Raphael frowns at me. “I’ll explain later. We need to get moving. They know you’re here.”
“I won’t go down there unless I know more,” I insist. “Think about it — you’re telling me there are gangs of demons underground that want to get a hold of me to kill me, and you expect me to just follow you like some stupid puppy dog?”
There’s that exasperated sigh again. He runs a hand through his hair. I’m really irritating him now.
“Okay. In short, there is a place between the human world and the underworld where souls who are confused or have unresolved issues from their mortal lives end up. Some humans call this place Limbo. We call it the Place-in-Between. The main gateway to it is directly under a city humans chose to mark the beginning of time; a city where countless tragedies have occurred over thousands of years.”
“The beginning of time?” I pause for a moment. “The Meridian Line in Greenwich? London’s above the gateway?”
He nods. “Several times throughout human history, there have been periods of extraordinary demon activity. These were times when the darker spirits were able to feed off humankind’s collective negative emotions and become very strong. During those times they were strong enough to take human form, walk the Earth, and influence events.”
“You’re speaking like a fifty-nine-year-old professor,” I say.
“I really can’t believe you’re a Seer, let alone …” he stops speaking and shakes his head. “You’re bloody impossible. Let’s go. We’re running out of time.”
He grabs my right arm and begins to guide me down the stairs, keeping me close beside him. “You need to focus on Toronto the way you left it. It’s still there in time and space. Visualize it in your mind when we get down there, Jazz. That’s how you can get back. Hold on to that image, no matter what. And remember, the demons can’t hurt you unless you believe they can.”
“And if I believe they can?” I ask.
He grimaces. “Just keep your wits about you and your fear suppressed. Negative emotions make the demons’ energy stronger, and there’s already a great amount of fear and despair being expressed by the souls that are trapped here.”
I stop and look at him. “Does this mean that Jade is stuck in the Place-in-Between? Is she a lost soul?” Tears blur my vision.
He doesn’t answer me for a moment.
“Well?” I ask.
“I don’t know everything, Jazz. What I do know is that you’re much more powerful than an average human….”
“But?” I ask. It’s clear he’s holding back. He knows more than he’s willing to admit.
“But not as powerful as you’d be with Jade,” he finishes.
“Then we need to find her, right?” I ask. “If being together will help protect me … us.”
“Unfortunately, being together down here also makes you more vulnerable. I’m not sure how or why she ended up in this place. But I do know I need to get you away from here as soon as possible.”
“What’s happening to me?” I ask him. “Am I going crazy? Is that why I’m imagining all of these messed-up things?”
We continue down the staircase.
“Absolutely not,” Raphael replies. “You’re very sane. But you’re going to need to hold on to that sanity as tightly as possible in the near future.”
“And just how near is the near future?”
He looks at me. “Right now.”
We’ve reached the main platform of the station. There are loads of people jammed into this subway station as well. They’re huddled under blankets on the tracks and along the entire length of the platform — just about anywhere there’s a bit of space to stretch out. Some people are playing cards; some are sleeping restlessly. It smells of body odour, bad breath, and stale farts. Other than the fact that we’re all hiding from Nazi bombs in Limbo, it seems like one gigantic sleepover.
A woman walks toward us, close enough for me to smell the sweet perfume she’s wearing. The scent reminds me of dying flowers. I turn my head to watch her pass. She’s quite glamorous, reminding me of an old-fashioned movie star, like Michelle Pfeiffer. She’s wearing a dress the colour of robins’ eggs. A matching, tiny pillbox hat is perched atop her wavy, red hair.
Suddenly, she stops, turns back, and looks right at me. Her gaze is so intense, it makes me feel naked. I give her a half-hearted smile, thinking maybe I annoyed her by staring. Then I notice her eyes: flat, dark, and very cold. I can’t see any pupils. They’re like the eyes of a shark I once saw in a documentary … and the eyes of the boy that took Jade away. Demon’s eyes. Raphael’s right: I have seen this creature before. The crazy thing is, it looks so human it almost blends in seamlessly with everyone else down here.
