“Stop,” Dylan says and Hildi slams on the brakes. We fly forward, my hands holding on to the seat in front of me.
“Holy shit, Hildi. Give us a little notice.”
Hildi’s driving skills were questionable. The scowl hadn’t left Dylan’s face the whole ride. To be honest, I’d checked my seat belt at least three times as she careened through the busy streets of New York.
We were following the scent of infection and decay—that’s what she told us, at least. I trusted her senses but I’m surprised when Dylan tells her to stop the car.
“Over there.” He’s already out of his seat. I’m not sure what he’s looking for but he hops out of the vehicle and dodges a series of cars to get to the other side of the busy road.
“Park the car,” I tell her, following Dylan. I find him walking back and forth at a train station. “What are you doing?”
“I saw this in one of the paintings. There’s a gate around here.” He touches the signs, the bench, the curve of the guardrail.
“I could see the gate in the park that day. The air around it wasn’t right. I don’t see anything like that here.”
Hildi races up, breathing heavily. She takes a deep breath. “Someone with the infection has been here.”
“Anita?”
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
Dylan continues his search but Hildi sniffs the air. She scans the people walking around us. Our whole group gets a few looks. Hildi looks like some kind of Nordic model and Dylan has a face that is almost too beautiful to be real. I try my best to seem normal, average, but my partners and their erratic behavior isn’t making it easy.
“I smell something,” Hildi says, taking off in the direction of a small wooded park.
“Come on,” I tell Dylan. “We can come back.”
Again we cross the busy roads, Hildi unconcerned about traffic or cars. Dylan grabs my hand and leads me to the safety of the park. I feel a gust of familiar cool air roll in our direction.
“Do you feel that?”
“No, but I smell it,” Hildi says. “God, it’s awful.” She retches, covering her mouth with her hand. Deep lines crease Dylan’s forehead.
“There’s a gate around here—you were right,” I tell him, walking toward the grove of trees. A spot a wave of air and a discoloration. Hildi walks off, face scrunched.
I walk toward the gate and the familiar cold air burns my cheeks. I feel the draw, the lure, just like last time. Whatever exists on the Otherside beckons me, and I’m inches away when I’m jerked back.
“What?” I shout, coming toe to toe with Dylan.
“Last time they barely got you out of there. I can’t let you get too close.”
There’s a crackle in the air and the coolness vanishes. I look over my shoulder and all signs of the gate have disappeared.
“It’s gone,” I say, pulling out of his arms. I search for Hildi. She’s staring through the trees. “The gate closed, is the smell gone too?”
“No.” Her eyes are locked on something across the park. I move next to her and grip her elbow when I get a better view. “It reeks.”
The woman’s blonde, wavy hair catches my eye. She’s headed straight for us, or more likely, the closed portal. “That’s her. That’s who we’re looking for.”
I don’t know what to expect but it’s not for Hildi to charge toward her.
“Morgan, step back,” Dylan says, balling his fists and stepping between me and the women.
I push him aside. “This is my wrong to right.”
“I can’t let you go over there. It’s my duty to protect you.” His hand wraps around my arm, squeezing tight. I jerk back and reach for my sword with my free hand. It glints in the sunlight.
“No, Dylan. It’s your duty to serve and I started this with Anita. I let her get too close.” Voices rise from in the trees. “Stay here. Watch the gate. Bunny may try to get through.”