The Gathering Dark (25 page)

Her mother took a shaky breath on the other end of the phone. Keira had to finish dealing with this. Now.

“I love you too, Mom. Thanks for understanding.”

She hung up before her mother could start sobbing. Keira wasn’t sure she could have held on to her lies in the face of that kind of breakdown, and right then, she really, really needed her mother to believe that she was safe.

Wordlessly, Walker came over and sat next to her on the bed. He wrapped an arm around her and Keira leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Well,” he said softly. “That sounded like it sucked.”

“Pretty much,” Keira said. “I’ve never really lied to my parents. Not about anything that counted. I never had to.”

“Me neither. That’s one of the only good things about losing my parents. I never had to hurt them. All the stuff I’ve done, the people I’ve used, trying to find the Experimental, to find
you
 . . . ”

Keira lifted her head and he looked down at her. Sadness pooled in his eyes.

“At least they didn’t have to see it.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

“I’m sure they would rather have been around to see it,” Keira said.

Walker looked down at their legs, pressed against one another on the bed. “After they disappeared, after they died, I was so devastated. It seemed like things would never be good again. Eventually, I quit hoping they would be. When the Reformers told me to find the Experimental at any cost, there didn’t seem to be any point in fighting it.”

Goose bumps rose on Keira’s skin. He was supposed to have dragged her Darkside to be killed. If things had been different—if the attraction between them hadn’t been like some sort of electromagnetic miracle, pulling them together—she would already be dead.

Walker’s expression mirrored her thoughts. “I never expected to find
you.
”

Keira’s lips moved toward his, her body insisting she show him how perfectly their feelings matched. For a moment, he leaned in, but then he backed away suddenly.

“We can’t.” He sounded like it hurt to say the words. “Not when it means going Darkside. You can’t get out on your own.”

“We’re at the bottom of a ravine,” Keira reminded him, her mouth tingling with the desire to kiss him.

Walker reached out and traced the shape of her bottom lip with his thumb. The longing in his touch made Keira dizzy. “I know. But each time we cross over, we put a rip in the fabric of Darkside. The more times we cross in one place, the bigger the
tear gets. The bigger the tear, the easier it is for the Reformers and their guards to trace, and—”

“The easier it is for them to find us,” Keira finished for him.

“Exactly.” He laughed.

“What?” Keira demanded. “I don’t think this is funny
at all
.”

“It’s not funny,” he agreed. “It’s horribly ironic. I’ve kissed a lot of girls I didn’t care about one bit, and now that I’ve found one I care about a great deal, I can barely touch her.”

His words were better than a kiss could have been, but that didn’t stop Keira from wanting it.

Walker stood up and paced the tiny room. “So, what do you want to do? Watch TV?” He yanked open the nightstand drawer and his eyes lit up. “Oh, look! Cards! I could teach you some tricks. . . . ”

The weight of the day came crashing down on Keira. She ached with fatigue, and her overwhelmed mind begged to shut down for a while.

“Actually, would you mind if I went to bed? You can watch TV or whatever. It won’t bother me. I need to crash. It’s been kind of an exhausting day.”

“Oh, sure. Of course,” Walker said. “It
is
pretty late.”

Keira waited.

He stared back at her, confused.

“I, um, need to take my towel off. I don’t think it’s going to work for sleeping.” The blood pounded against her cheeks.

“Oh. Right.” Walker turned around to face the curtains
that covered the window, muttering something about chivalry being better off dead.

Keira slid off the makeshift skirt and tossed it on the end of the bed before sliding between the neatly made sheets. They were thin and worn, but they smelled reassuringly of bleach and she snuggled deeper into the pillow.

“Okay,” she said, her voice already heavy with sleep. “I’m decent.”

Walker spun and looked down at her. A slow grin spread across his face. Keira’s sleepiness evaporated, leaving a pounding desire in its wake. She was instantly and acutely aware that she was lying in a hotel bed, barely dressed, with Walker staring down at her like she looked delicious.

“You are completely indecent,” he said. “But since there’s nothing we can do about that, I’m going to go take a shower.”