Raphael takes my hand. It’s as if he’s also seen her, though that’s impossible because he’s on the other side of me, staring straight ahead.
Then the smell and cold hit me. It’s like I’ve just stepped into a fridge full of fresh blood. That’s what the smell is. It’s the smell of butcher shops. And death. I begin to shake uncontrollably and my bladder loosens. Raphael gives my hand a firm squeeze.
His words echo in my mind: They can’t hurt you unless you believe they can.
I close my eyes for a moment and try to visualize Toronto and the subway car I was sitting in. I think about how the blue-and-red fabric of the seat felt rough against my legs when I first sat down, how the man across from me kept rhythmically tapping a pen against the metal pole in front of him, oblivious to the dirty looks he was getting from everyone around him. I want to be back there so badly.
I open my eyes again. It’s still 1943, and I’m still in a subway tunnel in jolly old Limbo-England. Great.
“Remember, it can’t hurt you unless you grant it the power to,” Raphael whispers, leaning in close. His breath on my ear sends shivers up my spine.
“Stop being afraid, Jazz. It feeds on fear. And if you become too afraid, it will be hard to leave here.”
I take a deep breath, look the woman, or whatever it is, in the eye, and smile.
“Do I know you?” I ask.
Chapter 10
In response to my question, the thing draws its lips back into a half-smile, half-snarl, revealing incredibly straight, sharp teeth, lined up in rows like soldiers ready to attack. A moment later the face changes. Like a kaleidoscope, it morphs from being human into a pointy-nosed, fox-like face without fur.
It looks just like the thing that took Jade.
That’s when I scream. I can’t help it. My screaming sets off a chain reaction; several of the children and adults around me begin to scream in unison.
“Run!” Raphael shouts.
In the split second it takes my brain to send the signal to my body that we’ve got to get out of here, the thing reaches for me. Its claws bite into the fleshy part of my upper arm, tearing the fabric of my shirt as my legs propel me forward.
“Don’t look back,” Raphael says. Though we are running as fast as possible, he doesn’t seem out of breath at all, meanwhile I can’t even manage to find enough oxygen to even reply. I figure he doesn’t expect me to anyhow. And he needn’t worry about me slowing down; there’s no way I’m going to turn back to have a look at the monster pursuing us.
We scramble down to track level, weaving our way in and around the people that are bedding down for the night. I wonder if these are souls that died during the war or ones that simply ended up stuck down here in Limbo and now have to experience the terror of the Blitz eternally. If that’s the case, do they remember their former lives? Or does being down here somehow make them forget?
Jade remembered, though. She called out to me, called my name, just as everyone began to tumble down the stairwell.
Raphael leads us deeper into the darkness of the subway tunnel. Here only a few candles flicker and it’s much, much colder. Dampness envelops me like a glove. The
re aren’t nearly as many people taking shelter this far into the tunnel, and the ones that are can’t be clearly seen. Bodies line the tunnel walls, shrouded by blankets. The light from the candles creates shadows that dance across their faces as we race by. It’s impossible to tell if they are male or female, young or old. I imagine this is what a morgue must be like.
I’m not supposed to be here, I think. This is a place for the dead.
Something grabs at me from under a blanket as I sprint by. I see the movement out of the corner of my eye, but it’s too late. Cold fingers latch onto my right ankle. Their hold is strong. My hand is wrenched from Raphael’s, and I cry out for him as I tumble down into the darkness.
“Think about Toronto,” Raphael shouts. “Visualize it in your mind!”
Tiny bursts of fireworks dance in front of my eyes as the side of my head smashes against the cold metal of the tracks.
The last thing I feel is a sharp pain reverberating through my skull before everything goes black and silent.
Cold. It’s so cold. I roll over onto my back, which sends bolts of sharp pain skipping across my brain. Someone’s groaning. It takes a couple of seconds before I realize the person groaning is me.
