Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
No one had told Dani that interdimensional travel was like being at the bottom of the ocean without a submarine.
The particles of her shrank down to the size and texture of an uncooked lasagna noodle, which were then squeezed through the massive pressure of the exposed universe and guided by the most threadbare of tethers—the hold she had on Wyatt’s hand.
She was certain that her bones would splinter at any second, or that the layers of her skin would slough off under the incredible force of the tunnel they were hurtling through.
This was no graceful tumbling down the rabbit hole, no sidling through the winter coats in the wardrobe; this was a tornado ripping a house from its foundation and lobbing it through a crack in space and time.
But the pavement that rushed up to meet them was far from a yellow brick road.
They slammed spread-eagle into the sidewalk, puddles splashing magnificently around them.
Dani’s chin bounced off the concrete and jarred her teeth against one another.
The world spun, and she heaved herself onto her back, which only made it worse.
“Hey, you okay?” Wyatt’s face appeared over hers.
His arm wriggled under her back and propped her upright against him.
Her vision swung back and forth like a pendulum, and before she could warn him, she folded at the waist and vomited into the gutter.
“There you go,” he said, rubbing between her shoulder blades with urgent soothing. “We’re out, it’s over, we’re good.”
Dani lifted her head and wiped her mouth. It was pouring now instead of drizzling. They’d landed in a dark alley she didn’t recognize, no sign of the van or anyone else in sight.
“Your first time can be rough if you aren’t ready for it,” Wyatt said—to his credit, without a hint of a joke in his tone.
But Dani wasn’t so sure it was just the portal that was making her sick.
She looked up and realized that she could see OneiroLabs at the end of the alley.
The building was spookily dark, like its spirit had left it, and she knew exactly how it felt.
Kass.
The reality of it hit her just as hard the second time.
Dani retched again, but she had nothing left in her, only despair.
Of course it had all been too good to be true.
She’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop for so long, expecting Kass to lose interest or realize just how not on his level she really was—but she’d been looking in the wrong place this whole time.
Katya’s voice came in over their telepathic connection, crackling with some kind of etheric static. Did it work? Are you out? One of you answer me!
Dani? Oliver said. Wyatt? Can you hear us?
Babe, are you all right? McKenna said.
She’s fine, Wyatt replied. We’re both fine. We’re out. We’re okay.
Where are you? Silva asked.
Behind OneiroLabs, Wyatt answered. Coming to pick us up?
We had to evacuate. Silva’s voice sounded faded, far away. You’d better get away from there. Now.
Another burst of static, then silence.
“Out of range, maybe,” Wyatt said.
“They left us?”
A wall of light sprang up ahead of them, igniting OneiroLabs from the ground floor to the penthouse—the generators had kicked in. Sirens began to howl, uncomfortably close. Dani and Wyatt looked at each other, certain that wolfpack was for them.
“We don’t want to be anywhere near here when the police show up,” Wyatt said. “Do you think you can stand?”
Dani nodded, but she only accomplished the feat with significant assistance, his arm wrapped tight around her waist and his other hand gripping hers. He held her like that for a minute while she found her sea legs, or whatever the term was for having just been punted through a wormhole.
“It’s only void sickness,” Wyatt said, making her wonder if she’d had that thought in the shell for anyone to hear. “Some people are more sensitive than others. You’ll be fine.”
If only it was just that she had to recover from.
An alarm blared from the service entrance and the gate swung open, ejecting several OneiroLabs security vehicles, each with a beam of enchanted light over its roof, igniting the streets around them.
“That’s our signal,” Wyatt said. “Let’s go.” With Dani still half cradled in his arms, he turned and ran.
It was almost worse than the portal. The rain-speckled darkness streaked past her like a jump into hyperspace, and it was all Dani could do not to dry-heave again, to keep her legs working underneath her instead.
Fear was a powerful drug, though, and the screaming sirens were more than enough to keep it pumping through her veins.
Wyatt had to stop and collect her several times when she tripped, but he never once lost his patience—only helped her up gently, urging her on in a quiet but insistent voice.
