The Girl In Between series: Books 1-4

by Laekan Zea Kemp

  Celia had been the one to warn Bryn’s grandmother that Bryn needed protecting. She’d sent a letter with no return address, most of it a list of instructions for enchantments to ward off nightmares and binding spells to connect Bryn to the flowers in her grandmother’s garden, the wilting petals acting as some kind of warning.

  It was obvious those warnings were useless now. Maybe they always had been. But there was something else in Celia’s letter, something that had changed everything—Tell the girl she was never meant to just see the future. She was meant to control it. It was all the proof Bryn needed that she was dangerous.

  “Where is she?” I asked.

  “When I moved to the States we lost touch. I haven’t spoken to her in years. I have no idea where she is or if she’s even…”

  “Alive?”

  “You’d think I’d feel it, that I’d know if she was gone.” She gazed out the window. “But I don’t feel anything.” She dug an envelope out of her purse, the seam ripped open. “I’ve read it over and over for months but there’s nothing more to decipher, no clues, no nothing. You take it. I just can’t look at it anymore.”

  I took the letter. “Um…thank you.”

  She sighed. “Maybe after all this time, after all that’s happened she still doesn’t want to be found.”

  “Maybe it’s too dangerous,” I said, trying to imagine how someone like Bryn could have survived all this time unhidden.

  “Too dangerous?” Bryn’s grandmother huffed, pointing to Bryn. “This is a helpless child who she’s left to fend for herself.”

  Under any other circumstances those would have been the last words I’d ever use to describe Bryn Reyes, but standing over her hospital bed, her smallness like a sharp blade, nothing could be more true.

  “Did Bryn ever tell you the story?” her grandmother asked.

  “What story?”

  “Los Niños de La Luna.” She moved to the window. “I told Bryn the story when we were in Germany but…I didn’t tell her all of it. For so long I could only remember bits and pieces but ever since we got home I’ve been trying to recall every last detail. Then last night I had a dream.” She met my eyes. “You were in the story too.”

  “Me?”

  “I know what you are.” She clutched my hands. “And I know where Bryn is.”

  It felt like my body had disappeared, my stillness absolute. “Where is she? Please, what am I supposed to do?”

  “When the Dreamers became too powerful, no one could destroy them. Instead, the Mystics summoned something so evil that it forced the children into a deep sleep, just long enough for the bodies to begin deteriorating on their own. ”

  I knelt next to Bryn. “They trapped them in a dream?”

  “No,” she said. “Something worse.” She reached for Bryn’s hand, brushing the air instead. “A nightmare.”

  My heart skipped a beat. I remembered being alone in Bryn’s dream-state as it ripped apart, the stillness and the beauty of her memories twisting into the chaos of every fear and every nightmare I’d ever had.

  “How do I get her back?”

  “The dreams…” she started. “They’re how you met. What if…?” She stopped, trying to make sense of her own thoughts. “Do you still dream of her?”

  I heard the creak of metal, the bed slamming against the wall. Bryn’s stillness evaporated, her body erupting into violence. She lurched, twisting, screaming. I rushed to the bed but I couldn’t reach for her. I didn’t know how.

  Felix peered inside. “Is everything—?”

  “Get a nurse.”

  Bryn’s mouth was open, terror swirling behind her eyes until there were tears. A nurse ran in ahead of Felix, Bryn’s mother right behind them.

  “What happened?” she snapped.

  “I don’t know. She was sleeping and then she started screaming.”

  Suddenly I was moving backwards, Bryn’s mother forcing me out into the hall. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to catch her breath. The nurse injected Bryn with something and she quieted behind us but it didn’t stop the sound of her from ringing inside me. I’d gotten too close, she’d sensed me there, and now her mother was looking at me like I’d done something awful.

  She glared at the floor. “I think you should spend some time away from the hospital, Roman.”

  “What?”

