up window may block the outside world from me visually, but it can’t conceal the horrible sounds of the crackling fires and screams that plague the air like a toxin. They’re always there, painfully reminding me of the damage I’ve caused by messing around with visions.
Ever since I shifted the vision back to what it originally was before my father tampered with it, the Mark of Malefiscus has taken over the streets of the human world. Fey, vampires, witches, and even a few Foreseers run wild, tormenting and killing innocent people. And nobody can seem to stop them.
After tossing and turning for a half an hour, I flip on the lamp, climb out of bed, and then pad over to the mirror hanging on my door. My reflection stares back at me; only, I look more tired than I remember, more worn out. My skin is even paler than normal, almost sickly; my violet eyes have shadows under them; and my brown hair is a tangled mess.
Shaking my head at my appearance, I sweep my hair to the side and catch sight of the circle enclosing an “S” tattooed on the back of my neck—the Foreseer’s mark. Just beneath it, a circle traced by fiery gold flames brands my skin—the Keeper’s mark.
“Admiring your own reflection,” Nicholas says. “How very vain of you.”
I scowl at the ghost faerie that suddenly materializes behind me. “Go away. I see enough of you in my dreams.”
He presses his hand over his heart, his golden eyes twinkling mischievously. “Wow, Gemma, I’m honored that you think of me so often. But what I’d really like to know is what exactly happens in these dreams?” An impish grin curls his lips. “Are they naughty dreams, Gemma?” He reaches for me. “I bet they are. I bet you let me touch you because, secretly, that’s what you want.”
“I think those are your dreams.” I dodge out of his reach and spin around to face him. “And I don’t dream of you, Nicholas. I have nightmares of you.” I back away from him and onto the bed. “Always nightmares.”
“So you say.” He smirks, stepping toward me. “But deep down, we both know your words don’t match your thoughts, that really, you want me just as bad as I want you.” His eyes scroll across my body, lingering on my chest before dropping to my hand. “Otherwise, you’d take the ring off.”
I glance down at the ring on my finger. My father told me it holds the answers to saving the world, but all the damn thing has done is given me the gift—the curse of seeing one very obnoxious ghost.
“You know what? You actually have a point.” I start to slip the ring off.
“Gemma,” Nicholas warns, his body tensing, “I wouldn’t if I were you.”
I inch the ring toward my fingertip. “Why? So you can keep driving me insane, make your perverted remarks when you shouldn’t?” I wrap my arm around my stomach to emphasize my point, even though it really does make me feel ill.
I haven’t told anyone yet about the heartbeat I heard that night or how Nicholas implied that I might be pregnant. Saying it aloud means dealing with the fact that I might be carrying around another person inside me, which is terrifying in itself. However, there’s a whole lot more to it than that, like the fact that if I have to die in order to save the world, so does it.
Nicholas shakes his head, brushing strands of his sandy blonde hair out of his golden eyes, then glares at my stomach with disgust, as if suddenly remembering I might be pregnant. “I’m not just here to drive you insane.” He looks up at me. “And if you take the ring off, you’ll never learn the real reason I came back.”
He could easily be lying or telling the truth. It’s hard to say. Right now, however, I’m tired, and whether he can help me save the world or not, I really need a break from him.
“I think I’ll take my chances.” I take off the ring and drop it onto my bed, and just like that, he’s gone.
I blow out a breath of relief as a tiny bit of my stress alleviates. From now on, I’ll only put the ring on when I need Nicholas’s help.
I check the time on the clock. Even though it’s early, I’m too wired to fall back asleep. Climbing off the bed, I tug on a grey Henley and