I nod, unsure how to ask if somehow I have evil blood in me. And what if it came from him? “I’m fine… just thinking about Alex… and how he was…”

“I understand,” he says. “Losing someone can be difficult, especially if you’re not used to death.”

I want to say that I am used to death, though. Hell, I grew up thinking both of my parents were dead. But now I’ve met them both, fully alive and breathing so it’s not really relevant. And besides, during most of the time I thought they were dead, I couldn’t feel emotions so there was nothing inside me gnawing away like it is now.

“Hopefully, I won’t have to get used to it yet,” I say with a forced smile.

“Hopefully,” he agrees, coming to a stop in front of the mausoleum door. He reaches for the brass handle and the hinges creak as he opens it, as if it had been sealed shut for ages. Then he ducks his head and steps inside the dark and hesitantly I follow.

It takes my eyes a moment or two to adjust to the lack of light and my skin and lungs take even longer to get used to the damp air. “It feels like death in here,” I whisper, hugging my arms around myself.

“That it does,” my father replies, giving me no hope that this building isn’t a final resting place for the dead. He hunches over even more as he begins to descend farther into the dark. The low ceiling drips murky water on our heads and the cold tile floor is cracked and stained. The pillared walls are deteriorating, chipped and flawed, but in a hauntingly beautiful way. Decorated with red lanterns, the whole place has a soft glow which flows around the room and lights the way down a narrow tunnel.

“This way,” my father instructs with a nod of his head, reaching up to unhinge a lantern from the wall and carry it with him.

I trail after him, the air growing heavier the further we go and the floor feeling more like ice than tile. I start noticing little details the more my eyes adjust to the dark. The way vines flourish from the ceiling, the sound of a river flowing from somewhere nearby, how on each pillar there is an eye carved in the center, the pupil an S wrapped by a circle—the Foreseers’ mark. Is this a place for the Foreseers? Is it linked to the City of Crystal? That idea makes me nervous, especially if Nicholas has access to it.

“What is this place?” I trace my fingers along one of the eyes. “Does it have something to do with the Foreseers?”

My father shakes his head, the lantern swinging from his hand. “This is a place where no one wants to be.”

I’m about to ask him to explain more, but we reach the end of the tunnel where there’s a large midnight blue trunk, trimmed with gold, perched on top of a Victorian table. My father sets the lantern down beside the legs, then raises the lid of the trunk and sticks his hand inside, retrieving a crystal ball orbed with soft light.

He extends his hand out toward me, his violet eyes more dark lavender. “This is how you’re going to reset time and hopefully create a better future for the world.”

I eye the crystal ball warily. “With just a crystal ball?” I look up at him. “How?”

He takes my hand, his skin alarmingly chilled, and he carefully places the crystal ball my palm. “No, with this and your power.”

It isn’t like any of the other crystal ball I’ve seen. The outer glass is crystal clear, allowing me to see inside to the center where a star-shaped center bursts with light.

“I don’t understand….” I’m transfixed by the crystal ball, unable to take my eyes off it, as though it’s beckoning me to use it. “I thought my power was what ended the world?” I lift the crystal ball to eye-level. “This crystal has a lot of power…”

“That it does.” He shuts the lid on the trunk. “And when I say power, I’m talking about your Foreseer power, not the star’s power.” He stands silently for a moment, struggling to tell me something important. “I’ve done some things in my life that have led me to this place. Things that are unforgivable—things which you’ll understand soon. But I need you to put the future back and fix some of those mistakes.”

I wonder if the evil in my blood came from him. “Unforgivable things?”

“I can’t answer that right now,” he says. “Nor can I tell you how to use the crystal ball.”

It fills like I’ve been stuck in some sort of riddle world, where I have to figure out the answers from a bunch of stuff that doesn’t seemed to be linked to anything. “Why can’t you tell me anything?”

“Because you have to figure it out on your own.” He tries to offer me an encouraging smile. “You and I are unique cases. We can both travel into visions without the assistance of a crystal. With enough strength, you should be able to change the vision I erased and recreated.”

I’m dumbstruck, my fingers tightening around the crystal. “You changed a vision? I thought you weren’t allowed to do that?”

“You’re not.” Regret seizes his expression. “The vision I changed was so the world would end… And to this day, I regret it.”

Evil. Evil. Evil. The word echoes in my head. “You made it so the world would end? How…why would you do that?” I step back. Maybe he’s still evil and he’s getting me to do his evil work.

“Relax, Gemma. I assure you there are good reasons for why I did the things. Granted, it’s not an excuse, but at the time it seemed like it was the only option.”

I back away until my back brushes the wall. “There are no such things as good reasons for doing something evil.” I shake my head, feeling the ache of another hidden wound.

“You’ve never done anything bad that felt like it was the only option at the time?” he questions with accusation.

I open my mouth to say no, but deep down I know it’s a lie. “Yes, but…”

“No buts. This isn’t important right now.” His voice is startlingly sharp, his hands balling into fists, anger controlling him. “What’s important is that you fix it—change everything back to how it was originally supposed to be. You need to make sure the world doesn’t end up like it did in the vision you saw.”

I shiver as the images surface, the one’s I’ve seen of the world in its icy demise. “The one where the world ends in ice—the one where Stephan and Demetrius and the Death Walkers win?”

He relaxes a little. “Yes, that’s what you need to stop from happening.”

I want to argue with him more, but there’s a voice in the back of my mind reminding me that if this works correctly, I’ll have Alex back. I see the bigger picture of what my father was talking about and it makes him seem less evil, or me slightly more—I’m not sure.

“Alright, but you need to tell me what to do, because I have no clue,” I say, moving back toward him.

