I heard the creak of a door, Andre stepping out. More doors creaked open, followed by the whisper of grass against knees. Felix and I followed, sticking close to Shay. I could hear the low hum of the tracker in her fist but I didn’t know how to read the sound.
Andre stopped beneath the trees, twigs snapping and stones tumbling as the rest of us followed suit. The crunch of leaves drew my gaze, a man with a goatee and an unkempt ponytail appearing out of nowhere. Despite his sharp edges, Andre ran for him, taking him up in his arms like a child.
There was laughter and I could breathe again. For the first time in years the rest of them could too.
Shay pulled at him. “It’s really you.”
“We looked for you everywhere,” Domingo said.
“It was dangerous.”
“Too dangerous,” Andre said. “We know. Still is.”
“I’m back. That’s all that matters,” Lathan said.
“You’re home,” Shay corrected him.
“I’m home.”
Everyone circled him, whispering and sighing and laughing some more. They took turns, sharing him and feeling him in the flesh, but it wasn’t long before the reunion was over and everyone remembered why we’d really come.
“I’m Lathan.” He reached out a hand to Felix, then me.
“Roman.”
“I heard you’re the one who scared Michael away.”
“I’d call it a collective effort.”
“Modest.” He scratched at his goatee, eyes bright. “That’s a good quality in a super hero.”
“I’m not a—”
“Today we are.” He patted me on the shoulder. “Today we have to be.”
Andre cleared his throat, hesitant. “What have you heard?”
Lathan gripped his chin. “That they’re turning them into slaves.”
“Anso,” I said.
Lathan let out a deep breath, examining us one face at a time. “Not just him. Other Dreamers.”
“No.” It was Stassi.
“Michael’s not the only one,” Lathan continued. “I suspected as much but I could never figure out the angle. We know why Michael’s desperate. He wants Darina back, he always has.”
Andre grunted. “You still believe that?”
“I do,” Lathan said. “Even though the shadow’s been controlling him, it still has to draw strength from somewhere. It’s the love he has for Darina that’s fueling the shadow in the first place.”
“And the other Dreamers?” Andre said. “Why the hell would they turn on their own kind?”
“Maybe they’re being forced to against their will.”
“Maybe Anso’s holding their bodies hostage,” I said.
“Or maybe he’s holding their Rogues hostage,” Lathan added. “We can’t be sure but I doubt they’re helping him willingly.”
“Then what do we do?” Andre cracked his knuckles. “How do we find these sons of bitches?”
There was a crash, the tree in front of us wrapped in flames. It was so bright and I strained to see where it had come from or what it was reaching for next. The tree swayed, the flames slithering into the canopy as the trunk started to tip.
Andre pushed Felix and me out of the way, Shay falling behind us. The trunk slammed to the ground, embers coughed in our faces, sizzling against our clothes. We beat them out, scrambling out of the way, but the flames were too high.
“Andre? Lathan?” Shay coughed, tried calling their names again.
I turned to ice. Even my skin felt hard as bone, the cold sweeping across the flames only fanning them higher. The shadows circled above us, their gravity trying to suck me in.
We were separated now, a wall of flames dancing between each of us. We all exchanged looks, holding our breath against the smoke. Then out of it stepped Michael. The Rogues were at the ready, gazes like daggers as the fire spread through the trees.
“You’ve finally come out of hiding.” Michael’s voice was clipped by the crackle of the flames. Shadows flanked him on either side like hellhounds, growling and ready to pounce.
Lathan hurled a straight beam of light at Michael’s chest. A shadow darted in its path, disintegrating before another took its place at Michael’s side. They swam around him, a cyclone of winding smoke.
“Have you told them why you left?” Michael addressed the other Rogues. “Has he told you how he ran like a fucking coward?”
“You’re the only coward here,” Andre growled.
Michael glared back. “I’m not the one who’s given up.” He spotted Stassi who was crouched behind Domingo. “You’ve had her all this time and where’s your Dreamer, Andre? Where’s your Dreamer, Shay? Useless. Both of you. I never stopped searching and I found someone who knows how to get Darina back. And once I bring him the one he wants—”
“You won’t touch her,” Domingo shouted. “I’ll kill you first.”
Michael smiled and one of the shadows leapt straight for Domingo, cutting through him until he was folded in pain. Andre caught the shadow in his vortex, destroying it, but Domingo’s lashes were already dripping with ice, his skin flushed blue.
“Not if I kill you first,” Michael said.
The flames raged higher, Michael’s scowling face nothing but a flicker between the burn of red and blue. The shadows rose up, and all I could see were Andre and Lathan’s outstretched hands, flashes of light beneath the smoke.
I dug my fingers in the dirt, remembering Adham and the dim glow he’d led towards Cole’s window. I held tight to the ground, just breathing, concentrating. With each inhale I reached, everything inside me pushing up and out. I could feel it seeping out of me—the cold, the heat. I could feel myself stretching into infinity. The night was clouded now, my light swirling along the ground, twisting around Shay and Felix’s ankles until they were glowing too.
