Dominic drove the Range Rover off the ferry, Neffe in the front passenger seat, Nik and me right behind them, and Kat in the very back, earbuds in and iPod blaring something with equal amounts of whininess and yelling and that was downright terrible. I was eternally grateful for headphones, especially where Kat’s music was concerned. I just wished I could turn down my heightened sense of hearing so I wouldn’t be able to hear the ear-sore at all.
And then there was Neffe, who’d taken control of the SUV’s stereo system and was continuing her mission to convert us all into smooth jazz enthusiasts. It wasn’t that I disliked her taste in music; rather, it just sort of faded into the background whenever I was listening to it. When Nik started humming along, I glanced at him, surprised that he was familiar enough with the tune to harmonize with it perfectly. But he didn’t notice, just kept on staring out the window and humming softly.
Some twenty minutes later, we were exiting I-5 and making our way down Forty-Fifth Street toward the north end of the University of Washington campus. I stirred out of my car coma when Dominic continued straight through an intersection instead of turning right and heading toward the hospital, where Neffe would be spending the afternoon in the better-equipped labs running tests on Tarset’s blood, tissue, and saliva samples.
Money, I was quickly learning, could buy almost anything, including access to world-renowned research facilities via an exorbitant donation. And if there was one thing Heru’s line wasn’t lacking in, it was money. Being able to see the future and all that . . . But it was the doors that money could open that might just prove invaluable. Neffe would be using this expensive opportunity to compare her samples to what Aset claimed was one of the most extensive libraries of poisons, toxins, and pathogens we were likely to find outside of a CDC facility.
I leaned forward and placed my hand on the top of Dominic’s seat. “Where are you going?”
“To the lot behind Denny.”
“But why? Then Neffe’ll be wasting a solid forty minutes walking to and from the hospital, and she could use that time in the labs.” I shook my head. “All I’m doing is meeting with Dr. Ramirez, and that’s not for another hour. At least drop her off first.”
“I don’t mind the walk,” Neffe said. “I prefer it, actually. It helps me process my findings.”
“And this is the best way to minimize your exposure to danger.” Dominic’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror for the briefest moment. “Which is my main priority, considering your condition.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I snapped. “I’m pregnant, Dom, I’m not an invalid.” But even as I said the words, I knew that to the other four Nejerets in the car, an invalid was exactly what I was. The nearly impossible physiological phenomenon that had allowed a Nejerette like myself to even become pregnant muted my body’s natural ability to regenerate, making me as vulnerable as a regular ol’ human. This didn’t seem nearly as worrisome to me as it did to them; after all, I’d spent two and a half decades as a vulnerable human and barely half a year as a Nejerette. The others’ silence following my hasty protestation only confirmed what I was just now coming to accept weeks into the pregnancy. For the next eight months, I’d be weakened, fragile, vulnerable—an invalid. Damn it.
Instead of arguing, I crossed my arms over my chest, stared out the window, and kept my mouth shut as Dominic parked in the small lot behind Denny Hall. The century-old anthropology building was stunning as ever, with its chateau-like exterior, proud bell tower, and windows gleaming with reflected sunlight. I wasn’t the least bit surprised that being back here felt a lot like coming home. Even if I was a tad bit irritated.
Neffe hopped out almost as soon as we came to a stop, not even waiting for Dominic to turn off the engine. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way back,” she told Dominic, then started to shut the door.
My half-brother reached across the center console and stopped the door from shutting completely with a palm on the side panel. “Perhaps it would be wise to take Katarina with you.” I glanced back, not the least bit surprised to find Kat staring out the window, apparently oblivious to the conversation . . . or to the fact that we’d even parked. “She could assist your work.”
“She would only get in my way,” Neffe said. “Besides, I’m sure she’d much prefer to stay with you and Lex and . . .” She cleared her throat. “With you and Lex.”
I watched Kat in my peripheral vision. She gave no indication that she’d heard, which wasn’t surprising considering that her earbuds were still in place. Except I could no longer hear her music. Which meant that earbuds or no, she could definitely hear Dominic’s and Neffe’s mutual attempts to pawn her off on the other.
