“But, you’re okay?”
Aidan bared teeth as he grumbled. “It’s just a scrape.”
“No need to get all macho on us, Aidan,” I whispered.
He narrowed a pointed stare at me before testing his leg. He could walk on it easier if he used Read for support, otherwise it was a slow and visible limp. “Nora,” he said, looking down, “this isn’t some fancy, happy story where if we work together everything will work out. We’d be naive to think that. Instead, let’s focus on getting out alive, huh?”
I blinked in surprise. I was being naive?
I wasn’t sure how to respond when the glacial eyes met mine.
Uncertain, I offered to walk on Aidan’s other side so he could brace himself between Read and me, but Aidan refused.
Hurt, I backed away.
It made me feel awkward and estranged from the two of them, as if I were the outsider.
Falling back a few steps, I let them move ahead and kept a watch behind us. I didn’t need his judgment right now. I looked to Read but found no support.
“It’s about time,” Read said.
To our left was a darkened alley littered with garbage, but beyond all the discarded rubble and shadows was our salvation.
In the center of the alley was a wooden fence that had to be eight-feet tall between the two stone apartment buildings. Within the fence was a black door, illuminated from the light of a first floor apartment.
“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t dream, Read,” Aidan said as we wove our way around the dumpsters and strewn cardboard boxes.
Read smirked, flashing his ridiculously white teeth. “Yeah, you two are messed up.”
Story of my life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The door slammed shut behind us.
The bang rang in my ears long after the door disappeared, leaving purple and black striped wallpaper.
Read muttered, “Is this where Goths come to die?” He nudged me.
We stood at the edge of an oak table that was almost too big for the dark dining room.
Illuminating the space was a black candelabra situated on a white doily that took up most of the table. A matching oak cabinet was stuffed in the corner, encasing dark-colored dishes, vases and goblets. There was barely enough room to sidle around the table and chairs.
The only escape was an archway leading to a dark, could-be-kitchen.
Distracted from the decor, I saw Read help Aidan into the high-backed chair at the end of the table.
Easing into a sitting position, Aidan gripped the armrests hard and stretched out his injured leg gradually with a sigh of relief.
Read stepped back and I rounded the chair. My hip brushed the wall before I crouched to inspect Aidan’s leg. I had to squint to make out the gravel-infested divots.
Aidan’s lips creased in what could have been a smile…or maybe a grimace. “God forbid there be anything bright and peppy around here.”
Read grinned. “It’s Mary Poppins’s house on depressants.”
I hummed A Spoonful of Sugar before rolling a rock free from Aidan’s punctured skin.
The boys snickered until Aidan jolted in his chair in pain.
“Alcohol abuse jokes aside…” I plucked larger chunks of rock and pavement from the wound, hearing them sprinkle the carpet. “I need to wash this out.”
Aidan hissed through his teeth, “Do you know what you’re doing?”
I shook my head. “No,” I answered truthfully, “but at least I’m trying.” Resentment gurgled just below the surface. What if he couldn’t run without one of us carrying him? This could kill us all and he had the nerve to ask if my help was worth it?
Standing, I avoided his eyes so he wouldn’t see the anger and turned to the only doorway in the room.
From where I stood it appeared to be a kitchen though there were no lights other the candelabra to prove otherwise. “Be right back,” I grumbled. Then I added, “Don’t wander off.”
Aidan snorted, though it didn’t sound sarcastic, rather amused.
Read followed me to the doorway and leaned against it so he could watch us both.
The room wasn’t very big and to my relief, there was a lantern on the nearest counter. The flame had been drawn down low, making it difficult to see the rest of the room.
Ducking so my face was inches from the tin base, I adjusted the gas lever the way we’d done back at the Victorian house, and the flame rose to life. Blinking back the dancing dots, I snagged the metal handle and lifted it above my head.
It was a kitchen alright, with raspberry counter-tops, black cupboards and an island where the lantern had been sitting.
Rounding the cupboard, I opened a stiff drawer in search of a rag, dishtowel, paper towel; anything to help remove the gravel. The first drawer held thick butcher knives. One was splattered with a dark crust.
Shoving the drawer closed, I heard the utensils clattering together. What the hell had been chopped up in this kitchen? Paranoid, I turned around in a full circle. No other door was visible in the room. There was a window over the sink behind thinning curtains. The only other doorway was where Read watched me. “What is it?” He asked, jutting his chin in a nod.
“Nothing,” I lied.
The kitchen was a mess. Pots lined the cupboards near the window. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling and some of the leaves had sprinkled the raspberry counter.
“Is Aidan still in there?” I asked past the lump in my throat.
Read nodded, arms crossed over his thin chest.
“What?” Aidan’s voice came from the dining room. He was just out of my line of sight, which made me nervous.
“Just making sure you haven’t run away,” I said and went to the next drawer revealing broken bottles and a moldy pancake.
“Oh har-har, funny,” Aidan said. “What’s taking so long?”
Read pushed away from the doorway. “I’ll help.”
I sighed, not wanting Read to lose sight of Aidan, and opened the next drawer. It had dish towels decorated with red flowers. “I got it,” I drew the towel out, waving it like a flag, keeping Read in place. I pivoted on my heels to face the sink. The motion made me well aware of the tightness in my swollen knee.
