by L. E. DeLano
“Jessa!”
“Oh thank God!” My mother’s voice carries from the other room as she runs up to hug me, too. “Jessa! Oh, honey, are you okay? Where were you? We’ve been worried sick!”
“I’m fine, Mom—is Ben okay? Did he come by? Danny, let go!” I peel myself out of Danny’s arms, but Mom is still holding on.
“He’s okay,” she says, pushing my hair off my face. “You weren’t burned? You’re breathing okay?”
“I’m fine,” I tell her again. “I’ve got a tiny burn on my arm, but Finn got me out of there in time.”
She turns to look at Finn, and two seconds later he’s wrapped in my mother’s arms. “Thank you,” she says. “Thank you so much.” She pulls back and runs a hand over his hair, too. “Are you okay?” she asks. “Do you need a doctor?”
He’s a little flustered, and I can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since he’s been fussed over by a mother. Probably a very long time.
“I’m fine,” he says.
“You smell like camping,” Danny says to me. He takes another sniff to be sure.
“Yeah, I smell like a campfire,” I agree. “But I’m okay.”
“Ben’s mother called me from the hospital,” Mom says as she gives my burn a once-over.
“Hospital!”
“The EMTs took him there as a precaution,” Mom explains. “He hit his head on the floor when some idiot pushed a shopping cart into him—but other than a big knot, he’s okay. He had his mom call to find out if you were all right.”
I put my hands over my face in pure relief. Ben is okay. He’s really okay.
“You probably want a shower,” Mom says, giving me a sniff of her own. “I’m going to run out to the drugstore for some more antibiotic ointment. We have a little bit in the upstairs cabinet—put it on for now. And Mr. Kellar from Wickley’s needs you to call him.”
“I talked to him already. Sorry I worried you,” I say, hugging her again. “Things were a little confusing with everyone running out and all the firemen coming in. Finn got me out of there and we went down the street to Mugsy’s so we wouldn’t be in the way. I was shaken up,” I improvise—and it’s not really a lie. “I didn’t think to call.”
“It’s okay, honey. Just as long as you’re safe.” She looks over at Finn. “Both of you.”
“I’m going to get that shower,” I say. “Finn? Are you hanging around?” I know the answer before he even answers.
“I don’t mind smelling like a campfire,” he says.
“I like to camp. Do you?” Danny asks.
“I do,” he says. “I worked as a trail guide for a time, in the Appalachians. Did a lot of camping there.”
That’s a new one. “I haven’t heard that story yet,” I say.
“Get your shower and I’ll tell you all about it,” he promises, settling into the chair opposite Danny as my mom grabs her car keys.
I reach for my phone as I climb the stairs, texting Ben to tell him I’m home and I’m fine. Before I press send, I peel my shirt off, pulling the smell of smoke into the air all around me. I like camping, too, but I think if I never smell fire that close again, I’ll be a much happier camper.
I spend a long time in the shower, soaking until my skin is lobster-red, and thinking. Mostly thinking.
We’re a part of a plan, he said. He spoke of truth, and that is the truest truth there is. If there’s one thing being a Traveler has taught me, it’s that everyone is part of a plan. But Finn and I—we’re just different. We belong together. But do I belong with this Finn? Am I his default? Or is he mine? Or are we forging something new?
I don’t know the answer to that. All I know is I don’t want to feel like a consolation prize. And I don’t want him feeling that way, either. But at the same time, he’s Finn, and I’m Jessa. We are what we are—and who we are—to each other. And that means I have to be honest with Ben. And hurt Ben.
I pull some pajama pants and a shirt on and decide that I’ve done enough thinking. After the events of today, I’m honestly feeling a little brain-numb from being so overwhelmed. I don’t know how much more I can take.
And just as I’m registering the sound of voices, my bedroom door is flung open, and Ben comes charging through.
“She’s taking a shower!” I hear Danny yell, and I see Finn right behind Ben, looking seriously perturbed. Danny is behind Finn looking—well, like Danny.
