The Girl In Between series: Books 1-4

by Laekan Zea Kemp

  He squeezed her hand. “I’ve seen it.”

  She fell against his touch, his words delivering a blow that almost sent her to the ground.

  While Rodrigo’s words filled Valentina with holes, Roman hung on them—his fears, his hopes. He sat forward, ignoring the way she was falling apart. “You’ve seen what?” he asked Rodrigo.

  “Her.” He was looking at me again.

  “In a dream?” I asked.

  I was growing impatient too. I needed to know if the me he’d seen was the same as the me now. If she was better or worse. If she was alive.

  He nodded.

  “What else…” I hesitated. “What else do you dream about?”

  I noticed that Valentina wasn’t moving. She was fixed, panic or anger pinning her gaze to the floor. She was barely breathing, whatever was racing through her head turning her reflexes to stone.

  “When I woke up in chains I was already bleeding. There were pools of it. That was back when their greed was too strong and their patience too weak. They didn’t understand that pain could only ignite tears until I was numb.”

  “Tears?” Roman asked.

  “My captors used me to heal the sick. But not through touch.”

  I could tell by the strain on Valentina’s face that she wanted to tell Rodrigo to stop but she couldn’t.

  He peeled his shirt back, deep lashes rippling across his skin. She shuddered, just as pale.

  “They’re a powerful elixir. One drop can bring someone back from the brink of death. More than one drop…” He hesitated. “I never revealed that much to Anso. I couldn’t risk it knowing you were still out there. The truth is, my gift is not meant to cure the sick.” He met my eyes. “It’s meant to cure the dead.”

  Roman’s grip on me tightened and so did the air in my lungs. I hadn’t realized he’d been holding onto me. I hadn’t realized I’d been hanging on him too.

  I didn’t feel myself let go. Or stand. Or leave. But suddenly my feet were tangled in leaves and there was nothing in front of me but trees and snow. I sunk into the cold, letting it wrap around me until it was all I could feel. But the winter against my skin was false. So was the burning wind against my cheeks and the stiffness in my fingers and Roman’s breath on the back of my neck. Trapped in this memory of my body, nothing that touched me was real. Nothing I touched was either.

  Roman moved to stand in front of me. Face to face I could see how Rodrigo’s words had left him raw. His mouth quavered but instead of trying to convince me of anything he wrapped his arms around me. He held me so tight that I felt the moment his breaths began to shudder, the relief trapped inside his bones and threatening to break them into pieces.

  “Do you love me?” He pressed his nose to mine and suddenly there was nothing in his eyes but fear. “I need to know, Bryn. Because if you do nothing else matters. Not who we are now or what we’ve done. Nothing matters but us.”

  “I want you,” I said, more sure of those three words than I was of anything else I’d ever said or felt.

  He looked down, letting the tears fall. “Do you want to live?”

  My heart stuttered, another memory of my body. I imagined Roman holding it instead. I imagined it feeling him the way I used to. In every bone. In every cell.

  I buried my face in Roman’s neck, afraid to admit that he hadn’t been the only one hoping for a miracle. “Yes.”

  Roman pulled me to him, so hard I thought I’d break, that we both would. But not from the force. From the closeness. He had no idea how badly I’d needed it in that moment, but from the way he clung to me, I knew he needed it too. That he had for a long time.

  I pulled away, just far enough to see his face. “Do you really think it will work?”

  “You’re a miracle, Bryn. You always have been.”

  “Even now?”

  Roman held my face. “Always.”

  I eased back, letting him see my worry. “Do you think she’ll still be in there?” My throat clenched. “Even if Rodrigo can somehow save my body, do you think this darkness will always be inside me?”

  Roman’s gaze fell and I knew he was thinking of his own darkness. “Maybe it always has been. In all of us.”

  “Does it scare you?” I asked.

  “Sometimes,” he said. “Does it scare you?”

  I didn’t have to think. “Yes.”

  He exhaled. “Don’t let it.”

  “How?”

  He looked me in the eye. “You just live.”