With the help of the lantern, I inspected the swelling. It didn’t seem to be getting any worse, but it wasn’t any better either. The continuous throb I felt from the heat of the bike was gone again, leaving a faint stiffness in my skin. Maybe that meant the poison was going away. Not all scorpions’ stings were fatal to humans after all. I should count my lucky stars, if I had any left.
Lifting the lantern back over my head I saw the sink was brimming with dirty pots and pans. As I turned to say something to Read, my foot slid on something slick. Yelping, I swung both arms out and caught the island with my free hand. The lantern emerged unscathed.
As I righted my balance, my somewhat steadier foot supported all my weight.
Following my elephantine display of stealth, Aidan called uncertainly. “Is everyone okay?”
Read was around the counter in seconds and grabbed my elbow to help me stand straight again. I lifted the flickering lantern to see the floor near the sink. There was a strange lime-colored liquid. It reminded me of dish soap.
“I’m ok,” I call backed to reassure Aidan. “I just slipped in…goo.” I wiped my defiled sneaker on the cupboard.
“What the hell is that?” Read leaned over and stared, palms propped on his thighs.
Tip-toeing past it, I muttered. “I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”
Jerkily, I twisted the tap and green water burst from the spout. Reeling back a few steps in disgust, I managed to avoid the goo, but dropped the towel onto the floor. The backs of my knees banged into something solid, making a gong-like sound. Already moving too fast, I had little time to react.
The lantern was flung over my head as I toppled backwards.
Shrieking my butt hit part of the mysterious bubble behind me and I slid
down the slope onto my back. The lantern’s glass shattered a few feet above my head and darkness shrouded the kitchen. My feet were propped up on the rounded object, my shoulders on the floor.
As the initial shock subsided, I groaned. The developing bruises from the books reminded me of their presence.
“Jesus, Nora,” Read chuckled.
“What happened? Are you guys okay?” Aidan called from the dining room.
“Yeah, just a sec dude,” Read shouted back. “Just have to pick up our resident klutz…” After a heartbeat he added, “…again.”
“Shut up, Read.” I wriggled until my butt hit the linoleum floor.
What else could go wrong? I felt awkward and embarrassed. I had my clumsy moments, but this was becoming ridiculous.
Swinging my legs, Read grabbed my arm and his hand squeezed.
“But a cute klutz, right?” I tried to tease.
“Always,” Read said and started to pull me up when he paused. “Nora, stand up.”
Through the window’s curtains a dim light began to wax, like the moon was emerging from the clouds. I could see enough to make out the overturned cauldron.
“Holy shit!” I spat, grabbing wildly for the counter. If it wasn’t for Read’s grip on my arm I might have fallen again. There wasn’t much hope that Read would be able to lift me. He wasn’t the strong-type, he was—as he often boasted to anger Phoebe—an endurance-type. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wonder if this were true or not.
“Guys?” Aidan called.
Read eased his grip on my arm before letting me go. “Yeah, so, let’s get another rag and…”
Water spilling over the counter, onto the floor stopped him cold. I hadn’t turned off the faucet.
With the help of the island I hopped over the large pot, avoiding the goo and fumbled for another towel. The water from the tap wasn’t green—according to the moonlight—and I soaked the towel through.
“Guys?” Aidan repeated, his voice strained.
I turned off the tap but the water kept spewing. Twisting it in the opposite direction didn’t seem to help either. The water flowed unhindered, it neither increased nor decreased in pressure.
“Just leave it,” Read whispered.
“Guys!” Aidan called more sharply.
Dancing back to avoid the water that snaked along the linoleum, I made it around the island with Read following close.
“Guys, there’s something you should see,” Aidan insisted.
Read darted into the dining room in three steps.
I wrung out the towel as best as I could and hurried behind Read.
There was nothing out of the usual at first glance. Aidan was twisted in his chair to look behind with his leg still extended toward us. “This probably isn’t a good thing,” Aidan said, not looking back.
Slapping the wet dish towel onto the table I slowed my step. Did I really want to see this?
Gripping the back of Aidan’s chair I stretched to see past him.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the extra light from the candles. I froze as I could make out the outline of a plump body on the floor.
It was an old woman from what I could tell. Lying face down, she was dressed in a dark cloak, her long, greasy, white hair splayed around her matted skull like a batch of snakes. When Read had pushed me back to help Aidan into the chair, she would have been a mere foot away from my sneakers.
Aidan stood up on his own using the table for support. “Do you recognize that person?”
“No. You?” I lowered my voice along with his. “Read?”
Read shook his head. “Why is she here?”
I motioned to the kitchen where we had left the cauldron. “She’s a witch,” I said.
“A witch?” Aidan cried, he wasn’t whispering anymore. “Considering she’s dead, she can’t be a bad one.”
To the corpse Read asked, “Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?”
“Read,” I rolled my eyes.
Aidan opened his mouth to say something then seemed to change his mind.
Read gestured to Aidan and me. “We have to clean out your leg before anything spontaneous happens.”
