The Girl In Between series: Books 1-4

by Laekan Zea Kemp

  “There’s an IV,” I said.

  Vogle knelt, checking Sam’s responses as well as her arms and legs for bedsores. “He’s mad. He’s been mad for a long time.” He stood, raking a hand across one of the lab tables, glass beakers shattering on the ground. “Why the hell didn’t I see it?”

  “Vogle…” I put a hand on his back.

  He lifted one in return. “I’m sorry.”

  “You take Sam’s body,” I said. “We’ll—”

  “Bryn…” Sam’s gaze was pinned to the doorway, her pupils clear and rippling like fog.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Are you looking for something too?”

  My throat clenched, thinking of my grandmother and of Dani. “Yes.”

  Sam’s gaze snapped to my face. “She’s here.”

  I abandoned gravity in an instant, leaving Sam and Vogle in the lab as I reached the frosted door of the observation room. Smeared colors moved behind the glass, revolving around the limp silhouette that was my body.

  When I pushed the door open she didn’t even turn and look at me. She just stared down at the helpless thing in front of her, the stranger inside her salivating over it. I could sense it, the darkness too close for comfort. And still, all I wanted was to reach for her.

  I took careful steps to her right, loud enough to let her know I was there. She shivered like a wild animal caught out in the rain, my breathing like thunder that sent tremors down her entire body. But it wasn’t enough to make her lose her grip.

  That’s what I saw when I finally got close enough. Dani’s hands around my throat, my sleeping body turning blue. It was already bruised and wilting. Dying. The way Roman’s body had looked when I’d first found him on the beach. He was a hydrangea before it blooms and now so was I.

  “Dani.”

  The shock of my voice set her teeth but she still didn’t let go. That’s when I finally reached for her, my hands igniting smoke the minute they touched her skin. I looked down at them—red and molten like the Rogues—the only weapon strong enough to rip out whatever was inside of her.

  “I can’t!” Dani screamed against the burning. “I can’t stop.”

  “Let go.” My voice rattled, the panic in me rising as the blue hue spread to my lips.

  But her grip was unnatural, fingers locked in place. I tore at them, drawing blood and covering her in burns and blisters as she screamed and begged for everything that was hurting to finally let go of her.

  She fell to her knees, taking my body with her, her grip on my throat still tight. I fell too, pinning her shoulders to the ground, but in the midst of the heat radiating from my skin I felt the cold too. Dani let go of my body, her pupils black and glistening. But they didn’t look defeated. They looked smug.

  Her hands abandoned my body and latched onto me instead. She tossed her head back, the shadow ripping out in a storm cloud that made the entire room quake. Beneath the rumble I heard Sam’s voice but when I turned she was already off her feet, struck by lightening and tangled in it at the same time. Her face was stricken, her hands reaching. She cried something silent, the shadow coiling around her like a snake. She struggled, limbs twitching, mouth straining for air. Then she fell limp. With her eyes still open, her hands still reaching. Sam disappeared, the darkness swallowing her, and when it tossed her back out she was empty.

  I clawed my way towards her, Dani’s hands on my waist and slipping to my calves as she tried to hold me back. The shadow hung over me, tendrils tearing at my clothes and piercing my skin. It pressed in, heavy and grinding my bones. That’s when I smelled it—rain.

  Suddenly my knees were cutting through mud, my hands clawing through the damp grass. Raindrops stung my face, cold and burning me. Sam was lying on the ground, my fingers brushing the heel of her foot as I fought to reach her. But I felt the same cold ache I’d felt that night in that dark alley. My chest heaved, ribs threatening to break. The force was so strong and I strained for every breath.

  “Sam…”

  She was perfectly still, her mouth hanging open as the shadow slithered inside her. Her back arched off the ground and I reached for her, trying to shield her. But as I leaned in close, her eyes were already dark, the pupils seared black. I could see the veins cutting through her eyelids, her ashen skin pocked by dark blooms that spread across her cheeks.

  I shook her. “Sam. Wake up. You have to make yourself wake up.”

