I splash some cold water on my face in a pathetic attempt to bring myself out of this dream because vampires, witches and secret groups who save the world aren’t supposed to exist.

But after I pat my face dry and open my eyes, the same navy blue walls of Laylen’s bathroom still surround me. I glance into the mirror hanging above the sink and sigh at the sight of my freakish violet eyes that collide against the glass; like my hair does with my pasty complexion. Add the gothic dress, as well as the boots, and I look like a character straight out of the Addam’s Family.

There’s a knock on the door. “Gemma, are you ready to go?” Aislin asks.

I blink one last time at my reflection, then turn away from it, throw open the door and step out. Alex and Laylen are with Aislin, standing next to a table decorated with a vase of wilting flowers. Aislin has changed into a simple grey dress with matching flats and her hair is pinned up. Laylen has the same outfit on; black jeans, a black tee and black boots; it’s a hell of a lot of black. Alex has changed into dark jeans, a long-sleeved, fitted, black shirt and there are leather bands on his wrists.

I give an animated swing of my arm. “All right, throw in a hand that walks around and a creepy Victorian house, and I’m good to go.”

All three of them look at me at the same time and then they go quiet as they stare at me.

Great, I look sillier than I originally thought. “It’s a joke. About the Addam’s Family,” I say, tugging at the hem of the dress. “I should change, right?”

Smiling, Aislin shakes her head, while Laylen coughs into his hand. “No, you look great.” She walks up to me as she digs through her purse. “You just need this.” She draws her hand from her purse and moves a black pencil toward my face. I wince as she traces a line around each eye and then steps back, putting the lid back on the eyeliner.

“She kind of looks like one,” she says with a tilt of her head as she studies me. “You know that?”

Alex steps up beside her with his eyes fixed on me. There’s a raw animalistic look in them that makes the blood rush to my cheeks. “She does, which is good. Maybe they’ll leave her alone.”

I rearrange the top of my dress higher because it’s slipping down. “Look like what?”

“A Black Angel.” Aislin tosses the eyeliner back in her purse and zips it up. “They’re really pretty, but really dangerous.”

“Is that like a Fallen Angel?” I ask.

“Not exactly,” she says. “They’re hypnotic and powerful. They have this way about them that draws people to them and if you get too close to one, they can possess your mind.”

I gape at her. “Possess your mind and make you do what?”

Alex steps forward. “Whatever they want, which is why we have to be careful and stay away from them.”

“Are there a lot where we’re going?”

Alex wavers. “It all depends on the Wicca store. If there’s black magic there, then yes, a Black Angel might be there or maybe even something worse. And it’s good you’re dressed up like that.” His eyes scroll up my body. “Maybe everyone will try not to get too close to you. And we can keep your identity hidden.”

“From the Death Walkers?” I ask. “Or from Demetrius?”

“From everyone.” He moves nearer and blows out a breath. “No one can know who you are, Gemma. If the wrong person finds out who you are—what you are—then word will get back to Demetrius. Or they might try to use the power for themselves.” He pauses. “You’re very valuable.”

Valuable to whom? I let out an uneasy breath and tug at the top of my dress again, wondering what I’m getting into. “I can’t get the ribbon to fasten very tightly. I’m worried it’s going to fall down.”

Alex makes a circular motion with his finger. “Turn around and I’ll tie it.”

I obey and hold my breath as he steps up behind me. Sweeping my hair to the side, he hooks his fingers through the bottom cross of the ribbon and gives it a gentle tug as Aislin and Laylen wander down the hallway toward the front door.

He doesn’t utter a word as he deliberately traces his finger to the next section. I suck in a breath as he pulls on that one too and his breath hits the back of my neck. I try to remain calm as he fastens the next one by pulling it so securely that the leather clutches my ribs.

I put my hands just below my breasts and work to get air into my lungs. “It’s tight enough I think.”

His chest brushes against my back as he laughs and gives the ribbon another tug. “Not tight enough. We don’t want them falling out.”

I bite down on my lip. Hard. And a little blood pools out. “I’m sure they’ll stay put. I can barely breathe.”

His knuckles graze between my shoulder blades as he ties the ribbon into a knot. He’s breathing erratically and his chest collides with my back with each inhale. “I know, but I want to make sure.” There’s an elongated pause and then I feel his lips touch the back of my neck.

I stay still as he rolls his tongue along my skin and gives it a little suck, sending shivers all over my body. I want to crumble to the ground and let him catch me, but he pulls away and the feeling evaporates as he heads down the hall with a swagger in his walk. All I have left is a warm sensation on my back and I'm not sure if it’s from the kiss or the prickle trying to whisper a new emotion to me.

Either way, I stuff it down and follow them out the front door, knowing I have to get my feelings under control, so I can think clearly and keep myself alive.