  “Live.” I fell against him again, our lungs working together. “Well, if I do live with this, I’ll need someone to show me how.”

  52

  Felix

  The darkness twisted, slimming into arrows and expanding into a wide mouth, the shape pulsing in and out until I was dizzy.

  I backpedaled, slow. “No.”

  Adham stepped in front of me. “It doesn’t sound the same as before. Listen…”

  I gripped the back of my neck, trying to clear out the memory of the rain and the lightning and Dani screaming. I shook, the wound throbbing as if it knew what was coming.

  “Felix, listen.”

  I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t run.

  The buzz grew louder, the first wave of small bodies parting the leaves above our heads. They flitted down, swirling around us, so big they looked more like roaches. The mass grew closer, drawing down. But they weren’t locusts. Adham was right. The buzz wasn’t as strong or as wild, the flap of wings tighter as the sound zipped in and out.

  “Flies,” I coughed. “They’re flies.”

  The second fleet came sputtering down. We ducked, crawling deep into the trees. The branches heaved, the flies stopping short of the canopy and blotting out the moon. Adham lifted a hand, tracing the light over our heads until it tangled in something like silk.

  The web spiraled out in the most magnificent shape, moonlight sparking against it like stars. And then it was covered in black. The squeal of the struggling flies was deafening as they rolled themselves into glistening white balls. Adham pointed between the leaves and I spotted the sacks hanging above our heads, the thick thread slumping and winding across the grass. Adham knelt, grazing a stray piece of web with his finger. It stuck, hanging from him like a snowflake.

  I walked in a slow circle, trying to count the webs. “How many are there?”

  Adham lit up, the glow spreading from his fingertips. The grass was covered in white, strands twisting up the trunks of the trees. In a sea of lace Adham’s flame glinted off something black. Something big.

  I took a step back, the web sucking at my shoes.

  The flames floating up from Adham’s skin grew another inch and then he said, “Just one.”

  Jaws snapped, the spider’s fangs the only thing visible in the dark. They were slick, flies hanging limp from the sharp points. I took another step back and slipped, my hands snagging on the web. I pulled one free and it was covered in tiny insects, some still moving, trying to crawl up my arm. I slapped them against my pant leg, gagging, wishing I could set myself on fire like Adham could.

  Before I could scrape the web from my skin, something soft swept the top of my head. I looked up, one of the spider’s knees bent over us both. That’s when I registered the cold. Adham’s flames were resolved to smoke, puffs of it escaping from his mouth as he tried to breathe.

  “Adham?”

  The spider hissed at the sound of my voice, it’s fangs inches from Adham’s face.

  I grimaced, treading closer until my voice was right behind Adham’s left ear. “Adham.”

  He was paralyzed, his skin flushed gold but barely putting off any heat. The spider snapped it’s jaws again and we both fell, Adham panting and gripping the webbing beneath us but still unable to ignite. I scrambled for my backpack and the spider pressed a leg to my chest, holding me down. I wrenched the flare free but then it shifted, leg swiping it out of my hands. I rolled onto my stomach, crawling through dead insects and smearing somethin
g warm that smelled like blood.

  I reached the flare and lit it. The glow washed over the web below me and beneath the strands of white there were faces. Hands. Bodies. They watched me with dead eyes and I choked down bile, my muscles too sick to move.

  Adham was half-buried, the spider’s body shielding him as it wound the web around his ankles, his calves, his knees. I crawled forward, flame held out in front of me. I pressed the fire to the first leg and the spider screamed, its panic dripping in a thick goo onto Adham’s face. The spider lifted its legs, frantic, and I rolled next to him before thrusting the flare straight into the spider’s mouth. It reared back on its hind legs, twitching and burning.

  I gripped Adham and then I slapped him as hard as I could. “Wake up!”

  He shook, trembling hands scrambling for something in his jacket pocket. He pulled out the flask Rafael had slipped him on the way out and then he tossed it into the flames.