  I pressed my ear to her mouth, the cold burning my cheek. But the shadow was gone, no longer hanging over my head but turning Sam’s insides to ice. Every inch of her hardened, skin frozen until it cracked beneath the brush of my finger.

  “Sam…” I breathed her name against her cheek. “Wake up. Please.” My tears streaked her face. “Please, Sam. Just wake up.”

  But she didn’t.

  I screamed and I pleaded.

  I waited.

  But Sam didn’t wake up.

  I pressed my ear to her chest, searching for the sound of her pulse, but all I could hear was the thing inside her, ringing against the emptiness, and she was hollow.

  She was dead.

  I laid still, a sob racking my ribs, threatening to tear me in two. But I couldn’t move. I waited for the shadow to come for me too. I waited to die. But instead I felt the harsh burn of waking, my bones cracking, my soul ripping from my body.

  A single syllable brushed against my face—my name, over and over. I heard him calling me, consciousness trying to lure me back. But Sam…her eyes were still open. Her hand was still buried in mine. And it was cold. She was so cold. She was…

  I couldn’t.

  I couldn’t save her.

  I couldn’t go to him.

  I couldn’t wake up.

  And even worse, I didn’t want to.

  46

  Roman

  The lights flickered overhead as I ran to the end of the hall and rounded the corner. I counted the doorways to the observation room. One. Three. Four. The blinds to Bryn’s room were still drawn, the door closed, but when I pushed it open she wasn’t lying in the observation chair.

  She was split in two, one version of her in a tangled mess of limbs on the floor, and an identical body cradled in Dani’s arms.

  I didn’t think. I lunged for them both but just before I reached Dani, she turned, mouth thrown open in a growl that I could see. Dark locusts poured out, round hard bodies knocking into me. They spun me in a circle, making me gag, the feel of their teeth making it hard to breathe. I fell onto my knees, swatting at them with glowing hands but it wasn’t enough.

  I could still see Dani, an apex of the wild darkness all around us, and I crawled towards her. And there was no being careful. There was no fighting my instincts to spare her life. When I ignited this time, from the tip of my scalp to the balls of my feet, the entire room was on fire and so was she.

  My hands hooked around Dani’s throat, the darkness playing on her lips snatched in my fist. I pulled with every ounce of strength, the shadow bucking and writhing as I forced it out of her. Dani thrashed, her skin turning grey as my flame raced down inside her, turning everything to ash. She blinked, tears disintegrating one by one in the heat, the pain and the fear not enough to numb her.

  She stared at me, right through me. “I’m…” One word and in just the sound of her voice I could hear the apology, the plea. And then she fell limp.

  The locusts fell like stars, exploding in a searing flash before whispering into ashes. Smoke and shadow swirled around me, the room tumbling into a blur, darkness twisting like ghosts—ghosts that gnashed and tore at me, screams threatening to rip me in two. This shadow was stronger than the others, full of whatever it had taken from Bryn and from Dani.

  The room was a giant vortex, the walls bowing and cracking and ready to crumble. I took Bryn in my arms, her hair wild and flying around her face. Then I saw them—tears—pooling in the corners of her eyes, tearing pale streaks down her face.

  No. Please, Bryn.

 
I shouted her name over the surge of wind and heat but she didn’t stir. She stared into nothing, saying nothing, being nothing. She was empty.

  She’s not. She’s not.

  Wake up.

  Heat radiated from every inch of me until I thought I was going to explode. My veins felt like they were ripping from my skin, my heart beat ticking like a time bomb.

  Please, Bryn.

  Desperation lit me like a fuse, a wave rippling up from the soles of my feet, up through my calves, my chest and my neck as a flash ripped through the room. My knees met the floor, my grip on Bryn lost, and everything was dark.

  My vision filtered back in pieces—colors and shapes that made me feel like I was outside my body. I searched the quiet with my hands first and when the shapes around me sharpened I was sitting in a room full of bodies. Dani’s. Dr. Banz’s. Sam’s. Bryn’s.

  Bryn.

  I crawled over to her, brushing the hair from her face, exhaling when I saw her do the same.

