The Retribution of Mara Dyer (Mara Dyer, #3)(56)

“I don’t either, but the alternative is turning around and going home,” I said. “And I can’t do that.”

Jamie looked at me and then crouched and lifted the shutter with both arms. You could probably have heard the metal groan all the way in Miami. We stood in front of a dark brown, or maybe rusted red door with a window covered in newspaper in it.

“Well,” Stella said, “if he didn’t know we were here before, he definitely does now.”

I put my hand on the doorknob. It turned without effort, and I led the three of us in. The darkness outside was nothing compared to the darkness inside. It seemed solid, almost. Like if you reached out your hand, you would feel it.

“Should we look for a light?” Stella whispered.

“Are you afraid of the dark?” Jamie asked.

“I’d rather not break my neck tripping over you.”

“And I’m pretty sure we already announced ourselves unintentionally,” I said. “I vote for light.” In no small part because I suddenly felt very afraid of the dark.

Jamie turned and scanned the wall behind us for a switch. It took a while, but soon—

“Bingo,” he said, and flicked it on.

Rows and rows of lights slammed on, illuminating the vast space, which was lined with shelves that nearly scraped the ceiling. We heard something crash to the floor.

“Ow!”

Jamie and Stella looked at each other. Neither of them had spoken.

I didn’t look at either of them. I just stared straight ahead, my mouth hanging open. I knew that Ow.

“Daniel?”





38


WHAT—MARA?” DANIEL SAID AT full volume. And then he poked his head out from behind a shelf at waist height.

I couldn’t run fast enough. My brother was kneeling on the floor, rubbing one knee, and I dropped down and gave him the hug of his life.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice muffled by his shoulder. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t believe how good it felt to be hugged by my big brother. Or hugged period, really.

“I heard the shutter opening and flipped off the lights and hid, sort of, behind the stacks. And then you turned the lights on, and I tripped over a footstool.”

“You are a genius,” I said, smiling.

“What are you doing here?”

I pulled back, and the words just came pouring out of me—what had happened to me at Horizons, what had happened to me before Horizons, all of it. The dam had burst, and there was no putting it back together. Daniel’s expression morphed from confusion to shock to horror to resignation and back to confusion as I spoke, breathless and flushed by the time I finished.

“So you’re telling me . . . ,” Daniel started. “You’re telling me it was all real.” A nervous laugh escaped from his throat. “Everything you—everything you said you were writing, for that Horizons assignment, that fiction thing? It wasn’t fiction. There was no protagonist. You were talking about you.”

I smiled, thinking of what Noah would have said if he were there. He’d thought I was being too obvious about my little problem, by telling Daniel it was an “assignment.” I wished he were there, so I could say, I told you so.

Instead I said to my brother, “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Because it’s— How is it possible?”

“We don’t know,” Jamie said. “We’re here to try to figure it out.”

Daniel closed his eyes. “I need a minute.” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “You’re not telling me—you can’t fly or anything.”

“Nope,” I said.

“And you can’t, like, scale tall buildings and shoot webs out of your fingers.”

I shook my head.

“Okay,” Daniel said. “Okay.” He looked around, his eyebrows drawn together, and he seemed to notice Jamie and Stella for the first time then. “I don’t know you,” he said to Stella. “But I know you.” His eyes were on Jamie. “The Ebola kid, right?”

“Daniel.”

“Right,” Jamie said, a smile turning up the corner of his lips. “Jamie Roth,” he said, holding out his hand. Daniel shook it slowly, still dazed.

“Stella Benicia,” she said next, introducing herself. “And now that you know who we are, and we know who you are, mind telling us what you’re doing here?”

Daniel looked a bit taken aback.

I sighed. “We were expecting—”

“A Santeria priest,” Jamie interrupted. “You didn’t happen to see anyone else here when you arrived?”

Daniel shook his head, looking even more confused, if that were possible. “It was just me.”

“How did you get in?” Jamie asked.

“That’s kind of a long story,” Daniel said.

“Lucky for us,” I said, “we have a bit of time.”

Daniel narrowed his eyes at me. “I bet you do. Follow me, Little Sister.”



Daniel led us up a winding, rickety metal staircase and then down a narrow passageway that led to the back of the building. He pushed open a door to an exposed-brick room with a bare bulb and a drafting table. Several books and files were neatly organized on and around it.