mother collapses onto the sofa, her head bobbing back. “Would someone please get me a glass of water?”
I head for the kitchen, but Laylen cuts me off. “I got it. You should stay here with her.”
Nodding, I flop down on the sofa and try to think of what to say to her. I’ve spent so many years thinking she was dead that it seems like I should have a lot to say, yet not a damn word comes to mind.
“Alex, relax.” My mom places a hand on my knee to stop me from bouncing my leg up and down. “Everything’s okay now.”
“Why were you down there?” I ask, leaning back.
“It was part of the plan.” She massages her arms and wipes dried blood from her skin. “It was the safest place for me to wait until the time was right for me to take Gemma to the Afterlife.”
“You keep saying it’s what you were supposed to do, like it was pre-planned.”
“That’s because it was pre-planned, from a vision.”
I yank my fingers through my hair, making the strands go askew. “Why does it always come back to the visions? Seriously, they’re becoming the bane of my existence.”
“Visions are our guidance through life,” she says, her eyelids drifting shut. “There had to be one told in order for us to all end up here, at this very moment.”
“It still doesn’t make sense. At first, we’re told a vision was fucked up, and Gemma had to fix it. Then she did, and mad chaos happened. And now you’re saying a vision got us to this exact point.”
“Each instance you mention happened because a vision was told. If there hadn’t been multiple visions, then Gemma would’ve never changed Julian’s mistake. Plus, the world is always changing, Alex. Each time something changes, so does a vision. And when things like the apocalypse happen, sometimes it takes seeing multiple visions in order for things to be made right again.” She pulls her legs onto the cushion, tucks her feet under her, and yawns. “I know it’s confusing, but life in general is.”
I study her face as she rubs her eyes.
“You said you were part of death now. Are you . . . Are you a Banshee?” It’s so weird sitting her with her, asking such an insane question. But anyone who’s heard of my mother has said she is a Banshee now.
“I’m sorry, but yes, I am.” She swallows hard, rubbing her hands up and down her arms as if she’s cold. “I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it has a positive side, like the fact that I’ll get to be the one to take Gemma to the Afterlife.”
I grab a knitted blanket that’s on the back of the sofa and hand it to her. “It’s not going to be Gemma.” I don’t mean for my voice to sound as cold as it does, but I can’t help it. “It’s going to be me.”
She covers herself with the blanket. “I’m sorry, honey, but it has to be her. It’s part of the vision. She’s the one whose soul was detached. She has the gift of foreseeing and changing visions. All of this centers around her and plays a part in a much larger picture. She’s going to be the one to free the souls, and then you two will go to the lake and destroy the star, just like the vision has foretold. The portal will remain sealed, and with some effort, Stephan, Demetrius, and all the Death Walkers die. Then life will go on as it should.” She slips an arm out from under the blanket to clasp my hand. “Your part is to protect her, to carry the other half of the star, and to be there for her when she needs you the most.”
“But it’s not just her I’m worried about.” I slide my hand out from under hers and scoot away, grinding my teeth. My mind is racing with ideas on what I can do to change all this destiny shit, because I can’t let Gemma take all these risks, especially when . . .”She’s pregnant.”
“I know.” My mother draws the blanket up to her neck, shivering. “The baby will be fine. I promise you, Alex. That spell Gemma had done will make it so your daughter lives a happy, healthy life.”
“How did you know about the spell?” I shake my head, bitterness creeping into my voice. “Never mind. I think I already know—a vision.”