by Casey Hays
“Frankie?”
She tilts her head, scolding.
“Did you truly think I’d fall for all that business about your going away with Kane’s family?”
Frankie drops her bag and tackles me in a hug. Confusion rumbles. I connect with Kane over her shoulder.
“Apparently, that’s the story my parents left behind in Carson City.” A sense of admiration at their cleverness laces this statement. “And it’s a good thing I went down for ice cream. This crazy girl was planning to camp out by the elevator until she spotted a familiar face.
“Not practical, I know. But discretion was a must.” Frankie holds me at arm’s length. “But look at you! You’re brighter than the dawn.” She tugs on the vest. “What’s this?”
“Frankie…” I say her name again, my arms loose around her waist, astonishment intact. “How in the world did you find us?”
“Deductive reasoning.” She adjusts her glasses, peering through them at me like this is the most logical answer.
“But… how?”
Kane jabs another spoonful of ice cream through his grin. He seems to think this is the funniest thing.
“Honestly, Jude. What do you think Rylin and I discussed while you were snoozing in the backseat all the way to Portland?”
“Well, I didn’t think he was spilling about the Fireblood safe house.”
“Let’s just say I had questions about Ademov; he had answers. And I do have a way of extracting information as we all know.” She plasters a proud grin to her freckled face, owning her interrogator status. “He was an excellent interview, by the way.”
“That’s it?” I mumble, taken aback. He told me nothing about this place until he practically had to. “You had questions, and he just told you everything?”
“Not at first. We were at least two and a half hours past Klamath Falls before I pried it out of him. Obviously, I was already in the know, and he knew this.” She pushes a curl away from her cheek. “Plus, I proved my trustworthiness; he needed a confidante, and I make a pretty good listener.”
That is one area in which I can’t argue. Frankie never breaks confidence. Clearly, Rylin sensed this in her, and more than anyone, Frankie deserves to be a part of this. Still, I worry about her knowing too much—as always.
“When I couldn’t get a hold of you, I assumed Rylin had convinced you to come to the safe house in Vegas instead of going to the disciplinary hearing. So… here I am.”
“So… you know… everything?” I wince. “You know about how Kane’s parents—” I cut my words short, glancing at Kane. Maybe I’ve said too much.
“Redirection?” Frankie finishes my thought. “Yes. I know.”
“Oh, wow.” My lungs deflate. “Okay. We’re so sorry about that.”
“Don’t be.” She waves me off. “It was a necessity at the time. I’d have done the same thing.”
“So…” I relax at her words. “We have nothing to hide from you?”
She grins. “My honorary Fireblood status is at its pinnacle.”
“You know about Kane… compelling your father to find my brother?”
“I know everything.”
“Jude…” Kane chuckles. “She knows.”
“Okay,” I laugh and hug her close. You don’t know how relieved I am that she’s here. My very first partner in crime on our trek toward the world of the Vatra u Krvi.
“So…” Frankie scoops up my melting ice cream off the end the bar and digs the pink plastic spoon in. “When do I get to meet Petra Ademov?”
She takes a bite, crunching down on a pecan; I flick a knowing look toward Kane. It was only a matter of time before the true reason for Frankie’s visit came to light. Not that the rest of us aren’t important, but we are talking about Amir Ademov’s granddaughter here. Kane smiles around his pink plastic spoon.
“I don’t know,” I hesitate. “I’m not sure Kane was even supposed to bring you up here.”
“That will be easily remedied,” Frankie assures. “I could be of use here.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm-huh. I wrote a paper on dream analysis last year for my psychology class at UNLV.”
I’m not so sure that’s going to be enough to allow our stowaway to remain on board. She’s simply one more teenager whose parents will soon be looking for her. One more liability likely to expose the underground Fireblood lab that Petra has worked so diligently to keep secret for the past twenty years. So I’m pretty sure Frankie’s research in dream analysis isn’t going to win her any brownie points right off.
“So where is Rylin anyway?” Frankie eyes the door to the adjoining suite. “Next door?”
“He was across the hall from my suite,” Kane offers. He drops his empty ice cream cup into the trash and rinses his hands under the faucet. “But he left.”
“He left?” She drops the spoon into the carton. “Where did he go?”
I exchange a cautious glance with Kane. Frankie doesn’t know everything.
“He went to the disciplinary hearing and never came back.” Kane’s voice carries a small air of bitterness, but Frankie doesn’t notice. Her shock that he’s not here overshadows this.
“Is he coming back?”
“We don’t know.”
“But why would he go to the hearing?” Confusions wrinkles up her forehead. “He had every intention of talking you out of going.”
“His dad made him go,” I answer. “And we haven’t heard from him since.”
Frankie’s confusion converts to a small fear that bounces right back at me full force. Like a dodge ball punching me in the stomach.
“You haven’t heard from him in two days?”
“No.”
“Well, shouldn’t you be looking for him?” Frankie hones in on Kane. “He told me about the Contingent. If they have him—”
“Calm down, Frankie.” Kane flings a dish towel over his shoulder and gives Frankie’s arm a tiny punch, but she’s just verbalized my worst fears. “We’re working on it.”
