Chapter 32

Iyla

I’D NEVER HAD SUCH AN amazing week. Zagan’s surprise birthday trip was followed by finals and the end of the semester, which meant, come spring semester, I’d officially be working toward my dream. Gemma was on the rise health-wise thanks to Zagan’s consistent small doses of blood, and I was finally playing the piano again. For once, I felt good about life.

Even now, my smile wouldn’t disappear, despite stumbling over some notes as I practiced Bach’s, “Prelude No. 1.” There was a certain lightness filling my chest that had never been there before, and as I finished out the piece without any more mistakes, I realized it was hope.

Hope for my sister.

Hope for my dreams.

Hope for what the future had in store for me and the demon who’d changed me.

“You’ve gotten better.”

I looked at the entryway to the ballroom where Zagan leaned against the doorframe. I drank in the sight of him in his dark jeans and long-sleeved gray shirt, and my mouth naturally watered at the attractive sight of his tattooed hands and pierced flesh.

“Thank you,” I beamed. I closed the lid and stood from the piano bench. “Did you finish working on the song?”

He’d been finalizing the details of a song he’d been working on for the past couple of weeks, and I took his presence now to mean that he’d finally completed it.

He offered me a smile of his own and answered, “I did. I thought I could play it for you once we got back from visiting Gemma.”

I practically bounced the rest of the way to him, equally excited to see my sister and hear Zagan’s new song afterward. I’d been swamped after getting back from New York, then focusing on finals, so I hadn’t seen Gemma since the party. Now, I couldn’t seem to get to Bloomings fast enough, grabbing Zagan and pulling him after me toward his car.

The moment we stepped inside Bloomings, something felt off. A sixth sense flared to life and picked up on something I couldn’t yet see. Unease pricked at my insides like frost slowly encasing them. The bustle of activity carried a bit more urgency, and the whispers were like nails grating on a chalkboard. I spotted Noya coming out of Gemma’s room, and the moment our eyes met, I just knew.

There was a split second when I froze where I stood, just holding Noya’s sympathetic eyes. Then terror collided into me like a meteor crashing into earth, and I ran down the hallway, deaf to Noya and Zagan’s voices. My heart beat furiously until I stood in Gemma’s room. The pounding in my temples stopped as quickly as it had started so that all I could hear was the slow beep of her heart rate monitor. My breath cut off in my throat.

I stood just inside the doorway and stared at my sister, who looked nothing like the last time I’d seen her. Gone was the peachy warm flush to her skin, the shine to her auburn hair, and the utter bliss in her smile. Her eyes were shut, and her dark eyelashes stood out against her gray skin, which appeared sunken beneath her eyes and on her cheeks. Her brown hair was spread out on her pillow, thin and muted in color. Her gown had slipped down, giving me a view of her sharp collar bones protruding through her skin like her body had suddenly shriveled up. A nasal cannula sat across her face, giving her extra oxygen through her nose, and an IV drip currently poured something into her through the IV in her hand.

“G-Gemma?” I croaked.

This couldn’t be real. I was in a nightmare. It was the only explanation, because this … She …

I took a step toward her, but the moment I moved, my knees gave out. Zagan grabbed me at the same moment, falling to the floor with me. My wide, tear-filled eyes met his, and I gripped his arm with every bit of strength I had left and whispered, “What happened? Why …”

I’d never seen the look of utter disbelief and fear on Zagan’s face, yet he wore the expression now as he swallowed. “It … my blood …”

He didn’t have to finish. I knew what he was trying to say.

His blood hadn’t worked.

And now, her illness was catching up to her.

I clawed at Zagan’s arms like a mad woman trying to grapple at ropes as she dangled off a cliff. “I killed her. I killed my sister.”

“No,” he said with a firm shake of his head. “She’s not dead, yet. She could still pull through this, Iyla.”

“How?” I whispered. The tears finally spilled over.

He looked from me to Gemma lying still in her bed then back to me. I saw the helplessness in his gaze even before he answered, “I don’t know.”

This couldn’t be happening. Not my baby sister. Not when she’d just started getting better.

“Iyla.”

I turned to the doorway where Noya appeared. The grief she was trying to hide but failing to do so made my own ramp up. She wrung her hands in front of her as she said, “Dr. Seward called your mom. She should be here anytime now. We don’t know what happened. Gemma has been doing so well when all of a sudden …”

Zagan had warned me. He’d told me his blood was no guarantee and that it could even kill her. I’d chosen to try it anyway. I’d heard the risk and threw it away, too focused on potentially saving her. Instead, I’d signed her death certificate.