  “Bryn?”

  She was still, the air stuttering over her lips.

  I bent down next to her ear, my voice quavering. “Bryn. It’s me. Please.”

  I watched her eyes flutter, racing behind her lids and I wondered if she was still dreaming.

  “Bryn…” I leaned over her, my lips brushing the side of her mouth. “Bryn, wake up.”

  She let out a breath, shoulders heaving, but she wouldn’t open her eyes.

  “Bryn, it’s okay. It’s gone.” I grazed her hand and she flinched. “You’re okay. I promise. You’re okay now.” I choked down my fear and forced out the words. “Just, please. Please, wake up.”

  “Roman…” Vogle’s voice was like the prick of a needle and suddenly the room was full of sounds.

  Dani’s muffled cries against Felix’s chest. Dr. Banz’s muttering and sighs and muffled questions. Andre’s growl as he pushed him against the wall. Domingo’s whispered words to Stassi who was nothing more than chattering teeth.

  And me. I was barely breathing but the sound was still coming out wiry and wretched.

  “Please, let me take her,” Vogle said.

  I released Bryn’s body and shot onto my feet, Vogle’s throat gripped in my fist. I slammed him against the wall. “Let you what? Let you take her? Fix her?” I pointed at her stillness, forcing Vogle to look. “You did this!”

  Hands took hold of me, Andre on one side and Domingo on the other.

  “Roman, stop and think,” Andre said. “Just breathe.”

  I locked eyes with Vogle, the anger in me melting, the rage falling out of me in tears. “You were supposed to protect her.”

  You.

  Me.

  I was supposed to protect her.

  I fell to my knees, the words tolling inside me. I waited for them to break me open. That’s what I deserved. But nothing and no one broke me. There was no yelling or fighting or even questions. No one spoke a word to me as Vogle carried Bryn out, the room emptying one body at a time until Felix was sitting in front of me.

  And we just sat there, through the sound of sirens, the sound of Bryn’s mom screaming over Vogle’s voice, footsteps and doors opening and closing, nurses shuffling in and out, police officers directing us in German to answer their questions or leave or move. But I couldn’t.

  “Where are they taking her?” When I finally spoke my voice was so unfamiliar I thought a thousand years had gone by, that I’d withered and rotted away and this was the voice of death.

  Felix stood, reaching out a hand. “I’ll take you.”

  When we reached the main floor of the hospital my body tightened, muscles rejecting every familiar sound and smell. I felt like I was walking back in time, back into a nightmare that was supposed to be long over. I was awake. I was awake and I could walk and I was not the person trapped in that hospital bed.

  Bryn was. And the realization was even worse. Because the only reason Bryn was here was because I hadn’t been. I hadn’t been with her. I hadn’t done the one thing I was put on this earth to do.

  When I met Vogle midway down the hall I stopped short. I couldn’t look at him as I said, “I’m—”

  “It’s alright,” he stopped me.

  I finally met his eyes. “How is she?”

  Vogle was quiet.

  “Has she…” I wasn’t sure how to finish that question or which one to ask first.

  Vogle stopped me, answering all of them with a simple, “No.” He hung his head. “She’s not responsive.”

  I waited for the words to click into place, for them to mean something but my mind was racing.

  Vogle cleared his throat. “She’s—”

  I cut him off. “Do you think she’s having another episode?” He hesitated and I narrowed my eyes, trying to read him. “Did she slip into a coma?”

  “Roman…”

  My voice sharpened. “What?”

  “Roman, she’s shown no neurological signs of responsiveness. There’s absolutely no activity.”

  My stomach was in my throat. “What does that mean?”

  Vogle lowered his voice. “It means that she’s brain dead.”

  My vision narrowed, the world on a harsh tilt. I reached for something to keep me from falling and Felix held me upright.

  “You should sit down,” Felix said.

  “No, I—”

  “Just breathe, Roman. Take a sec—”

  “No!” I tried to catch my breath. “Just…let me see her.”

