“Wait here,” she tells Red. Liddy seems to be out of it, swaying in her seat and shielding her eyes from the streetlights. “Let me tell him first?”
“We don’t have time for gentle, Casey.”
She shoots him a look in the mirror before she gets out of the car and sprints up the steps, hammering on Evan’s door. Before she even gives him a chance to answer, she rings the doorbell over and over again. She keeps ringing it even as the porch light comes on and he swings the door open.
“What the heck is going on? Are you … is everything okay?” He makes a grumpy face at her. “Casey?”
She wants to launch herself into his arms, to bask in his warmth and humor and the soft way he says her name even after she’s hurt him.
But she fights it.
There isn’t time for that now.
“I need a favor,” she says in one frantic breath. “A really big favor.”
“Casey, what is it? You’re freaking me out.”
“I, uh—” She runs her hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face as she looks back at the car.
Evan follows her line of sight. “Who is that?”
Casey feels a miserable ache in her stomach as she prepares to tell him. “Evan, let’s go inside for a minute.”
“What’s going on?”
He leans around her as Red gets out of the car. He nods when he notices him, but pales when he sees who Red helps climb out of the back seat. Evan looks at Casey, eyes widened to the point of pain.
“Is that…” Evan grips the door for support, swearing under his breath. “Oh, you didn’t.”
“Yeah, I sort of did.” Casey watches as the color continues to drain from his face. “Can we come in?”
EIGHTEEN
EVAN REFUSES TO sit still.
Casey, Liddy, and Red sit knee to knee on his fabric couch, watching him pace back and forth.
Sometimes he scratches at the back of his head, tipping his neck and wincing, like he’s thinking really hard. Other times he stops and stares at Liddy, blinking like she might disappear if he squeezes his eyes tight enough.
Casey studies the house while Evan works through his internal crisis. It hasn’t changed much over the years. His mom and stepdad have always kept a neat place. She knows from experience that all of the mess is contained to Evan’s room—textbooks and sports equipment and probably last night’s dishes. The only thing that changes with any regularity are the photos of Evan on the wall. Each year, his new school picture is framed and replaces the old one.
Finally, he stops pacing and makes direct eye contact.
“Tell me if I have this right. On your first solo trip, you brought our dead best friend back to life, which is against the rules, and now I’m harboring a cross-dimensional fugitive in my living room.” He claps his hands together. “No offense, Lids.”
“None taken.”
“Of course it’s against the rules,” Red mumbles. “And she’s not alive. Not really.”
Casey folds her hands in her lap, trying her best not to grimace. “But you’re more or less right.”
“Well, okay … wow. I mean, it’s good to see you, Liddy, but … it’s weird. Impossible, really. I’m dreaming, right?”
Red opens his mouth, preparing to say something, but decides against it.
“We need somewhere for her to stay,” Casey explains, “where other people won’t see her.”
“Like her family?” Evan rubs his chin. “And kids we know? And pretty much the entire population of the town?”
“Yeah, not the best idea right now. And I thought, since your parents are still away—”
“That I might put up our best friend in my spare bedroom so no one finds out you brought her back to life?” He nods. “All right, I’m in.”
“Just like that?” Casey asks.
“I was never really out.” The smile he gives her is warm and forgiving and immediately she wants to melt into him.
“You two haven’t changed,” Liddy mumbles. “Still staring at each other with big goo-goo heart eyes.”
“Ah, I missed you, Lids,” Evan says. “Things haven’t been the same without you.”
Casey wrinkles her nose. “And we do not stare at each other with goo-goo eyes.”
“Please. It’s so”—Liddy shudders, like a chill has zipped down her spine—“obvious.”
“Liddy, are you okay?”
“Tired,” she says. “And sore. Everything hurts.”
“Here,” Evan says. He pulls a pillow from one of the stuffed armchairs and takes his mother’s favorite throw blanket off the back of the couch. “Lie down and rest. We’ll figure out what’s going on.”