Mom appeared beside Noya at that exact moment, shoving her aside as she barreled into the room. Her hair was as pristine as always, her make-up in perfect condition, and her pantsuit crisp. She wasn’t the picture of a fearful mother but of a business woman on a mission, which didn’t zero in on Gemma but, rather, on me.

Mom’s nostrils flared, and her chest heaved as she pointed a finger right at me. “Get them out. Get her out now !”

Staff crowded the doorway at Mom’s furious shrieks with Dr. Seward pushing his way to the front.

“Mrs. Winters,” Dr. Seward started hesitantly, his eyes bouncing between her and me. “I know you’re upset, but …”

Zagan helped me to my feet, and his hold was the only thing keeping me standing.

“I want her out!” Mom screeched. Her eyes never left me even as she barked at Dr. Seward, “Remove Iyla from the approved guest list. She is not to be allowed back in this building.”

“Mom,” I cried pathetically, shaking my head in disbelief.

The nurses and Dr. Seward stood speechless and passed helpless glances between mother and daughter. No one liked her, yet she was the guardian. Who would they listen to in this moment? The raging mother, or the loving sister?

Finally, Dr. Seward looked at me, his frown apologetic. “Iyla. I’m sorry. You—You’re going to have to leave.”

My heart fractured, and the world swam as my breath seemed to run away from me. This was all my imagination. Gemma wasn’t dying. I wasn’t being removed from Bloomings. Mom wasn’t glaring at me with more hatred than a singular person should be capable of.

“Come on,” Zagan soothed in my ear, but I barely heard him.

I couldn’t seem to hear or think past the whooshing in my ears. It wasn’t until we were back in the parking lot with the December wind kissing my wet cheeks that reality caught up to me with a vengeance.

“Gemma!” I wheezed, turning in Zagan’s arms to try to rush back inside.

Zagan held onto me with strength beyond this world just as Mom barreled out the front doors. Her heels clacked against the concrete as she stomped toward me with a crazed look in her eye like she was ready to hit me. At the last minute, it seemed to register who stood beside me, and she stopped short, breathing hard and glaring at me.

“Please let me see her,” I begged between sobs. “You can’t do this.”

“I’m her mother. I can do as I damn well please,” she snapped, and in that brief hiss, I saw it—the flash of something truly nasty in her eye. Zagan must’ve seen it, too, because his arms tightened around my chest where he held me.

I didn’t have the strength to understand what it was, though. All I could do was plead, “Let me see her. Please. I-I need to see her.”

Before it’s too late.

The thought only served to bring more tears to my eyes. I could still remember the glow Gemma had the last time I saw her, yet now …

“You make me sick,” Mom growled, raking a hand over her pristine curls. “Such a worthless child. It’s ridiculous! Gemma shouldn’t be the one in there. It should be you in that bed!”

The ache clouding my mind opened partly enough for me to take note of my mother’s words. There were no tears on her face, and instead of being inside with Gemma, she’d followed me out here to spew more biting words. That flash in her gaze came back, and now I understood what it was.

Glee.

She took pleasure in hurting me. She found joy in cutting me down.

Gemma was the last piece connecting the two of us as I carved a path for myself, and with her gone, there wouldn’t be any chances for Mom to get her hits in. Instead of taking this time with her youngest, she was using the time left to get her final punches in, to inflict the most damage she could. She was doing the last thing she could to hurt me the most—denying me my chance to see my sister and say my goodbyes.

Her hatred for me was more than her love for Gemma.

I realized then that this woman didn’t care. Even if she grieved, it wouldn’t be for Gemma . It would be for the loss of the child she’d chosen. It would be for only having the one child she’d always resented left. If one had to die, it should’ve been the one she’d never wanted.

“Do you even love her, Mom?” I demanded. “If you did, you wouldn’t be doing this. You wouldn’t be using this time to follow me out here just to hurt me. You’d be in that room with Gemma and me, because that’s what she’d want.”

“How dare—”

My lips trembled as I stepped away from Zagan to close every inch of space between me and her. I held her gaze with every ounce of conviction inside me as I whispered, “I wish it was me in that bed. I wish I could trade places with her, Mom. But I can’t. So instead of standing here, trying to kill me off with your words, let me see her. You might hate me, but she … she doesn’t. She would want me there.”

Her lip curled as she got in my face to hiss, “Go to fucking Hell, Iyla.”

She turned on her heel and stormed back inside. The crater in my chest opened wide, pulling me into the waiting darkness. My head hung, and sobs choked me until pinpricks of fog darted across my head like thunder clouds rolling in.

