Hidden Realms

by Unknown

  “And you are?”

  “A friend.”

  The caution on her face was blatant. “Well, I’m sorry, but she already has visitors and only two people are allowed to see a patient at a time.”

  “I won’t be in the way. Please, I just want to check on her.”

  She glanced to the police officer by the doors and then back to me. “I told you. No more than two visitors at a time. Now, if you want to wait, I’ll need to see some identification. Otherwise…”

  Her eyebrow raised pointedly.

  I looked back at the cop. Identification was out of the question and waiting wouldn’t do any good. The girl could be dying. I only needed a few uninterrupted seconds to maybe change that.

  Slowly, I let out a breath. There was one way. It was illegal. And wrong. But if I only used a little, the woman would most likely be fine and recover long before anything turned life-threatening.

  And I could really be running out of time.

  Trying not to feel like a bastard, I turned back to her and smiled. “Listen,” I glanced down at her name tag. “Becky? I, um…”

  I reached out fast, taking her hand. Her brow drew down in alarm and she jerked back, attempting to pull away, but the small twist of magic had already touched her skin.

  Her expression flickered with confusion, and then melted into the sort of adoration that only the truly sick among us dehaians would enjoy.

  I made myself keep smiling as I let the magic carry through my voice as well. “I need to get in there. Can you open the door?”

  She frowned, still fighting it, and then her head twitched in a nod. Her hand fumbled for the button, and the doors swung back to let me through.

  “Thank you,” I said, feeling nauseated.

  The police officer watched me as I walked past. A desk formed the corner of two adjoining halls ahead, and beside it, I could see the girl from the store and another woman, both of them talking anxiously to a doctor. Curtains enclosed the space behind them, though a second later, a nurse pushed the fabric aside to carry out a tray, revealing the girl lying on a bed.

  I hesitated. I could feel the police officer’s gaze still on my back, and if I headed straight for her, he’d be certain to stop me. But another curtained area was not too far away, and through a gap in the fabric, I could see that it was empty.

  Trying to look purposeful, I marched inside. A few heartbeats passed, and then I leaned my head out again.

  The cop had turned back toward the waiting room, and the doors were swinging closed behind him. I looked to the women and the doctor. He was taking them to a lighted wall panel farther down the adjoining corridor, where transparent black sheets showed side views of a human skull.

  I strode down the hall and slid into the curtained space holding the girl.

  She looked like hell. Tubes ran from her nose and arms to plastic bags on wheeled poles and beeping machines on the wall. Beneath the bandages wrapping her head, one side of her face was puffy, the skin blue and purple and red in turns, and the other side bore a vicious gash surrounded by swelling of its own.

  I couldn’t keep myself from staring as I crossed to her bedside. It didn’t make sense. She electrocuted the water, yes. She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever seen, dehaian or otherwise.

  But why would someone do this to her?

  Exhaling sharply, I forced myself to focus. Reaching into my bag, I tugged out the container of sieranchine and then thumbed the lid from its top. With a quick glance to the curtain enclosing us, I pulled a shirt out as well. Covering my fingers with the fabric, I scooped the shimmering gel out before setting the container on the wheeled stand nearby. Turning her arm over gently, I wiped the wet shirt across the inside of her arm, testing her reaction.

  Her skin glistened, gaining a hint of golden iridescence that faded almost as quickly as it had come.

  But she didn’t go into shock or show any sign of a negative response.

  I doused the shirt with medicine again and swiped it across her face and neck and every bit of uncovered skin I could reach.

  She stirred on the bed with a soft sigh.

  I stepped away and shoved the t-shirt and container back into my bag. My skin tingled as a bit of the sieranchine touched it, and hastily, I wiped my hand on my shirt. I’d probably end up with a killer headache just from that contact – strong really was an understatement for that stuff – but that was a problem for later.

  Her bruises were already diminishing. The gash on her cheek seemed less red, and the swelling appeared to be going down.

  I let out a breath and then glanced to the curtain again. She’d be alright. I’d still get answers to all my questions – eventually, anyway – and she’d be alright.

  Now for getting out of here.

  Cautiously, I peered around the edge of the curtain. By the lighted panel, the women and the doctor still discussed something. Slipping across the adjoining hall, I walked quickly back toward the waiting area and past the cop, heading for the exit.

  Across the room, the doors to the outside opened. An ambulance sat in the driveway, its lights flashing, while doctors rushed by the sliding door, a stretcher with an old man on it between them and a dozen other people trailing behind.

  All of whom were now blocking my path.

  “H-hey wait,” Becky called to me from the reception desk, her voice vague with confusion. “You weren’t… you shouldn’t have been…”

  My heart hit my throat and I made a sharp turn for the hall that I’d taken through the hospital a few minutes before. I’d really held back earlier. The effects were wearing off faster than I’d expected.

  Which meant Becky would be fine and that was great.

  Except now she was calling out to the cop.

  I rounded the corner, barely keeping from running as I retraced my steps to the main exit. I hadn’t seen any police near the hospital entrance, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t call any to come stop me. I’d just been in the water, and thus could probably handle even two or three weeks out of it, but that wouldn’t fix all the other issues being taken into custody would create.