  I flew back as light engulfed the trees. It raced in spirals across the spider web, the insects burning in strange colors as the spider wobbled, a giant ball of fire rolling from tree to tree. We scrambled back from the heat, Adham turning to watch it burn. He growled, his eyes stoking the flames until they looked like they were scraping the bottom of the moon.

  A tree fell, singeing me with ashes and I raced for higher ground. Adham followed, the smoke so thick we could barely see more than a foot in front of us. Suddenly, the dirt beneath us hardened, a strange design edging out of the sand. We fanned the smoke, Adham forcing his light through the darkness.

  We stopped, back to back as we stared up at the balconies and tiled walls. One was engraved with the name of the hotel Oswald was staying at. Four glass elevators hung on tracks. Empty. The whole place was empty.

  “I don’t like this whole being moved by something bigger and scarier that we can’t see thing,” I said.

  “Do you think he’s still here?” Adham asked.

  I turned in a circle, searching for the main entrance of the hotel. The smoke was gone and the doors were intact. Maybe Oswald was too.

  “He should be on the second floor,” I said, pointing to the stairs. “I guess we’ll find out.”

  Every time we turned a corner I waited for another monster to try to rip my head off or eat me or paralyze Adham with fear.

  “So, that was yours?” I finally asked, the path to Oswald’s room stretching with each step. The hallways were endless. It felt like we were in a maze.

  “One of them,” Adham said. “My parents used to take my siblings and I to India every summer to visit my grandparents. They lived on a farm and more than once I woke up with a tarantula in my bed.”

  “Yikes.” I bristled. “Wait,” I said, remembering the spider’s fangs and how they’d almost cut Adham in half. “I thought tarantulas don’t bite.”

  “In my nightmares they do.” Adham nudged me. “Thanks for not letting me get eaten.”

  “Thanks for not letting me get zombified or cored by horse flies.”

  “Like I would really want to face Dani’s wrath.”

  “Yeah, in the race for scariest monster we’ve seen, she’d definitely win.”

  Adham walked a little slower. “It’s only because she loves you. That’s a good thing.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I knew Adham was thinking about Cole. He was always analyzing everyone else’s relationships, comparing them to the one they didn’t have. “He won’t say it but Cole’s probably worried about you right now too.”

  Adham didn’t respond. We rounded another corner, the 200s starting over. For the second time.

  “Haven’t we been this way?” I said.

  Adham tapped the number 203 on one of the doors. “If they’re in descending order then 214 should be that way.” He pointed to our left.

  The door Adham was leaning against fell open. Adham stumbled back as the woman reached for him. She was covered in blood.

  “Oh, shit!”

  We ran straight down the corridor, hanging a left towards the door marked stairwell. When we realized there were no stairs we kept running.

  “How the hell do we get out of here?” I called over my shoulder.

  My vision snapped to black, the sound of the power grinding down making the hairs on my arms stand on end. We felt for the walls, catching our breath as we searched the darkness. My fingers grazed a doorknob and Adham lifted a glowing finger, tracing the light over the gold numbers. 214.

  We exchanged a look and then Adham snapped the handle, pushing the door open. The room smelled like old takeout and sweat. Beneath our footsteps I could hear someone breathing or maybe whimpering.

  The door fell closed and Adham filled the room with light. Oswald sat in the corner, knees tucked to his chin. Shaking. Holding a gun to his head.

  A long dark form stood over him, whispering words I couldn’t make out. Adham approached, his fists raised. The darkness turned in our direction. It was wearing Roman’s face.

  “Get away from him.” Adham’s voice was cool but I could tell by his expression that he was boiling.

  Roman’s doppelganger cocked his head. “But he’s been looking for me.”

  “You stay away from Oswald.” Adham shook. “You stay away from Roman.”

  The darkness smiled. “Roman…” He took a step toward Adham, turning his back on Oswald. “You don’t understand.” His smile softened, almost sad. “It’s him who can’t stay away from me.”

  Adham thrust a fist straight into the billowing black, igniting the shadow from the inside. It disintegrated, the ashes falling on Oswald’s arms and legs. I hadn’t noticed before that he was in his underwear.