My heart twanged with sympathy and more than a hint of empathy. I was no stranger to feeling like an unwelcome burden, either; after all, Marcus had run far and fast and had stayed away for months as soon as he’d figured out who I really was. I couldn’t stand the idea of Kat feeling unwanted all day, not when today was supposed to be our one outing for who knew how long. Not at all.
“Good!” I said, hoping the single word hadn’t sounded overenthusiastic. “This’ll give me a chance to show her all my old haunts . . . maybe convert her into a future Husky.” I didn’t miss the way Nik’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit, the way the corner of his mouth tensed, like he was holding back a frown, or maybe a smile.
“How lovely,” Neffe said. “Can I go now? I do have a lot to do in a short period of time . . .”
In one smooth motion, Dominic let go of the door and straightened in his seat. Just as quickly, Neffe shut the door and was walking away from the car.
I twisted in my seat and patted Kat’s knee. “Ready, Freddie?”
She made a show of pulling out her headphones as she turned red-rimmed, glassy eyes my way. She averted her gaze down to her phone almost immediately. Oh yeah, she’d definitely heard everything.
Kat and I had to wait a solid ten minutes for Dominic and Nik to scout the area immediately surrounding Denny Hall. Kat moved up to Nik’s middle seat instead of waiting in the back.
We were silent for several minutes, her phone forgotten in her hand and her eyes locked on the seemingly abandoned campus just beyond the window while I stared out at the small patch of road that had played so prominently in the dream. Physically being here, so close to the spot where I’d seen Dr. Ramirez die—real or not—was proving to be even more unsettling than the dream itself had been.
Gone was the brief blip of comfort I felt at returning to this place. Now, I felt antsy and on edge. I felt like I should’ve stayed with Marcus on Bainbridge, like I shouldn’t have been here. Must be the hormones, I thought, shaking my head. Likely, they were to blame for all of it—the weird feeling, the dream, my irritation with Marcus for agreeing to let me go . . .
Finally, Kat cleared her throat. “Thanks,” she said quietly. When I turned my head to look at her, I found her still staring out the window.
I studied her profile, not for the first time searching for the similarities between us that others claimed were so obvious when they saw us together. I supposed it wasn’t surprising; we were half-sisters through Set, after all, though I still had a hard time seeing the resemblance with either Kat or my other known half-sibling, Dominic. I figured it was psychological—I’d met both of them thinking they were strangers, unrelated to me in any way. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Thanks for what?” I asked, smiling to myself. I was glad I’d been so wrong, because I adored both of these strangers-turned-siblings more than I ever could have imagined.
“Just, you know . . .” Kat shrugged and shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable. “For, like—I don’t know.” She wiped her hands on her cutoffs and looked at me for the first time since moving up a seat. The usual luster in her eyes was dimmed, her whole spunky demeanor somehow wilted. Even her crown of a bun seemed a little droopy.
“Hey.” I reached over and gave her an awkward side hug. “I’m glad you’re here, Kit-Kat.”
She gave me a doubtful look. “Really?”
“Really,” I said, pulling back but keeping my arm partially draped over her shoulders. “It’s a relief to have a break from Serious, Serious-er, and Serious-est out there. At least with you here I know I’ll have someone to laugh with.”
She perked up visibly. “Why are they all always so serious, anyway?” She smiled wanly and tucked her phone into her jeans pocket. “I mean, what’s the point in living forever if you’re allergic to fun?”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. “I’m not positive”—I met her gaze conspiratorially—“considering I’m only eight months into forever, but I’m starting to think that the definition of ‘fun’ changes several centuries in. We’ll catch up eventually.”
“Or we’ll remind them of how they used to be,” Kat said, her eyes twinkling. All signs of glassy-eyed sadness were gone, her luster and spunk returned in full-force.
At a tap on the window on my side, we both jumped. Nik gave the “all clear” thumbs-up, and Kat and I pushed open our doors.
