“No, you’re just trying to be a hero,” she snaps, getting in my face, “a stupid hero.”
“This isn’t about me being a hero,” I argue. “This is about how much Gemma means to me, even though I can’t say it aloud. This about me not being able to live without her. This is about my daughter and how she should have her mother. And this is about Gemma getting to watch her daughter grow up.”
“You should get to watch her grow up, too,” she says, tears flooding her eyes.
“I know, but if it only gets to be one of us, it should be—needs to be—Gemma. She’s the one who spent most of her life unemotional. She has no memories of her childhood, no really happy memories that don’t have some kind of burden attached to them. She’s been tormented by the Death Walkers, by our father. Her life’s never been fair. And now she’s pregnant with our daughter, and we just spent the most amazing few hours together, only for it to get taken away from her the moment that fucking candle burned out. She deserves this, and I want nothing more than to give it to her.”
She blinks fiercely, trying to fight back the tears, but like always, her emotions get the best of her.
Not knowing what else to do, I give her a hug.
“Your life hasn’t been that fair, either,” she whispers. “None of our lives have.”
“That’s why we need to stop all this—so no one has to suffer anymore.”
“Are you sure there’s not another way?” Her voice carries such hope that I feel bad knowing I’ll have to ruin it. “Where no one has to die except the bad guys?”
“Mom told me the portal’s going to open up no matter what we do, and the only way to seal it back is for the star to die . . . is for Gemma and I to die.”
She shakes her head as we break the hug. Then she covers her mouth and continues to shake her head as she soundlessly sobs.
“If you die, then that’s it,” she whispers. “I won’t have any family left.”
“Mom will be back, eventually,” I tell her and force a small smile. “And you’ll have your niece to take care.”
She continues to cry until her eyes run dry. Then she stares at me with her swollen eyes, her cheeks raw from the tears. “You’re sure this is what you want to do?” she asks, her voice hoarse.
I nod. “More than anything.”
She bobs her head up and down unsteadily. “Then I’ll take you.” She reaches for my hand but then hastily withdraws. “You’re coming back, though. I’m not taking you to your death, right?”
“Yeah, I’m coming back until the sacrifice.” I clear my throat as my voice cracks, thinking about how this is it. This is one of the last times I’ll talk to my sister.
“You’re a good sister,” I feel the urge to say.
“I know.” She smiles, but I can tell she’s fighting not to cry. “You’ve been a great brother, even though I’ve had to put up with a lot of temper tantrums.”
I can’t help laughing, and she laughs along with me. But the laughter dies quickly as reality crashes down on us. I can tell Aislin’s scared, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fucking scared, too.
But my mom wasn’t right when she said it always had to be Gemma, because if I can make this work, Gemma’s the one who is going to live.
“I need you to do me favor,” I tell Laylen as I walk into living room.
He looks up from Aislin’s herb box with his brows furrowed. “The last time you asked me for a favor, you left.”
“I’m leaving, but I’ll be back.” I lean against the doorway. “I need you to keep an eye on Gemma for a bit, and I need you to make a Blood Promise with me that you’ll always keep an eye on her, no matter what happens to me.”
“Why?” he asks.
I rub the back of my neck. “It’s just important, okay?”
He momentarily assesses me then nods, sets the box down, and stands. I straighten my stance, grab my knife from my pocket, and flip open the blade. With zero hesitancy, I drag the blade down my unscarred palm. Then I chuck the knife to Laylen, and he cuts his own hand.
His lips twitch as he looks at the blood in his hand then at mine. I can see the blood