  “I think it would do…everyone some good if you spent less time here.” She took a breath, faced me. “Bryn is…she’s not getting better, Roman. The doctors don’t even know all of the details yet but they know this isn’t a symptom of her KLS. They’ve diagnosed it as some kind of psychosis. Whatever Dr. Banz did to her…” She hesitated. “Roman, they want to move her to a mental hospital and it’s obvious that having people around, having you around, is only making things harder on her.”

  My knees buckled and I leaned against the wall.

  “I know how you feel about her, Roman.”

  “No.” She didn’t know how I felt. No one did.

  “Roman, I’m sorry.”

  I tried to nod, to move, to say something. But all I could do was watch as Bryn’s mother stepped back into her hospital room, the air knocked out of my lungs as the door clicked closed.

  Vogle, Felix, and I walked to the car in silence. It was cold, colder than it had been all week, and I started counting the days since I’d been home. Since I’d left my dad to go after Bryn, to make things right. But things weren’t right. They were wrong, so fucking wrong. I should have been in there with her. I should have been in the observation room that day. I should have protected her. I should have…

  Gravel bit into my knuckles and knees, my fists casting sparks that were useless now. I was useless—the flames inside me, the rage that ignited them, the strength and the awful sight that let me see the world’s darkness in all its fleshless forms—it was all useless.

  Felix sunk down next to me. “We’ll fix this.” I turned away and he gripped my shoulders. “We’ll fix this.”

  Tonight’s special was Mala Mushroom Chicken. We sat in a corner booth especially made for third wheels, the seat on the other side of me and Felix shortened to make room for a big Buddha statue. Vogle was crammed in next to it, trying not to rub its belly with his elbow.

  I fiddled with my chopsticks. “I can’t eat this…”

  Felix glanced up at the front counter, nudged my plate. “Sorry, but you’re on your own with that one. The last time I tried to ask for a fork in this place, Mrs. Fang chased me up to my apartment with a dirty dish towel.”

  The moment he said her name, a small plump woman appeared behind the counter, giving me the side eye as I picked at my food.

  “I meant because of Bryn.”

  Felix looked down. “I know this is hard, man. It fucking sucks but we’ll figure something out. I’ll smuggle you inside in a laundry cart if I have to.”

  “Maybe we should talk about something else for a little while,” Vogle offered.

  The sudden silence revealed how impossible not talking about Bryn would actually be. She was the reason we were all there together. The three of us never would have met if it wasn’t for her.

  “I heard from Andre,” Vogle said.

  “And?” I sat forward. “Where are they? Have they found Michael yet?”

  “Not yet. After everything that’s happened with…Bryn and Sam…”

  Felix folded his arms behind his head. “Well, that lasted a good ten seconds.”

  “They’re doing everything they can to find the Dreamers out there who may be vulnerable,” Vogle continued, ignoring him. “Especially the young ones who are exposed and unprotected.”

  “Are they having any luck?” I asked.

  “It didn’t sound like it.”

  “Did they say anything about coming to the States?”

  Vogle shook his head. “Andre called me from a payphone so we didn’t talk long.”

  “But they’re alright.”

  “They seem to be.”


  The Rogues were fine. I was fine. How was it that after all was said and done the shields didn’t have a scratch on them and the person we’d meant to protect was…

  “I know what you’re thinking, Roman, and I promise I will keep an eye on her.”

  The promise was easy, mostly because there wasn’t much left to keep an eye on. Bryn was a shell, housing something that didn’t seem to need our protection, let alone want it. She couldn’t stand my proximity and more importantly, there was nothing left for the shadows to take.

  “That some kind of weird Rogue telepathy you two got goin’ on?” Felix asked.

  Vogle sighed in annoyance. “I was thinking of her too. Most of the time, I’m sure we all are.”

  “Weren’t you?” I said, putting Felix on the spot.

  He shrugged. “Actually, I was sort of thinking about eggrolls.” His cheeks flamed. “But I’m thinking of her now. And I’m thinking that I sure would like ten minutes alone with that quack German doc of hers.”

