aislin laughs as she hooks the hanger back on the bar. “He’s not that old, Gemma. Only a few years older than you.”
I pick up a handmade ceramic heart that’s on the dresser and turn it over in my hand. Her room is so different from mine, decorated and full of items associated with memories. “How about Laylen? How old is he?”
“Well, he would’ve been twenty-five, but after he got… um…” She trails off as tears pool in her eyes. She’s hurting thinking about the past, something I understand. It’s right then that I realize Aislin isn’t a bad person. She’s nice and has a lot of emotion in her, just like me. “But, yeah, he’s stuck at twenty-two now.” She dabs the tears away with her fingertips, chucks a white lacy shirt onto the bed, then comes over and stares down at the pile of clothes with her hands on her hips. “Now, see if any of these will fit those long legs of yours.”
***
Nothing fits. All the pants are too short and all the shirts are baggy in the chest area. I flop back on the bed, wearing a pink shirt that shows off my stomach and jeans that barely reach the lower region of my ankles. “I think I might have to just wear my clothes.” I drape my arm over my head.
She picks up my shirt that has blood on it and discards it in a hamper in the corner. “No way. You did hear Alex when he said vampires could be there. He wasn’t kidding and they’re not like Laylen. They’ll bite you.”
There’s that word again. Bite. “Okay, then what do you suggest?” I peek out from underneath my arm. “Because I look ridiculous.”
She glances around her room and when her eyes land on a trunk at the foot of the bed, her face lights up and she claps her hands. “Oh my God. I have the perfect outfit.” She kneels down in front of it, flips the latches, and raises the lid. “I have no idea why I didn’t think of this before.” She sticks her head in and begins digging around. I sit up as she shuts the lid. She springs to her toes and extends her arm in my direction. “Here you go. One outfit that will fit not only those long limbs of yours, but it’ll also help you blend in.”
I take the piece of fabric from her hand and hold it up in front of me. It’s a strapless, black leather dress with a lace-up section on the back. “Where did you get this?”
She twists her golden brown hair up as she makes her way over to the porcelain vanity. “I had a friend who wore it for Halloween one year and she left it here.”
I run my fingernail down the red ribbon on the back and twist it around my finger. “It’s a Halloween costume? For what? A slut?”
Aislin opens a drawer and takes out a compact and a makeup brush. “She was supposed to be a sexy witch, but she did end up looking more like a slut.”
I unravel my finger from the ribbon. “And now you want me to wear it?”
She clicks open the compact. “Trust me; you’ll be thanking me when we get to Vegas. It’ll help you blend in.” She begins powdering her nose.
I glance down at the leather dress in my hand. “This will help me blend in?”
She nods. “You’ll see when we get there. In Vegas, anything and everything exists. Walk around looking normal and you’re the one that stands out.”
I get to my feet and head for the door, grabbing my boots on the way out. “Where’s the bathroom?”
She turns in the chair and points to the right. “Third door to your right.” I start to leave and she calls out, “Oh yeah, and Gemma, wear your hair down. You have such pretty hair.”
Sighing, I leave her to primp and go into the bathroom, fully aware that I’m going to look ridiculous. I might not know much about myself, but I know enough to comprehend that a tight, leather dress isn’t going to look good on me do to my lack of curves.
I carefully slip out of the shirt and jeans and then step into the dress. I shimmy it over my h*ps and then have to take off my bra because the dress is made to go all-la-natural. I lace up the back the best that I can, but it’s loose. Then, I slip on my boots before yanking the elastic out of my hair and letting it fall down to my shoulders. I’m not used to wearing such a limited amount of clothing; I feel nak*d and ridiculous.