Into The Fire (The Ending Series) (10 page)

Ky groaned and struggled to sit up. “Road trip?”

6

DANI

MARCH
15, 1AE

“There are a few things you should keep in mind,” Gabe said
as he unlocked the front door to my new home and let me in.

“Hmmm?” I was barely listening.
General Herodson is
giving me my own house!
Gabe couldn’t possibly have been saying anything
that could compete with my excitement to explore.
My own home! Eeek!

The house was in a neighborhood a little south of the
building housing General Herodson’s office, about a fifteen-minute walk. The
exterior was painted a muted sienna with white trim, and it had been fashioned
in a cookie-cutter, pseudo-craftsman style. From the outside it looked perfect,
displaying its glaringly white two-car garage with evident pride. Momentarily,
I wondered if a new car came with my new home. The whole thing felt surreal,
like winning the lotto without buying a ticket.

“General Herodson keeps a strict order around here, but
because of Project Eden—the reproduction program—some of the men think they can
take liberties with any woman they want.”

“Right,” I said, hearing but not processing a single word
he’d uttered. My attention was completely focused on the living room we’d
entered. It was more luxurious than I’d expected for a house on a military
base, with hardwood floors, huge, bright windows, and an open ceiling that
allowed me to see the second-floor landing. There were two tasteful microsuede
armchairs and a sofa in cream and sage green, with pillows, throws, and
curtains in bolder reds and browns. “Does somebody already live here?” I asked,
shifting my eyes from the furnishings to the ridiculously high vaulted ceiling.
“You know, ’cause it looks like someone lives here…”

“Not anymore,” Gabe said, and I heard him shut and lock the
front door.

For some reason, his words resonated with me, and I suddenly
had an overpowering sense of déjà vu. Except, in my head, it was someone else’s
voice uttering those words—
not anymore—
and I was in a completely different
place.
What…?

“Dani? Are you okay?” Gabe asked.

I could have sworn I was forgetting something important.
Shaking my head, I looked up at his face and attempted a smile. “Yeah…just déjà
vu.”

Gabe sighed and continued on, guiding me further into the
house. “The bedrooms are all upstairs,” he said, pointing to the polished
wooden staircase leading up to the second floor from the entryway as we passed
by.

I followed him down the hallway parallel to the stairs.
“This place is big,” I said as a dining room came into view on the left. It was
completely open to the hallway. Just like the living room, the dining room had
been decorated by someone with elegant, if restrained, taste. A heavy, mission-style
oak table was set up to provide seating for eight people. It was all so much
more than one person needed.

“Um…shouldn’t this place be used by a family or something?”
I asked.

Gabe paused, and I nearly bumped into him. He didn’t notice.
Instead, he gestured with his hand toward a shorter hallway shooting off to the
right. “This leads to the downstairs bathroom and the laundry room.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I told him, barely glancing
down the hall.

Reluctantly, Gabe met my eyes. “I know.” He took a deep
breath, holding it for a second too long. “You see, Dani, General Herodson is
hoping this
will
become a family’s home…
your
family’s home.”

Baffled, I shook my head. “But I don’t have any family left.
How…?”

“You have a very desirable Ability, one the General would
like to have passed on to the next generation,” he said softly.

That
made me raise my eyebrows. “What if I don’t want
to have kids? And”—my eyes widened as I remembered it took two people to make a
child—“who would I even have kids with? Some soldier? A stranger?
You
?”
I asked, pretending to be offended. Okay, I
was
a little offended. I
liked the General, but I wasn’t his possession to pass around as he saw fit.

Gabe started backing further down the main hallway, entering
a large, open space. “Now, I never said—”

“Calm down, I know you’re just the messenger,” I said,
swatting his arm. I swept past him and into the room, pausing to peer back at
him. “Besides, you’d be a better choice than any military guy.”

As the words left my mouth, they tasted wrong—untrue—but I
had no idea why. It wasn’t like the man standing several feet behind me
couldn’t have stepped out of most women’s fantasies; he was handsome,
put-together, charismatic, and kind. In his light gray slacks and white button-down
shirt, he looked like the guy every parent wanted their daughter to bring home.
I
knew
I was interested in him in a more-than-friends way—so what was
with the weird part of my head screaming,
Wrong! This is all WRONG!