  “What happened to Dr. Banz after we left?” I asked Vogle.

  “He was arrested and charged with patient endangerment. He made bail but last I heard he was involved in an accident.”

  Felix quirked an eyebrow. “What kind of accident?”

  Vogle crossed his arms, looking aloof. “Let’s just say I had ten minutes alone with him on your behalf.”

  Felix pressed a fist to his mouth. “Oh, shit, now that is one geriatric prize fight I would have paid money to see.”

  “I’m not senile,” Vogle growled. “And just for the record, physical violence is never something to be proud of. For one moment I let my emotions get the best of me. Besides, how else was I supposed to get my hands on this?” He reached into his satchel before sliding a maroon notebook across the table.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “Dr. Banz’s notes. He had a whole library full of these. Most were just daily logs, some more like journals, but he’d condensed all of his observations pertaining to Eve into this one notebook.”

  The cover was bowed as if it had been wet, the spine swollen with extra pages tucked between the seams.

  “Is this why Dr. Sabine pulled you aside earlier?” I asked. “To see this?”

  “In part.”

  “And the other part?”

  “To discuss her recent recommendation to move Bryn to another hospital.”

  “You mean to the mental hospital,” I corrected him.

  I was still trying to absorb what Bryn’s mother had said about her doctors treating her psychosis rather than her KLS. It turned my stomach to picture what it would be like for Bryn in a mental hospital. She didn’t belong there.

  “It’s not definite,” Vogle said, sharing my sentiment. “Now that I’ve arrived, Dr. Sabine is anxious to look over Dr. Banz’s notes and who knows, they may change her recommendation.”

  “Or we could just tell her the truth,” I said.

  Vogle furrowed his brow. “You know we can’t do that.”

  “I know,” I said, even though, at this point, I couldn’t see what more harm it could possibly do.

  “Why not?” Felix asked, sincere.

  Vogle lowered his voice. “The original Dreamer was destroyed.”

  “Yeah, by her own father,” I added.

  “It’s possible the reason the Dreamers have been hidden all this time is to avoid that very history from repeating itself. There would obviously be people out there who would think their very existence was blasphemous; maybe they’d be jealous of their power, maybe some would try to use them. It’s just too dangerous, which is why Andre and the others are racing to find the youngest ones first. With more Dreamers reaching their full potential before their Rogues find them, there are too many chances for us all to be exposed.”

  I couldn’t help but think of Sam. As Bryn got closer to her eighteenth birthday, her increasing vulnerability had allowed the shadows to cause her actual physical pain. Despite the fact that Sam was only eight years old, she’d suffered the same injuries. I remembered the scratches on them both and how the shadow had attacked Sam in the antiques shop. What if there were Dreamers out there even younger who somehow weren’t being hidden? What would happen to them if the Rogues didn’t find them in time?

  I could tell Vogle was thinking of Sam too, his silence betraying his simmering grief. We’d left before her funeral but I knew Vogle had probably gone out of guilt. Or maybe he’d stayed away for the same reason.

  Felix sensed how desperate we were to change the subject and pointed to the open page in front of Vogle. “So, anything interesting in there?”

  Vogle spun the notebook until it was facing him again. “I always knew Eve was the driving force behind Dr. Banz’s research but I didn’t know his true intentions until…”

  “Until he started drugging Bryn and Sam,” I said.

  “He was obsessed and I…I didn’t see it.” Vogle scratched at his brow. “Maybe because I was too.”

  “But you were obsessed with finding a cure,” I said. “Dr. Banz was obsessed with…”

  “Finding Eve,” Vogle finished. “I’m sure it didn’t help things once he realized that Bryn had visited one of her grandmother’s childhood memories in a dream.”

  “Or that she’d made her grandmother disappear in the process,” I said.

  “Or that she’d brought her back. He was obviously trying to do the same thing with Eve.”

  “Like Michael,” Felix said. “Isn’t that what Domingo and Stassi had said? That he’d wanted to use Stassi to somehow travel into the past and bring back the other Dreamers?”