He will be naked in the shower,
a voice in her brain informed her. Like she needed reminding.

Keira was suddenly too hot beneath the covers, but she didn’t trust herself to move them. It might look like an invitation. It might
be
an invitation.

Walker’s face softened. The tenderness in his eyes turned her desire into something deeper—something more important. Something Keira couldn’t even bring herself to name, much less think about.

“Sleep well,” he said quietly.

“You too,” she managed to whisper. Then she shut her eyes
on him, on the room, on the screwed-up double worlds—on everything. The shower hummed to life on the other side of the bathroom door.

Keira tossed and turned on the lumpy mattress. If she’d been at home, she would have padded out to the living room and played her piano until the music pushed her thoughts aside, leaving sleep a space to slip in. But there was no piano here. Frustrated, she flopped onto her back and squeezed her eyes shut against the view of the water-stained ceiling. Her piano sprang to life in her mind. She could see every key, the gleaming wood—even the single scratch from the time her metronome fell, glancing off the piano on its way down. Just looking at her piano, even if it was only in her memory, made her feel calmer.

Her fingers began to move against the scratchy sheets, but Keira could have sworn she felt the cool, smooth faces of the keys beneath her fingertips. She played. It didn’t matter that the music was only in her head. It didn’t matter that her piano was miles away. She could feel the notes, moving through her blood, relaxing her muscles. Her thoughts quieted.

Before she could even finish the first étude, Keira’s exhaustion claimed her. Her fingers slowed their drumming and finally, she slept.

Chapter Thirty-Two

K
EIRA’S OWN SCREAM WOKE HER
.

In the darkness, it seemed entirely possible that it was real—the hooded figures, the cylindrical stone they’d pressed her neck against, the graphite-colored scythe swinging above her.

Keira struggled against the tangled covers, kicking a leg free and sitting up with a choked cry. The freezing air cut through her T-shirt.

“Keira, shhh! You’re okay.” Walker sat up next to her.

“Oh, God. It looked so real. I saw . . . I thought . . . they were going to kill me.” Her voice shook. The icy covers slithered
against her, making her quake with cold. The room had turned wintry while they slept.

Walker pulled her against him and she buried her face against his neck, wrapping her arms around his back. He was shirtless, and his skin was bed-warm beneath her fingers.

“I’m not going to let that happen.” He stroked her hair, her terror fading beneath his touch.

“I want you to teach me how to get back from Darkside on my own,” she said. He tensed, pulling away from her. In the dim glow from the digital clock, she could see him looking at her. His curls were wild with sleep.

“I will teach you. But we can’t do it until we’re ready to run. Each time we cross, we’d tear a bigger hole in Darkside. Going back and forth in one spot like that would bring the guards in a heartbeat.”

Then the nightmare wouldn’t be a nightmare anymore. It would be real.

“Tomorrow, then. I can’t be totally dependent on you to take care of me.”

“I want to protect you, but you’re right, you should be as prepared as possible. Who knows? I might even need you to save me.”

“Exactly. If I can learn to go back and forth, then I can escape if I need to. We’d be safe.”

“They do have ways of keeping you from escaping,” Walker said. The warning poisoned his voice. “We’ll never be completely safe.”

“Well. That’s a super nice thought. Thanks.” She yanked the covers straight and slithered beneath them, flipping onto her side. Away from him.

“Keira. I’m not trying to make you mad,” he said quietly.

After a long moment, she let out the breath she’d been holding. She wasn’t really angry with him. She was angry at everything; at the unsolvable situation, at the disaster it had made of her carefully planned life. Walker just happened to be there too. It wasn’t fair to blow up at him.

“I know. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” The bed shifted as he settled himself.

They lay next to each other in the dark.

“I’m sorry too,” he said.

She shivered, drawing her knees up beneath the covers. So they were both sorry. And she was still screwed. She sniffed once, swallowing back tears.

“Keira . . . ” Walker’s voice was hesitant.

“I’m fine,” she said, shivering again.

“I know you are.” There was as much sadness as admiration in his words. Then he slid across the bed, spooning himself around her. He draped an arm over her and their bare legs pressed against one another. His warmth drove the chill from the sheets and took Keira’s fear with it.

