“But what if there was?” I asked. “If I had a tainted coin—”
“What? No. No way.”
“You don’t know that I can’t,” I shot back. “I can’t know unless I try.”
“Yeah, maybe. But how the hell would you get back out?” Tristan demanded.
“I’d find a way,” I said, turning in my seat to face him, my pulse thrumming in my wrists. “There has to be a way.”
“No way. There’s no chance,” Tristan said. “I am not going to let you risk your eternal soul.”
“But what about—”
“No. Rory. No. I can’t lose you,” Tristan said, grabbing my arm. “I don’t think I can exist here without you. Not anymore. You’re everything to me—do you understand that? Everything.”
I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to his. “Tristan—”
“Don’t leave me, Rory,” he whispered, his breath warm and sweet on my face. His fingers reached up and cupped my jaw, entangling themselves in my hair. “Promise me you’ll never leave me.”
I couldn’t speak. But I looked into his eyes, so very close to mine, and I nodded. I nodded my promise until his lips met mine.
I hadn’t known exactly how I would react to Tristan’s kiss until this moment, but now, suddenly, I knew that I had to kiss him back with everything I had. His lips were dry and tasted of salt and something rich and warm. I felt myself start to fold into him, my whole body sighing in relief. I was home. I was home. I was home. This was where I belonged. I knew it. He knew it. I was pretty sure the entire universe knew it. So this time, I didn’t pull away. I didn’t think about anyone else but him. I just let him kiss me and kiss me and kiss me, until he finally came up for air.
“God, I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too.”
He was cupping my neck with both of his hands, and I had somehow gathered the fabric of his T-shirt up in my fists until most of his perfect six-pack was exposed. Looking into my eyes, Tristan smiled contentedly.
“Check it out.”
“What?” I asked.
He turned my face to look out the windshield and I saw it. Five perfect beams of light busting through the fog ceiling, casting an incredible, ethereal glow on the ocean waves below. It was beautiful.
“The sun!” I gasped.
Tristan laughed. “The sun.”
Tristan cranked up the stereo—some ancient tune about summer in the city—and we headed back to town with the windows down. With one hand on the wheel and the other clutching mine, Tristan looked like himself again—like the beautiful, beach-town boy I’d fallen in love with—if only slightly less tan. Suddenly the bumps and divots in the road didn’t seem so much ominous as entertaining, showing us a bouncing, rollicking good time.
With Tristan’s hand in mine, I knew that everything really was going to be okay. He would never give up until my father and Darcy were freed. We’d figure it out together, come up with a plan, and save them. There was no longer any doubt in my mind. When Tristan said he was going to do something, he did it.
He parked the SUV near the town square and we could already see that everyone else in Juniper Landing had been inspired with the same idea. People strolled the sidewalks, stopping to chat with one another over the abrupt change in weather, or simply tipping their faces toward the sun. A couple of guys had already whipped out a Frisbee and were busy running and leaping through the wet grass, laughing as one of them skidded on his shoulder like the world was his own personal Slip’N Slide. Liam and Lalani stood at the edge of the general store’s striped awning, leaning into opposite sides of a column, not quite touching but smiling privately. There were bikers and skateboarders, joggers and gossipers. Some guy I’d never seen before bounced by on a pogo stick, giving us a jaunty wave.
The best part about it was, there were no visitors standing around shooting us dirty looks. No suspicious glances or whispers behind hands. The sun was working its magic on everyone’s psyches.
“Okay, this is like a circus,” Tristan said, still holding my hand.
“But in a good way,” I replied. “At least there are no actual clowns.”
A group of Lifers stepped out of the general store—Fisher and Kevin included—and I smiled as they squinted dramatically against the sun. Fisher caught sight of us, and we walked over to meet at the center of the park. It wasn’t until we were halfway there that Joaquin shoved open the door and slipped his sunglasses on. In the space of three seconds, I saw him see me, saw him notice my hand clasped with Tristan’s, and watched his face go cold. I thought about tugging my fingers out of Tristan’s grip, but decided against it. This was what I had chosen, what my heart had chosen, and Joaquin had already given his blessing, as much as he possibly could.
