Endless (Shadowlands) (18 page)

By the time we got back to my house, the wind was so intense we had to cling to each other as we turned down Magnolia and staggered toward the gate. Dead leaves and flower petals scraped our faces, and a scrap of paper slapped against my leg, wrapping itself around my calf and staying there as I reached for the latch. The second I released it, the gate flew open, slamming back into the fence and cracking off its hinges. Tristan grabbed for it, but there was nothing he could do. It tumbled end-over-end down the street and crashed into the side of a neighboring house.

“Let’s get inside,” he said.

I nodded, and together we hunched forward, sprinting up the front walk. My hands shook as I unlocked the door, and Tristan clung to it so it wouldn’t meet the same fate as the gate. He pulled it closed behind us and turned the lock. Inside, I flicked on the first three lights I came to. Tristan followed and we met in the center of the living room, facing each other over the two-foot breadth of the wooden coffee table.

I felt queasy and nervous. An hour ago, Tristan had caught me kissing another guy—his best friend. And now here we were, alone. No matter what I said, it would never be enough. But I had to try.

“Tristan,” I began. “About Joaquin.”

He closed his eyes, as if the very sound of the name caused him pain, and held up one hand. “Don’t.”

“No, I want to explain,” I insisted.

A gust of wind hit the house so hard it moaned, then let out a series of loud snaps and crackles as ancient beams and floorboards resettled. I took a step around the side of the table and felt buoyed when Tristan didn’t move.

“I’m not going to stand here and say I don’t care about him, because I do.” I swallowed hard, gripping my fingers in front of me. “I wouldn’t have made it through the last week without him.”

Tristan stared at me, his face a complete blank.

“But the second I saw you again, the second I touched
you, I knew…it’s you. It’s always been you. With Joaquin,
it—”

“Stop,” Tristan said.

I froze in my tracks. I’d been inching toward him the whole time I was talking, and now I hovered just inches away, so close I could see the glint of the blond stubble beneath his jaw. My gaze flicked to his hands.

Reach for me
,
I willed him.
Please. Just—

“So you don’t want him. You don’t want to be with him?”

“No,” I said, closing the distance between us. “I want you.”

His jaw worked and his fingers clenched. I could see, could
feel
how hard it was for him to hold back. “Are you sure? You’d better be sure about this, Rory, because we’re going to be here forever, the three of us. If you change your mind…it would torture you—torture all of us—forever.”

I gazed into his blue eyes, my heart thrumming inside my chest. Slowly, carefully, gently, I reached out to touch my fingertips to his chest. “I want this. I want you. Forever.”

Tristan let out a shaky, relieved sigh. He ran both his hands over my head and down the long, tangled braid of my hair. “I am in love with you, Rory Miller,” he said, using my real name, which sent a thrill right through me. “All I want is to be with you.”

I smiled and realized that I was crying. “All I want is to be with you,” I replied.

“Just try to get rid of me,” Tristan said with a grin.

Then he leaned down to touch his lips to mine, and I felt the urgency of his kiss run through me, filling every inch of me, warming my body from head to toe with an insistent, throbbing heat. I pressed up against him, pouring every ounce of the fear and frustration, of the misunderstanding and longing I’d felt over the past two weeks into my kiss. I had missed him so much. I had wanted to believe in him so much. And now he was here and he was true and he was mine.

For that one infinitesimal second I didn’t care about Pete or Liam or the universe or the Shadowlands or anything other than this. Then our walkie-talkies suddenly let out a freakish peal, and Krista’s panicked voice filled our little cocoon.

“Mayday! Mayday! Emergency! Or whatever! Over!”

We both whirled around as erratic pounding sounded on the front door. Tristan darted for it. I fumbled for my radio, which was clipped to the side of my waistband, and pressed down on the red button.

“What is it, Krista? Over.”

“It’s the visitors! Over!”

The front door opened, and Krista stumbled inside, soaked to the bone.

“The visitors what?” I said, dropping the walkie-talkie on the floor. “What about them?”

Krista gulped, bracing one hand on the entryway table. “We have a situation,” she said. “The visitors have taken over the town square.”

Even knowing how overcrowded the island had become, nothing could have prepared me for the horde that greeted us when we reached the town square. The visitors covered every inch of the park, some standing on benches, others clumped around lampposts. People streamed out of the general store to join the throng, standing on their toes and craning their necks even in the driving rain, trying to see what was going on.

Up front, of course, were the Tses, standing near the stone rim around the swan fountain, holding court with a willing group of visitors. From this distance, I couldn’t hear them, but Sebastian gestured angrily with his hands, and a few members of his audience nodded, agreeing with whatever he was saying.

“Damn. This doesn’t look good.” Tristan stopped at the corner of Freesia Lane and the square, his face going pale.

Joaquin, Fisher, and Kevin skirted around the edge of the crowd, catching angry looks from a group of young men in ponchos as they jogged over to join us. Ursula and Chief Grantz slipped away from the grocery stand to gather behind us as well.

