the house with the Banshee wailing at me to come back. I head back to the woodpile to check on Laylen, finding him still lying unconscious underneath the tarp, drooling all over himself.
“What am I supposed to do with you?” I mutter, crouching down beside him. “I’d just leave you here, but I’m pretty sure Gemma would hate me if I did that, and I can’t deal with her hating me.”
“I can fix him,” Aislin’s voice sails over my shoulder.
I jump up and whirl around with my knife out. “What did you do to Gemma?”
Aislin sticks her hands in the air. “She’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine now.” She nods at her arm that’s no longer marked.
“Gemma freed you?” I ask, impressed. “How?”
“She went to Adessa’s and got her help,” Aislin explains, her hands falling to her side. “But not without running into a few other problems.”
I sigh heavily. “What happened now?”
“I’d rather you just come with me and see for yourself,” she says, picking her fingernails, a nervous habit of hers.
I nod at the woodpile. “You want to take care of him first.”
She smacks herself in the forehead. “Oh, yeah, duh.” She rushes over to Laylen and quickly works her magic, removing the mark from him.
When Laylen wakes up, he’s extremely disoriented. “What happened?” He clutches his head. “And why does it feel like someone punched me in the head.”
“No one punched you in the head.” I pull him to his feet. “I just clocked you over the head with a shovel.”
He blinks dazedly at me, and then his expression plummets. “Shit . . . I was . . .” He looks down at his arm where the mark used to be then shakes his head, looking disgusted. “What did I do?”
I could tell him everything he did—how he attacked us, drank Gemma’s blood, and tied her up—but for some crazy reason, I don’t want to make him feel guilty. Maybe it’s because I’m tired, or maybe Gemma’s kindness is starting to rub off on me.
“Nothing too bad,” I lie.
He looks unconvinced but doesn’t say anything.
“We need to get back to Adessa’s,” Aislin announces. “Like now.”
“You’re starting to worry me,” I admit to Aislin, tucking the knife in my back pocket.
She opens her mouth, worry written all over her face. “Let’s just get going, okay?”
My heart races in my chest. “Please, just tell me she’s not hurt.”
“Not with any injuries,” she replies, avoiding eye contact with me.
“What about the . . . ?” I rake my fingers through my hair and lower my voice. “The baby?”
Aislin smiles tensely. “You’re having a daughter, and I’m going to be an aunt.”
My mind is racing a million miles a minute as the three of us huddle together, preparing to go to Vegas.
“I need to warn you to prepare yourself,” Aislin suddenly says.
I open my mouth to ask why, but she’s already taking us away.
GEMMA
When Aislin, Laylen, and Alex materialize in Adessa’s living room, I immediately duck behind the sofa, embarrassed over how I look.
“What was that?” Alex asks with a hint of repulsion in his voice.
I want to cry, but at the same time, I want to kick him for being such an asshole.
“Gemma, you can come out,” Aislin says tentatively. “No one’s going to hurt you or judge you. I promise.”
“I’d rather just stay here until this is fixed,” I say, curling up in a ball.
“I don’t get it,” Laylen says softly. “Why did it look like she has . . . wings?”
He sounds like his old self, thank God. At least one good thing came out of all of this.
“Gemma, please come out,” Aislin says. “I can’t help you if you don’t.”
Heaving a sigh, I rise to my feet. I feel like an animal in a zoo as Alex and Laylen gawk at me. Their eyes are wide and full of horror, and I feel so ashamed of how I look.
On top of having huge-ass wings sprouting out of my back, I’m also stuck in the corset dress the Black Angel was wearing when I freed her. The fabric barely covers my ass. Not to mention, I’m stuck in heels I can barely walk in.
Laylen gives me a once over, and then his blue eyes meet mine. I want to run up and give him the biggest hug I can muster.