Stop it!
I told myself. I glanced around, taking in
the open kitchen, with its earthy, tiled countertops and wide island, and the
cozy family room adjoining it.

“Look! There’s a fireplace!” I exclaimed, sounding like a
little kid spotting a horse…or, well,
me
spotting a horse. But I liked
fires; they were comfortable, familiar. After all, I’d spent the past few
lonely months hopping from place to place, relying on campfires as my only
source of heat during the cold, dark nights.

The second I thought about that—about sitting around
campfires, isolated and alone—I felt the feeling of wrongness again. I couldn’t
picture a single place I’d camped, couldn’t remember any of the houses I’d
squatted in. I couldn’t even remember the details of my journey to the Colony
from…somewhere.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to think, to remember, but… “Gabe,
I can’t remember…I think something’s wrong with me,” I said, imploring him with
my eyes. “I don’t know how I got here…or where I came from. Did I come from
Seattle? I must’ve, but I can’t…I just don’t know!”

On the verge of panic, I felt Gabe’s arm settle over my
shoulders, and several tentative steps later, I was sinking into the
comfortable embrace of a couch. After only a moment of hesitation, Gabe seated
himself beside me. I could see him out of the corner of my too-wide eye. He was
watching me, his brow furrowed.

I opened my mouth, releasing a barrage of questions. “
Did
I come straight from Seattle? Why’d I leave? Did—oh God—did Cam…did everyone
die? What about Callie? I just…I can’t remember! Why didn’t I go to Bodega Bay
to check on Grams? Or Massachusetts to see if Zo survived? Why’d I come here?
And why didn’t I bring Jack? And how’d I meet you? I know I knew you before I
got here, but how is that possible? And what about—”

Gabe captured my hands, halting my words. “Dani, calm down.
You have a concussion. It’s probably just short-term memory loss. Everything
will be much clearer in the morning.”

A concussion?
I squeezed his hands, feeling like they
were the only things tethering me to sanity. “Please tell me…how did we meet?”

“I found you when you were all alone,” he said, not taking
his eyes from mine. “I helped you learn to use your telepathy.”

Right…that feels right.
“Did we travel together?”

His eyes flicked down to our hands, then back up to my face,
a plea evident in their pale blue depths. “Not exactly.”

“Then how’d you find me?” My chin quivered as I said “me.” I
was trying to remember the details of the past four months, but I
just…couldn’t.
This is
not
good.

Gabe looked away briefly and muttered, “He wouldn’t have
taken that, too, would he?” He shook his head. “Dani, I found you by using
my
Ability, remember? I can visit people’s dreams.”

The absurdity of the statement stopped my flow of tears
before it even started. “You
do
realize how weird that sounds when you
say it out loud, don’t you?”

Releasing one of my hands, he wrapped his arm around me,
pulling me against his side. “Yeah, I do.”

A nervous laugh bubbled out of me. Being in such close
proximity to him was making my stomach fluttery, in a really,
really
good
way. “You should call it something grander; visiting people’s dreams sounds a
little lame. Maybe you should say”—I lowered my voice—“‘I am a Dreamwalker.’”

Gabe’s answering laugh was deep and melodious, and at the
sound of it, my heart gave an enthusiastic thump. I peered up at him through my
lashes. “So…should we explore upstairs? Check out the bedrooms?”
Check out
the bed?
It had been months since I’d been this close to another person,
let alone a man who made me feel so giddy.

He tensed up, clenched his jaw, and looked away. Abruptly,
he stood, leaving me cold and alone where we’d been warm and cuddling only a
moment before. “Of course. I’m sure you want to shower, hot water and all,” he
said dismissively.