The contours of the Darkside ravine appeared, shining with a different sort of blackness against the dark of the hotel room.
Keira stared at it. She knew if she pulled away from Walker, it would disappear.

But it wouldn’t really be gone.

And she would be cold and scared and alone.

It didn’t seem like such a hard choice anymore. She squeezed her eyes shut and snuggled back against Walker’s chest. His arm tightened around her waist.

Keira relaxed. Her thoughts began to drift, and when Walker murmured something into her hair, the words were lost in the fog of her almost-sleep.

“Mmm . . . what?” She struggled to open her eyes, wondering what he’d said.

“Oh. Sorry. Nothing. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said.

Her curiosity was no match for her exhaustion, and she drifted off to sleep.

•  •  •

Her cell phone rang early the next morning, waking Keira. She’d rolled toward Walker in the night, and they were so tangled up in each other that it took her a minute to extricate herself. She grabbed for the phone a moment too late. It was Susan. Keira swore.

The sharp wolf whistle from the bed made Keira jump.

She glanced down and realized that she was standing in the middle of the room, wearing only her T-shirt and panties.

Hot-pink, polka-dotted panties.

She yanked the hem of her T-shirt down.

Walker propped himself up on his elbows. The sheets pooled around his waist, highlighting his shirtless state. She hadn’t realized how muscular he was. He looked more slender when he was dressed. Her mouth went dry.

He arched an eyebrow at her. “I hoped I’d get to see you in those someday.”

“Huh?” She was so confused, she wondered if she were still dreaming.

“The laundry? That first day at your house?” He grinned at her. The look on his face made Keira feel more naked than standing in the middle of the room in her underwear.

She felt herself blush, embarrassed by the memory.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly.

Every inch of her was aware that Walker was even less dressed than she was, that he was lying in a warm, rumpled bed, that there was nothing stopping her from getting in next to him and answering that wanting look on his face.

Nothing stopping her at all. Aside from the fact that it might get both of them killed.

“I’m getting dressed,” she said, cutting off her wandering thoughts. She ignored the low, pained chuckle that came from the bed and hightailed it into the bathroom. She tugged on her jeans, then brushed her teeth with her finger, wishing she had a toothbrush. And clean clothes. And a comb.

Her hair was hopeless. The best she could do was to snarl it into a low knot. When she opened the bathroom door, she was relived to see that Walker had gotten dressed too.

Though she hated to admit it, the more layers of clothes there were between them, the better. If she hadn’t been so angry and terrified in the middle of the night, who knew what might have happened?

“My turn,” he announced, sliding past her into the bathroom.

She flopped down on the bed. Her phone still showed Susan’s missed call, but there was no voice mail. Keira called the school, lowering her voice enough to pass for her mother. One quick case of fake strep throat and she was off the attendance hook for the day.

She sat on the bed and flipped the phone between her fingers. What could she possibly tell Susan that wouldn’t make her best friend worry that she’d lost her mind? How could she explain what had happened? What she
was
?

Keira couldn’t think straight. She didn’t miss her parents, couldn’t care less about being away from her house, but her piano was a different story.

“Why are you grinding your teeth?” Walker’s voice split the stillness of the room and Keira leapt to her feet.

“You scared the crap out of me!”

“Uh, sorry? I didn’t realize I had been so ninjalike.”

Keira laughed, surprising herself.

Walker nodded approvingly. “Laughing in the face of mortal danger. I’m proud.” He motioned toward the phone lying on the bed. “So, did you talk to Susan?”

Keira sat back down on the bed. “Not yet.” She looked up at Walker. His hair was damp, and stubble shadowed his chin. It made him look more rugged than usual. Keira wondered what it would feel like against her skin—she wanted to run her lips across his jawline to see exactly how rough it was.

“Why?” he asked, interrupting her blossoming daydream.

Keira closed her eyes. Her fingers drummed imaginary scales against the bedsheets, forcing her thoughts into line. “I can’t figure out what to tell her,” she admitted.