The Dark Divine(37)

“It’s not for me, it’s for James.” He made a couple more knots in his shirt. “If I wear him up front, it’ll be easier for us to make a run for it.” Daniel pulled his homemade sling over his shoulder and took James out of my arms. The baby squealed as Daniel situated him in the fabric folds, but sure enough, the shirt had made a perfect little seat for him to sit in against Daniel’s chest. “I’ve been here before. This ravine curves around back toward your neighborhood.” Daniel took my hand again.

He started running, pulling me with him.

“But how are we getting out of the ravine?” I asked. “My hand is trashed. I don’t think I can climb.”

“Leave that to me,” Daniel said, and picked up his pace.

I had to sprint to keep up with him. I couldn’t believe how fast he ran, especially while hefting James. Daniel never missed a step, even though it was getting quite dark—we’d probably been gone from the house for more than an hour. I had to concentrate hard on my footfalls just so I wouldn’t slip in the mud or trip over boulders. Anytime my feet faltered, Daniel would pull me up before I could fall. His hand twitched as he held mine. I could tell his shoulders were tightening and relaxing like they had when we rode on the motorcycle. He craved more speed. But I was thankful he didn’t pull me any faster. I was breathing so hard I couldn’t even speak.

The ravine wrapped around toward the east, and it felt like we’d been running for at least a mile. My feet burned with blisters. My legs and lungs ached. I couldn’t see anything now in the dark, so I closed my eyes. I listened to my heart pounding in my ears, and to Daniel’s breathing. His sounded so even compared to mine. Just when I thought I couldn’t go any farther, it happened: I felt a wave of energy pass from Daniel’s hand into mine. That connection, that lifeline, from the Garden of Angels was binding us together again. Only this time the energy rushed through my body, and I felt a sudden liberating release, and I knew I could trust that Daniel would keep me safe while I ran blind. I let go of myself and let his graceful movements flow through me, let him be my guide in the darkness, as we ran with total abandon in the night.

I’d never felt so free.

I almost forgot where I was until Daniel leaned into me. “Almost there,” he said. He let go of my hand and slid his fingers up my arm. In one fluid movement, he gripped me tight underneath my arms, and lifted me up off the ground and onto his back. “Hold on!”

I latched my arms around Daniel’s neck and wrapped my legs around his almost-nonexistent boy-hips. James giggled and tugged on my hair. I’m sure I did look funny. Daniel picked up a sudden burst of speed. We shot forward, and I opened my eyes just in time to realize that he was running headlong into the ravine wall. He jumped onto a fallen tree and leaped.

Daniel grabbed at a root, but he barely touched it. He kicked off the wall and flew another six feet up the slope. His feet touched down on a rock outcropping. He jumped again. I slipped on his hips. My fingers dug into his throat. James clung to my arms. Daniel grabbed a tree branch that sagged over the top of the cliff—with only one hand. And then we were up and over the top. Safe.

Daniel jogged a few more paces into the trees and then leaned forward, panting. I slipped off his back, and the three of us went tumbling onto the dirt-packed ground. I lay next to Daniel for a moment, my body shaking with shock and a whole lot of awe. “That … was … was …”

I’d spent two weeks once watching parkour videos online because my art camp roomie, Adlen, had been totally in love with a French free-style runner. But compared to those films, the things Daniel had done today—while carrying two people, no less—weren’t humanly possible.

Daniel looked at me, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

James clapped and squealed, “More!”

Daniel drew in a deep breath. “But we’re home, little guy.” He pulled James out of the sling and pointed through the woods to where my neighborhood’s lights called like a beacon in the distance.

James pouted with disappointment, and I felt the same way.

Daniel rolled over onto his stomach, still breathing hard. I fingered the tear in his T-shirt and realized that even though the rip was matted with blood, there wasn’t a cut in his skin. Only a long, jagged scar where a bleeding wound should have been. I brushed my fingertip down the warm, pink mark. Daniel started to flinch away, but then he sighed, as if my touch was soothing to his skin.

“How …? I mean … What are you?” I asked. Daniel laughed—a real laugh. Not a snort or sarcastic snicker. He stood up and offered me his hand. “I think it’s best if we walked from here,” he said, and pulled me to my feet. He picked up James and motioned for us to keep going toward my house.

I frowned. Did he really expect me to just walk away?

“Tell me, please. That was so not normal. How did you do all that?”

“Let’s get your brother home first. We’ll talk when this is all over. I promise.”

“Don’t promises always get broken?”

Daniel reached out and brushed my cheek.

James coughed. His breath fogged out of his lips. I was so hot from running so fast, I’d completely forgotten that it was cold. I felt a chill creeping up my sweaty arms, and knew James must be even colder. But I also knew once we passed through the fence into my yard, the magic—the connection—I’d felt while running with Daniel would be gone. And my chance for getting answers might never come.