“It’s okay, Jazz.”
The voice is familiar. I open one eye, then the other, squinting against the bright light. Everything hurts. Above me, Raphael is barely recognizable. His face floats above mine like an angel’s. Though he’s coming in and out of focus, he’s gorgeous as usual. I smile through the pain.
“Where am I?” My voice sounds tiny and far away.
“Here’s some water for her,” a woman says. I open my eyes a bit wider. The woman, who looks to be in her early thirties, hands Raphael a bottle of water. She’s wearing loose-fitting jeans, a pair of fashionably scuffed motorcycle boots, and a black tank top. It’s definitely not a 1940s wartime outfit.
“You’re in the subway, of course,” Raphael says, twisting the clear plastic cap off the water bottle. He cups the back of my head gently, helps me sit up, and guides the bottle to my lips.
“You fainted and hit your head,” the woman says. She bends down and takes my hand. I stare at her incredibly long lashes. They nearly graze her cheekbones when she blinks.
“What? What station am I in?” I stammer.
“Bay Station,” Raphael replies. He nods at the woman. “Thanks so much for helping out. I’ll make sure she gets home. We live in the same apartment building.”
My eyes widen. We do? That’s news to me.
“Okay, then,” the woman says, straightening up. She shoots me a sympathetic smile. “Hope you feel better.”
I try to smile back at her, but it’s hard. My body feels like it has just come out on the losing end of a battle with a wild animal. Could fainting make me feel this terrible?
“Are you sure this is Bay Station?” I ask, propping myself up onto my elbows. Vertigo sweeps over me. I steady myself. “What happened to London? And that thing that was chasing me?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jazz.”
I’m fully sitting up now, watching people pass us. This is definitely Toronto. And, considering the amount of people hurrying by, it appears to be the beginning of rush hour. How long was I unconscious? I feel the back of my head. Ouch. The skin is tender and sensitive to my touch. There’s a massive goose egg forming back there.
Raphael frowns. “Maybe we should taxi over to the hospital to make sure you don’t have a concussion.”
I slowly haul myself to my feet. “How is it that you keep appearing wherever I am?”
Raphael stares at me, his expression blank. “What do you mean?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t pretend you have no idea what I’m talking about. It’s effing creepy. Are you following me? If everything is so normal, then why aren’t you in class? Why are you here?”
“It’s four o’clock, Jasmine,” he replies. “School is over. May I ask why you weren’t there today?”
It’s four o’clock? It was only ten when I got on the subway. How could six hours have passed? I was counting on getting home before Mom got back from the hospital, so I could erase any messages from the school about me being absent.
“Like you don’t know where I was,” I retort, brushing off the front of my jeans.
Raphael shakes his head. “Why would I ask you if I knew?”
“Then it’s none of your business,” I say, throwing my backpack over my shoulder. My muscles ache every time I move, but I’m not about to let him know that. “And I can find my own way home. Thanks.”
I turn and begin to walk. Every time my foot hits the ground, a thudding pain echoes through my head. I have no idea what happened to me today, but my gut feeling is that it was a whole lot more than a simple case of fainting. Raphael being here proves that. And if he’s going to act like a complete twat and pretend everything is normal, he can screw off.
“Wait,” he says, falling into step beside me.
I ignore him and move onto the escalator. It’s definitely rush hour; escalators aren’t run at other times anymore. It’s another way to conserve energy.
He grabs onto my arm and leans in close. “It’s not safe to talk about things here,” he whispers. I involuntarily shiver again. He really needs to stop doing this whisper-in-the-ear thing. It’s driving me crazy.
I turn and look directly at him. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
He glances around. No one on the escalator seems to be paying attention to our discussion. They’ve all got these stressed-out, unhappy-commuter expressions on their faces.