  I nodded, remembering how Domingo’s sister Stassi could navigate the past, how she could see the dead.

  Vogle sighed. “Grief is a powerful thing.”

  “Too powerful.” I stared back down at the notebook. “If Dr. Banz was looking for Eve all this time, it must have meant that he never actually believed she was dead. He obviously thought she existed somewhere, stuck maybe.”

  “I suppose we’ll never know…” Vogle said.

  “Unless Bryn wakes up and tells us that she saw her.” I stared at the grain of the table as I replayed my conversation with Bryn’s grandmother. Not just the story, or even the words, but the inflection of her voice, the way she’d drifted around the room. The way she’d clutched my hands. I lowered my voice. “Vogle, Bryn’s not in there. I know it.”

  “We can’t know—”

  “It’s just a body, Vogle.” I met his eyes. “You know it, too.”

  He didn’t agree or even argue. He looked down at Dr. Banz’s notes, waiting for them to reveal what Bryn’s grandmother already had.

  “She’s somewhere else, Vogle.”

  He looked up the moment he realized the gravity of what I was trying to say. “Dr. Banz drugged Bryn and Sam because they could navigate the past.” His voice softened. “We can’t.”

  “We don’t know that. Bryn and I met in a dream. What if I’m supposed to find her in one too?”

  “Do you still have them?” Felix asked.

  I tried not to let the realization sink me to the floor. “Not since the day we found her.”

  When I’d asked Shay and Andre how they knew their Dreamers were dead, they’d told me it was because the dreams had stopped. The Dreamers disappeared, taking the dreams with them, severing that final thread of connection. It was how Shay and Andre had both become Rogues. It was how they’d known they’d failed. But I already knew that I’d failed. I’d known it the moment I saw Bryn’s body lying on that observation room floor. What I hadn’t known until now was just how much.

  5

  Bryn

  “Bryn?”

  His voice was glass, stinging and pricking and filling me with holes. Holes that let the cold in, the wind carving them into hollows and emptiness that made me wish I was dead. That reminded me I already was.

  “Bryn. Look at me.”

  My face wrenched up, something I couldn’t see snapping me until I
was looking right at him. But I didn’t want to look. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want him to see me.

  His eyes flashed like they were alive.

  “Roman?”

  He smiled and I shuddered.

  “Please,” I whispered.

  He leaned in close, his jaw against my jaw, lips firm behind my ear. “I love you, Bryn.”

  My stomach turned.

  “Now,” he said, gripping my scalp, “don’t move.”

  The vines tightened around me, thorns like a locked jaw that only dug deeper the more I tried to move. Roman sat next to me, wringing his hands. They were the only light to see by, the glow of him so harsh it drew tears. He leaned over me, staring, and then he pressed both flaming hands against my skin while I screamed.

  My vision blurred, the heat yanking me in and out of consciousness. I coughed out his name and then choked it back down, his eyes blazing as he watched me burn. I could feel his hot breath and even though I didn’t want him to be real, even though I told myself over and over that he wasn’t, I couldn’t fight the taste of him. He pressed his hard mouth over mine and I couldn’t deny it.

  But then his lips turned to flames too. I fought and tried to scream, my tears caught between us, evaporating in the heat. It was agony. Blinding. Burning.

  He pulled back and something strange tugged at his mouth. My own was cracked and blistered and coming apart in pieces. My body was charred and breaking too but he still wouldn’t let go of me. The pain wouldn’t either. Roman blinked, almost dazed, and for a second I wondered if he was going to stop, if there was a part of him that wanted to.

  “Roman?”

  But then his hand covered my mouth and all he could say was, “I’m sorry,” as he drove the flames down into my throat.

  6

  Roman

  When we got back to Felix’s apartment, I buried myself in his couch, aching for sleep. I thought about the Köln building, about the cracks, the broken glass. About Bryn. I reached for the dream, finally drifting, and then Felix plopped down on the end of the couch and turned on the television.