Michael saw it reaching for him, the light snakelike and poised to strike. He vanished just as the shadows shrunk, thrashing like beached fish as the light chased after them. The fire dulled, caught in the net I’d tossed out, and then there was nothing but smoke.
Shay looked up first, Andre running over to us. Stassi and Domingo followed, Lathan taking tentative steps behind them. He was watching me, all of them were.
“What the hell was that?” Andre said.
Lathan cocked his head, repeating Michael’s words that had haunted me since coming home from Germany. “I think the real question is what the hell are you?”
48
Bryn
When the smell of cinnamon rolls crept beneath my bedroom door I had one millisecond of forgetting—that I hadn’t slept in this bed in months; that if I hadn’t woken up I never would have again.
I crept into the kitchen, the floorboards cold and making me flinch all the way to my knees. Walking still felt like a whole new kind of waking up but it also felt good to be in control of something. My mom saw me shivering and peeled off her robe, tugging it over my shoulders. She was wearing an old high school sweatshirt and navy blue pajama bottoms but they didn’t hide a thing.
“Two or three?” she asked.
I hadn’t eaten much since I’d left the hospital. They’d told me to take it slow, building up my strength with high calorie protein bars, shakes, and plenty of fluids. But I was starving. I had been for months. “Four.”
“So, now that you’re home I’ve been thinking about your birthday.”
The word struck me like something lost or false or tragic. I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday. I didn’t want to celebrate anything at all. I looked down at the scar where the razor had cut deep into my skin. It was the first wound that had followed me into the real world after waking and once I turned eighteen it wouldn’t be the last.
“It’s just a little more than a week away and I was thinking that maybe we could—”
“No.”
“Well, you haven’t even heard—”
“I don’t want to do anything.”
Her lips drew into a straight line. “Wh
y not?”
“I just don’t feel like making a big deal about it right now. I’m sick of being the center of attention.”
“But…” her voice cracked, “it’s your birthday.” She cleared her throat, forced a smile again. “We’re doing something. We’ll go to dinner or we can cook here. Homemade pizzas or burgers and we can watch home movies and make ice cream and—”
“Jesus! Why aren’t you hearing me?” I shoved the plate of cinnamon rolls, glass grating across the table. “I don’t want to celebrate my birthday. I almost just died. I was dying!”
She crossed her arms. “Which is all the more reason to celebrate it, Bryn.”
“No, it’s all the more reason to stop lying to ourselves.”
“About what?”
“That we’re okay.” I looked down. “That you’re okay.”
“Bryn, I’m—”
“You’re not and you haven’t been for a long time. I’m just…I’m sick of you pretending. I’m sick of watching you deteriorate and you not saying a word. It hurts me. It hurts me to see you giving up.”
“I’ve never given up on you.”
“Not me,” I said. “You. It’s been months and you still haven’t asked uncle Brian to move in. You’re still just as stubborn and scared as you’ve always been. He could take care of you, you know. He could help you.”
“I look after you, Bryn. I take care of you and that’s all that matters.”
“Yeah, well, who’s going to take care of me when you’ve finally wrung yourself dry?” When you’ve killed yourself…
Her face twisted, the tears coming so fast that I knew she’d been fighting them for weeks. But I couldn’t stay and watch. I couldn’t look at what I’d done. I stormed back to my room and slammed the door.
Half an hour later I heard her leaving for work, my grandmother just getting up and rummaging around in the kitchen. She put on a pot of coffee, the sound drawing me out.
“I heard yelling this morning,” she said, her back to me.
“Sorry.”
“Did you tell your mother that?”
I shook my head.
“You’re too hard on her.”
I folded my arms. “I could say the same thing about you.”
She took a sip of her coffee, sighing as she sat across from me. “Not like you are. I know my daughter and it’s not my snarky comments or sarcasm that hurts her. What really hurts her is the fact that she is a constant disappointment to you.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? You think she hides her emotions but the truth is she wears them on her sleeve and you hate that about her.”
“I don’t hate her.”
“Not her. You hate that she’s not as strong as you are.”
I looked down.
“But you’ve had to be and for that reason you hide a lot too. You both keep secrets. Some bigger than others.”
“I can’t tell her about me.”
“Why? Because you think she can’t handle it?”
“She couldn’t.”
“Maybe not but don’t you think she might hide things from you for the same reason? Because she doesn’t want to overwhelm you? Because she doesn’t want to hurt you?”
“But it’s…it’s making her sick.”
“Secrets do that. But you know what else is just as painful?”
“What?”
“Love. And she loves you more than anything, Bryn. You love her too. It’s why you lie to each other.” My grandmother stood, about to carry her coffee back to her room.
“I don’t know what to do,” I said.
“Apologize.”
“But should I tell her the truth? About me? About all of it?”
“It’s up to you.” She kissed me on the head, winked. “You’ve always been the good one, Bryn. You’ll figure out what to do.”
Back in my room I noticed someone on the other side of the window—knuckles cracking, legs bobbing up and down. I could tell it was Roman by the nerves. I threw back the curtain, his smile forced as I let him inside.