“The gateway somehow opened and dragged you into a place you shouldn’t have been,” he whispers. “And I don’t know if that means the gateway is allowing them into this world again, as well. But either way, we can’t take any chances until we know more.”
“So it wasn’t all a dream?” I ask, keeping my voice low. “I mean, London and those … creatures? Jade?”
Raphael gazes at me solemnly. “It definitely wasn’t a dream.”
Chapter 11
It seems that Raphael does live in my building after all. We walk back from the station because I’m not taking public transportation again until I know how it sucked me away and spat me out in Limbo.
“How long have you lived here?” I ask as he touches his thumb against the security pad on the building’s entry system.
“A little under a month.”
“Strange that I’ve never seen you,” I say. “But then strange seems to be the major theme in my life these days, so I’m not surprised.”
We walk into the front lobby. As usual it smells ripe. The stench of the day appears to be eau de body odour mingled with stale cigarette smoke. Lovely. Mr. Jones, one of the more notorious elderly tenants, is sitting in the corner, his one-eyed mop of a dog lying at his feet. Though the dog might’ve begun life white, its bathless existence has resulted in a fur coat that is permanently a gross, dirty-dishwater grey.
“Hi, Mr. Jones,” I say, plastering a smile onto my face.
He grunts at me, fumbles around in the pocket of his sweat-stained, plaid shirt, and produces a half-smoked cigarette. Shaking like a spider in a snowstorm, he wedges the cigarette between his thin lips and expertly ignites it with a plastic lighter.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Jones,” Raphael says.
“Hello, Raphael,” Mr. Jones answers. “What’s shakin’?”
“Everything’s well, thank you. What did your vet say about Toffee?” Raphael asks, walking over. I stare in disgust as he bends down to pet the dog. There’s no way I’d be touching that thing gloveless.
Then Mr. Jones does something I’ve never seen him do in all the years I’ve lived here. He smiles. His stubby teeth are nicotine yellow, and more than a few are missing, but it’s definitely a smile. All he’s ever done with m
e is grunt and stare, like I’m something nasty stuck on the bottom of his shoe.
“Jus’ like you said,” Mr. Jones replies. “The tumour is all gone. Went in expectin’ the euthanasia and walked out with a clean bill of health for ’im.” He smiles again, sucks deeply on his cigarette, and then bends to pet the dog. “Don’t understand it, but can’t thank you and your brother enough for getting us that appointment.”
“Not a worry,” Raphael says. “We love animals, and Mike didn’t want to see you unable to take care of Toffee because of vet bills. Don’t forget to bring him around on Sunday, so we can give him a grooming. Consider it a celebratory bath.”
Mr. Jones laughs. It’s a hoarse laugh, betraying years of cigarette smoking. “Did you hear that, Toffee?” he says, leaning down close to the mop of grey fur. “Not only do you get a new lease on life, but a good scrubbing, too!”
“See you Sunday, then? We’ll come by and pick her up for you,” Raphael says, with a wave goodbye before turning back to me. We walk away, leaving Mr. Jones happily sucking on his cigarette.
I punch the elevator button, and then step inside as the doors slide open. I’m relieved it’s actually working for once; the way I’m feeling, the stairs would’ve been torture.
“What’s up with you and Mr. Jones?” I ask as soon as we’re out of earshot. “The only thing in the world that cranky man cares about is his smelly dog.”
Raphael leans against the wall of the elevator. “Actually, that’s not true. What is true is that that dog is the only living creature to show unconditional love to Harvey for as long as he can remember.”
“Harvey?” I snort. “You’re on a first-name basis?”
Raphael raises an eyebrow at me. “If you would only pay closer attention, you’d know all these things for yourself. You’ve built up so many defences since Jade disappeared. And now, with everything that’s happening, those defences are proving dangerous.”
“You keep giving me mysterious lectures,” I say as we step out of the elevator and into the shadowy light of the hallway. “Can’t you tell me more than just to think clearly and not be negative?”
Finding Jade Page 5