“Ben! You’re okay!”
I throw myself into Ben’s arms, and he catches me as I hug him tight. He pulls back to look at me, and then he turns to look at Finn. The fury on his face makes every muscle in his body tighten.
“You!” he says as Finn steps into the room.
“Are you going to fight?” Danny wants to know.
“Everything’s fine, Danny,” I say. “Nobody’s fighting.”
“If Mom hears you were fighting she will ground you,” he says. “She will so ground you.”
“Thanks, Danny. We’re good.”
I push him back gently, then shut the door and lean against it, watching the two of them face each other.
“What are you doing here?” Ben demands. “You almost got her killed!”
“What are you talking about?” Finn asks, utterly incredulous. “I saved her life!”
Ben turns back to me. “I had to come over. I just … I had to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” I say. “Finn got me out in time. But I heard you were hurt. Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about me,” he bites out. Then he seems to get even angrier. He turns and starts railing on Finn.
“She almost died again! That seems to happen an awful lot when you’re around, don’t you think?” he adds snidely.
“You were closest to her when the fire started,” Finn snaps back. “So don’t go blaming me!”
I step between them. “It was Eversor,” I remind them. “She was there, and she set this all up.”
“I barely got Jessa out of there in time,” Finn said. “And I assisted you, as I recall.”
“I’m sure you tried your hardest to save me,” Ben says to Finn, in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or were you too busy looking out for the only person who matters—yourself!”
“Ben!” I can’t believe he said that!
“Jessa, listen to me!” He grabs me hard by my upper arms, and I notice just how different he looks right now. His eyes have dark circles and he’s practically shaking, he’s so full of anger. This is so unlike the Ben I know.
“He’s bad for you!” Ben snarls. “I know it. I feel it—I’ve had a gut instinct about him ever since he showed up again. This Finn isn’t like the other one. He’s not safe!” He gives me a hard shake. “Do you hear me? He’s the one trying to kill you!”
“What in the bloody hell are you talking about?” Finn roars. “And get your hands off her!”
“Ben…” I look at him warily. “Let’s go outside and talk, okay? I don’t think you understand—”
“I do!” he insists. “I do understand! I’m telling you, he’s going to kill us both! He’s been trying to from the beginning!”
“Ben—” I speak in a low, soothing voice as I pull away from him. “You need to calm down.”
“Calm down?” He puts his hands in his hair, tearing at it like a crazy person, and I start nervously edging toward Finn. “I’m done here!” he shouts. “I’m so done!” Then he turns and slams out the door and runs down the stairs. I follow right after him, putting up a warning hand to Finn to stay back.
“Ben!” I chase him down as he’s getting in his truck. “We need to talk.”
“But you won’t listen!” he says in exasperation. “You won’t listen.”
He starts up the truck and makes one last plea to me.
“Jessa … please—every instinct I have is screaming for me to get you away from him. And you’re not listening! It’s so bad, I’m having nightmares about him!” He yanks the door shut angrily, and then he floors the gas
and I jump back as he peels out.
Then I go absolutely still as the realization floods through me.
Oh my God. I know where Rudy is.
25
The Unwanted Guest
Once I’m back inside, I motion toward the door with my head, and Finn comes over with a questioning look.
“Say good night, then me meet around back,” I whisper.
“Good night, Danny,” he calls out.
Danny gives him a wave as he loads up his next video game. “No more yelling, okay?”
“We’re all done, Danny,” I assure him. “Good night, Finn.” I close the door behind him and I tell Danny I’m going to bed, then I sneak Finn in the back door and up the stairs while Danny blissfully plays Minecraft.
“I know how Rudy’s been spying on us,” I tell him as I shut the door.
“How?”
“Think about it,” I say, sitting down on the bed and making room for him next to me. “Eversor has been one step ahead of us everywhere—like she’s had inside information. She knew I’d be with Ben at the museum. She knew I’d be in Arizona during my recital—and so did Ben. She knew I was working at Wickley’s today—and so did Ben. And he’s been hostile to absolutely frothing-at-the-mouth crazy ever since you showed up.”
