by A. J. Vrana
Miya slashed the sharpened edge across Velizar’s throat. His lips parted in a silent scream, and blood like wet asphalt trickled down his neck. He tried to fight it, clawing at the wound, but it was no use. His body began to convulse as his skin cracked like baked earth. His veins pulsed under thinning flesh, joints seizing and snapping as he withered. Miya watched as he succumbed to the inevitable, and those gleaming golden eyes paled like winter straw.
Finally, he went still.
54
KAI
Miya had been under for barely a minute, but time worked differently in the dreamscape. A fleeting moment to the living could’ve been an eternity to a spirit. Kai wasn’t sure he’d hold out long enough to see Miya wake up. His body was leaking like a soggy basement ceiling about to cave in, rattling his confidence that he’d be able to heal. His nemesis had made him cocky.
Rusalka hovered nearby. Through bleary eyes, he saw her vibrate and shimmer like pearlescent fish scales. Her scent wafted in and out of his awareness, and he figured she was trying to keep tabs on Miya, weaving her essence through both worlds.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kai sensed Velizar’s distress, his fear flickering on the edge of his waning life force. Velizar had hunted them for centuries, and now he was the prey. Kai had full faith Miya would curb-stomp him into a fat tree root, but he wished he could be with her. He hated just lying there, immobile and helpless as he watched over her comatose body.
Just stay alive, he bargained with himself. He never imagined it would be so difficult.
Ama and Crowbar had scrambled to tend to his wounds, tearing a tablecloth and wrapping it tightly around his midsection. He was so tired he couldn’t even react to the pain, wondering vaguely if this was what death felt like—not a desperate grab for a scrap of existence, but a gentle lull into nothingness.
He heard Rusalka approach as fatigue weighed on his vision.
“Stay the fuck away from me,” he growled when she was within reach.
“I won’t harm you,” she told him meekly.
He forced his eyes open and squinted at her. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for me,” he cracked, his lip curling into a sneer.
“Perhaps in another life.” She glanced at the girl by his side. “I don’t have much time left.”
“Good.”
“You may be right,” she mused. “Now that I’m at the cusp of my revenge, I feel so…empty. I do not hate. I do not fear. I just...” She paused, considering her next words. “I’m relieved.”
Kai snorted as he stared at the ceiling. “I’d be relieved too if I looked like a corpse, and someone finally put my decaying ass in the ground.”
She chuckled, the sound a light chime, and it disarmed him to see her so earnest.
“You’re funny,” she whispered. “I never appreciated that about you.”
“You didn’t seem to appreciate anything, if we’re being honest…”
“I’m relieved,” she went on, “because I get to pass on knowing I was wrong.”
Kai’s eyebrows drew together, and his mouth tugged into a frown. “You want to be wrong?”
“Yes,” she breathed, a smile breaking onto her face. “You proved me wrong, and now, I get to die for love. Not some facile nonsense or the violent jealousy of a fragile man. Real love. It’ll finally end me, and it’ll be my salvation.” She crouched down, her hand lightly grazing Miya’s cheek. “Being wrong allowed me something I never thought possible.”
Kai strained to lift his head as he glared protectively. “What?”
“Forgiveness,” said Rusalka. “I wanted all three of you to suffer.” Her hand drifted to his face, tracing the bruises along his jawline. “But you cut into your own heart to put us first.”
“Us?”
“Me,” she beamed, then turned to Miya. “And her. You finally saw the answer someone else needed. Not the one you wanted, but the one that was necessary.”
He sighed, craning his neck to evade her touch. “Don’t expect me to gush for you.” He faltered, then said carefully, “Velizar was a dick to me too. He also killed me. More than once.”
“You weren’t alone like I was,” she said. “You had the Dreamwalker.”
“I thought I was alone.”
Rusalka didn’t reply; her voice had depleted to a silent hiss. Kai glanced over to see her fading. The bony hand grazing his face wasted into nothing, and she looked up at him with fearful, searching eyes, like she was distraught that he might be looking right through her.