He looked both ways before crossing the street, then jogged to catch up with us.
“How’s it going, man?” Joaquin asked, slapping Tristan on the shoulder. Tristan flinched forward from the force of it but recovered nicely. I tried to catch Joaquin’s eye, but it was impossible with him wearing mirrored sunglasses. It was my own distorted reflection that stared back at me.
“Okay,” Tristan said. “Better now that the sun’s out.”
“No doubt,” Fisher said, rubbing his hands together. “You’re back, the sun’s back…. I think this calls for a celebration.”
“Party on the bay beach?” Joaquin suggested, raising his eyebrows. “Get a little beach volleyball going, maybe take out some of the kayaks? Scrounge up some grub from the Swan and invite the visitors?”
“It’s not like we can usher anyone else anyway,” Kevin said, lifting his palms. “We’re outta good coins.”
“I see where you’re going with this, but are we sure we’re ready to celebrate?” Tristan asked. “Rory’s family is still stuck in the Shadowlands. Not to mention a bunch of other innocent people.”
Fisher seemed to deflate. The smile fell from Joaquin’s lips. “What, you think I don’t care about her family?” Joaquin demanded, angling himself in front of Tristan.
My heart dropped. That was a fighter’s stance if I’d ever seen one. Tristan, unsurprisingly, looked confused.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Good, because I do care,” Joaquin replied. “So what are we supposed to do? You’re the one with the answers, right? Everyone’s just been dying for the great Tristan to come home to give us the answers. So what do we do?”
Tristan dropped my hand. His jaw clenched and he crossed his arms over his chest. “If I knew that, don’t you think I would have done it already?”
“Then why are you trying to bring us down, man? We haven’t seen the sun in two weeks. I don’t think hanging out and letting everyone blow off some steam for a few hours is necessarily a bad idea, considering how tense everyone’s been. But if you disagree, then obviously we’ll do whatever you say. Isn’t that how it works around here?”
“Let’s just calm down.” I forced myself in between Tristan and Joaquin, my hands raised at my sides. “I, for one, think the party is a fantastic idea. We’ll relax for a few hours, and who knows? Maybe Pete will finally wake up, and we can get our answers.”
Joaquin simply stared at me, so I turned around to face Tristan.
“I love that you thought of my feelings, but it’s okay,” I told him quietly. “I think this place could use a little joy.”
Tristan swallowed hard. I could feel his body unclench, letting go of the adrenaline brought out by Joaquin’s obvious ire.
“Okay, then,” he said to the group. “A party it is.”
Half an hour later, said party was in full swing. I stood near the sidelines while Bea jumped up to spike a battered volleyball into the sand, her torso exposed in her sporty red bikini, her fiery hair loose around her shoulders. The look on her face was pure “kill.” Liam and Lauren, who were playing against her and one of the
taller male visitors, actually ducked for cover.
Smart move. The ball hit the ground with the force of a rocket, ricocheting off with a spray of sand and landing on the boardwalk. It almost tripped an elderly man jogging by, and he threw a curse at us as he tossed it back. Liam helped Lauren off the ground, clasping her forearm-to-forearm, and she rolled her eyes at him.
“I thought you said you were good at this,” she groused.
Liam threw his sinewy arms wide. In red shorts and a white tank top, he looked every bit the lifeguard he’d been on Earth. “You could have warned me you had an Olympian on the other side.”
Lauren bent to dust the sand off her legs. “She was a diver! Not a volleyball player!”
Bea and her partner cackled and shared a high five, then started whispering behind their hands, planning their next shot.
“We need more chips and salsa!” Kevin shouted. “Anybody wanna go with me?”
“I’ll go!” Liam volunteered instantly, jogging off the court.
“Hey!” Lauren protested.