“Kevin!” Krista exclaimed. “You’re alive!”

“Yeah, I’m fine. When the fog came in and I lost Liam, I figured I’d head home to wait it out,” he said. “I must have fallen asleep. Sorry. Joaquin told me you guys were worried about me.”

“We’re just glad you’re okay,” Tristan said, clapping him on the shoulder.

A few other Lifers circumvented the park, sticking to the outer sidewalks, and joined us, everyone drawn to Tristan like moths to a flame. Lauren and Bea jogged over from the direction of the docks.

“Speaking of Liam,” Fisher said, “we have a problem.” He took a breath and held it for a second before delivering the news. “He’s gone.”

“Gone?” I exclaimed. “How?”

“Officer Dorn had my key. He left his post for five seconds when some visitors came into the station, demanding to make long-distance calls,” Grantz said. “When he got back down there, Liam was gone, and it was only then that he noticed the key was gone, too. Someone let him out. But of course Pete’s not talking, so…”

Tristan paced away from us, his fists shaking at his sides. His hair was slicked down across his forehead, and the rash guard he’d had on ever since we’d left the beach clung to his chest in the rain.

“Who the hell is doing this?” he demanded.

“I’d say at this point, that’s only one of our problems,” Fisher said, eyeing the crowd.

“Why don’t we just start ushering them?” Ursula suggested, lifting a tissue to her nose to cover a sneeze. “Some of them are ready to cross, and if we could thin out the crowd…”

“We can’t,” Joaquin told her. “We ran out of coins earlier. No one’s leaving here anytime soon.”

“Okay,” Tristan said, gathering himself. “First things first. We have to find Liam. Bea, Rory, you get twenty or so people together and fan out to search the island. He doesn’t know it as well as we do, so it shouldn’t take long to find him. Fisher and Kevin, get a dozen of our biggest guys and get up to the bridge. Whatever happens today, he’s not bringing any more innocent souls to the Shadowlands.”

“Don’t you want me here for crowd control?” Fisher asked, shoving his fist into his open palm.

“Dorn, Grantz, Joaquin, and I will handle it,” Tristan said. He looked over at the burgeoning mob, who let out a cheer at something Sebastian had just said. “I’m going to go talk to them.”

“What are you going to say?” Joaquin asked.

“I’ll figure it out. And if it doesn’t work, we could always try using the soothing power on them. Between the four of us, we should be able to subdue the worst of them. We’ll just infiltrate the park and start working the crowd.” Tristan glanced at Fisher and Bea. “We’re wasting time. Go!”

“We’re on it, T,” Fisher said. He lifted his dark hood over his head and led the others over to a line of waiting trucks and cars parked down one of the side streets, their headlights shining through the rain as their windshield wipers flapped frantically.

“This is my fault,” Krista said, shifting from foot to foot under the waterlogged awning. “I should have stayed at the station to relieve Dorn if he needed me. I was just so tired, and he told me to go home.…”

“Krista, it’s okay.” Tristan gripped her shoulder, and she stopped wavering. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

He looked up at me, a raindrop working its way down his cheek like a tear. “You didn’t want to go with Bea?”

“I’d rather stay close to you,” I said, glancing around warily as a pair of visitors slowly walked by, staring us down.

Tristan reached out and squeezed my hand. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Krista and I chorused.

He gave a nod to the men, and Grantz and Joaquin fell into step behind him as he crossed the street toward the park. Joaquin lifted his radio and told Dorn to join them. Krista grabbed my hand to tug me toward the police station. Its marble columns faced the back of the swan fountain, and as we climbed the steps I realized the brilliance of her plan. From here we would be dry under the station’s stone overhang and still see everything, including Tristan as he stepped up next to Sebastian.

“Rory?” Krista said, shivering next to me as Tristan put his hand on Sebastian’s back. “I’m scared.”

I nodded, my teeth chattering. “Me too.”

She squeezed my hand as Tristan hopped up onto the fountain’s edge so that he was a couple of heads above the crowd. He lifted both of his hands, trying to quiet the din. Suddenly the doors behind us burst open, and Dorn barreled out, rushing down the stairs to join Grantz and Joaquin at the fountain.

“Please, everyone!” Tristan called out. “Please, calm down.”

“Who the hell are you?” the large bearded man from the twins’ boarding house shouted.

“My name is Tristan Parrish,” he replied. “I’m the mayor’s son. And I’d be glad to answer your questions and hear your concerns.”

The crowd roared, everyone trying to speak at once. Sebastian and Selma exchanged a glance behind Tristan’s back.

“Now, you know I can’t understand any of you if everyone talks at the same time,” Tristan said with a casual, indulgent smile. “If you wouldn’t mind raising your hands, I can repeat your question for everyone to hear and then do my best to answer it.”

