The Girl In Between series: Books 1-4

by Laekan Zea Kemp

  She gently pressed a finger into the dark center. “No.” Her finger slipped free and then the bruise collapsed on itself, like a piece of paper burning into nothing.

  Sam pointed to my arm and I turned it over, exposing the inside of my elbow. Right next to the vein was a small drop of blood. I brushed it, waiting for it to disappear like Sam’s had done but it only smeared, the small cut still fresh underneath.

  I stared at it, feeling vulnerable even though I was sitting up in my own body, awake. But that was only because we’d walked here, because we’d stood over our bodies and forced our way back into them. It just didn’t make any sense. We’d woken ourselves out of the nightmare before so why couldn’t we do the same tonight? It was like I was getting stronger and weaker at the same time. Maybe the shadows were somehow doing the same.

  “What’s happening?” Sam asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you think it’s bad?”

  I stared at the wall, trying to keep my face calm. But then I saw the time on the clock—4:45 AM—and then I saw the empty love seat where Roman promised he’d sleep tonight.

  Then Sam said the very words I was thinking. “I think it’s bad.”

  32

  Roman

  I kept my head low, listening. A few of the men were speaking English but other dialects and languages were pinging within the walls of the truck. They were laughing. Someone was relaying something like a joke in a high-pitched voice. Someone else bent down, whispering something menacing in my ear, then laughter again.

  After a few hours we finally rolled to a stop and when the truck door fell open I saw the sun. Vogle was finally starting to stir, but not enough that he tried to fight back as they led us down the tailgate. He stumbled, in a haze, but before I could reach for him someone was pushing me toward an open door.

  The house was surrounded by nothing but trees for miles; even the road we’d come in on was just a muddy strip of grass leading nowhere.

  “Where are we?” I asked

  A bald man with a dirty face and a harsh accent gripped my shoulder before throwing me onto the floor of the main room.

  I landed hard, pain sparking in my knees, and it only reminded me that I was weak. Despite what Vogle had shown me, despite all of those sessions with Craig, there were still parts of me that hadn’t healed, not completely. What good was a killer left hook if I couldn’t run once they were down? I couldn’t run. I’d promised my dad that I would be careful, that he wouldn’t lose me again. But now I was face down in an abandoned house surrounded by a group of strangers who could overpower me in a minute, probably less.

  I gritted my teeth and tried to roll, examining the room. It was mostly empty except for a card table in the center surrounded by a few crates. The windows were all boarded up, thin shards of sunlight cutting across the bare concrete floor. It was cold.

  They tossed Vogle down next to me and the impact finally seemed to wake him. He rolled, blinked, found my face.

  “What the—?”

  “Who’s doing the honors?” the bald man grunted, kicking at the soles of Vogle’s boots.

  “Easy now.” Another man stepped forward and when I finally found the gall to look up he was staring down at me, arms crossed. One deep scar climbed up the right side of his face, left hand grazing it as he stroked his chin. Just between his forefinger and thumb there was swirl of ink—an infinity sign. He nodded to the bald man. “Have at it, Andre.”

  Andre gripped my shoulders and I felt the heat immediately, not just mine but his. His veins stiffened, churning from black to red through his skin and it took everything in me to hide the fact that my own insides were doing the same. He drove the heat down inside me, trying to chase something awful out. I gritted my teeth, a sweat breaking out across my forehead.

  “Let the boy go!” Vogle was panting next to me, a woman with a long grey-streaked ponytail gripping him the same way Andre was gripping me.

  “All clear.” Andre finally let go. “Valentina?”

  The woman let go of Vogle. “The old man’s empty. All yours, Michael.”

  The man with the infinity sign tattoo who seemed to be running the show reached down and pulled me to my feet. “Anything broken?” His accent suddenly struck me, strange and subtle, though I couldn’t decipher it. “Andre here likes to play rough. Don’t let him give you shit.”

