tastes freaking amazing. “He is, if what faerie boy said is true.”
Her mouth sinks to a frown. “How do we know he’s not just being . . . well, you know, himself? He might be feeding you bullshit.”
I shrug, picking the crust off the bread. “We don’t know for sure, but I don’t know; it kind of makes sense. I mean, how many times have we both almost died, yet we miraculously came back to life?”
“She makes a good point.” Laylen rips his sandwich in half. “Still, whether Nicholas is being truthful or not, I think you should take the ring off and take a break from him. It’s not healthy to be around his constant, twenty-four seven mind-fucking.”
“It doesn’t do any good just to take the ring off,” I explain, internally cringing. “He can still talk to me. And his voice is the most annoying part of him. Plus, I don’t feel comfortable not being able to see him when he can still see me. All the time,” I press.
Aislin’s face contorts in disgust. “Oh, my God, that’s so disgusting,” she mutters, pushing her plate away. “I think I just lost my appetite.”
Laylen balls his hands into fists. “If you want, I can take care of him,” he offers. “We don’t really need him around, do we?”
“We actually might.” I graze my finger across the purple stone on the ring. “So far, he’s the only ghost I’ve seen. Somehow, he’s got to play a part in fixing the apocalyptic mess. Besides, you can’t actually touch him since his body is nothing but air.”
He reaches over and taps the ring on my finger. “Maybe I should put this on and see if I can see him.” He pops his knuckles, acting as my protector, which makes me smile. “We could have a nice, long chat about how he needs to back the fuck off.”
I pat his arm. “Thanks for the offer, but chatting with him will only make him act like more of a creeper probably.”
“I agree with Gemma, and I think we need to stop focusing on Nicholas so much. We have so many other problems,” Aislin says with excitement sparkling in her eyes. “Speaking of which; I almost perfected the Scutum Distillans spell.”
“Is that the shield lowering spell thing? The one that will help us be able to . . . well, you know, kill Stephan despite his immortality?” I stuff the rest of the sandwich into my mouth and wipe my fingers on a napkin.
She nods, picking up her previously discarded sandwich and taking a bite of it. “I only need one more ingredient before I should be able to pull off the spell. Then we can drop the Shield Spell from my father and attack him.”
I rub my hands up and down my arms, trying to erase the goose bumps. The idea of simply attacking Stephan and his army of Death Walkers seems scary, even if he’s killable, because it means risking my life and the lives of the people I care for greatly . . . who mean everything to me . . . who I . . .
Who you what, Gemma? Do I feel it yet? That emotion burning on the tip of my tongue?
“What’s the last ingredient you need?” I scoot my empty plate out of the way.
She sulks as she stares down at the half-eaten grilled cheese. “More power.”
“I know where you could get some of that.” Laylen elbows me and winks, trying to lighten the mood.
Abruptly, Aislin stands from the table, puts her plate in the sink, and then picks up the brown paper bag. “You need to come with me,” she says, motioning me to follow her as she whisks out of the room.
I glance at Laylen who shrugs. “I have no idea what she’s up to,” he says.
“She seemed kind of upset. She’s not still mad about the . . . incident between us, is she? Because it really meant nothing.”
“If she is, she’ll get over it eventually.”
“You should be more sympathetic.” I pinch his arm and scowl.
“Ow.” He laughs, rubbing his arm. “I don’t even get what the big deal is. We just fell asleep together, and it was completely accidental.”
“You should make it up to her,” I suggest. “Do something nice.”
“And you should go see what she wants before she gets even more upset.” He smiles at me, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes
Getting up from the table, I leave the kitchen to go find Aislin