Because that is the whole point of life. Isn’t it?

Chapter 12

Laylen drives a 1960s Pontiac GTO; black with white racing stripes down the middle. Another sexy car to add to my list. And a sexy driver. With his long fingers curled around the steering wheel, Laylen speeds off down the dirt road toward the city.

I’m in the backseat, watching the stars streak by as the car zooms down the road. Alex is next to me and is being really quiet. His knee keeps jiggling up and down as if he’s centering his nervous energy into that one leg. It’s making the air stifling and I can still feel where he kissed my neck, like a lingering chill.

“You know if you keep bouncing your leg like that, you’re going to get a cramp,” I say, when his nervous energy starts to spread to me.

He ceases jiggling his knee and looks at me. “Is it bothering you?”

“Kind of,” I admit and fan my hand in front of my face. “You’re making it very hot in here.”

“Maybe it’s just my hotness that’s making you hot and bothered,” he jokes with a smirk.

Annoyance overcomes me and I slap his knee, kind of roughly. “That’s not what it is.”

He rubs his knee with a half-smile on his face. “You’re vicious.”

“And you’re arrogant.”

“That’s been a given from day one.” He pauses and then glances up front at Aislin who has her eyes shut and her head resting against the window. He scoots over in the seat and leans in toward me. He smells like cologne mixed with soap and I breathe in his intoxicating scent. “You need to be careful while we’re in the city. Stay by me at all times.”

“Yes, boss. Any other orders you need me to follow?” I'm joking, but the look on his face is dead serious.

“There’s a ton of orders I’d love for you to follow,” he says and reclines back with his jaw set tight. “But I’d break a lot of rules if I ever gave them to you; and unlike some people, I don’t break the rules.” He glances up at Laylen and then directs his focus to the road ahead. In the darkness of the cab, his eyes look like coals and his face is a shadow; he looks haunted.

There’s a brief confirmation from the prickle that lets me know I feel bad. Only hours ago, in the cabin, I’d been rubbing up against him, feeling the most amazing feelings ever and then I went and did whatever it was that I did with Laylen. I’m working up a mild apology when the city rises into view and my thought process hits a screeching halt.

Lights blink against the blackness of the night in vibrant colors and giant billboards light up the sides of the road. In the distance, where the hills fade out, buildings stretch toward the sky. I sit quietly, craning my neck from left to right to take it all in. Everything’s so flashy and shocking. The shock only grows when we reach the heart of the city, where the sidewalks become packed with mobs of people and the air buzzes with excitement. There are people dressed in costumes; drinking, laughing and I even see one man strip off his clothes.

I pinch my arm to make sure I’m not dreaming and wince from the sting I undeniably feel. “Holy shit.”

Alex tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and whispers, “What? Did you think you were dreaming?”

I rub my arm. “Maybe. It wouldn’t be the first time I wasn’t sure if I was awake or not.”

He gives me a strange look. “What do you mean?”

I shrug and fix my gaze on a man dressed as a gladiator, handing out flyers to pedestrians. “I mean exactly what I said—sometimes I can’t tell what’s happening in real life and what’s just a dream.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“For most of my life. Or, well, since I started feeling, which, to me, was kind of the beginning of my life.”

He looks at me and, I mean, really looks at me as if I’m really a person and not a star or a strange girl. “What kinds of dreams? Were they the one’s with the Death Walkers?”

I nod. “Yeah, the Death Walkers were in some of them. And you.” And sometimes Laylen.

The lights from the street mirror in his eyes. “And what was I doing in these dreams?”

“Umm…” Thankfully it’s dark because I’m pretty sure my cheeks are bright red. “Stuff.”

It doesn’t take him very long to catch on. “Oh.” His forehead scrunches and he covers his mouth, then puts his hand on his lap; uncertain of what to do with himself.

After that, it gets quiet. I would feel stupid, but I have bigger problems to worry about than Alex thinking I’m a pervert. I focus on the scenery; a glass pyramid, a giant pirate ship and a small replica of the Eiffel Tower. At the end of the taller buildings, Laylen veers to the right and the lights fade with the crowd. The buildings shrink into smaller, worn out houses and the gutters lining the streets are littered with garbage and cigarette butts. When we pass a corner where a group of people are shuffling around, beating the shit out of each other, Aislin locks her door.

“You do realize it’s almost one o’clock?” Aislin informs Laylen as she checks her watch.

Laylen flips the signal light on. “Yeah, so? You do realize that this is Vegas, right? Most places stay open all night.”

“Yeah, but the later it is, the more the weirdoes are going to be out and about.” She adjusts the strap of her dress, which has slipped off her shoulder.

“Weirdoes make the world interesting.” He flashes a smile at her as he parks the car up against the curb.