  My legs carried me forward despite every cell in my body telling them to stop. I stumbled over every fear and every thought, clutching the walls as I tried to drag myself to her room. The Rogues lined the hallway just outside her door, stoic and staring straight ahead. For the first time I saw them the way Bryn had—like ghosts. They looked back at me with the same resignation. Because suddenly I was one of them.

  Unless I crossed the threshold into her room and…what? The reason I’d come to Germany in the first place was because I was afraid Bryn was in danger and since then everything I or Vogle or Dr. Banz had done was to avoid this moment. This tragedy. The only reason I’d been brought back to life, the only reason that I existed at all was to protect Bryn. I was nothing without her and without me she was…

  Don’t think it. Don’t even think it.

  Vogle had used the word but I couldn’t. Not yet. Not until I felt that deadness, until I touched it and absorbed it and buried myself beneath it. I wouldn’t believe Bryn was dead until the force of her absence crushed me into a million pieces, until I closed my eyes and dreamt of nothing but darkness.

  When I reached the threshold of her room I stalled. “I don’t know what to do,” I whispered.

  “You don’t have to.” Bryn’s grandmother was standing next to me, a firm hand on my back. Her touch was brief but something small in me felt mended.

  “You’re back,” I said.

  Her eyes wrinkled, confused. “I never left.”

  Her hand led me inside Bryn’s room, curtains separating her from sleeping strangers. When Bryn’s mom saw me, Dani’s mom ushered them both out, their sobs wracking every step. One clung to the back of my throat too but it wasn’t until I was alone with her, until the curtain fell closed behind Bryn’s grandmother that I let it tear out.

  She was the smallest thing I had ever seen, wrapped up and strung out like a doll. Beautiful and still and…

  “I’m sorry.” I choked. “I’m sorry, Bryn.”

  She breathed in response but that wasn’t enough. I fell forward and something glinted between her clenched fingers, a thread spooled around her left thumb. I reached for her, slipped it free. A locket. I’d never seen her wear it and I wondered if she’d carried it with her from the past, a relic, a treasure she’d traded for her life.

  I clenched it in my fist until it was purple, holding my breath until the rest of me was too. “I’m so sorry.”

  She twitched, hearing me.

  “Bryn?”

  Her breathing slowed.

/>   “Do it.” Hands pressed into the other side of the bed. My hands. My gaze snapped up and my face, dark and scarred and evil was staring down at Bryn just across from me. The shadow was more alive than I’d ever seen it, wearing my flesh like a wild skin won in battle. It’s mouth twitched, attempting to lure me in with a smile. “Put her out of her misery.”

  I waited for instinct to maneuver me but I was paralyzed.

  “Finish what you started.”

  My lip quavered. “I didn’t—”

  The dark eyes across from me narrowed. “You did.” It leaned closer, almost brushing Bryn’s arm. “You did this. Now, finish it.”

  I quaked, the fire starting in my gut. “Don’t touch her.”

  “Too late,” it hissed.

  The vision of me blinked out, shadow trailing out the open window like a serpent. I stared into the night, the darkness threatening to hurl me out after it. I wanted to go. I wanted to jump, to disappear, to die.

  But I couldn’t go without feeling her one more time.

  I looked back down at Bryn and suddenly her eyes were open.

  My breath caught, hands trembling. “Bryn?”

  Her eyes settled on my face and then she unraveled, a spool of thorns that cut me open. Because she was afraid. I could see it in her eyes—my closeness, my voice, it terrified her senses and made her feel like prey. Because that’s all she’d ever been.

  “Bryn, it’s me. You’re safe.” I measured my words, trying to reel her into this moment, to trap her here where she was awake and alive and looking up at me.

  But Bryn didn’t answer, she only trembled. Her eyes searched my face, the vacancy in them rotting my insides.

  And then she opened her mouth and said, “It’s not a dream.”

  Part III

  The Children of the Moon

  1

  Bryn

  I waited. For hours. For days. The sun never sank down but I could feel every nightfall. I could feel the cold, the darkness reaching for me, the slow drawl of my name. It fell on me hard like rain. That voice. I knew that voice. Or maybe it knew me.