Red stands, wandering into the den, where the bay windows reveal an inky, black sky. Flickers of lightning spark across it, seeming to crash into one another.
“That’s intense,” Evan says when they join Red at the window. “I bet they close the beaches today.”
Red stares out the glass, a grim look on his face. “That’s no storm.”
“Oh, you mean your friend from the church is coming over?”
Red unlocks the screen door and steps onto the back porch. A harsh wind picks up, whipping through the house, bringing with it large drops of rain. Thunder crashes above them, shaking the ground.
Evan’s yard isn’t fenced, opening into a field. Red walks out to where the sudden storm seems to be gathering. Lightning splinters across the sky, colliding over Evan’s house.
“Red!” Casey shouts.
She tears off into the rain after him, with Evan yelling her name from inside.
Red stops below the thundering mass, throwing his hand out before she catches up. “Stay back,” he warns. Rain streams down his face, dripping from his chin.
The ground shakes again as a bolt of lightning strikes near them, sending Casey tumbling. It erupts in a golden flame that shoots upward before disappearing. Then the sky is quiet and the rain stops.
Light from inside spills across Evan’s backyard, and from the scorched earth steps Malakhi, his arched wings the color of white beach sand. They disappear, receding into his back, as he steps away from the smoldering ground.
“Malakhi,” Red greets, his tone not exactly friendly.
“I told you I didn’t want to do this again, Redmond.”
Somehow—perhaps because she knows Liddy is inside fighting for her existence, or the fact that the figure before her terrifies her more than Red ever has—Casey has the good sense not to comment on Redmond.
Red hangs his head. “I know.”
Casey scrambles to her feet as Malakhi circles Red, looking him up and down. There are gaping holes in his shirt where his wings have retreated. Through the scraps of material, Casey expects she would see the fine feathered outline tattooed against his skin.
“Only you could somehow make this situation worse. All you had to do was help her track down one measly little soul.”
“It’s not his fault,” Casey interjects.
Malakhi examines her with a kind of scrutiny that makes her want to shrink in on herself. She doesn’t know what he’s looking for exactly, or if he ever finds it. His expression gives nothing away. Eventually, he just stops looking. “Where is the girl? Take me to her.”
“Inside.” Red turns on his heel and the two of them stride across the field to Evan’s porch.
Casey jogs to catch up.
“You know the entire purpose of this assignment was for you to earn your wings back, right?” Malakhi says coldly.
“I didn’t intend for this to happen,” Red says, glaring at him.
“Perhaps you weren’t as focused as you should have been.”
Evan opens the screen door again and watches as the two angels breeze by him.
Casey shrugs at the look he shoots her, following the others back to the living room. “Where’s Liddy?” she asks, staring at the abandoned spot on the couch.
Evan gestures over his shoulder. “Bathroom.”
From down the hall, she hears Liddy’s voice: “What do you want?”
Casey frowns, turning in the direction of the bathroom. “Who’s she talking to?”
Casey eyes Evan before they both sprint down the hall. She gets there first and staggers to a stop, grabbing the door frame.
Liddy clutches the edge of the sink, hair falling over her face, speaking to her reflection. Except the image is a dark reflection, pale and trembling, with black veins spreading beneath the skin.
Her voice is low, the whispers too fast for Casey to make out. Then from her lips spills a sound that makes the lights flicker and the mirror tremble, just like the high-pitched squeal of the obsii creatures.
“Oh, flamin’ heck,” Evan says. He grabs Liddy by the arm and yanks her from the bathroom as the mirror shatters, exploding into hundreds of pieces that scatter across the floor. “Hey, angel-boys, there’s a talking demon in the mirror!”
The three of them cower together on the floor, shock rooting them to the spot.
“Liddy,” Casey whispers, nudging her with a foot.
“I don’t feel so good,” she mumbles.
Evan gestures to the mess. “My mom is probably gonna ask about this.”