“Fuck that,” Zagan growled. He gripped my hand and pulled me to his car. “You’re seeing Gemma, even if we have to wait all goddamn night.”

He sat me in the passenger seat and went around the car to his side.

Everything spiraled inside me. The sight of Gemma lying nearly lifeless in her bed. Mom and our venomous exchange. Tears clouded my vision as her words replayed in my head.

It should be you in that bed.

I looked up at the ceiling of the car, crying helplessly. I didn’t want Gemma to die. She was my world, and she had yet to truly live her life. There had to be something I could do to save her. I couldn’t let this happen.

Zagan wove his fingers with mine and brushed his thumb over my skin in an effort to soothe me. As I stared at his inked hand, I realized who I had next to me. Or rather, what .

I turned in my seat to lock my desperate eyes on his. “You’re a demon. And you’re my bond.”

His brows plunged in confusion. “I know.”

I gripped his hand tightly and brought it close to my chest. My voice broke as I pleaded, “Then help me. We can still save her.”

He slowly shook his head. “We tried. My blood—”

“Me,” I interrupted, my voice rising. “You can switch our places. Give her my life, and let me trade places with her.”

The blood drained from his face, and his pierced lips parted as he fell speechless. My heart raced with the new answer staring right at me, and I tried to make him see in the way I gripped him tightly that I needed this.

His eyes were still wide in shock as he shook his head once. “No.”

Tears rushed out of me anew and spilled down my cheeks. “Please, Zagan. Please! I can’t let her die!”

His jaw worked, and his eyes hardened. “I can’t.”

I glared at him. “You can’t, or you won’t ?”

He didn’t answer. He turned away from me and focused his attention outside the window. My head hung in defeat, and I sagged in my seat. This was the only answer I had, but if I couldn’t get Zagan to cooperate, what was another solution? I didn’t have one, and that reality broke me all over again. I was at a loss for a way out of this. I was alone in my search for a way to save my sister.

An hour passed with Zagan practically vibrating with some wound up energy next to me and my own panic and grief tormenting me. Mom was only there for a freaking hour—apparently that was enough time to spend with her seriously ill child.

As soon as her car pulled out of the parking lot, Zagan turned to me. The hard anger that had been simmering in his eyes after my plea vanished, and they softened once more. “Let’s go.”

He held his hand out for me, and the moment I took it, shadows erupted around us. It felt like I was floating away in the cold, dark, endless void with only Zagan’s firm hold on my hand keeping me from getting lost. Slowly, Gemma’s room came into view, until it was like I was looking through a haze of smoke from the corner of her room.

She slept soundless and motionless, alone once more in the dim room. No lights were on, and only the overcast sky offered light through the window. The room seemed to reflect how desolate I felt seeing my baby sister like this.

“The coast is clear,” Zagan murmured. In an instant, the haze cleared, and the staticky charge touching my skin faded. “I’ve put a veil over the room for now. If anyone tries to come in, they’ll forget why they wanted in here and leave. You should be fine to spend as much time with her as you want.”

I squeezed his hand, grateful that he was doing this, even if he wouldn’t do the one thing I asked of him. My throat had closed up again, only getting worse as I slowly approached Gemma’s bed. I stared down at her ghostly, frail body, and I nearly broke. I wanted to turn back time to when she was laughing and having fun with me and her friends. I wanted to rip all the medical gadgets off her and plead with the world to let me take her place.

But instead, I carefully sat beside her on the bed then leaned back so that I laid beside her. I rested my head beside hers on the pillow and gently took her hand in mine. My lips trembled when I felt how cold and how frail it had gotten. I feared it might crumble right there in my hold.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open. My heart lurched, and her bleary eyes took a few minutes to focus on me beside her. I was grateful I wasn’t a sobbing mess right now. I didn’t want her to see and know what we all worried was coming.

“Hey, you,” I said softly, plastering on as much of a smile as I could. I wasn’t even sure if I succeeded.

She blinked, and her muted hazel eyes were slow to open again. “Iyla.” Her chapped lips barely opened as she uttered my name, and her voice was more of a rasp than the sweet, jovial sound it usually was. “I was … worried I wouldn’t … get to see you.”

She spoke slowly, like just the mere act of forming words sucked all the energy out of her.

I had to swallow multiple times before I managed to croak, “I’m always gonna be here. Always . I’d never not come to you.”

