Endless (Shadowlands 3)

“I can’t get used to it,” Tristan said, leaning forward to look up at the sky through the windshield. “That blanket of fog? For the first time since I arrived here, it really does feel like another world.”

“That’s never happened before?” I asked, fiddling with the zipper on my blue hoodie.

“No. This is new.”

His hands slipped down the sides of the steering wheel and came to rest awkwardly in his lap. He caught me watching them and laughed quietly.

“You have no idea how much I want to touch you,” he said.

My heart turned cartwheels. “Why don’t you?”

He turned to me, his clear-blue gaze seeking something inside my eyes. “Because I don’t know if you want me to.”

I swallowed hard. “Tristan—”

“Hang on a sec,” he said. “Just let me talk.”

I nodded, unzipping my sweatshirt and tugging it free of my arms. The world suddenly felt stifling.

“When I was on the run…hiding out there…knowing everyone I’d ever cared about was hunting me down…I never once thought about myself,” Tristan said. “I never thought about what might happen to me. What they would do to me if they found me. All I ever thought about was you.”

A bubble welled up inside my throat, and I gulped it back, determined not to interrupt him.

“All that matters to me anymore is what you think of me,” Tristan said. “And that you’re happy. That you’re okay. I spent every single night I was gone on that bridge, trying to figure out how to get the damn door or the portal or whatever it is that leads to the Shadowlands to open. Every single night. I wanted to get your dad back for you. Get Aaron back. I didn’t even care if you ever found out that I was the one who saved them. I just wanted it done. For you.”

I took a breath. A single tear spilled down my cheek. He reached up and touched his palm to it.

“I’m sorry that I failed you,” he said.

I let out this weird noise. It was somewhere between a laugh—because how could he be apologizing to me?—and a sob—because there was so much emotion inside me that I couldn’t help but release it. I reached up and held on to his forearm like I was clinging to life.

“Did you find anything?” I asked him desperately. “Anythi

ng that could help us?”

His hand dropped from my face and he held my fingers lightly between us, looking down, touching each of my fingertips in turn with the pad of his thumb. He shook his head.

“It’s scary on that bridge. There are these voices—”

“You heard them, too?” I asked.

He blinked and stopped his fidgeting. “Wait. You went over the bridge?”

I nodded. “The other day. I was trying to find you. Or find a way in. I don’t know. But I thought I heard…” I trailed off, too embarrassed to continue.

“What? Who?” he asked, breathless. “Who did you hear?”

I gulped. “My mom. And Steven Nell.” I shuddered now, remembering it, and sat back in the seat, staring out over the wide blue ocean. “I thought I was going insane.”

“You weren’t. I mean, you’re not. I heard them, too. People I knew in life, souls who came through here a hundred years ago who I’d almost forgotten. It was like they were trying to talk to me, or about me. Almost like they were laughing at me.”

“Exactly.” I pressed my lips together and shivered. “If it’s that awful on the bridge, Tristan…then what’s it like in the Shadowlands?”

His expression darkened, and I knew he was feeling the same pain I was. This island and the purpose he served meant more to him than anything. It must have been killing him to know that everything had gone wrong, that innocent people were suffering.

“We’re going to get them back, Rory. I swear. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll get them back for you.”

“But how?” I asked.