for the faerie, wishing to God that I could actually get my hands on him. “You knew all along what I had to do, and yet you wasted weeks of my time, of everyone’s time. You let people die, and now there’s hardly any time left until December twenty-first.”
He jumps to his feet, grinning with his hands out in front of him “That’s because you kept asking the wrong questions.”
I clench my hands into fists, stopping just short of him. “God, I wish I could just . . .” I growl in frustration.
“Just what?” he asks curiously. “Hurt me? Kill me? Because deep down, I really think all that aggression can only be taken care of by letting me fuck it out of you.”
I elevate my fist, ready to strike, even though I’ll only hit air.
“Gemma,” my mom says softly, appearing at my side. “You need to move past your anger with him. You have more important things to focus on.”
Although it takes a lot of effort, I manage to keep my rage under control. “How do I get to the Afterlife?” I ask Nicholas as calmly as I can.
Of course, he decides to test my patience even more. “The what?”
“You know, the land of the lost souls, the Afterlife where the queen reigns.” I glare at him. “How about that? Is that the right question?”
He claps his hands, laughing. “Bravo, but I might add how slow you are at getting there.”
“Fuck you,” I grit out through my teeth, but when my mom says my name again, I force the fakest smile I can muster. “How do I get there?”
His gaze flicks to my mother. “Why doesn’t she just tell you? She’s a ghost. She should know.”
Tears sting at my eyes from the reminder that my mom is dead. “She doesn’t know how to get there. For some reason, she can’t cross over. But you’re a faerie—and a dead one at that—which gives you direct contact to the queen since she’s fey.”
“Didn’t I explain to you once that I’m only half-fey?” he asks. “And that makes other fey, dead or not, not very fond of me.”
“Are you sure that’s the real reason?” I snap. “Because I’m sure your amazing personality helps, too.”
He shoots me a dirty look, but then he grins wickedly. “You know what? I really don’t feel like talking to you, not with that kind of attitude.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets and backs toward the window. But then he stops and reaches forward, letting his hand slip through my body, painfully reminding me that I can’t do anything to him, at least physically. “Perhaps if you are really, really nice to me, I might be more willing.” His gaze deliberately scrolls up and down my body, making my skin crawl.
“You’re such a—”
A gust of wind flows around me as my mother zooms straight into Nicholas. She grabs him, her hands circling his neck.
“You can’t make me say anything,” he says with a choked laugh as she slams his body into the wall.
My mom looks in my direction, looking wildly out of her mind, like she’s lost touch with her humanity. “I’ll be back in a while,” she says. “Don’t go anywhere.”
My jaw drops as the two ghosts dissipate, and the room grows empty again. My legs immediately give out on me, and I flop down on my bed and let the tears out.
My mom’s gone.
She’s gone, and I’m never getting to know her.
I’m alone.
Always alone.
My hand drops to my stomach.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Well, not completely alone.
I allow myself five minutes to lose my shit before I suck it up then go find Laylen and Aislin to tell them what is going on. But when I enter the hall, the house is eerily silent. Fear courses through my body as I step back into my room to get the knife Alex gave me from my dresser drawer. With a weapon in hand, I pad down the hall toward Laylen’s room. My hand is steady, my Keeper blood manifesting, but every time I face danger, my heart still pounds insanely.
When I reach Laylen’s room, I hesitantly press my ear to the door to listen, but I can’t hear anything, so I gently push it open. The room is empty and soundless. I start to turn around to check downstairs, but my shoulder bumps into something solid.
I jumped back, startled, but then relax when I see Laylen standing in the doorway, his blonde hair ruffled, his lips oddly a