Her exhausted eyes closed again, and it felt like minutes went by before they reopened. Her small fingers wrapped tighter around my hand, but I noticed how weak even that was. I tried to keep the misery off my face, but I knew glimpses of it slipped through the mask I wore.

“Will,” Gemma asked quietly, her eyes finally locking on mine, “dying hurt?”

My eyebrows slammed down, and I shook my head adamantly against the pillow even as a tear slid down my cheek. “You aren’t going to die. You—”

“Please,” Gemma begged. The first sign of strength entered her voice and came out with that one word. “I know … it’s coming. I don’t want to … be reassured. I just want the truth.”

I stared into her eyes—the eyes of an eleven year old who seemed to have aged a lifetime since I last saw her. The eyes of a little girl who had to grow up in pain and sickness. The eyes of a girl who’d never get to see everything life had to offer. The eyes of a gift to this world.

I couldn’t fight my tears anymore. I shifted closer to her and tucked her head under my chin while wrapping my arms around her. I kept my grip loose to protect her weak form, yet still held on with all the love I had in me. I closed my eyes as tears fell from my cheeks and into her hair.

I didn’t want to give her honesty. I wanted to lie and say she’d pull through this, because more than anything, that’s what I wanted. But it wasn’t what she needed from me.

My throat burned with emotion as I finally whispered, “No. No, I don’t—I don’t think it will hurt. I think … it will be like falling asleep.”

Her small frame seemed to relax slightly in my arms, and that only made the fierce ache in my chest twist sharper. What a fucked up world we lived in that she found comfort in the prospect of dying.

“Do you think … the place we go when we die … will be scary?” Gemma asked softly against my chest.

“Not where you’re going,” Zagan suddenly answered.

I looked to where he stood at the foot of the bed. He briefly met my eyes, and when I saw the urgency swirling with the pain in his gaze, I realized he was answering as much for me as he was Gemma. He wanted— needed —us to know that Gemma would be going somewhere good. He was trying to offer some semblance of reassurance to the both of us.

I felt Gemma’s attempt at a smile against my chest and heard the faint trace of it when she said, “Maybe I’ll get … to see Dad there.”

I sucked in a shaky wet breath and had to tilt my head back to force the tears to fall away. “I bet you will. I bet he’s already there, waiting with one of his big, warm hugs.”

“I’ll make sure … to hug him for you, too,” Gemma said, releasing my hand to wrap her arm around me.

My nose scrunched at the fresh onslaught of tears. I wanted to pull Gemma in tight and hug her hard, but I was too afraid of breaking her. So I kept my arms loose around her frame and just pressed my face further into the top of her head, biting my lip to keep from crying out until something metallic filled my mouth. The two of us didn’t move for some time. She clung to me with her weak arms, and I shook with silent tears that fell into her hair.

Gemma eventually pulled her arm away and leaned back so that she could look up at me. Her cracked lips lifted into a faint grin. “I wish I could hear you play piano one last time.”

My mind went back to that day I’d told her I was going to play again. She’d been so excited for me, and I knew that if she could, she would’ve come to every show. She’d always loved listening to me and Dad play, and now … now she’d never get to again.

Zagan cleared his throat, drawing both of our attention. He looked between us and offered a small smile. “I can help with that. Gem, can you close your eyes for me?”

My heart constricted with the nickname he’d given her, and I couldn’t help but think about Gemma and how she’d never find her Zagan, the person who faced the storms with her and came out on the other side a better person because of it.

Gemma’s eyes closed.

Zagan looked at the open space in the corner of her room, and with a wave of his hand, a small vertical piano appeared. He gave me a small nod then looked at Gemma. “You can open them now.”

Gemma’s eyes slowly blinked, and an excited glimmer briefly lit them with life again when she saw the piano now in her room. “How—”

“I had a feeling you’d like to hear your sister play, so I had it arranged to wheel this in here,” Zagan lied with all the confidence in the world.

Satisfied with the answer, Gemma turned to look at me again. “Can you play it for me?”

It wasn’t even a question. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I just wished I could do more. I wished I had tried harder or been here for her more. I wasn’t sure if not giving her Zagan’s blood would’ve made a difference. She’d already been on a decline with no answers on how to stop her body from slowly attacking itself.

Did giving her Zagan’s blood kill her faster? Had it actually kept her here longer than if we hadn’t tried? Did giving her the blood give her enough life and energy to enjoy these past few weeks to the fullest? I didn’t have the answers to the questions plaguing me, and I probably never would.

One thing I did have, though, was this moment with her. I had time to grant her this last wish.

So with a small nod, I answered, “Okay.”