“No offense, but it appears you’re doing nothing based upon my observations.”
“We have a plan.” I tap the vest a couple of times, holding my nerves at bay. “This little contraption is part of a sleep monitor. I’m going to invite Rylin into my dream tonight.”
Frankie thinks this through, and a small smile slips in.
“Now that is a brilliant idea.” Her smile quickly fades. “He’s in trouble, isn’t he? It’s why you’re doing this.”
“I think so,” I whisper. I hate admitting it out loud, but the longer he’s gone, the more prominent the fear becomes.
“Can I help?” Her eyes light up at the prospect of contributing somehow.
“Actually, this may sound strange, but sometimes, I’m not sure if I’ve fallen asleep before I start dreaming. I could use your eyes.”
“Yes. I can do that.” She processes for a minute. “So, what is it you’re planning to do exactly? If you make contact?”
“Find out where he is.” My eyes land on Kane for confirmation. “And then… go get him.”
“All right.” She digs the spoon back into my ice cream and licks it clean. “I’m in.”
“Great.”
We find him, and we go get him. A shiver trembles over me.
It sounds so simple.
Twenty-one
Frankie slips into my bathroom to prepare for bed, leaving Kane and I alone for a few minutes. Ice cream licked clean and cartons discarded, we settle on the couch. I take advantage of his full attention.
“Watch for the roses tonight.”
He stops playing with the netted design on the hem of my shirt, his pointer finger hooked through one hole and tickling the skin beneath.
“I will.”
“I’m a little scared,” I concentrate on a small, heart-shaped white spot on my thumbnail as I sort through the feelings I’ve been trying to bury all evening. “What if it doesn’t work?”
“It will,” he assures. “As long
as you focus. Remember what it feels like.”
“Just be there,” I whisper, my fingers tugging his shirt and bunching it up in my fist.
“Just let me in.” He rearranges his wings, cocooning us. “And I’ll be there.”
I release his shirt to take up a fistful of feathers. It’s all up to me. No pressure.
“Thanks for being so good about all of this. With Rylin, I mean.”
“Well, someone’s got to be there to protect you from his advances.”
“Stop it,” I laugh. He answers with a dimpled grin.
“Really though…” He grows serious, a pinch of worry igniting. “Can you invite both of us in at the same time?”
“I guess we’ll find out.” The question makes me nervous. “I’ve never tried.”
A string of silent seconds hangs between us, and then…
“Can you do me a favor?”
He shifts, resting a hand on top of mine, one thumb rubbing the heart shaped spot on my nail. I look at him. The favor he wants? It’s a big one, outlined in the emotions threading through the question. I swallow.
“I can try.”
“Find my parents? I just… if I’m there with you… I want to see them. Even just to know they’re okay.”
I see the tear just before he flicks it away.
“Yes,” I whisper. “If I can, I’ll do that for you.”
I have no idea what I’m saying, but I should know better than to get his hopes up. Because what I just promised him? I don’t know how to do that. Every bit of my plan is based on a wish and a prayer. I don’t even know if I’ll dream at all.
Frankie tromps in, her wet curls hanging damp past her shoulders. She stops short to admire Kane dressed in his wings, tall and silky, draped over the back of the couch, their tips bent just at the ends where they hit the floor.
“Go ahead, Frankie,” Kane dips his head back to catch her upside-down face in his vision. “Take a feather.”
She blinks. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he winks.
She doesn’t have to be told twice. She shuffles through his left wing and plucks the biggest feather she can find. It snaps when she pulls, and I stop breathing right along with her as Kane winces. But he shakes his shoulders, settling the feathers back into place.
“Sorry,” Frankie wheezes. “I guess I dug too deep.”
“No. You’re fine.” He presses his lips into my hair. “I’ll see you in your dreams.”
“See you there.”
He leaves a full-on kiss burning my lips and jumps up with a flutter of wings. “Night, Frankie.”
“Goodnight.” She twiddles the feather, casting prisms along the floor.
I watch Kane’s retreat, fear mounting. I talked so big in Petra’s office earlier, but… I don’t think I can’t do this. Petra outlined the whole process for me, but things are about to get real, and I’m freaking out. Fall asleep with an agenda: find Rylin. That’s my only job. But what if my sleep is as black as a starless night? What if all the preparations I’ve made fall short? What if Rylin doesn’t show up, or I can’t find Kane? What if I can’t control anything? What then?
Everything depends on me; Rylin’s life could depend on me. And when it comes right down to it, I have no idea what I’ll find behind my closed eyelids.
Frankie plops down in the spot Kane vacated. My nerves tingle. I reach into my pocket and pull out the small vial containing the two sleeping pills Petra handed me before I left the exam room today.
“I’m going to call Petra really quick.”
“Okay,” Frankie says, distracted by her new feather. I slip into the bedroom and dial Petra’s room. She answers on the first ring.
“Hi,” I say.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes. I’m about to take the pills.”
“All right.”
“I’m scared,” I whisper. A beat of silence. “And I’ve been thinking about what you said. What if I screw up? What if the Contingent finds us through my head—”
“Jude.”
I stop, my breath heavy, my fingers curled in a sweaty grip around the vial.