He taps the crystal ball I’m holding with his finger. “Everything you need to know is in here.” He places his finger to my temple. “And in here.” Then he turns his back on me and starts to walk away. “It’s time for you to go back. Good-bye, Gemma. I have great confidence that you’ll be able to fix my mistakes.”

I start to chase after him, desperate to know more, but the walls around me bow in and out and the entire room starts to spin and becomes distorted like funhouse. My knees lock up on me and I can’t move. My father walks further away from me and the tunnel begins flickering in and out of focus. I attempt to run after him again, wiggling my legs and arms and putting all my strength in it, but he just keeps getting further and further out of reach.

“But I don’t understand any of it!” I shout, clutching onto the crystal ball. “How am I supposed to change visions if what I’ve been taught is that they’re not changeable? And how do I know which ones to change?” I stop fighting, my feet like heavy like bricks, and I’m submerged by darkness. “Dad, I don’t understand!”

“Don’t worry.” His voice seems to come from everywhere. “You will.”

Before I can say anything else, I’m being flipped upward and tossed into the darkness.

Chapter 3

Cold water splashes across my face and over my body, soaking my skin and my clothes. My body feels like it’s been ran over by a truck and my eyelids are so heavy it aches to try and open them. The air smells salty and is filled with the soft lull of the ocean. For a while, I just lie there, trying to decipher what’s going on because I’m too exhausted to move. But when water crashes over me again, I open my eyes just in time to see another wave headed at me. I scramble to my feet, hacking up water as I race up the beach and out of the ocean’s reach. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. The ocean before me, sunlight reflecting against it, and behind me, houses and people basking in the sand. I’m back at the beach house in Maryland.

I would think that what had just happened was a dream, but I’m still clutching the crystal ball my father gave me.

“I’m here, which means…”I sprint off for the beach house where Alex, Aislin, Laylen, and my mom are, at least from what I can remember. I’m just hoping that it worked—that I’m back to a place in time where Alex is alive, I’m not possessed and everything is good, well as good as it can be.

I make it to the house in record time, panting, sweaty, but feeling better than I have in a while. I barrel up the stairs of the back porch and fling open the screen door. “Mom,” I yell, stumbling into the kitchen. “Mom! Alex! Aislin! Anyone!”

Silence.

I hurry from the kitchen to the living room, calling out everyone’s names, but the only noise comes from a grandfather clock in the corner of the room next to the sofa. Where is everyone? Did they go looking for me? Or did it… God, no I hate to think it, but I can’t help it. My father gave me very little details on how this would work which makes me wonder if maybe Alex is still dead or something and that’s where everyone is.

After searching the entire house and not finding any clues to where they could be, I begin looking for a phone. But then I realize I don’t have anyone’s number so it’s pointless. I’m about to endeavor out and start searching the streets when the front door opens and Alex enters, breathless. His dark-brown hair is messy, like he’d been raking his fingers through it repeatedly. His green eyes are wide and his lean muscles look taut through his T-shirt. His lips… God, his lips look so kissable.

The sight of him nearly sends me to the floor, my heart slamming against my chest so forcefully I can’t think. “You’re alive,” I breathe, gripping onto the end table to support my weight.

He gives me a strange look, stopping just short of me. “Of course I am…” His brows furrow as he reaches out and his fingers spreads across my cheek. Sparks ignite. Dance across my skin. Elated. Alive. “Are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick,” he says.

“I think I am,” I tell him, still stunned. Because my father did it. He reset time. He brought Alex back...

All I want to do is touch him. Feel him. Run my fingers through his hair, along his arms, his muscles, feel the smoothness of his skin. I want to taste his lips. Let his lips taste every inch of me. But Stephan’s words echo in my head, the consequences of us being together.

When Alex moves to touch me with his other hand I step back, even though it nearly kills me.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, confusion swarming across his face.

He has no idea.

How can I tell him? How can I tell the one person I’ve ever felt anything for that our emotions we have toward each other are wrong. That this amazing chemistry we have was never meant to be—that we were never meant to be.

“We can’t…” I shake my head, my stomach burning. I swear to God telling him is what’s going to end me. “We can’t…” I can’t do this.

Tears sting in my eyes, the knot in my stomach winding tighter. Blinding white heat ignites from inside me, so potent and toxic it feels like I’m on fire. The prickle appears, invisible but equally as toxic, piercing at my skin, telling me something I can’t interpret just yet, or maybe just don’t want to.

“I can’t breathe…” I choke. What is wrong with me? Something’s not… right… I collapse to my knees, my fingers digging into my chest. “I… can’t… breathe…” As I struggle for air, my vision spotting in and out, all I can think is, I’m dying.

The next few minutes pass by in a blur. Alex rubs his hand up and down my back, whispering soothing words. It’s going to be okay. You’re alright. Just breathe.

Just breathe.

It’s hard to breathe through the crushing ache in my lungs, my bones, everywhere. But after he gets me to the sofa and sits me down, I lower my head to my lap and take deep inhales and exhales, my heart starts to beat steady again and oxygen returns to my lungs.

I sit up with my arm wrapped around my stomach, blinking as the blood rushes from my head. “What happened?”

Alex is kneeling on the floor in front of me with his hand still on my back, eyeing me over with concern. “I think you were having a panic attack.”

I shake my head and scratch the spot of skin on the back of my neck where the prickle is going wild, the area a little tender. “It felt like I was being smothered.”

He moves his hand from my back to my leg. “Panic attacks can feel like that…” he trails off considering something. “But what I’m wondering is what happened to cause the panic attack? Is it because Laylen’s still missing?” His expression slightly hardens. “Because I promise we’ll find him. You’re mom and Aislin could have found them already too and just haven’t made it back yet.”