“Sorry, it’s early,” he said.
“I’ve been up for a while.”
There was a lull, both of us staring at our hands, trying not to think about last night—when I’d thought I was dreaming, when just his touch had sent me back there. Part of me wanted to touch him now but I stopped myself. From the look on his face, I could tell he had too.
“Did you…sleep okay?” His hands were in his pockets, his back to the wall. As far away from me as possible.
I thought about closing the distance, took a step back instead. “Okay…” I hugged my waist. “Have you slept?”
“No. We met Lathan last night and we’ve been trying to come up with a strategy all morning.”
“How did it go?” I asked.
“Michael showed up.” Roman’s skin let off the faintest glow. “Asshole basically tried to kill us all and kidnap Stassi.”
“Stassi…is she okay?”
“She’s fine.”
Michael had tried to take Stassi in Germany but that was before Anso knew I was the one he was looking for. If the shadows were controlling Michael, wouldn’t he know that Anso was looking for me too? And if he was suddenly in the States wouldn’t he try to find me himself?
“Do you really think he came all this way for her?”
“That and to get revenge. He said some things to Lathan last night…called him a coward. Seems like they’ve got some unfinished business.”
“Where are the others?”
“Sleeping back at the hotel. Felix went home too. Not sure if he’s sleeping though. He seemed pretty shaken up after what happened. The others are going to lay low today and try to figure out what to do next.”
“We’ll have to split up.” I sat in front of my laptop, flipping through my notes as it blinked to life. “We’ll cover more ground that way.”
“Do you really think you should leave right now?”
I looked up, dropping my pen over the list of Dreamers. I didn’t want to leave but…“We don’t have a choice.”
“We do have a choice.”
“We don’t.” I stood, walking from one end of the room to the other.
“Bryn…”
I collapsed on the bed, staring at the floor until Roman found the courage to sit next to me. “In the dream…” I took a deep breath, “when I reached out and touched that girl, it wasn’t just a split second of contact. It felt like centuries. I saw other Dreamers, I saw myself. She said that I was different.”
“How?” he asked.
“I’m whole somehow while they’re not. I’m stronger.”
His face fell. He knew I was telling the truth. “And me?”
“You’ve always known you were stronger.”
He hung his head, lost in whatever thoughts were embattled there. “Not as strong as you.”
I shoved my fear as deep as it would go and took Roman’s face in my hands. “I know who you are, Roman, and you’re mine for a reason.”
He buried his face in my neck, his carefulness replaced by desperation. He hugged me and I held him tight. The memories were still there but they weren’t stronger than this. Than us.
“Will you help me?” I asked.
He pulled back, just far enough to see my eyes. “Yes.”
“Good.” I let out a deep breath. “But there’s something we have to do first.”
My aunt let us inside before leaving for work. Dani’s door was closed, the lights off. I knocked, not a sound escaping on the other side. I knocked again and finally heard the shuffle of blankets, of socks on carpet. The knob turned.
“Mom, I told—” Dani stopped, stunned.
I forced my way inside. “Where the hell have you been?”
She turned away, her face buried in her hands.
“Dani, just look at me.”
She grew still. “You mean they didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
She
turned, revealing the face I remembered, the face I’d seen just before disappearing. Her skin looked ashen and sick. “That I tried to kill you. That thing…it’s still inside me.”
I inched back, but when she shrunk, I just wanted to reach for her. Even though I could see it, in her eyes and in her skin. There was something rotten inside her.
“Dani…” I tried to tell her that I didn’t care, that I wasn’t afraid of her. But it would have been a lie.
She scratched at her scalp, the skin there raw like she’d been ripping her hair out. “I tried to take you out of the hospital. Bryn, I tried to hurt you.”
“Do you remember why?” I asked.
She doubled over. “I don’t remember. All I know is that when I saw you I felt like…like I wanted to…” she met my eyes, “hurt you.” Her own glazed over, full of panic. “You have to go.”
“I’m not leaving, Dani.”
She shoved me towards the door. “Just go!”
Dani’s arms fell limp before Roman could peel them off of me. I stepped past him, toe to toe with her. I tried to coax out the monster, but when it finally showed itself, it wasn’t the only thing staring back at me. Beneath the rage and the hunger, I found her, still fighting, still in there. Dani. My flesh and blood.
“We’re going to fix this, Dani.” She started crying again and I wrapped my arms around her. “I’m going to fix this.”
We left Felix alone with her while Roman and I went back to find my grandmother. Dani had been in hiding too long, the shadow too strong, and I didn’t know who else to turn to.
I pushed through the front door, the television on in front of an empty couch. I searched her room before knocking on the bathroom door. Empty. So was the kitchen and the laundry room and the garage. I slammed into Roman on my way to the backyard, his arms latching around me.
“What is—?”
“Don’t.”
I tried to take another step, confused, but he wouldn’t let go of me. “Roman?”
He gripped the back of my head. “Bryn, please.”
The Girl In Between series: Books 1-4 Page 87