“I see you,” he said gently, and he felt her dread quiet as the final pieces of her disappeared.
She’d only ever wanted to be seen.
“Rest well, you bad bitch.”
55
MASON
The last time Mason saw his office felt like an eternity ago. Only twelve hours earlier, he’d booked a flight out of New Orleans, and after arriving in Vancouver, he didn’t even stop by his apartment before driving straight to the hospital. His immediate presence had been demanded.
The blinds were nearly shut, narrow streams of morning sunlight illuminating the floating motes of dust. The room smelled faintly of old air freshener—something that claimed to be like an ocean breeze. With a hefty sigh, Mason threw himself into his leather chair. It’d always contoured to his spine, but it no longer fit the same. Nothing ever did.
His appointment would be arriving soon, and he wasn’t remotely prepared. His mind was elsewhere, replaying the events at The Mangy Spade.
Tell them the truth, Miya had said.
He wondered if his truth would do her justice.
A knock sounded on the door, and Mason jolted in his seat.
“Come in,” he called, his voice cracking.
The Delathornes thundered into his office like a pair of storm clouds. Raymond was dressed in a stylish navy suit, a silver tie cinched impeccably beneath his collar. His salt and pepper hair was combed back, kept neatly in place by a modest helping of gel. Yet despite his coiffed appearance, dark circles rimmed his discerning green eyes. Andrea, too, looked worn, but this seemed less out of the ordinary. Her wild tresses were tied back, the grey roots peeking out just above her forehead. She clutched the hem of her jacket, her lips pursed as she and her husband silently took their seats across from Mason.
For a long, excruciating moment, no one spoke.
“Well?” Raymond finally broke the silence. “You said you had news regarding Emiliya’s whereabouts.”
“You found her.” Andrea wrung her hands in her lap. “But you said we needed to discuss it in person. Why?”
Mason took a deep breath. This was it.
“I can confirm that your daughter’s alive and well,” he said slowly.
“Where is she then? Why was your location not available on the call?” Raymond interrogated.
“So that you couldn’t trace my steps,” Mason replied, fighting a scowl that threatened to creep onto his face. “Yes, I found your daughter, and she wants you to know that she’s found something she loves. She’s happy and safe, and she’ll likely come back to you at some point, but until then, you need to let her go. Let her be her own person.”
“But—but why—” Andrea stuttered, her head shaking with each failed syllable. “I don’t understand. Why won’t you tell us where she is?”
“Because she doesn’t want to be found,” said Mason.
Raymond’s jaw clenched. He crossed his legs and gripped the chair’s armrest. “Last I checked, I was the one who hired you. Not my daughter.”
Mason had always been a patient man. Rarely roused to anger, he now found himself resisting the urge to pull a page from Kai’s playbook. He bit his tongue. “I have my reasons.”
“But why won’t she speak with us? She could at least let us know she’s well!” Andrea pleaded.
“She is speaking with you, ma’am. Through me. She requested that I act as the intermediary until she’s ready.”
“That’s absurd,” Raymond countered
. “Do you have any proof? Even a shred of evidence that Emiliya’s really alive?”
Mason was aghast. Miya’s unyielding parents burdened her with needless guilt in their foolhardy attempts to locate a daughter they wouldn’t even recognize. Now they wanted proof that the ghost was real?
“I have no reason to lie,” Mason shot back. “I wanted the truth just as much as you, and there’s nothing I can show you that’ll convince you she’s fine. Even if I did have something, how do you know I didn’t get it from her old landlady? Or from Hannah? You don’t want proof that she’s well; you just want her back.”
“I won’t pay you for your speculation!” Raymond shouted.
“And I don’t care!”
Mason could see the anger writhing on Raymond’s face, but for once, he had no retort. Andrea, however, was unrelenting.
“I still don’t understand why she won’t speak with us. Just a phone call!”