  There had to be another way out of here.

  I strode down the hall, cursing the hospital maze.

  “Hey you!”

  I didn’t look back. Through a glass door ahead, I could see daylight and I hurried toward it. Footsteps pounded down the hall behind me. I shoved the crossbar on the door and rushed out into the fresh air.

  And then I ran.

  I could hear the cop shouting, first at me and then into his radio, but I’d already reached the corner. Veering around the turn, I took off down the next street. Intersections appeared and fell behind me in rapid succession, and people stumbled away in surprise as I sped by. Over the whistle of the wind in my ears, I listened for sirens, grateful not to hear any until I’d finally reached the road opposite the beach.

  And by then, it was really too late for them.

  I dashed across the sand and into the water, leaving Santa Lucina behind.

  Chapter Nine

  Chloe

  I woke to the sound of beeping and the feeling of way too many pillows under my back. The smell of antiseptic stung my nose and the air had a strange dryness that I couldn’t place. Wincing at the glare of sunlight, I opened my eyes.

  Medical equipment stood next to me, and I was lying on a bed surrounded by metal rails. Baylie was curled in an armchair nearby, her face red as though she’d been crying, while Diane sat near her, one hand rubbing Baylie’s shoulder. On the far side of the room, Noah and his dad were talking with a gray-haired doctor.

  My brow furrowed in confusion. I’d been at the bookstore. We’d gone to see Maddox. I’d walked back to check out the books and …

  I looked back at the doctor.

  “–amazing improvement, considering her earlier condition,” he was saying in a low voice. “If she wakes up soon, we should–”

  “Hey,” Baylie interrupted, catching sight of me. She shoved away
from the armchair and hurried to the bedside, relief clear on her face.

  Noah and the others turned around. Stepping past them, the doctor came over.

  “Hello,” he said. “My name is Doctor Michaelson. How are you feeling?”

  I hesitated. “My head hurts.”

  He nodded understandingly. “You had a bit of an accident. Your head was hit. I’d like to ask you a few questions, though, just to test how your memory is doing. Is that alright?”

  Behind him, I saw Noah look away, muscles working beneath his jaw, while Diane had entangled her fingers so tightly together, her knuckles were white.

  “Okay…” I allowed.

  “Could you tell me your full name?”

  “Chloe Marie Kowalski.”

  He smiled. “When’s your birthday, Chloe?”

  “August twelfth.”

  “Just in time for school, eh?”

  “Yeah.”

  His smile remained. “Now, what can you tell me about what happened to you, Chloe? What do you remember?”

  I paused. We’d been at the bookstore. I’d been walking around, one of the employees had asked if I needed anything, and…

  I drew a sharp breath. Something had happened. Something bad.

  Shaking my head, I shied away from the memory. “I-I don’t…”

  “It’s okay,” the doctor interjected. He glanced back at the others. “It might start coming back in a bit. Don’t push it.”

  I swallowed. Everyone else looked worried. Or angry. Really, really angry.

  “What happened?” I pressed.

  They all looked to the doctor. He hesitated a moment, and then nodded.

  “One of the store employees went psycho,” Noah said, his voice nearly a growl. His father put a hand to his shoulder, and Noah gritted his teeth, looking away.

  “He attacked you,” Baylie supplied, sounding choked. “He just–”

  “The police think he was one of the people involved in those kidnappings,” Diane continued for her. “And since you… well, honey, you look a bit like the other girls who are missing. The police think he must’ve believed he had the opportunity to take you too. But now that they know who he is, they’re searching his house, and they have people looking for him everywhere. He won’t get away.”

  I stared at her.

  “That’s probably enough for now,” the doctor said. “You’re safe here, Chloe. That’s the important thing. So now I just want you to focus on getting well.”

  Feeling like he was nuts, I didn’t say anything. Someone had attacked me? And now I was supposed to forget that?

  He’d grabbed my mouth.

  The memory flashed through my head, vivid and clear.

  He’d put his arm around my chest and dragged me up from the ground. I hadn’t been able to fight him. I’d wanted to; he’d just been so strong.

  So incredibly strong.

  “Chloe,” the doctor said.

  I blinked, my heart racing as I looked back at him.

  “You’re safe.”

  Swallowing, I nodded.

  He gave me an understanding smile. “Your friends are going to stay here with you, alright? And if you keep doing this well, we’ll have you home in a few days.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  He patted my arm and then headed for the door. Peter followed him out.

  Diane came over to the bed. “Get some sleep, honey. You’re doing really well, but the doctor says sleep could help you more than anything.”

  I glanced from her to Baylie and Noah. “They didn’t catch him?”

  Diane hesitated. “They will. But the doctor’s right. We’re all going to be here. He won’t get near you again.” She put a hand to my shoulder. “Just sleep.”

  My brow furrowed, but I turned my face toward the pillow, trying to do as she asked. Truth was, though, I wasn’t tired. Not really. Instead, I just felt tingly, like between all the medicines the doctors had probably given me, I could almost feel my body fixing itself.