At the words “hot water” I nearly drooled. All thoughts of
Gabe and beds evaporated as I imagined standing beneath a steaming stream of
hot water.
Oh my God…or soaking in an oh-so-hot bath…

Without another word, I stood and zipped past Gabe into the
hallway and up the stairs, ignoring my aching head the entire time. It only
took me a few seconds to find the master bedroom. Its oak furnishings were as
tasteful as those on the ground floor, and there was a queen bed covered in a
fluffy, bronze-colored down comforter and a wide window fitted with lowered
bamboo blinds. The adjoining bathroom was spacious, including two sinks, an
oversized tub, and a separate stall shower.
Definitely a bath
,
I
thought blissfully while I toed off my tennis shoes and peeled off my borrowed
sweats. I left the door cracked open a few inches, wondering if Gabe would see
it as an invitation. And yes, it
was
an invitation.

I fiddled with the hot and cold knobs on the edge of the
tub, thankful that hot water poured from the faucet within seconds. Glorious
steam floated up from the water’s surface, enticing me to sink in even though
the large tub was only a few inches full. I almost did, but after a quick
glance around the ledge of the bathtub, I noticed an extreme lack of
toiletries. Soap, at least, was a necessity.

Hopeful, I padded to the cupboards beneath the sinks on the
opposite side of the bathroom, closed my eyes, and whispered, “Please have some
shampoo and conditioner.” I cracked my eyes open to peek into the far right
cupboard and found only cleaning supplies.

“Damn.”

The middle cupboard was jammed full of toilet paper and
boxes of tissues.
Useful, but not what I’m looking for.
Crossing my
fingers, I opened the left cupboard and sighed. Bottles of several types of
shampoo, conditioner, and body wash fought for space with boxes of bar soap,
cans of shaving cream, loofahs, and razors.

I was going to take a hot bath
and
shave my legs. “Oh
God,” I groaned.

“What?” Gabe called from the other side of the door. Evidently,
it hadn’t been a very quiet groan.

I frowned. He was in the adjoining bedroom, but apparently
he wasn’t planning to cross the doorway and join me in the tub. My pride would
have been wounded if the slight hadn’t been vastly overshadowed by my
excitement about the gallons of hot water awaiting me.

“Nothing,” I replied. Glancing at the empty towel rack, I
added, “Can you find me a towel? There aren’t any in here.”

“Sure.”

While I waited, I searched through the various bottles in
the cupboard, finally settling on some herbal-scented hair products and a
vanilla body wash. It wasn’t bubble bath, but that didn’t stop me from using it
as such. I drizzled the thick, pearly liquid near the faucet, watching the
water churn it into a frothy foam that smelled like vanilla icing. And then I
stepped into heaven.
Oh God…

The moment I sank into the sudsy water, I could have died from
contentment. Closing my eyes, I savored the sensations, comparing the luxurious
heat of the bath to the icy water I was used to…and then I sat bolt upright.
Water splashed against the sides of the tub, spilling over the edge in a few
places. I turned off the faucet.
When was the last time I bathed
—and
where?
I couldn’t remember, exactly, but I had the feeling it had been
outside. I could almost feel the stinging sensation of water from a frigid
mountain creek gliding down my bare skin, but I couldn’t actually remember.
What
the hell?

Taking a deep, soothing breath, I settled back into the hot
water, rested my head against the porcelain edge, and closed my eyes.

“You decent?” Gabe called from the other side of the
bathroom door, and my heart gave a startled extra pump.

I opened my eyes and glanced down at the layer of thick,
white foam concealing my body.
Decent enough
, I supposed. “Yep.”

Gabe pushed the door open further and poked his head through
the crack. Seeing me in the tub, he smirked. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant
by ‘decent.’”

I shrugged, making the layer of bubbles tremble and
rearrange on the water’s surface.

Gabe’s smirk grew into a wicked grin. “I found the towels. They’re
in the closet near the stairs.”

“Did you bring me one, or would you rather I get it myself?”
I asked playfully.

His eyes narrowed as he pretended to consider his options,
and then he laughed. “This time, I brought you one. Next time…we’ll see.”

I smiled and closed my eyes again. The pensive, concerned
Gabe from downstairs was gone, replaced by the Gabe I was used to. “Come in and
talk to me. It’s lonely in here.”
…and I’m tired of being alone.

The hinges creaked as Gabe pushed the door the rest of the
way open, letting some of the warm steam escape. “Feel better?” he asked from
somewhere near the cupboards. Cracking open my left eyelid, I found him seated
on the counter, a fluffy mauve towel beside him.