“I thought having Lake here would keep me grounded—and it did, to an extent. I think our killer got tired of waiting. When he realized I wasn’t going anywhere …” Griffin trailed off.
I thought back to what he had said earlier, about sometimes losing his grip on this reality. I hadn’t understood until I’d seen it myself, but now I had to wonder—what if the other Shadow didn’t choose to wait until Griffin was gone until it attacked? What if they couldn’t be in the same place at the same time?
Without even realizing I was doing it, I let that thought bleed over onto Lake’s and Chase’s minds. With absolutely no ceremony whatsoever, Lake turned immediately to Griffin and proceeded to show him the exact same amount of sympathy she’d shown me.
“Stop your caterwauling,” she said, though I could hear the undercurrent of sadness, worry, and fear in her voice. “That thing came here, and you left. We could all do with a few less sorrys and a little more figuring of the hows and the whys.”
“Caterwauling?” Griffin repeated dryly. “You think I’m caterwauling?”
Lake nodded and then made an imperious shooing motion, which Griff must have interpreted as encouragement to stay on task and start talking. With an aggravated look at his sister, he did.
“The second before I blinked out, I could feel a presence trying to get in. There was this pressure, inside my head, outside it.” He paused. “Then it was here. For a split second, we both were. And then …”
He stopped talking, and the moment he did, memories passed from Lake’s mind to mine. I didn’t know how she’d picked them up from Griffin, or how he’d known that she would be able to pick up where he left off. If the bond between them was that strong, why hadn’t I picked up on Griffin’s innocence sooner? Why hadn’t I believed what Lake was telling me? Why hadn’t I seen?
Because you didn’t want to. I answered my own question. Because you couldn’t let yourself let him in—not after Lucas. Not again.
I shook myself free of the thought like a dog shaking off the rain. Through my bond with Lake, I let myself feel what Griffin had in the second before the other Shadow began the attack—the incredible pressure, the chill, and finally, the pull of a vacuum.
Pulling Griffin apart.
Pulling him to pieces.
“Two Shadows can’t be in the same place at the same time,” I said, mulling it over and wondering if there was any way we could use that little tidbit to our advantage. Besides an attack against the Shadow’s twin, that was the only thing we’d found that even approximated weakness.
Facing off against Wilson had been bad enough when he was a corporeal Rabid. Taking him down in this form would be much, much harder.
Maybe even impossible.
“What are you thinking?” Chase was the one who asked the question, but I could see reflections of it on the others’ faces—all except for Maddy, whose pale face was carefully, curiously blank.
“I asked Devon to look into something.” That wasn’t exactly an answer, but it was true. “When he gets back to me, I’ll let you guys know.”
I wasn’t going to dig up the past we’d tried so hard to bury, not until I was sure. At this point, all I had were a string of coincidences and a gut feeling, like lead in my stomach.
I wasn’t going to rip open Chase’s wounds—or Maddy’s—for that.
“I’ll go.” Maddy whispered the words, but there was a certain strength to them nonetheless. A finality.
“Go?” Lake and I repeated, our voices combining to make the question sound more like an exclamation.
“This is my fault,” Maddy said, enunciating each word with almost maniacal precision. “This thing is following me. The animals and the girl and that boy in Wyoming—it’s all me.”
“Maddy.” There was something in the way Griffin said her name that reminded me of the way Chase said mine. “None of this is your—”
“All of this is my fault.” Maddy wasn’t whispering anymore. Her vocal cords tensed with the weight of the words. “I did this. Me.”
She had her hand on her stomach again, and I wondered what exactly she was blaming herself for.
“You could have died, Bryn.” Maddy swung her gaze toward mine, but made no move to come closer to the bed. I struggled to stand, moved closer to her.
Maddy didn’t bat an eye. It was like she was trapped in her own little world, her own nightmare. “This monster went after you. It hurt you, and the last thing I wanted to do—”
She stopped talking and bit her lip. I could see her trying not to cry, trying not to remember.