  And I didn’t want to close my eyes anyway.

  I watched the window. The others wouldn’t let him near me. I knew that. I hated relying on them for protection, hated being this scared, but I knew they’d keep me safe.

  Though it wasn’t like any of us could have known the guy was somebody to fear.

  I drew a breath, working to stay calm like everyone had ordered.

  He’d just looked so ordinary. Awkward and pale, maybe, like a frail bookworm who spent more time reading than he did with girls or out in the sun. But mostly, he’d just seemed like a normal guy.

  And when he’d grabbed me, he’d been anything but. Strong. So stupidly strong, with his face twisted like he’d hated me with everything in his being. And his eyes…

  I shivered, the memory coming back.

  They’d changed. Not at first, but as he grabbed me, the watery color had transformed.

  Into brilliant, glowing blue.

  Just like the boy from the ocean.

  ~~~~~

  I climbed from the car into the late afternoon sunlight, and tried to ignore the way everyone watched me to see if I’d fall. It’d been three days since I’d ended up in the hospital, and finally Doctor Michaelson had given his okay for me to go home.

  It couldn’t have come too soon. I appreciated all that the hospital staff had done and everything, but if I had to spend one more minute being watched and checked and worried over, I thought I’d lose my mind.

  Though everyone here was still doing that.

  Shutting the door behind me, I headed for the house. Whatever damage the bookstore guy – Maddox told us his name was Jesse, though from the way he said the man’s name now, he made it sound like a curse – had done to me seemed to have healed. I wasn’t dizzy and my head only occasionally ached. For all intents and purposes, I was fine.

  Which the doctor thought was incredible.

  And I didn’t care.

  Jesse had hit me really hard, it was true, and the bookshelves had as well. There’d been a lot of blood, or so I gathered from the looks on Baylie and Noah’s faces whenever the topic of the stitches on my forehead came up, and some kind of swelling that’d since disappeared. But now I was fine. My trip to Santa Lucina had been filled with nothing but drama – loads and loads of drama – but now… now I was fine.

  And I’d keep anything else weird from happening if I had to lock myself in the guest room.

  Fighting off a scowl at the thought, I followed Peter inside. Diane and Baylie hovered near me, worry practically radiating from them, while Noah trailed after us, one hand on his cell phone as he conferred with Maddox, who’d been covering shifts at the bookstore since Jesse disappeared. I hoped we’d just be able to have a quiet evening, doing nothing if at all possible. I wanted one day of normalcy in this place. It’d give me something nice to remember, compared to everything else.

  Especially since my parents could show up at any time.

  The scowl tried to return. Dad left a message with the Delaneys the day before, saying nothing beyond the fact they would be back soon. He gave no reason for what had taken them so long, though given that they hadn’t looked good the last time I’d seen them, it worried me. But meanwhile, they were apparently on their way.

  And so I waited.

  “Go ahead and have a seat in the living room,” Diane said to me as the front door closed. “Would you like some iced tea?”

  “That’s okay. Thank you, though. I’m just going to go upstairs, if that’s alright?”

  She looked worried.

  I gave her something approaching a smile and then headed to the second floor, working to ignore the concern that followed me like a cloud. I didn’t want to leave when my parents came back – the panicked, fishhook feeling returned at the thought – but staying here was starting to become just as uncomfortable.

  The guest room was blessedly quiet. Sinking onto the bed, I looked to the window, watching the blue water and the equally blue horizon.

&nb
sp; “Hey.”

  I turned. By the door, Baylie stood, watching me nervously.

  “Hey,” I replied, feeling guilty for the way I wanted to grimace at her expression.

  “You alright?” she pressed.

  A bit of the grimace slipped through.

  She winced. “Sorry.”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She hesitated, and then crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to mine.

  “I just…” She glanced to the open doorway. “I feel so bad about what happened.”

  My brow furrowed.

  “I was the one who insisted we go,” she explained, a touch desperately. “I knew those girls were missing and I should have thought–”

  “What? That the psycho who kidnapped them worked at the bookstore?”

  She looked pained.

  “Baylie, seriously. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Footsteps in the hall made me turn. Noah paused outside the door, looking between us with concern.

  “You guys doing okay?”

  “Fine,” I said, struggling to keep from snapping simply because I was tired of the question. “Baylie and I were… talking.”

  I wasn’t sure what else to tell him. I didn’t want to embarrass her.

  For a moment, Noah studied Baylie, and something in his expression made me think he guessed what the conversation had been about anyway.

  “She tell you about the pepper spray?” he asked me.

  Confused, I shook my head.

  He lifted an eyebrow at his stepsister. Baylie grimaced.

  “She was the first to see what the guy was doing,” Noah explained when she didn’t say anything. “She pepper-sprayed him. Made him let you go.”

  The memory came back. “I heard someone scream.”

  Noah nodded. “You need to stop blaming yourself,” he told Baylie.

  She looked down.

  “Baylie,” I said. “Please? It’s not your fault.” I paused. “You probably saved my life.”

  She swallowed, her face taking on the same green cast I’d seen for days, whenever she or the others thought back on what things must have looked like in the bookstore.