Mason sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you remember the last thing she would’ve heard about you?” When neither responded, he looked at them and said, “You were riling up the town to hunt her down.”
Raymond threw his arms up. “We weren’t hunting our daughter!”
“The town was,” Mason rebuked. “And you let it happen. You went along with it.”
“She was missing. It was a strategic decision,” Raymond grumbled, self-reproach flashing across his face.
Mason never imagined he’d miss Kai Donovan. If he could’ve, he would’ve teleported the brute into his office and unleashed him on Raymond Delathorne. Meet your son-in-law, he wanted to jeer.
“Say you found her.” Mason tapped his finger pointedly on his desk. “Say you rescued your daughter from the woods, but when you looked at her, all you saw was the Dreamwalker. What would you have done then?”
Raymond sputtered, “That’s a ridiculous question!”
“Is it?” Mason pressed. “Because it’s what everyone was thinking at that meeting. You heard the accusations. You were there. The fact that you can’t accept this is part of the problem, and it’s part of the reason she won’t see you.”
“My God,” Andrea gasped. “Of course, we wouldn’t have seen the Dreamwalker.”
Mason choked back the scornful laugh spuming in his mouth. If they only knew. “But if you did?”
Another protracted silence thickened the air.
Mason pushed back his chair and stood. “I can see this has been very hard on you, and I do apologize for not delivering the results you expected.” His gaze washed over them both, and he exhaled. “I’ll give you some time alone to process. If you’ll excuse me, I have to make a phone call.”
He strode over to the door, stopping as he was halfway through. “There’s just one thing…” he trailed off. “Everyone in Black Hollow was so convinced your daughter was lured away and possessed. No one ever thought to consider the obvious.”
Blinking away her stupor, Andrea looked over her shoulder and asked, “What?”
Mason smiled and shrugged. “That she chose to leave.”
The door clicked shut behind him. Mason rounded the corner and sped from his office before Raymond could come after him. His pulse thudded in his ears. He’d finally done it. Three years ago, he’d set out into the woods to save Emiliya Delathorne. He wanted to be a hero. He’d failed then, but not this time. He’d done the right thing and helped Miya on her terms; he gave her what she needed. All it took was a little blow to the ego.
Locking himself in a custodial room, Mason pulled out his phone and dialled Hannah Cleary.
“Dr. Evans?” she answered after several rings.
“Hannah—yes, it’s Mason.” He peered through the small rectangular window on the door. “Listen, there’s something I need to tell you, but I need your word that you won’t share it with Miya’s family.”
“Oh my God!” Her giddiness was audible. “You found her, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“She wants nothing to do with her parents. Not a shocker, honestly.”
“You understand then?”
“I do.” Hannah paused. “Where is she?”
“She didn’t ask me to share this with you, but honestly, I’m going out on a limb here.” He paced the crawlspace, then stopped. “I think she’d love to see her friend again. She’s in Louisiana. At least she was there. No idea where she’ll be going next, though.”
“How do I reach her?” Hannah asked.
That’s right, thought Mason. Miya was practically untraceable. Unable to help himself, he began to laugh, a great, hulking weight sliding off his shoulders.
“Call out to her in your dreams,” he said. “If you’re lucky, you may just get spirited away.”
56
MIYA
Miya rubbed the back of her neck and winced. Everything hurt, but it was finally over. The entire night had passed as they waged war with spirits and ghouls, and now dawn was breaking on the heels of a bittersweet victory.
With Ama’s help and Kai’s remaining sliver of consciousness, they’d stumbled through the back alleys towards Crowbar’s apartment. The bartender gawked at Ama as she hoisted Kai up with the strength of an Olympic weightlifter. She clearly didn’t care to keep up the charade that she was a five-foot-six human in reasonably good shape. No, she was a beast, and she would let it be known. Crowbar offered directions, but Ama kept cutting behind buildings to stay out of sight, much to the bartender’s chagrin.
