“That was a Seeker, wasn’t it?” she whispered as she struggled to sit up.
Walker nodded, fumbling in his pockets and coming up with a handful of car keys. “I can’t see him, but there are lots of places around here to hide.” He hesitated. “If I crossed over, I could look for him, but then you’d be alone. . . . ”
Keira quivered.
“Exactly,” Walker said in response to her shiver. “And he’s already crossed twice tonight. Crossing takes a toll on the Seekers. He’ll be hurting . . . hopefully too much to try again for a while. But we need to get out of here.” He looked down at her as she rubbed her throbbing shoulder.
She could feel the bruise blooming beneath the skin already.
“You okay?”
“Fine. Other than the fact that, you know, I’m not human, and I’m being hunted in my own house. Besides that, I’m just fucking great.” Anger swept through her voice like a wave through a sand castle.
“I understand why you’re mad—” Walker started, getting to his feet.
“Mad?” Keira interrupted, leaping up to stand so that they’d be on equal footing. Not that it made much difference. He still towered over her. “Mad doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
He ran a hand over his face. “Okay. I get it. You’re infused with the righteous fury of the endangered and disenfranchised. Totally understandable. Right now, though, we need to get the hell out of here or the only thing you’re going to be infused with is a bunch of the Reformers’ guards.”
“So, where am I supposed to go? How am I supposed to hide from something I can’t see?” Her voice squeaked on the last word.
Walker’s face was determined. “I’ll keep them from finding you. I can see Darkside for both of us. If anything happened to you, I couldn’t stand it. I understand if you hate me, but please let me help you anyway.”
“I don’t hate you.” Keira paced, trying to hold herself together. “I want to, but I don’t. I like you more than I should, Walker. A lot more. I always have.” She looked down at the floor. “I know that I need your help. But I don’t like being the kind of girl who needs a guy to save her. I want to be able to handle things on my own.”
Walker stepped in front of her. “You’re the kind of girl who does whatever she has to do to save herself. Even if that does mean asking for help.” His eyes searched hers.
“It still seems weak, somehow.”
He shook his head, his gaze never wavering from her eyes. “I’ve never met anyone as strong as you. Ever.” His arms slid around her back. Keira’s middle was like the July sun. Burning. Melting. Liquid.
He leaned in, his eyes reflecting the same heat she felt. Keira slid her arms around his neck as his lips met hers. The kiss shot through her, twining itself around her limbs, pushing her closer to Walker. She couldn’t hear anything except the pounding in her ears and she couldn’t feel anything other than Walker—his mouth on hers, his hands pulling her to him.
The sound of a far-off shout startled her and her eyes snapped open. She and Walker were standing beneath the tree, sheltered by its spreading limbs. Her house, her reality, had completely disappeared. Shocked, she stepped out of his arms, staring at the foreign landscape.
More trees stretched into the distance, lining a path that glittered like crushed black glass. At the end of the path stood an enormous cube-shaped building with windows cut into it at irregular intervals. Huge twin lamps glowed on either side of the door, though the light seemed to be streaming into their glow, rather than shining out of it. It gave Keira a headache.
A second shout, closer than the first, jerked her out of her reverie.
“Oh, shit,” Walker whispered, staring at her with something like awe, only more terrified. “We’re Darkside. You’re Darkside.”
The sound of people running across dry grass whispered in the distance.
“They can see us?” she asked Walker.
“Not for long,” he said. “Think about your house. Think in very excruciating detail about your house.”
Keira imagined the carpet beneath her feet, the couch behind her and the piano gleaming in the corner. It wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working?
“Don’t move!” The voice was close, the words thick and strange, like a pattern of drumbeats more than an actual language.
Walker shielded her with his body.
“Keira, try again. Come on—your piano. The pictures over the fireplace.”
She shut her eyes, blocking out the dark glimmer of the lamp in the distance, the trees around them—everything about Darkside. Instead, she smelled the dusty, burned-coffee scent of her house. Felt the glow of the piano lamp on her face. Imagined squishing her toes in the wall-to-wall carpet.
She opened her eyes and whimpered with relief. She was home. Walker’s arms were still around her, but in spite of his heat, she was trembling with cold.