“You think Rudy’s taken up residence in Ben’s dreams?”
“He can hang out in his subconscious and suggest all kinds of things. Mario told me once they could torture you that way if they need to.”
“Torture?” Finn doesn’t like the sound of that. “What d’you mean, torture?”
“He didn’t say he did it,” I tell him. “Just that if a Traveler tries to fly outside the rules, their Dreamer can make life difficult, since they have open access to the subconscious.”
“So … how do we get him out?”
“We need to call in the big guns. We need Mario.”
“Can you sleep?” Finn asks me.
“After the day I had today? I could sleep for a week. If I have to, I can grab the NyQuil,” I say. “Like last time.”
“Last time?” He looks confused.
“Oh.” I drop my eyes. “Sorry. Other you. It’s cold medicine—I took it last time I needed to get to sleep fast.”
“Oh.” Now he looks away. “I don’t need medicine. You could stroke my hair.”
“Stroke your hair?”
“Yes, we”—he fumbles for a moment—“I nod off more easily that way.”
“Why don’t we just wait a while and see if we drowse off?” I suggest. “If it takes too long, I’ll break out the medicine.”
He gives me a reluctant nod. “I’ll just lie down over here on the floor,” he says.
“You can crash here,” I tell him. “Just stick to your side, okay?”
“Okay.”
I ease myself down until I’m lying flat, and I’m aware of every inch of him next to me. The warmth of his body feels so familiar alongside mine, reminding me of the nights I shared with the other part of himself, separate, but not so different.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he says, rolling onto his side to face me. I roll as well, and we’re just about nose to nose.
“You owe me a fortune by now,” I say.
“I’d pay it, and gladly. I can see the play of thoughts across your face, but in many ways you’re still such a mystery. What’s funny?” he asks as he sees my lips twitch into a smile.
“You think I’m a mystery, and I feel like I’ve known you forever. Like we’re two old shoes sitting side by side in the same closet.”
“I’m an old shoe?” He makes an exaggerated face. “Well, that’s not very romantic, is it?”
“It’s romantic,” I defend myself. “It’s wildly romantic. Not everyone gets the luxury of growing old together.”
He bites his lip. “No, I suppose they don’t.”
I think about the target on my head and the people we’ve both lost. “Do you think…,” I ask hesitantly. “Maybe you and I are meant to live several lifetimes at once, instead of just one long one?”
“No.” His voice is firm, and his hands come up to cup my face. “You’re going to live until you’re toothless and gray. I’ll make sure of that.”
“Toothless and gray. Now that’s romantic.”
“So you want romance, do you?” He moves himself closer.
“Finn. You need to sleep.”
His voice drops to a husky murmur. “I know how we can get me good and sleepy.…”
“Finn.” I repeat my warning, but I can’t deny the fluttery feeling in my stomach that was brought on by his words—and the borrowed memories that go with them. “We’ve got a job to do.”
“I suppose I’ll defer to your sound judgment,” he says with a yawn and a stretch. “But I’d like to continue this discussion sometime.”
“We need to sleep,” I hedge. Now isn’t the time or place for this. Not with Ben’s mental health on the line.
He closes his eyes with a sigh, then a moment later, he lets out another.
I open my eyes to look at him, and I put my hand up, laying it gently on his head. I slowly run my fingers through his hair, fascinated by the feel of its silkiness, concentrating on a slow, even rhythm as my hand moves, and Finn closes his eyes with a look of pure contentment on his face.
“That’s lovely,” he murmurs. “Just lovely.”
I have a vision of him with his head in my lap; both of us on a blanket at the beach on a warm spring day, and my fingers play through his hair just like this as I listen to the waves rolling in to the shore. I don’t know if that’s a real memory or something my imagination has drummed up, but I know it could have happened just that way. And he would have this same smile of contentment on his face while I did it.