  I straightened, confused. One second I’d thought we were prisoners and now this guy was telling me not to take my captor’s shit.

  He seemed to sense it and said, “Don’t shit yourself. We’re not going to hurt you.”

  “Then what do you want with me?”

  Vogle got to his feet, clutching his head. We were back to back as more people filled the room: a man missing two bottom teeth jangling the truck keys against his leg, a girl who looked about my age with a black eye and a knife strapped to her waist. I lost track as more bodies pushed through, men and women, all dirty, all staring right at me.

  “Let the boy go,” Vogle said again, taking a step back until his heel caught on the back of my shoe. “Whatever you want with me he has nothing to do with it. Just let him go.”

  Michael shook his head. “Can’t do that, boss.”

  “And why the hell not?” Vogle spat, heat pouring from him as I flinched.

  “Calm down,” Michael said. “No need to burst into flames.”

  A few people laughed, which only made Vogle angrier and me more anxious. What did they know?

  “Listen, like I told the boy, we’re not going to hurt you. We just want to—”

  There was a crack and the door burned to ash, a giant hole blown right through it.

  “Run!” Vogle yelled, pushing me towards it.

  But I only took one step before Andre got both arms around me, a man with a long beard lifting my feet off the ground and binding my ankles. I kicked, heat pricking at my skin. But the chains were made of some strange metal, the links burning white but never melting off.

  Vogle was on his knees, the wind just kicked out of him, as the same chains were wrapped around his wrists. They sizzled and cracked but they didn’t break.

  “Where do you want them, Michael?” the man with the long beard asked. His fingers were covered in thick rings, strange symbols carved into the metal. They bit into my forearm as he tried to hold me still.

  Michael snapped a finger. “Chairs. Tie them up, Charles.”

  They tied chains from our cuffs to the chair legs as Michael paced from one end of the room to the other.

  “That’s quite an arm you’ve got there,” he said, nodding to Vogle.

  “What do you know about it?”

  Michael bent over us, fire suturing his skin, face crackling like lava. “More than you.” He cooled, veins receding. “Now, are you going to try to burn the house down again or are you going to listen to what I have to say?”

  “You just want to talk?” Vogle scoffed.

  “Now that we know you’re not being sucked dry by an evil parasite. Unfortunately those gruesome shadows have been hijacking a few of our own.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I said.

  “It means we got to the two of you just in time.”

  “So that’s why your friends here just tried to burn us alive?” Vogle said.

  Michael winked. “Just a precaution.”

  “And what do you call these?” Vogle said, shaking the cuffs they’d put on us. “You take these off and I’ll consider hearing what you have to say.” Vogle was too rattled to be bargaining for our lives but what else could he do?

  “I don’t like ultimatums,” Michael said.

  “And I don’t like being kidnapped!” Vogle yelled.

  “Kidnapped or having your life saved? That swarm was about to attack, taking you and your little sidekick with them.”

  “I’m not his sidekick,” I cut in.

  “Then what are you?”

  You tell me, I wanted to say. I could tell that he knew something
, something we didn’t, and all I wanted was for Vogle to shut up long enough for Michael to tell us what it was.

  “He’s got no part of this,” Vogle said, cutting in again.

  Michael tore my hands out of my lap, my fists glowing.

  “Oh, he’s got more than a part. This kid’s ready to explode.”

  I stared past him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He narrowed his eyes but in an instant they softened as he said, “I believe you.”

  “Then let him go,” Vogle said again.

  I shot him a look—I wanted answers—but he didn’t see it.

  Michael ignored Vogle, keeping his gaze trained on me. “Do you want to know?”

  “Know what?”

  “What you are?” The smirk was gone. Now he was kneeling in front of me. “Do you want me to tell you?”

  I nodded.

  He cocked his head, gaze suddenly intense. Then he said, “A fucking unicorn.”

  The room erupted in laughter. My cheeks burned and then the rest of me was burning too. I raised my shackled fists and a flame caught Michael on the chin. He jerked, still laughing.