  Oswald looked up. “You.” He pressed himself to the wall. “This was all a trap.” He pointed the gun and in half a second Adham wrenched it from his fist. Oswald shrunk, shaking. “I’m not going with you.”

  A scream echoed down the hall. Maybe from the woman we’d seen earlier…or the thing whose blood she was covered in.

  “Fine,” I shrugged. “Good luck getting out alive.”

  Adham followed my lead to the door. Another scream rang out, this one deeper, more animal.

  Oswald scrambled to his feet.

  “That’s what I thought.” I chucked the bag on the bed in his direction. “Now put some clothes on.”

  53

  Bryn

  I’d hardly heard her footsteps through the snow but face-to-face I knew she was Lathan’s. Cora waited for Roman and I to pull apart before she reached for me next. I took a step back and her face fell.

  “I know what will happen.” She glanced back towards the cabin, everyone framed within the kitchen window as they sat around the table. “I know that my body is dead and that if you touch me there will be no going back.” Her breath caught. “But I have to do it before he tries to stop me. He wants to. He wants to keep me in this dream but I can’t take it.” She reached out a hand but I didn’t reach back. “Please.”

  I watched the window, waiting for Lathan to look, to run out here and stop her. Cora’s hand finally dropped and I reached for Lathan instead, ready to pull his gaze. It was cowardly and only wasting time—Cora was only giving me the surrender I wished I’d gotten from every other Dreamer—but I couldn’t stop thinking about the things Valentina had said. She’d been right. I had stolen Roman’s chance to say goodbye…and so much more. How could I help Cora take the same thing from Lathan?

  Lathan twitched, sensing my invisible grip on him. I was just about to force him to turn when Cora began to sob.

  The sound loosened my hold. “What about saying goodbye?”

  She was quiet for a long time and then, “I can’t.”

  “That’s not fair to Lathan,” Roman said.

  “Or to you.” I let myself imagine what it might have been like to reach the end alone, to stand on the edge of that bed, on the precipice of death with no one there to see me go, to beg me to stop. It was the loneliest feeling in the world.

  Suddenly, the
thoughts in my head started running together, streaking and bleeding like wet paint. Cora’s face began to blur too. I could barely make out her lips moving and then all I could see were the shadows of my lashes. Her face came in flashes. I sunk to my knees.

  “Bryn.” I felt Roman’s hands, his voice ripping to shreds. I felt my name like a jolt but there were no words. No sounds.

  The shadows bled together until my vision was black. I shivered, fighting. And then I saw the forest, footsteps carving a path alongside the way we’d come.

  Get out of my head.

  Get out!

  I knew he could hear me. I knew he could feel me because I felt him too. He latched onto my insides, harnessing my memories. They carried him closer.

  Get her out of here.

  Roman. Get her inside. Go. Go now!

  I wasn’t sure if my thoughts were even making it to my lips. I was an animal trapped inside a cage, nothing visible between the bars but the boots of my hunter.

  Get out!

  “Have you already forgotten?” Sebastían’s voice struck every nerve, pain singing through me. “I told you once before. It’s not a choice. We’re in your head, Bryn. It’s all in your head.”

  “Bryn. Bryn, look at me.” Roman’s voice crept into the darkness and I climbed it like an escape rope. “Bryn, wake up. Bryn, please.” He yanked me back out.

  I blinked, strewn in the snow. Roman was on his feet, ablaze and blocking me from Sebastían’s view. But Sebastían wasn’t looking at me. He wasn’t reaching for me. His arms were wrapped around Cora, her body twitching with each breath as he summoned her dreams. I watched the last sparks leap from her skin and into his. Then she slipped from his grasp and he turned toward the cabin, toward Rodrigo’s face in the window.

  Lathan was looking too and then he was running for the door. But before he could barrel outside, I locked it shut, burning the wood to the frame. Every door. Every window. I trapped them inside and then I made them disappear. I gripped the soil, the weight of their escape almost crushing me to dust. I took a deep breath and then I sent Cora too, hurling them towards the safety of Celia’s clearing.