I took one step and felt the carpet squish under my sneaker, sounding soggy and wet. We all looked down to see the carpet was soaked. The water had already seeped into the dining room.
“That’s impossible,” Read cried,” it would take a couple of hours for that little sink to flood the dining room.”
Aidan hobbled in a half turn. “If time doesn’t exist here, why should physics?”
Taking the towel from the table, I ordered Aidan to sit back down. “Bring your leg up so I can see. We have to be fast.”
Dropping into the high-backed chair he propped his foot up on the table. “Shouldn’t we be getting out of here?”
“We might not get a second chance to clean this,” I replied and dabbed at the scrape with the towel, not concerned with hurting him anymore. The important thing was to get him able to run and at least prolong an infection.
“Read?” I asked, not looking up, “is there a way out other than that stupid window?”
Aidan leaned forward carefully and ripped the exposed threads near the hole, making it bigger for me to see. His thigh had taken the brunt of the fall. I was no doctor, but it almost seemed deep enough to need stitches.
With shaky hands, I picked out glistening chunks of glass, rock and clumps of dirt while Read paced the two rooms, kicking up the water as it rose high enough to squish water between my toes in socks.
When I was finished I turned the dish towel around and put the clean side to his skin.
The water was warm around my ankles.
I fumbled in tying the towel around Aidan’s leg. During my third failed attempt, Aidan stole the cloth and tied it expertly into a knot. “Spent a year on a yacht,” he answered my expression.
Rolling my eyes, I snapped. “Could have told me instead of watched me.” I wasn’t really angry at him, but the demand to get out was weighing heavier.
Snatching Aidan’s wrist, I jerked him hard to his feet. The water had almost reached my knees, churning and swirling faster around my legs.
We trudged through the water, encumbered by the new current. Long, slow strides led us to the doorway and into the kitchen. Read grabbed my wrist leading the way. I reached back and took Aidan’s cool hand. By the time we reached the doorway, the water had risen half-way up my thighs.
Read gestured to the window just above the sink. “That’s the only possible exit.”
The curtains were opened wide enough to reveal the jagged glass, like someone had thrown a rock through it.
“There wasn’t any glass on the floor when we had been in here before,” Read said, gritting his teeth as he fought for another step, “I think it was broken from the inside.”
A chill ran down my back, or maybe it was sweat. “We’d have heard it break,” I protested.
Read tugged on my wrist. “It’s the only way we can go.”
He was right; we’d have to risk it. I gave him an apologetic wince and we battled the flood.
Making our way around the island, I pushed Aidan toward the window. Terrifying images of someone grabbing my ankles in the deepening water plagued my imagination, but I didn’t want him lagging behind.
Aidan looked back at me, eyebrows pinched. “You should go first.”
“Go,” I insisted with enough authority to make him step closer to the sink. Despite my previous animosity, I’d feel pretty damn bad if he were swept away in the water.
“Yeah, you two argue,” Read said then climbed onto the cupboard as if to finish his sentence with, While I do something smart and get out of here. With a cast-iron pan he knocked out the last loose bits of glass. Upon closer inspection I could see blood on one of the jagged little pieces reflect in the moonlight.
Read eased through the window, careful not to cut himself. His shirt rode up to his armpits while he e
scaped feet first. If the water around my hips wasn’t so distracting, I might have paid attention to that.
I struggled to stay upright as an undercurrent picked at my ankles, pulling my feet up whenever I wasn’t focused.
Read turned back around to help Aidan through.
“Just go!” I shouted at his second glance back.
With the water around my waist we didn’t have time to play the polite game. Standing was becoming a pain. I stumbled, gripping the cupboard to keep from drifting. Part of me wanted to let go and float—see where the strange river would take me—though I knew it would separate us and I’d be in the same predicament as Phoebe, Robin, and Cody.
Aidan pushed himself up onto the cupboard, wobbling before sitting at the edge of the counter. His legs kicked at the clutter of dishes and pans in the kitchen sink.
Read beckoned Aidan forward. “Put your feet through,” he instructed. It felt like forever, though it probably lasted less than a minute for Read to help Aidan slide out without any injures. They tried to avoid dragging him against the edge, which still sheltered a few rogue shards.
The water slapped against my stomach.
I was beginning to lose my footing. The current was able to lift my left foot completely off the floor and it took all my balance and stubbornness to get it back down. As I gripped the flat kitchen counter, my fingers cramped, desperate for something with more purchase.
“Alright, quick Nora!” Aidan reached his arms through the window for me.
Eager, I let go of the counter, aiming to snatch his hands.
Our fingers brushed when the current yanked my feet behind me.
Pitching forward, I screamed but it was cut short and I gargled water instead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Feeling a hard floor at my back, I wheezed a harsh breath and opened my eyes.
The ceiling above my head had vaulted upward with cracks allowing in fresh air.
No water, no kitchen, no fear.
Glancing to the window I saw the moonlight had faded. I wanted to sit up, but couldn’t bring myself to move. The beauty of being safe was something to savor.
I took a deep breath. The air moved my chest up and down. What a relief. I took another and another until my hand touched one of the chairs sitting back to back in the circular room.
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