  The room shrunk in an instant, the group cinching us in on all sides. Flashes of gold shone behind some of their eyes, sparks skittering down from long shirtsleeves as bright red veins surged to the surface. I realized that whatever was in me was in them too. All of them.

  “Relax,” Michael said, getting to his feet. “We’re just fucking around.”

  “You might be playing games but we’re the ones in shackles,” Vogle reminded him. “I want an explanation and I want it now.”

  Michael stuffed his hands in his pockets, glancing back at the men standing behind him, and then he said, “We’re Rogues.”

  “Rogues?” Vogle repeated.

  “We’re meant to come in pairs,” Charles added, spinning one of the rings on his left hand. “I assume you’ve gathered that much.”

  Pairs. I examined the room again, the faces around me suddenly darker and I couldn’t help but think of Bryn.

  Michael knelt down in front of me again. “What’s her name?”

  I hesitated but I knew Michael could see in my eyes that I understood exactly what he was asking me. “Bryn.”

  “Bryn. How sweet.”

  I waited for someone to laugh again, for the room to buzz with ridicule but everyone was quiet and suddenly paled.

  “But she’s still alive,” Michael said.

  “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “I can see it.” He turned to Vogle. “Yours isn’t.”

  “Is that why you were following me?” Vogle asked.

  “Perceptive,” Michael said. “How long have you known we were there?”

  “Two months,” Vogle said. “Not counting the time I was in the States.”

  “Right. We lost you for a little while there. Thought maybe you’d gone into hiding until you showed up at the hospital a few months ago. Guess you weren’t afraid of what exactly was after you?”

  “Figured it couldn’t be worse than me,” he said.

  Michael nodded. “Not much is. We’ve figured out that much.”

  “And what else have you figured out?” Vogle said.

  “That that’s not enough anymore. Whatever we are, it’s not enough. Not for what’s happening now.”

  “What’s happening?” I said.

  Michael looked away, every head in the room bowed.

  Andre seemed to notice Michael struggling and he suddenly spoke. “They’re disappearing.”

  “They,” I said, my mouth dry. “You mean like Bryn?”

  Vogle cast me a harsh look, warning not to reveal too much but I had to know.

  “We’re what’s left,” Charles added. “The other piece of the puzzle. Well, so far at least. We know there are others out there.”

  Michael took a step back, gesturing to the group. “What you see here is the result of a decade’s worth of searching. It took me almost two years just to find Charles here.”

  “I was living in the sewers in Italy,” Charles said.

  “And Valentina here…took five years searching Buenos Aires on foot before she finally showed herself.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I was being chased by three psychopaths in matching leather jackets. What did you expect?”

  “Oh yeah, we looked like Greasers,” Charles said.

  “Fuck you, Charles.” The man on the other side of her who was missing two teeth shrugged. “I liked those jackets.”

  “And by now they’re probably floating in the Arctic Ocean where they belong,” Valentina said.

  “Can you get back to explaining what all of this is about?” I pressed. Michael eyed me, making me more anxious, but I wasn’t going to back down. “The truth,” I said.

  Michael gripped his chin and for a second, the light carving across the dark circles under his eyes, he looked pained. “The truth,” he said. “All of it. Should I start from the beginning?”

  Vogle raised an eyebrow. “You said all of it.”

  “Fine. But you’ll get the shortened version of my origin story. I’m pretty sure it’s not that much different from yours.” He finally settled in a chair. “I met Darina when I was seventeen years old. We grew up in a small rural village in Bulgaria. It took four days for me to fall in love with her and six months later she was gone.” He met my eyes. “A rather disturbing record you probably don’t want to break seeing as you’ll be living in this purgatory without her for the next lifetime.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that we’ve all been sent here to fulfill a mission. In other words, we’re not men but weapons, and the temporarily indestructible kind. The kind that don’t wither or dull until we’re ripe into our old age and our Dreamer has been delivered to a painless and natural death safe and sound.”

