Endless (Shadowlands 3)

“Who the hell are you?” the large bearded man from the twins’ boarding house shouted.

“My name is Tristan Parrish,” he replied. “I’m the mayor’s son. And I’d be glad to answer your questions and hear your concerns.”

The crowd roared, everyone trying to speak at once. Sebastian and Selma exchanged a glance behind Tristan’s back.

“Now, you know I can’t understand any of you if everyone talks at the same time,” Tristan said with a casual, indulgent smile. “If you wouldn’t mind raising your hands, I can repeat your question for everyone to hear and then do my best to answer it.”

Three dozen hands shot into the air.

“He’s good,” I said under my breath.

“Yeah, but how good?” Krista asked, her knees knocking together beneath her white raincoat. She glanced back over her shoulder at the double doors to the station. “Um…Rory? Is anyone with Pete right now?”

My heart dropped into my toes. Someone had Grantz’s key. Whoever it was could be doubling back there right now to let Pete out, too.

“Let’s go.”

Krista grabbed my hand as we tore inside the police station, our sneakers squealing and squishing the whole way across the marble lobby. Together we ran down the hallway, and I yanked open the door. My lungs released a relieved sigh when I saw that Pete was still there, still sitting on the floor with his arms around his legs. A streak of dirt cut across one cheek, and his eyes looked bloodshot. He glanced up at us as we walked in, following Krista with his eyes as she slipped by me to perch on a stool in the far corner.

“Good. You’re still here,” I said.

“Where would I go?”

I froze at the sound of his voice, low and crackly and dry. This was the first time anyone had heard him spe

ak since Thursday night. My pulse throbbed inside every inch of my skin. This was my chance. The chance I’d been waiting for. I dropped to my knees and gripped the bars in front of me. They were so cold my fingers ached.

“Pete, how did Liam get out?” I demanded. “Did someone help him? Did he tell you where he was going?”

Pete ever so slowly peeled his eyes off Krista and slid his gaze to my feet.

“No.”

“Pete, come on. Enough is enough,” I said. “Don’t you want to talk? Don’t you want to tell someone what’s going on? Don’t you want to get the hell out of here?”

He bit his lip and stared. There was something so vulnerable about him, so malleable, and I realized suddenly—that was exactly what Pete was. He’d been the last young Lifer to arrive here before Krista, who was the last to arrive before me, Darcy, and Liam. He was still just a kid like me. Someone who had been promised something he sorely wanted. Suddenly, my heart went out to him. Even with everything he had done, he was still one of us. He was still human.

“Darcy was always nice to you, wasn’t she, Pete?” I said quietly. “She laughed at your jokes, she thought you were fun, and she loved your music.”

Pete’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, and I could see something shifting within them. He was starting to cave. I clung to the bars and held my breath.

“She doesn’t deserve what she’s suffering right now, Pete. You know it. I know it. But only you know how to get her back. Please, just tell me how to save my sister.”

Pete pressed his lips together. His grip on his arms tightened. Outside, muted by the thick walls, a communal jeer went up from the crowd. I darted a glance at Krista, who looked as worried as I was. Time was slipping away from us, faster and faster and faster. If we didn’t fix this soon, those people out there were going to make what happened with Jessica look like a cakewalk.

“You just got in over your head a little bit,” I said to Pete, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. “You believed a promise someone made to you, and it forced you to do bad things. But if you help me, you’re going to redeem yourself in everyone’s eyes.” I took a shaky breath. “If you help me, I’ll help you. I’ll speak for you with the others.”

Pete swallowed. He rested his chin atop his arm and stared straight ahead. Not at me, not at Krista. At nothing.

“Eighteen paces,” he said quietly.

Krista stood up, the stool screeching against the floor and knocking back against the wall. “What?”

Pete was still as stone. “You have to walk exactly eighteen paces onto the bridge,” he said. “Then turn to the left and whisper the worst sin you committed in life. That’s how you open the door to the Shadowlands.”

I stood up, every cell in my body on fire. “That’s it?”

“As long as you tell the truth, the door will open,” Pete said, hazarding a glance at my face. He sniffled and rubbed his nose.