Page 63 of Waysider
“How is it supposed to look?”
“She’s so strong. So vivid. That is not how a living person feels. Right now, we’re in the spirit world, and my world is far away. The living are fuzzy, faded. But not your sister. It’s almost as if… she exists in both worlds. My world, and yours.” This last part Laura said in a whisper, as though she were afraid.
Cal’s heartbeat wasn’t so steady now. “What does that mean, exactly?”
Laura’s eyes snapped open. Before Cal could say anything, she stood from the table and pushed her chair back. The legs screeched along the floor. “I don’t know,” she said.
Cal watched her walk toward the kitchen, his hands fisting on the table. “Wait. We’re not done.”
“Tonight we are. I can only stay in the spirit world for brief periods of time.” Laura took another beer out of the fridge and slammed the lid against the door handle. It came off with a pop, then went skittering across the tiles. Laura tipped her head back, put the bottle to her lips, and took a long drink. The hollow of her throat dipped and rose with every swallow.
Watching her, Cal had to admit… it was kind of hot.
“What happens if you stay too long?” he asked, keeping his expression carefully blank.
The voyant made a low, humorless sound. “I’d be joining you in the spirit world. But I don’t plan on doing that for a long, long time. Come back on the next full moon.”
She turned away, heading for her bed, and Cal knew this was his cue to leave. Desperation surged through him. They hadn’t learned a single thing! He thought he’d be leaving here with a clue, a name, anything, and the idea of going back to Else & Bellows empty-handed brought back that useless feeling from before, only ten times worse. At least then, he’d had hope. Now all he had was anger and fear.
“Laura,” Cal said. She went still. It was the first time he’d said her name out loud, and if Laura was the one to tie them together, Cal had just secured the knots. He felt a pang of guilt, but he had to ask. “Is my sister in danger?”
Laura faced him. Her mouth tightened, and she shook her head. “I really don’t know.”
“Then we shouldn’t wait. We should keep looking. Right now.”
Laura’s eyes flashed. “Look, I’m not just some toy you can use or play with, okay?”
“Fuck. You’re right, I’m sorry.” Realizing how he’d sounded, Cal let out a breath. His hand rose to rub the back of his neck. “When it comes to my family, I can be a little one-track minded.”
“Is that what got you killed?” Laura asked bluntly.
Cal felt his defenses rise again, but he regained control quickly. He studied Laura’s expression and noted the tension in her narrow shoulders. She was reminding him that he was dead, Cal thought suddenly. Creating distance, keeping the distinction between them crystal clear. Cal wondered if this was for his benefit, or her own.
Laura’s question still hovered between them. After a moment, Cal turned to leave, deciding that he didn’t need to justify himself to anyone. He might regret dying, but he sure as hell didn’t regret trying to save his sister.
The sound of Laura’s voice stopped him.
“Hey.”
She hadn’t said his name, Cal noted as he turned. “Yeah?” he asked.
Laura held her arms against her stomach, her eyebrows drawn together. “I may not know what it means—what your sister’s soul looked like—but there is one thing I’ve learned. You can be dead, and you can be alive, but you can’t be both.”
Another silence swelled between them. Cal’s lips pressed together in thought. After a moment, he refocused on Laura. “Thanks for tonight. I appreciate it,” he told her.
He mustered a smile, and a startled look crossed Laura’s expression. “You’re welcome,” she said. “And… I’ll see you in a few days.”
The words made Cal’s smile grow. She wasn’t going to make him wait until the next full moon? Warm gratitude chased away the cold still clinging to his body, and just like that, hope had returned in a rush. “See you in a few days,” Cal confirmed, nodding.
Laura turned away, and this time, Cal left her to her sleep. He walked through the door and jogged up to the street, shoving his hands in his pockets. He felt lighter than he had in weeks. Months. He’d have answers soon, Cal thought. He remembered that night again, and instead of pain, his veins heated with anticipation. He pictured the boy on the bridge, and a wide grin stretched across his face.
I’m coming for you, you son of a bitch.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cass was frozen in terror.
She couldn’t budge, even as a voice screamed in her head that she needed to move or she would fucking die. Move, move, move!