  Temporarily indestructible? My eyes found Michael’s infinity tattoo, the faintest light winding beneath the loops. I swallowed and my saliva was made of thorns, the blood in my veins starting and stalling as I tried to make sense of what he was saying. But all I could think about was that night alone in my car, tearing down that empty street. Letting go of the wheel. Wanting to die. That’s what I had wanted more than anything and according to what Michael had just said it was something I could never have as long as Bryn was alive.

  Bryn. It wasn’t just her kiss that had woken me out of that coma. It was her very presence, her existence in this world.

  I regained my focus as Andre said, “But that was before…”

  Michael gripped his chin. “Yes, before those soul-sucking parasites created a loophole in which they began trapping the Dreamers in one purgatory and leaving us to rot in another. See, a long time ago there used to be rules. Our one job was to protect the Dreamer, to keep him or her alive, and as a result we’d be doing the same for ourselves. That’s how deeply intertwined our fates are. But something’s changed in the past few decades and more Dreamers than ever have been disappearing…and dying. Except we haven’t been dying with them.”

  “But that’s…” Impossible. Everything he was saying was impossible.

  “The truth,” Michael finished. “Ready for some more? Before Darina died strange things were happening—farms flooding, the scalding sun burning crops to ash, snowstorms that left people frozen to death in their beds. Darina had trouble controlling her ability at first; for the longest time she thought they were just dreams, but when people realized the connection between Darina’s strangeness and the strange things that were happening in the village, it wasn’t long before our entire town was on a witch-hunt.

  “But strange things were happening to me too.” Michael lifted a hand, light fluxing under his skin like sunlight dancing on water. “Only I found out too late exactly why. One night Darina was attacked in her bed and the shadow had drawn her into such a deep sleep that she was helpless as one of the local priests and his minions tied her up over a pyre. That night the
y burned her alive and then as the village slept, I burned them alive too.”

  The room was scoured by the silence, every gaze pinned to the floor.

  Michael didn’t seem too comfortable there and he cleared his throat. “After that I wandered all over Europe, spending the last decade driving myself mad and scouring the earth for witches and necromancers and serial killers, anyone who might be able to finally end it. But nothing worked. Unfortunately, Lathan was accustomed to keeping an eye out for strange travellers on a relentless suicide mission and it didn’t take him long to find me. I was getting into a bar fight with that idiot in the corner.”

  Andre grinned. “And this asshole didn’t realize the whole thing was staged.”

  “Lathan took me out of there and into the group and now I’m playing head honcho in his stead while he tracks down more Rogues.”

  “I thought you said you were going to keep this origin story short,” Valentina groaned.

  “Exactly, which is why I didn’t mention the riot I started in Prague, or the time I tried to incinerate myself in that volcano, or the countless other ways in which I tried to kill myself. Oh, or the madams in Amsterdam, I didn’t mention them or that hit man who chased me through South America, or even how I got to South America in the first place by smuggling myself onto that ship in pursuit of that ancient tribe who supposedly had some immortal killing elixir.”

  “Except that you sort of just did,” Valentina said.

  “Well, then,” Michael shrugged, “I guess you got the long version after all.”

  “So…” I shook my head, trying to untangle my thoughts. “None of you can die? As in…never?”

  Michael grunted. “Figured you’d get hung up on that part. As of now, yes, we’re trapped on this particular plane of existence.”

  “Until?”

  “Until we figure out why the Dreamers are disappearing, where they’re going, and how to stop it.”

  “And why they’re being brought out of hiding sooner,” Valentina added.

  “Out of hiding,” I said. “You mean people like us, people like Bryn?”

  “Yes,” Michael said. “They, being some infinite celestial force from the great beyond which we haven’t quite tracked down yet and hiding as in filtering our abilities through dreams that seem to finally become more than dreams around our eighteenth birthdays.”