“You were right. You came here to learn how to control your dreams, and it’s time you hit the ground running.” I feel her smile through the phone. It’s like sunshine on my face. “I’m giving you permission to take those pills. And no pun intended, but get out of your head. Stop fretting, and let things happen. And as they happen, you’ll know what to do.”
I release a long, relieved breath, all my confidence swirling around me but not quite landing. This is all I needed to hear.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
I swallow the pills with half a bottle of water. And by the time I lie down next to Frankie, they’re already taking effect. A warmth washes through me, slowing the flow of blood in my veins, relaxing my muscles, then my bones. My eyelids droop.
“How am I supposed to sleep with that orange light buzzing off your skin?” Frankie asks, but there’s no contempt in her voice. There’s actually a hint of adoration that makes me hand her a lazy grin. Her finger traces the length of my arm; I giggle. Yep, the pills are really taking over.
“There’s a sleep mask in the drawer.” I lift one heavy hand to point. “Try that.”
The drawer opens on its brackets. A shuffling. The mattresses bounces as Frankie settles back.
“Your skin is pretty amazing, honestly.”
“Thanks,” I manage.
“By the way, you’re still awake.”
So Frankie remembered her assignment. I pat her arm, wanting to tell her how much I love her, but I’m too tired to move my lips anymore.
That’s the last thing I remember before the black wall of sleep swallows me up.
***
A fist. Banging against the door. The sound rattles the walls.
I open one sleepy eye, scanning the room. The knock comes again. I crane my neck.
“Kane?”
No answer. I drop my head back to my pillow and snuggle down. The walls rattle. More banging. I fly straight up in bed.
The room is dark, the drapes drawn. But the window behind the drapes is open. That’s odd. I don’t remember opening it. Does it even open? Far below, the sounds of traffic are barely discernable in the quiet of the suite. I’m alone in the room.
Drip, drip, drip.
Water. The faucet in the bathroom. The bathroom door is closed, the light streaming back into the bedroom through the crack underneath it. Frankie’s voice, muffled. She’s singing. It sounds beautiful. It’s her voice, but it can’t be her. Frankie can’t sing to save her life.
I slide off the edge of the bed. My bare feet land in an inch of water. Ice cold water. I look. The entire room is flooded. Drip, drip, drip.
Water runs out from under the bathroom door; Frankie sings. I draw my feet back up and hug my knees to my chest.
“This isn’t real.”
I whisper it into the darkness, and confusion pummels me. If it isn’t real, then what is it? Why am I here?
I glance at the nightstand because I’m supposed to. I see my key painted in beautiful whites and blacks, and my fingers grapple at my neck. My necklace is there. I lift it, compare it to the key on the nightstand. It’s the same.
“I don’t understand.”
I should remember something about this key. What is it?”
The key on the nightstand slips off the edge and sails toward the floor, the long chain rattling behind it. I catch it right at the end of the chain and lift it up, eye level. I study it. The piano keys begin to play my mantra.
“I remember.” I talk to the necklace. Ears sprout out of either side of it and perk up to listen. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
The ears flap like tiny, waving hands, and the key vanishes. I press a hand against my throat. No key there either. The vase of roses teeters on the edge of the nightstand. I catch it just in time and the scent fills my nostrils. I br
eathe deep.
“I know now. I’m dreaming.”
Another knock echoes through the room.
“I’m coming!”
I drop my feet with a slippery splat and wade through the water.
“Don’t, Jude.”
I stop, my hand an inch from the doorknob. “Why not?”
“Don’t open it for anyone.”
I know that voice, but I can’t place it.
“Who’s there?” I press a hand against the cool wood. A symbol appears underneath it. A star shape. I trace a finger over it. “Where did you come from?”
A single bang, and I leap backwards away from it. The star vanishes.
A rose falls from the ceiling; I catch it. It’s sopping wet and the stem is soggy, hanging limp over my palm. Drops of water drip off the petals to join the river running past my feet. The water covers my ankles now. I lift the rose to my nostrils; my mantra sings deep inside the scent. I hear Kane’s too. Faint. Beautiful. I reach out, grab it by a thread, pull it close.
“Come in, Kane.”
He manifests beside me in a burst of fire. My heart beats fast. Too fast. But he takes my hand and everything slows down. My heart, my breath, my thoughts.
“You came,” I whisper.
“You let me in.” His hazy gaze lingers over me, calm and comforting. “Now what?”
“I don’t know.”
The water is up to our knees. Kane looks to me.
“I think… you’re supposed to do something,” he says.
I blink at him. “I am?”
“It’s your dream.” He smiles.
Yes. It is my dream.
Slowly, I reach out my hand, a will on the tip of my mind. The water, climbing to our waists, ceases. It begins to decline, swirling and swirling, disappearing through a big drain that opens up in the center of the floor. Kane and I watch.
“That wasn’t there before,” I point out.
“No,” he answers. “You did that.”
“I did?” I’m astonished.
“Yes,” he smiles again, and it’s like sunshine. “It’s your dream. You can do whatever you want, remember?” He faces me, taking both of my hands in his. “What do you want now?”
“I’m supposed to do something.”