“In the future, maybe try not to give the pregnant invalid a heart attack,” I muttered to Nik.
He blinked, his expression blank. “I never said you were an invalid.” He shut the Range Rover’s door as I adjusted my patchwork leather shoulder bag and looked around for Dominic. “I believe that was your word . . . that you’ve now used twice.”
“I said I wasn’t one and that’s not the point,” I said in a huff, crossing my arms over my chest.
Nik paused, his hand still on the side of the car, and gave me a curious look. He cocked his head to the side and took a step toward me, his irises fading from pale blue to opalescent white as Re took over. “Are you feeling alright, Alexandra? You seem unusually agitated today. Is it the hormones?”
“Duuuuude,” Kat said as she rounded the back of the Range Rover. “You did not just tell a pregnant lady she’s being too hormonal, did you?”
I looked from Kat to Re-Nik to Kat and back, then blew out a breath. “He did, but it’s okay—he’s right.” I relaxed my arms at my sides and shook my head. “I don’t know if it’s the hormones, or what, but . . .” I shrugged. “The past few nights I’ve had this dream . . . about an accident that happened right there,” I said, pointing to the spot by the road some fifty yards away. “I had the same dream last year—it was my first echo, and it was of a possible future that never actually happened, but still . . . the dream was troubling and I’ve been on edge ever since, like I’m waiting for the accident to really happen, which is ridiculous, because it was supposed to happen last winter, and it never did.” I hiked my bag up higher on my shoulder. “And I guess being here is just making me antsier. So, yeah . . .”
“You dreamed of this bygone possibility last night, you said?” Re-Nik asked.
Biting my lip, I nodded.
“Was it simply a regular dream, or an At-dream?”
“Well . . .” I frowned. “Honestly, it felt like an At-dream.”
Re-Nik’s eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown. “Such a thing should be impossible, and I do not use that word lightly.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, not sure I wanted the answer.
Re-Nik took his time, filling the silence with more thoughtful squinting and a several-thousand-mile stare. “All unfulfilled future possibilities disappear from the At the moment they are passed by.” He paused for several heartbeats, and it felt like forever. “I know this may sound confusing, but that echo—a bygone possibility of a future that never happened—should not exist anymore.”
“So it was just a dream then,” Kat said. “Case closed.”
Both of them stared at me, waiting for a response I couldn’t give them. Because I felt fairly certain that it had been an At-dream, and that was precisely why it had been bothering me so much. According to Re, I shouldn’t have been able to view an echo of Dr. Ramirez being hit by a car last December because Dr. Ramirez hadn’t been hit by a car, and the echo should have winked out of existence when the moment passed. And yet . . . “I, um—I’m not sure.”
“You are not sure of what, Lex?” Dominic asked as he jogged around the front of the car.
“It’s a long story,” I said, frustration evident in my tone. I could only think of one way to set my overactive imagination and buzzing nerves to rest—I needed to venture into the At and examine the echo in question. When it showed me making my solo, uneventful trip to get coffee without Dr. Ramirez getting hit by a car, then I’d know once and for all that it had truly been a dream and that I was getting myself worked up over nothing.
“I have to check the At,” I told the others. Upon taking in my companions’ question- and doubt-filled faces, I added, “I can’t explain why, but I have to do this.”
It was Nik who nodded first, then Kat. Dominic returned my stare, his dark eyes hard, his expression set. “The At is unstable; I will accompany you.”
I wasn’t surprised and didn’t argue. I was anxious enough about this particular trip into the At not to want to argue, and it would go a long way to setting my jumpy nerves at ease to have him there with me.
“Alright,” I said, easing myself down onto the hot pavement and sitting cross-legged. I reached up for Dominic to join me on the ground, flashing him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Let’s get this over with.”
Because I felt certain that as soon as I proved to myself that all was as it should be, the mounting sense of waiting for something to happen would evaporate. All of this echo-dream dread and confusion would be behind us, and we’d be able to enjoy ourselves, worry free. I felt certain of it . . . ish.