But Liam ignored her. He said a few words to Fisher, who stood on the opposite side. Fisher pulled his shirt off, tossed it on the sand, and went to take his place next to Lauren. Liam and Kevin took off for the stairs and disappeared up the boardwalk.
“Aw yeah! You’re going down, Fish!” Bea crowed, moving her head back and forth tauntingly.
“Talk about letting off some steam,” Joaquin said, moseying over and taking a long-necked bottle of beer from the cooler behind me.
I automatically glanced over my shoulder at the water. Tristan was out there, floating in a kayak alongside Teresa, their oars resting over their laps as they conversed with heads bent as close together as they could get in separate boats. I was sure Tristan was talking to her about his recovery and Pete’s condition. I hoped she had only good news on both.
“Bea’s pretty good, huh?” Joaquin said, gesturing at her with the bottle before popping it open on the lip of the cooler’s lid.
My skin warmed at his nearness, and I sipped my water. “She’s good,” I agreed.
“You should see Krista play. She kicks everyone’s ass.” Joaquin stood next to me with forced casualness, his bare feet planted wide in the still-damp sand, one hand in the pocket of his jeans. I felt a zip of attraction and focused my gaze on the volleyball net.
“Krista? Really?”
He nodded as he took a swig of beer. “She played in high school. Coulda played in college if she’d made it that far.”
Huh. Guess you could never tell everything about a person just by looking at them.
“Where is Krista, anyway?” Joaquin asked, glancing around. “She lives for this crap.”
“She’s cleaning up the playroom and then coming down,” I told him. “Apparently the mayor’s all over her to get their house back to normal now that the kids are gone.”
Bea served the ball, and Fisher bumped it to Lauren, who barely got it over the net. The visitor boy on Bea’s side set it up for her, and she was just going up for another spike when Fisher stood up straight, his eyes trained on the water.
“Not again.”
The ball hit the sand. Everyone turned around. At the water’s edge, Tristan and Teresa were just tugging their brightly hued kayaks up the sand as the fog rolled in behind them, thick and fast. I gasped, and Tristan’s eyes met mine, homing in on me as if making sure he’d be able to find me once the gray mist gobbled him up.
“Who’s supposed to be ushered?” Bea whispered just as we were overtaken by the billowing cloud.
I whipped around, disoriented. The fog was so thick I couldn’t see more than a foot in any direction. Her voice had come from off my right shoulder when I had thought she was standing to my left.
“Bea?”
“Yeah?” she replied. I jumped. Now it sounded like she was directly behind me.
“Okay, nobody move. Just for a second.” I took a breath, my pulse throbbing. I’d forgotten how terrifying the fog could be. Someone moved past nearby, the mist swirling just to my left. But there were no shadows, no shapes, no shades of light. Only fog.
I had no idea how long I stood there in silence. The fog had a way of erasing time or making it speed up or making it stop. Within it, everything was suspended. Everything except my fear.
Suddenly, someone grabbed my hand. I let out a strangled gasp.
“Tristan?” I hoped, turning around.
Joaquin appeared out of the mist, pulling my hips against his and holding me there.
“No. It’s just me,” he said huskily, studying my face. “I figured this might be my last chance to do this.”
He leaned down and kissed me, parting my lips with his tongue, holding me against him with his strong arms. My pulse skipped erratically in exhilaration and happiness and guilt and fear. I knew in the back of my mind that I should probably break away, but my heart—my stupid, sadistic heart—demanded otherwise. I closed my eyes and gripped the back of his shirt with everything I had in me. Whether it was a good-bye or just a desperate plea for understanding, I kissed him right back.
“Ho. Lee. Crap,” Fisher said.
I opened my eyes, my stomach twisting, knowing already what I would see. The fog had cleared out and Fisher was standing maybe five inches to my right, still shirtless, slowly tugging his mirrored glasses off. Joaquin released me and I stumbled backward a step, looking around. Tristan had stopped midstride, only three feet away, his face slack with devastation. I opened my mouth to say something, to explain myself, but I didn’t get the chance. Our walkie-talkies crackled to life, and Dorn’s voice boomed through the speakers.