Three dozen hands shot into the air.

“He’s good,” I said under my breath.

“Yeah, but how good?” Krista asked, her knees knocking together beneath her white raincoat. She glanced back over her shoulder at the double doors to the station. “Um…Rory? Is anyone with Pete right now?”

My heart dropped into my toes. Someone had Grantz’s key. Whoever it was could be doubling back there right now to let Pete out, too.

“Let’s go.”

Krista grabbed my hand as we tore inside the police station, our sneakers squealing and squishing the whole way across the marble lobby. Together we ran down the hallway, and I yanked open the door. My lungs released a relieved sigh when I saw that Pete was still there, still sitting on the floor with his arms around his legs. A streak of dirt cut across one cheek, and his eyes looked bloodshot. He glanced up at us as we walked in, following Krista with his eyes as she slipped by me to perch on a stool in the far corner.

“Good. You’re still here,” I said.

“Where would I go?”

I froze at the sound of his voice, low and crackly and dry. This was the first time anyone had heard him speak since Thursday night. My pulse throbbed inside every inch of my skin. This was my chance. The chance I’d been waiting for. I dropped to my knees and gripped the bars in front of me. They were so cold my fingers ached.

“Pete, how did Liam get out?” I demanded. “Did someone help him? Did he tell you where he was going?”

Pete ever so slowly peeled his eyes off Krista and slid his gaze to my feet.

“No.”

“Pete, come on. Enough is enough,” I said. “Don’t you want to talk? Don’t you want to tell someone what’s going on? Don’t you want to get the hell out of here?”

He bit his lip and stared. There was something so vulnerable about him, so malleable, and I realized suddenly—that was exactly what Pete was. He’d been the last young Lifer to arrive here before Krista, who was the last to arrive before me, Darcy, and Liam. He was still just a kid like me. Someone who had been promised something he sorely wanted. Suddenly, my heart went out to him. Even with everything he had done, he was still one of us. He was still human.

“Darcy was always nice to you, wasn’t she, Pete?” I said quietly. “She laughed at your jokes, she thought you were fun, and she loved your music.”

Pete’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, and I could see something shifting within them. He was starting to cave. I clung to the bars and held my breath.

“She doesn’t deserve what she’s suffering right now, Pete. You know it. I know it. But only you know how to get her back. Please, just tell me how to save my sister.”

Pete pressed his lips together. His grip on his arms tightened. Outside, muted by the thick walls, a communal jeer went up from the crowd. I darted a glance at Krista, who looked as worried as I was. Time was slipping away from us, faster and faster and faster. If we didn’t fix this soon, those people out there were going to make what happened with Jessica look like a cakewalk.

“You just got in over your head a little bit,” I said to Pete, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. “You believed a promise someone made to you, and it forced you to do bad things. But if you help me, you’re going to redeem yourself in everyone’s eyes.” I took a shaky breath. “If you help me, I’ll help you. I’ll speak for you with the others.”

Pete swallowed. He rested his chin atop his arm and stared straight ahead. Not at me, not at Krista. At nothing.

“Eighteen paces,” he said quietly.

Krista stood up, the stool screeching against the floor and knocking back against the wall. “What?”

Pete was still as stone. “You have to walk exactly eighteen paces onto the bridge,” he said. “Then turn to the left and whisper the worst sin you committed in life. That’s how you open the door to the Shadowlands.”

I stood up, every cell in my body on fire. “That’s it?”

“As long as you tell the truth, the door will open,” Pete said, hazarding a glance at my face. He sniffled and rubbed his nose.

The surprise inside me manifested itself into one big, choking laugh.

“And then? How do we get the innocents out?” I asked.

“If a Lifer opens the door on purpose, for pure intentions or whatever, anyone who doesn’t belong in the Shadowlands will be set free.”

“Are you sure that’s all we have to do?” I asked, my skin on fire with anticipation. “There’s no price?”

“Nope. I guess the powers that be or whatever figured no Lifer would ever be crazy enough to try it.”

“Well, this one is.” I dropped to my knees again to be at eye level with him. “Thank you, Pete. Honestly. You have no idea what this means to me.” I reached out and clasped his forearm. “Thank you.”

Then I jumped up and grabbed the door handle. “Let’s go!”

“What? No way,” Krista replied. “You’re totally out of your mind. Who says he’s telling the truth? Who says you’re not gonna just get sucked into the Shadowlands, too?”

“Krista—”

“No. There’s no way I’m letting you do this without backup,” she said, shaking her head as she tugged out her walkie-talkie. She hit the button to speak, but I closed the gap between us with one long stride and grabbed her arm.

“Don’t.”

“Rory.”

“Krista, they’re going to try to stop me, and I won’t let them.” I snatched the walkie-talkie out of her hand and turned it off. “I’m going to the bridge, and I’m going to get my family back.”

I stared her straight in the eye. “Now, are you coming with me or not?”