Chapter 28 #2
“You already considered that.”
“I did. But it’s a moot issue, as we will rescue him.”
“Unless he’s already boinked Kali. Or, more likely, she boinked him. What?” Tia asks in response to all our shocked faces. “Just saying.”
“Well, stop,” I say. “Like we don’t have enough to deal with.”
“All of you stop,” Whistler growls. “It’s time to get this show on the road.”
Chase looks at me, and I know he’s about to argue again for me to stay behind. I just cross my arms and look him in the eye.
His expression never changes, but I see the struggle play out on his face. Then he simply nods to Mr. Griffin. “We’re ready.”
I glance at Tia, who flashes crossed fingers and a thumbs-up at me. She and Mr. Griffin are staying behind to monitor. Part of me envies her. A bigger part of me wants to keep her by my side. I know the game Kali is playing, and Tia’s definitely got a next victim stamp on her forehead.
I’m counting on Griffin keeping her safe—and on us keeping Kali and crew preoccupied in the Nightmare Realm.
“So who exactly is Kali, anyway?” Tia asks. “I mean, other than one of Adric’s minions?”
“She’s Adric’s most trusted lieutenant,” Chase says, his attention shifting to me as he adds, “and his consort.”
Tia’s eyes widen, and I struggle to show absolutely no emotion whatsoever.
That’s harder than it sounds. Because even with my better judgment screaming that warm fuzzies are not appropriate for the man who’s holding Uncle Finn, the thought that Adric’s sleeping with Kali feels like a stake to my heart.
And on the not-all-about-me side of the equation, I need to tell Chase the truth about the lashings. I’m just not sure how to squeeze that into a rescue mission.
What? Tia mouths, but I just shake my head, wallowing in my own confused emotions that now swirl around two men—both of whom I should hate. And yet somehow, I don’t.
“Let’s go,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
Whistler exhales. “We’re not going anywhere until I say my piece.
” He points between me and Chase. “Whatever crap went down between you two, you need to get your shit together. We’re dreamwalking into the bloody Nightmare Realm, remember?
And with a novice,” he adds, making me grimace.
“Because damned if I’m going to end up dead or tortured because you two got your hormones in a tizzy. Are we clear?”
I meet Chase’s eyes. I see his shoulders relax, then more tension flows out of his body. “Clear,” he says.
“Crystal,” I say, managing to feel relieved, chastised, and embarrassed all at the same time. “Totally crystal clear.”
Tia takes a step toward us. “Um, maybe we should wait until tomorrow. Let, you know, things settle.”
I look at Chase, who shakes his head. “There’s no more time,” he says. But what I hear in my head is, “I’m sorry.”
But whether he means about Finn’s situation, that he killed the Brides, or that he kept that important factoid away from me, I really don’t know.
That’s when I realize it doesn’t matter. If this thing between us is real, we’ll find our way back to even ground.
In the meantime, all that matters right now is Uncle Finn.
“Okay, then,” Griffin says. “You’re going in anchored to each other.
Don’t break contact until you’re firmly settled in the Nightmare Realm at the landing site.
You’ll have to trek a bit to the castle, but I want you to go in far enough away that no one at the castle senses any ripples upon your arrival. ”
He looks at each of us in turn. “Understand?”
We each nod, then Whistler says, “Looks like we’re ready to get this show on the road.
” He waggles his long, skinny fingers to indicate the three mats set up on the concrete floor.
We’re all three going in this way, rather than him and Chase just crossing over the way native Dreamwalkers do.
Chase insisted, not wanting me to go by myself.
Whistler plops himself down on an outer one, forcing me to sit next to Chase, close enough to feel the heat of him even though we’re not even touching yet.
I can smell him too—clean soap and the faint trace of something darker underneath. The scent makes my pulse stutter, and I blink furiously, fighting back tears as I work to focus on the mission and only the mission.
“On my mark,” Griffin says, as Tia bites her nails beside him.
Chase looks at me. “Cora,” he says quietly.
“Later,” I say, my voice tight. Then, after a beat, “If there is one.”
His jaw tightens, but he says nothing.
Whistler grabs my left hand, his calloused palm somehow grounding me even more.
I’m holding the lapis lazuli-studded blade with my other hand, and Chase puts his hand over mine.
His grip is gentle, almost hesitant, as if he fears I might flinch away.
I don’t, and when his thumb grazes my skin, my pulse jumps as tingly sensations scatter throughout my body.
My chest tightens. I want him. So help me, I do.
But I don’t want to know what I know.
“Remember, this is a surgical operation,” Griffin says. “Get in, get Finn, and get out.”
I force myself not to tremble. We’d gone over the plan for breaching the castle earlier. At the time, it had seemed exciting and sneaky. Now, it seems impossible.
“Close your eyes,” he says, then begins to guide us to the realm.
I keep my breathing even, listening to his voice and relishing the sensation of falling through layers of consciousness.
This part’s familiar now—the way the world thins if I let it. The trick is not to fight the slide or chase it. Just open. Just allow.
A shiver of sparks runs down my arms. The hair at the back of my neck lifts.
I close my eyes and picture Finn’s face—his crooked smile when he catches me stealing fries off his plate. The way he pinches the bridge of his nose when he’s thinking. Anything for an anchor.
My breath wants to quicken, and I force it back into pattern. In. Hold. Out. Rinse, repeat.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, but after a while, the floor under the mats stops feeling like a floor and starts feeling like the idea of floor. At the same time, the pressure around my ears increases like we’ve driven fast up a mountain.
“Cora,” Chase says, nothing else, just my name as a tether.
I squeeze his hand once. The sparks jump again, bigger, running up my forearm like static looking for a storm.
Don’t think of him in the park. Don’t think of candles snuffed out. Think of the now. Think of the next step. Think of the way he’s rescued you time and again from the sand monsters. The scorpions.
Adric.
Kali.
I can almost feel their nearness.
The thud of my heart syncs to the pulse in Chase’s wrist. Whistler’s grip tightens, a single click of reassurance.
“You’re good,” Tia says, her breath tickling my ear, both in this realm—which realm am I in now?
—and another. For a second, I smell damp stone, and a thought rises before I can stop it—the cave, the kiss, the way Adric looked at me like I was the answer to a question he’d been trying to remember for centuries.
A surge of heat hits low in my belly—want and wrong all mixed together—and I slam a door on it. Not now. Not this.
“Cora,” Chase says again, his voice soft, as if drawing me in.
I almost tell him to stop saying my name like that. That he lost the right to even think my name.
Then, I almost tell him to never stop saying my name like that.
Instead, I stay silent.
I breathe, letting myself know that I’ve got this. That this is who I was meant to be.
I feel warm. In control. I even feel powerful. And in that moment, I know with absolute certainty that the mission will be a success.
That, of course, is when it all goes to hell.