“Why does anyone date anyone? Because they’re bored.”

“That logic is a little misconstrued, Alex,” she says with a sigh. “Jesus, you’re so messed up sometimes.” She rubs her hand across her face as she thinks for what feels like hours when in reality it’s probably just a few minutes. She glances at Gemma then gets up from the chair, walks over to the bed, and examines her. “I’m surprised you used your little gift on her.”

“I didn’t want to,” I say, getting to my feet and wandering to the other side of the bed to stroke Gemma’s cheek with my finger. “But it was my only choice.”

“Yeah, but it’s her… despite how you act, when it comes to Gemma, you’ve always been… How do I put this? …kinder than you are to most people.”

My initial instinct is to argue, but deep down I know she’s right. “There’s nothing wrong with being nice sometimes,” I say defensively. I then trace a line down the palm of my hand, remembering when we made the promise in a desperate act to hold onto our friendship at time where I could feel it slipping away all because of my father. “Besides, sometimes it feels like I have to be that way with her.”

Aislin glances up at me with a questioning look in her eyes. “Because of the promise?”

“Maybe.” I don’t say anything further because I don’t want to explain it to her; that I don’t think what I’m feeling has anything to do with magic. That it’s my emotions making me feel obligated. Hell, obligation may not even be the best word either since I want to protect Gemma no matter what.

“Well, I think it’s good that you’re finally showing signs of being human,” she says with a small smile.

“If you say so,” I mutter, letting my hand fall to my side.

Aislin sighs then tips her head to the side, returning her attention to Gemma, who starts to stir, wiggling her fingers as if to get out. Instead, she lets out a quiet breath and relaxes as she drapes her one untied hand over her forehead, revealing the scar on the palm of her hand. Aislin leans over to study it, then her eyes land on me and light up. “I think I have an idea.”

“Good because I think I’m tapped out of them.” I sit down on the bed, rake my fingers through my hair, and rest my head in my hands. “Which is a first for me, and I’m not a fan.”

“Oh, quit being a baby. You don’t always have to be the one to save the day,” she says, rounding the bed and stopping in front of where I’m sitting. “What I’m thinking of isn’t going to take off the mark, but maybe it will get rid of the power in it temporarily until I can find a more permanent spell.”

“Okay.” I raise my head and glance over my shoulder at Gemma lying on the bed. God, it’s so fucked up, but she looks so sexy now; eyes shut, soft breaths escaping her parted lips. I want her—I’ve always wanted her. “Get it done then.”

Aislin bites on her fingernails. “It’s not something I have to do.” She reluctantly aims a finger at me. “It’s something you have to do. Or at least it’ll work better if you do it, I think.”

My brows furrow as I stand up from the bed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she opens her hand, palm up, and traces a line across her palm, “That you’re going to make a blood promise with her.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head with disappointment because, there for a moment, I’ve thought she had a real plan. “That’s not going to work. Blood Promises aren’t more powerful than the Mark of Malefiscus.”

Now she rolls her eyes. “Maybe under normal circumstances, but with you two, I’m betting it’ll work. The connection between you is way more intense than any normal connection out there. You’ve both got the star in you and you have a lot of power.” She taps her finger against her lip. “I’m guessing with the right promise, we can release her for a bit from the power of the mark.”

“What promise it going to do that?” I gape at her, not buying into her theory that this is going to work.

“One you’re not going to like,” she says, twisting a strand of her hair around her finger as she stares at Gemma. “Then again, maybe you will.”

“Which is?”

“Getting her to promise to listen to someone else.”

My jaw drops. “You want me to seal her to a blood promise where she has listen to me—where she’s be under my control? That’s fucked up.”

“It’s better than the alternative,” she says with a shrug. “And it’s all I’ve got at the moment.”

“I’m not so sure about that. Making her… controlling her like that… it’s wrong… She’s already had too much of it in her life.”

Her brow arches with speculation. “You really do care for her, don’t you?”

Squirming uncomfortably from her accusation, I change the subject. “Even if I did make the promise, how are we supposed to get her to recite whatever I say? There’s no way. Not when she’s under the control of the mark.”

She ponders over this for a while, as if the thought hasn’t even crossed her mind until then. The longer it goes on, the more puzzled she appears. My hope in finding an easy way out of this is dwindling. Nothing’s ever easy, though. I should know that by now.

“I have a better idea,” I tell her, loosely using the word better. Because my idea isn’t better at all, but it’s doable.

“And what’s that?” she asks, confused.

I shrug, like what I’m about to say isn’t a big deal. “An emotional exorcism.”

She’s already shaking her head. “No way in hell. It’s too risky.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I like risks.” I try to force a cocky smile, but I miss the mark. I can act tough all I want, but what I’m proposing that we do to handle the situation is sort of terrifying.

“It’s not even the risk, though,” she says. “The last time someone did it, they died.”

“Well, death’s a risk I’m willing to take to save her.” As soon as I say it, I know it’s the truth, and the truth is more terrifying than I ever could have imagined.

I care enough for Gemma that I’m willing to risk my own life to free hers.

“No. There’s no way we’re going to do that.” Aislin paces the length of the room, shaking her head as she stares at the floor. She’s been doing it since I divulged my plan of almost killing myself while Gemma’s awake in the hopes that it’ll bring her back.

“It can’t hurt to try,” I say, watching her from the bed, more stressed than I have ever been.

She stops in the middle of the room and puts her hands on her hips. “Can’t hurt to try? You could freaking die, Alex. And besides,” she starts pacing again, folding her arms, “she already tried to kill you and it didn’t bring her back.”

“It did something,” I argue, drawing a line up and down Gemma’s leg, missing her so much that it’s driving me crazy. It’s amazing how even when we’re close, I want to be closer. All those years apart and I never stopped thinking about her. Then we ran into each other at her grandparent’s house, and even though I thought it was forbidden, I also knew right then and then that I had to have her in my life again. “She’s been unconscious ever since.”

“Yeah, but—” she begins to protest again, but I interrupt her.

“Aislin, this isn’t up for debate,” I tell her, getting to my feet and cutting her off her pacing in the center of the room. “I’m doing this with or without your help.”

She huffs in aggravation, yet I already know she’ll help me. Aislin’s just that way; when it all comes down to it, she gives in.

“Fine.” She surrenders, throwing her hands in the air exasperatedly. “We’ll try it, but I really hope you know what you’re doing.”

the her heart. “One shot of it right here and your dead.”

Dead. As soon as she says it, reality crashes over me. I’m really going to do this, and if it all comes down to it—if it takes me actually jabbing a needle full of death into my heart to bring her back—I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes, and it’s startling how okay I am with it; sacrificing my life to save hers.