In his arms, Liddy turns a pale green color, almost like the algae that grows across the surfaces of ponds in the dank heat of summer. Then the green recedes to gray, like dead flesh.
She rolls from his arms, slumping onto the carpet on all fours and heaves, throwing up black tar.
“Liddy!” Casey screams.
Malakhi stalks down the hall and bends over Liddy. He rests a palm against her forehead.
Finally he straightens, turning to face them, his eyes swirling. “She’s without a vessel,” Malakhi says.
Red nods. “I know. We sealed the access point from Limbo, but—”
“That won’t hold against what’s coming.” Malakhi’s dark eyes narrow. “The obsii already grow inside her.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Casey insists, getting to her feet.
She doesn’t know why, but her desire to defend Red is overwhelming. Maybe it’s the dismissive way Malakhi looks at him, or the fact that the first thing he did was taunt Red with his wings, the one thing Casey knew he wanted more than anything. Or maybe it’s simply because this whole mess really is her fault. Red has done nothing but try to protect her since he got here.
“It was me,” she says. “I brought her back. I left Limbo unsealed.”
“You were in his charge,” Malakhi says dismissively, nodding toward Red. “There is no excuse for this.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” she says again. She rests her hand in the middle of Liddy’s back. “I did this. He had no idea I was even there.”
“He was supposed to be watching you. Guiding you. So things like this didn’t happen.”
Casey lets out a small sob as Liddy shudders, spewing thick black bile onto the carpet. Evan slides out of the way as another shudder seizes Liddy’s entire body. Evan wraps his hand around her waist when her body begins to jerk, and Casey pulls her hair away from her face.
In Evan’s arms, Liddy goes limp and he lowers her to the ground on her back. They watch her eyes roll into her head.
“What’s wrong with her?” Casey demands.
“She can’t remain here like this,” Malakhi says. “The obsii are coming.”
“Here? How?” Evan demands.
“Liddy has created a hole, and it calls to them. They will come en masse,” Malakhi answers. “Lift her head.”
Malakhi turns his gaze on Liddy and Casey feels the dizziness creep in.
Evan rolls away clutching his head.
“A veil,” Red says. “You think that will work?”
“It won’t hold them off for long,” Malakhi admits. “She’s too far gone for that, but it might buy us some time.”
“Time for what?” Evan demands.
“To relocate somewhere safer. Somewhere we can contain this mess. And we don’t need to give them a front-row view of where that is. The less those things are privy to, the better.” He crouches in front of Liddy, trailing his finger across her forehead. “Sleep, child. Put the voices in your head to rest.”
Liddy’s eyelids flutter.
“She’s fighting it,” Red says.
Casey watches the glaze in Malakhi’s eyes swirl faster. It’s equal parts mesmerizing and nauseating. He mumbles hushed words, too fast and too foreign for her to understand. A sudden gust of wind spirals through the room, ruffling her hair.
“No,” Liddy mutters, squirming against them. “No more. Casey don’t let them do this to me!” Her eyes are white as they roll back in her head, her lids fluttering over them.
Crouching behind her, Casey lays her hands against Liddy’s head, her hair still damp from earlier. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, holding her tighter. After everything, she’s only made things worse. Now Liddy isn’t just dead, but undead in a way—a soul without a vessel, marked as a path by the darkness.
“You promised,” Liddy mutters, her head lolling to the side, trying to see her. “You were supposed to protect me.”
Casey’s fingers slip, her breath caught in her throat, but Evan’s there suddenly, catching Liddy.
“Sleep,” Malakhi continues to mumble and all Casey can do is try not to cry.
“She doesn’t mean it,” Red whispers. “It’s not her talking.”
Whether it is or not, the words ring true, and Casey bends under their weight. When it’s done, Liddy’s eyelids close and she slumps against Evan.
“It won’t hold them off for long,” Malakhi says.
Casey frowns. “Will the veil wear off?”