They had made it two blocks away from OneiroLabs when they saw the lights of the city police coming toward them.
Wyatt pulled her down another alley and they took shelter behind a dumpster as the cavalry rode past, horns blasting.
Dani was grateful for the respite from running, if not from the rain, and she was starting to get her bearings back.
She took the moment to look down at herself, the sweater under her unreliable raincoat so wet it was leaden on her torso, her leggings torn and filthy.
Her badge still hung around her neck, reminding her of her own disguise: Darlene.
A sudden, crushing claustrophobia came over her, and she couldn’t get the badge off fast enough, hurling it into the dumpster. On second thought, she popped the shell out of her ear and threw that in, too.
“Good thinking,” Wyatt said, copying her. “If they catch one of us, they might be able to use those to track the others.”
Dani hadn’t thought of that. She just wanted to rid herself of this awful night, undo everything she’d done, unlearn everything she’d learned.
She wanted to rewind, go back to that sparkling, stained glass moment at the end of her and Kass’s date, their perfect kiss, the rosy afterglow. All of that, ruined.
“Wh-what do we do now?” she asked. She was starting to shiver.
“We need to keep our heads down,” Wyatt said. “I don’t think you’re up to porting again, and I’m not sure we should try going back to campus just yet—we might get stopped on the streets. You want to grab a drink?”
Dani stared at him. “For real?”
“It’s the last place anybody will be looking for us. It’d be too reckless to hang out in public after we just tried to rob a megamillionaire company, right?”
“Right,” she said, “but I just threw up.” And she kind of felt like doing it again.
He shrugged. “Then get a soda or something. Sugar will help with the void sickness, and I have a feeling McKenna will garrote me if I don’t take care of you. Plus, I could really use a scotch.”
Dani couldn’t argue with that logic. “Okay,” she said, “but you have to pick the spot.”
The closest place they could find burning the midnight oil on a weeknight that wasn’t The Sand Bar was a hookah lounge.
It was an evening of firsts, Dani observed as they entered the hazy space; she had never been in one of these before, but she found the ambience instantly alluring.
The clientele was tucked away in cushioned alcoves, the openings draped with gauzy curtains that moved in an unfelt breeze.
A live guitarist was playing a seductive tune from a small stage near the end of the bar, which was a relic from some decade Dani hadn’t been alive for, built of an eye-catching green marble and plated with copper.
“We should probably hit the bathrooms before we order,” Wyatt said. “I don’t know about me, but you look like two people mashed together, and not in a good way.”
She took her first proper look at him since they’d ported out of OneiroLabs. The rain had washed off part of McKenna’s glamour, but not all of it, leaving him with half a goatee and a reverse mohawk.
“Yeah,” she said, surprising herself with a stark laugh. “Um, yikes.”
“No need to be rude about it,” he said, but he kept his head down as they headed for the back of the building, where the two single-use bathrooms were serendipitously unoccupied. They agreed that whoever was out first would grab a table, then went their separate ways.
It was a relief to be alone, even for just a moment.
Dani locked the door and let herself sag against it, all the air whining out of her.
The contents of this evening did not feel real—not the moment when she’d climbed into the van, not when Wyatt had knocked Dr. Rodriguez unconscious, not when Dani had picked up that quartzpad and shattered one of the last good, pure things she thought she had left in her life.
After a long moment, Dani crossed to the sink and confronted her image in the mirror.
Wyatt had nailed it: The person staring back at her was not quite Dani Lionet, not quite Darlene Albuquerque, but some unholy stop on the spectrum between the two.
McKenna had rounded out her cheeks, thickened her freckles, lightened her eyes, and sprinkled her with an even more youthful innocence, but these efforts had been eroded by the rain, and she could see the lavender straining through the mousy brown illusion.
It was almost like the current version of herself was trying to pierce the surface of her younger self, the person she had been before she’d been emancipated.
That girl had squatted by herself in her parents’ old apartment after they’d moved on to the next town, brought home expired food from the diner where she waited tables, and curled up in a sleeping bag zipped tight against the roaches she couldn’t get rid of.