“Be advised: Pete’s awake.”
I looked at Joaquin.
“Go,” he said, the underlying meaning clear. He would handle Tristan. Whatever that meant, I’d find out later. Right now, I had a family to save.
I was halfway up the steps when Krista sprinted up to the guardrail, her blue eyes wild, half her hair falling out of her ponytail. Her face was as gray as ash.
“You guys, it’s happening again,” she choked out right in front of the visitors, the Lifers, everyone. “Three souls were just ushered to the Shadowlands.”
“Um…what’s the Shadowlands?” one of the visitors asked finally.
Everyone ignored him, but the question seemed to spark something inside Tristan, who started up the beach in his bare feet, flowered swim trunks, and rash guard.
“Tristan? Where are you going?”
The look on his face as he moved past me up the steps was like nothing I’d ever seen before. At least not from him. The anger, the determination seemed to radiate from somewhere deep within him, making every step rigid, and inspiring everyone in his path to scurry out of the way.
“No, seriously. What’s the Shadowlands?” the same kid repeated. I bit my lip as silence reigned. To explain it to him would mean damning him there, and damning ourselves as well. We just had to hope he’d forget about it, or else we’d take him to the mayor for a memory wipe. As long as no one answered him, we’d be okay.
I reached for Tristan’s arm. He turned on me, his blue eyes bright with rage.
“You want to talk to Pete, so let’s go talk to Pete,” he snapped, shooting a death ray over my head in Joaquin’s direction. “Let’s put an end to this once and for all.”
He tromped up the stairs and passed a still-stricken Krista without so much as a glance. The rest of us stood around uncertainly, a fierce breeze tearing at our clothes and whipping my hair into my eyes. Were we supposed to follow him? Did he even want us to?
I glanced at Joaquin, my heart a destroyed and pounding mess. His eyes hardened, and I felt something inside me fall away.
“So let’s go,” he said.
Joaquin bounded up the stairs, and the rest of us followed. Maybe Tristan had been right earlier, in
the park. Maybe this party had been a bad idea. We had let our guard down. We had forgotten to be vigilant. And now we were responsible for more devastation.
“There’s something else,” Krista said to Joaquin as she fell into step with him. I stayed right behind them on our way up the hill, blowing by the old Victorian houses and ducking under the bowed branches of bare and spindly trees. “The twins got away from the mayor before she could wipe their memories again.”
“What?” I demanded.
“So they’re out there right now telling people that a bunch of locals are making people disappear at the bridge?” Joaquin said fiercely. “Great. That’s the best news I’ve heard today.”
Krista looked green. “She’s got Chief Grantz looking for them, so hopefully they’ll be locked up soon, too.”
Joaquin upped his pace, and I trained my eyes on Tristan’s back until we finally reached the town square. Tristan stormed across the park and took the steps to the police station two at a time. As he yanked open the front door, I paused to look back at the mayor’s house. What had once looked like an exclusive hotel to me now seemed like the menacing witch’s dark castle, another symbol of everything that was wrong with this world. The weather vane, sure enough, pointed south, obstinately ignoring the wind that swirled around it.
“What’s Tristan going to do?” I asked Bea as she caught up to me. I hugged my arms against the chill.
“I don’t know, but it’s gonna be interesting.”
We jogged across the park to catch up, blowing by Joaquin as we bounded up the marble steps. Through the lobby and down the stairs, we could hear Tristan shouting. In the time I’d known him I’d only ever heard him raise his voice once, and that was during an argument with Joaquin. Bea’s eyes widened with mine as we bolted for the door at the far end. Pete was sitting facing the corner of his cell, his knees drawn up under his chin. Tristan shouted at Pete’s back, crouched on the floor as close as he could get to the bars. Dorn stood in the far corner, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared everyone else down like he was Tristan’s personal bodyguard.