“Veils are only as strong as the angel who casts them.” Red’s eyes flicker to Malakhi. “When he grows too weak to suppress the darkness, it will shatter.”
“It’s true,” Malakhi says. “I am only a Messenger. And the darkness that follows Liddy from Limbo is strong and persistent. They know they are close to reaching the physical world again.”
“I’ll take her back,” Casey says. “I’ll find the light.”
“It’s too late for that. What’s coming is already coming. The only thing we can do now is fight it.” He looks at Red. “Are you ready?”
Red nods.
Malakhi turns to them. “Help her up. We need to move.”
NINETEEN
“IT’S ALWAYS THIS place,” Evan says, resigned as they pull up in front of the abandoned church.
They’re all crammed into Casey’s car: two angels. A Limbo-walker. One decaying soul. And Evan.
Red’s barely spoken since they arrived, and it makes Casey anxious as she studies the outline of the church in the reds and yellows of sunrise. It looms above them, broken but steady. This is where she first escaped this world for Limbo. It seems somewhat fitting that it should end here, too. Whatever the plan is.
“A great war between the light and dark has already been fought here,” Malakhi says. “It will be the safest place to contain what’s coming.”
Casey tries to sense what Malakhi describes, but all she can feel right now are nerves. They boil in her gut and shoot down each of her limbs.
Beside her, Liddy thrashes, growling as she yanks on the seat belt. She’s become more and more uncooperative as the veil has started to wear off. It requires both Casey and Evan to keep her from pulling on the door handle and making a break for it. Casey keeps her hand over the seat belt clip as a precaution.
“What are we actually doing here?” she says.
Red turns to her, lips thin and drawn across his face. “Waking Michael.” He pulls the keys from the ignition.
“Like the archangel?” Evan says. “The big stone guy?”
Malakhi nods as he scans the church with what Casey can describe only as trepidation. He doesn’t shudder or pale at the sight, but something about him bows in a reverent kind of fear.
Casey’s stomach leaps at the thought.
Malakhi pushes hi
s door open. “Keep hold of her or she’ll resist.”
Evan grunts. “Oh, I hadn’t noticed.”
“Let me go!” Liddy hisses as Casey steps out of the car and grabs her wrist.
“Liddy, stop,” Casey urges. “We’re trying to help you.”
“And you’re making it impossible,” Evan adds. “Like this is a whole new level of stubborn, Lids, even for you.” His grip falters as he climbs out after them, and he has to duck a swinging blow from Liddy’s fist.
“It’s the darkness,” Malakhi explains. “It gives her strength.” He takes hold of Liddy’s elbow, and Red takes her other side, their combined power enough to combat Liddy’s growing strength.
They march her up to the church like some kind of prisoner. She grows stiff between them, digging her feet into the ground.
Before they reach the side entrance, Casey catches Evan’s hand, pulling him to a stop until the others have walked out of earshot.
“You okay?” he asks her.
“Yeah. I mean, no?” She blinks. “But that’s not why I stopped you.”
“Oh?”
She sighs. “You know I’m sorry, right? For everything I said. For making you feel like I didn’t care about you or us or—”
“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry for doubting you. And for putting extra pressure on you.”
“Doesn’t matter now,” Casey says. “I just wanted to tell you that you don’t have to do this.”
“I sort of do.”
“There’s still time for you to go home.”
“Can you let me say this?” Evan’s lips tighten in an almost-grin. “Besides the fact that Liddy’s our friend, I can’t let you go it alone. I don’t know if you remember, because it was a long time ago, but it pretty much went like this. Boy plays with girl on beach. Girl throws sand in his eyes. Boy falls madly in love.”
“Madly?” she repeats quietly.
“The stupid, crazy kind. The kind that makes you do stupid, crazy things.” Evan reaches for her hand, tracing the lines on her palm with his thumb. “So if you’re waging war for Liddy’s soul, then count me in.”
“Really?”
The Dark In-Between Page 20