It should have been a five-minute walk, but it took them four times that with Ama bearing the brunt of Kai’s weight. The white wolf was quiet throughout their ordeal, mumbling that she’d left the dining room spotless and ordered replacements for the smashed liquor bottles. She only realized how many were broken when she’d restored the shelves behind the bar and saw they were half empty.
“You owe me so many mimosas,” Crowbar had barked. “If Bastien comes back to a wrecked bar, I’m in shit.”
Now sitting cross-legged on the floor of Crowbar’s cramped bedroom, all seemed strangely quiet. Kai was resting on a mattress with no frame, his skin beaded with moisture as he slipped in and out of feverish dreams. Miya could hear pieces of Ama and Crowbar’s hushed conversation in the kitchen, though most of it was drowned out by the portal fan blasting away the sticky summer heat. She glanced up at Gavran, perched on the bedroom’s windowsill.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” she asked, and he canted his head, offering a low croak in response.
Footsteps sounded, and as the door opened behind her, Gavran dove off and flew away.
“Dahlia says we can stay as long as we need.” It was Ama, her tone sullen.
“Is she upset with us?” Miya asked.
Ama shook her head. “No. She’s just in shock. Worried she’ll be abandoned. Nervous that Kai’s not in the hospital.”
Miya had been more than just nervous; she’d feared for Kai’s life. Abaddon and Velizar had glibly taken credit for Kai’s supernatural healing, and the need for it had only ever arisen because of them. With the menace gone, she didn’t know if Kai’s body would work just like a regular person’s. Miya’s every cell had clotted with alarm when she returned from the dreamscape. Kai’s blood had gathered around her fingertips, alerting her to just how injured he was. He could’ve been dead on the floor next to her, his final moments passing in her absence. She never would’ve forgiven herself.
Luckily, the god of creation had always been a liar.
Miya pulled back the surgical gauze they’d used to dress Kai’s wound. By the time they’d cleaned him up, most of the profuse bleeding had stopped. He still healed quickly, though not as quickly. Mercifully, Crowbar kept a healthy stash of rolls in her bathroom for drunken accidents and bad fights that broke out near The Spade.
“He’s already much better. His temperature’s a bit high, but he’ll be okay. Besides, he hates hospitals.” Miya settled against the wall. “What’s this about being abandoned?”
&nbs
p; Ama padded over and sat next to her. “Dahlia doesn’t want us to disappear from her life.”
“Us?” Miya questioned. “Or you?”
Ama frowned. “Maybe more the latter than the former.”
“And you shouldn’t disappear. She’s lost too many people already.”
“Do you really believe that?” Ama probed her.
“Yes,” Miya nodded. “Imagine being at your worst. Imagine meeting someone who finally makes you feel something good while you’re at your worst. Then imagine having them disappear because the reason they came into your life had nothing to do with you.” She met Ama’s gaze. “How would that make you feel?”
“Point taken,” Ama sighed. “I suppose I just don’t want to screw it up.”
“You won’t,” Miya reassured her. “You’re a force of nature.”
They fell into a comfortable silence until Ama spoke up again.
“Maybe I was too harsh.”
“Huh?”
“Kai,” said Ama, “I don’t think I gave him enough credit.”
Miya wrapped an arm around the white wolf and gave her a gentle squeeze. “You and Gavran both.”
Ama patted her knee, then stood up. “I’ll leave you alone with him. I’m sure he’s cowering in some unconscious corner because he can smell me in the room.”
Miya couldn’t help but snicker. “I’ll be sure to tell him you’re cool when he wakes up. Either way, you’ve got more important things to do.” She inclined her head towards the door. “Take your girl out for that brunch you promised her. Buy her all the fancy mimosas.”
Ama smiled, a new light shining in her sunlit eyes. It wasn’t the coy mischief Miya was used to, but something brighter, more open. It looked a little bit like hope.
After she left, Miya heard chatter in the other room, followed by the clank of keys and the rustle of shoes. When the front door shut, Miya huffed with relief.