Finn’s breathing begins to deepen, and I pull my hand back, taking this time to study his unguarded face. He’s got a tiny scar on his cheek, very faint, and you’d have to be as close as I am to notice it. One of the differences in a sea of similarities between the Finns I’ve known.
My eyes grow heavy, even without the benefit of a shot of NyQuil, and I let them close. I yawn, and then I blink slowly as my eyes adjust to the brilliant light of the classroom.
“The poor boy is nearly mad from it,” Finn is saying to Mario. Then he looks over his shoulder at me as he realizes I’ve arrived.
“There you are.”
“Does Ben have any idea what you suspect?” Mario asks me.
“No. I didn’t say a word to him.”
Mario strides for the red door, and we’re right behind him. “Stay out of the way,” he says. “Just … find a corner and keep Ben busy. Whatever you do, don’t interfere.”
Mario jerks the door open, and we step into … a museum? I guess that makes sense—this is Ben, after all. The walls are lined with displays of soccer trophies and memorabilia, with shelves of books every so often that stretch out in an infinite line.
I walk carefully behind Mario and Finn, feeling guilty for being here. It’s awfully personal, invading somebody’s mind. I know I did this with Danny, but I’m not sure how Ben will feel about us being here.
We move farther into the bookshelves, and Mario holds up a hand.
“Listen,” he whispers.
We go still, listening, and the soft sounds of voices in conversation carry through the cavernous room.
“… absolutely right,” Ben’s voice comes through. “They’re trying to make me feel like I’m paranoid, but I’m completely unbiased.”
“Of course you are, of course you are. He’s the interloper.” I recognize Rudy’s genteel British tones.
“That’s exactly what he is. An interloper.”
“And he’s unnecessary now,” Rudy goes on. “With the mirrors in hand, there’s no reason for him to hang about, is there?”
“Nope. Hey, any more research projects like that lying around? I enjoyed that one.”
“And you were very helpful,” Rudy says. “But did they reward you?”<
br />
“No, I got dropped in a lake.”
“And no one bothers to examine Finn’s motives.” Rudy tsk-tsks.
We pause on the other side of the shelves from where they sit. I can look through a gap in the books and see them, sitting on opposite sides of a long table. There’s an entire five-gallon tub of ice cream open in front of Ben, and he’s eating out of it with a spoon.
“I know all about his motives,” he says angrily. “It’s just like you said. He brings death everywhere he goes.”
“He’s obviously working with Eversor,” Rudy says, with empathy just dripping from his voice. “She’s playing an elaborate cat-and-mouse game with our Jessa, and it will end badly. He’s been Eversor’s lover, you know.”
“That’s right!” Ben shovels more ice cream into his mouth.
“You need to go over there again tomorrow.”
“She won’t listen to me,” Ben says, shaking his head.
“Then you need to take action!” Rudy’s voice is soft, urgent. “Or would you rather delay and find her dead? Strangled? Beaten? Stabbed, perhaps—he killed her that way already in another reality stream. How will you feel when her lifeless body greets you—”
Rudy waves his hand, and a large picture frame behind him comes to life, showing a vision of me, lying in a pool of blood, my eyes sightless and my limbs broken. The skin covering my skull has been sheared away by great force, hanging off to the side. I stare at it in horror, and I’m not the only one.
“Stop!” Ben crams his palms into his eyes. “Stop! I can’t—”
“That’s enough.” Mario steps out from behind the shelves, and Rudy slowly gets to his feet as we step in behind him.
“Well, well, well…,” he coos. “We have guests.”
Ben wipes his eyes and turns to look at us. Once he sees Finn, he jumps to his feet.
“What are you doing here?” he demands. “Jessa! Get away from him!”
“Ben.” I step in front of Finn. “This is Rudy. The runaway Dreamer.” I point at Rudy, and he stares at me with a hint of a condescending smile.
“He’s been in here, feeding you misinformation,” Mario says.
“No.” Ben shakes his head. “He’s got insight. He knows what’s really going on.”