Nina Berry: Othersphere

The old woman was sitting up, confused, but not drastically hurt. Over by the resort I heard someone shout, “Call 911!” And in a lower, astonished tone: “Is that a tiger ?”

They didn’t matter. I’d already generated several reports of escaped tigers in Vegas and Burbank. I dashed over to Caleb, sniffing his neck. Relief rushed over me as I caught the scent of his living blood and heard the air move in and out of his lungs. He would recover.

But Amaris was gone, sent to Othersphere for reasons only Ximon knew. As the helicopter shot up and out to vanish into the desert night, I sent one last despairing roar upward toward the uncaring stars.

Getting out of there took awhile. I had to work quickly, sniffing out Caleb’s satchel in his car so I could put on his clothes and become human again. By then the wedding guests had called an ambulance and the EMTs were working on Caleb and patching up the old woman who kept insisting that the “puma” they’d all seen was actually a tiger. And it hadn’t come out of the helicopter, but actually had run out of the desert, swerved to avoid her, and then tried to bring the helicopter down.

“You just need a bit of a rest,” the EMT told her in soothing tones.

I felt bad. No one would ever believe her, and I couldn’t tell them she was right. I said I hadn’t seen any kind of big cat, but that my boyfriend and I had been meeting up here just when what looked like some kind of drug drop was happening between the black helicopter and the men in the trucks.

Caleb came to while they were testing his vitals and refused to go to the hospital, even though they said he had a concussion. They dressed his scrapes and made him sign some kind of waiver, which he did illegibly. He then allowed me to help him into the SUV, one arm flung impersonally over my shoulders. But as soon as he was safely in the passenger seat, he drew away from me and did not touch or look at me again. The already cold winter air got positively frigid.

Amaris had left the keys in the ignition, so I loaded the motorcycle in the back as best I could, moved what belongings of Caleb’s I could find from his car to the SUV, and drove back to Kyle Canyon Road, heading for Morfael’s school.

A heavy silence lay over us in the car. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t, although more than anything I wanted to talk about what had just happened. It made no sense to me, and we had to figure it out fast to get Amaris back. I had no idea how that was possible, but if she could be shoved across the veil to Othersphere, then she could be shoved back. I just hope she survived until we got to her.

“I guess it’s a good thing you’re a stalker with terrible boundaries,” Caleb said at last. He was half sitting, half lying in his seat, the frosty window supporting his bruised head. “Or they would have gotten me, too.”

“I’m sorry.” The steering wheel creaked under my clenched hands, and I realized I was gripping it too tightly. “I wanted to make sure Amaris was safe, that’s all. I wasn’t going to stay.”

“You weren’t going to eavesdrop?” His flexible voice dripped skepticism. “You weren’t going to use that ridiculous hearing of yours to listen in on our private conversation, maybe find out where I’ve been, where I’m staying. . . .”

“Not everything is about you, Caleb,” I said, skirting the issue. “It’s not safe for any of us to go out alone.” I let a moment of silence linger. “Obviously. But that’s not what matters. Amaris is—”

“I know.” He lifted one bandaged hand to run his fingers through his unruly black hair. “I don’t understand it.”

He still hadn’t looked at me. Not that it mattered. I was dating someone else now, right? I kept my own eyes on the road, and my thoughts on the problem at hand. “Ximon hates Othersphere. Why would he send his daughter there? And how? How did he do it? He connected himself to me and used my power to open up—what—a portal?”

“Pretty much,” Caleb said. “There was a weird vibration around him and that rope they put around Amaris.”

“It looked like the rope almost pulled her into Othersphere,” I said.

“Somehow it helped,” Caleb said. “It had a vibration that was friendly to both this world and Othersphere.”

“That must be why you bounced off. I tried to go through the portal, but whatever Ximon did kept me here till the window closed.”

“You were born in Othersphere.” For the first time Caleb turned his head slightly to look at me. His dark eyes were cold, assessing. “And he seemed to have planned on you being there. Maybe he needed someone or something from Othersphere to get that window open.”

“I’m sick of him predicting my every move,” I said, putting my hand on the hilt of the Shadow Blade. Cool calm spread through me, as it always did when I touched the Blade. It didn’t keep me from feeling emotion, but it helped me see through my feelings more clearly. “It keeps getting people . . . hurt.” I almost said, “killed,” thinking of Siku. The ache of missing him, which never left, grew even stronger.

Caleb was looking out the windshield again, his face remote. “You can’t take credit for everything,” he said. “It’s not all about you, Dez.”

My throat tightened and tears nearly spilled out of my eyes in spite of the Blade. His voice was so detached. Did I make everything about me? Or was Caleb maybe saying, in his new, unfriendly way, that I wasn’t to blame for Siku’s death?

I swallowed down my tears. No way was I going to let Caleb see me cry. It was bad enough he knew I’d followed his sister just to find him, no matter how much I denied it. I couldn’t break down in front of him. Not anymore.

“Morfael’s a traveler between worlds,” I said, referring to our teacher at the shifter school. “Let’s hope he can shed some light on this.”

As we pulled into the garage, London pelted up to us, her half-blond, half-black hair flying. “Amaris?” she asked, peering through the SUV’s windows as Caleb got slowly and painfully out, and I unpacked the motorcycle. “We all just figured you and Amaris were gone, Dez. You’re back, but where is she?”

I looked over at Caleb, to catch his eye because we both knew that London and Amaris were crazy about each other, even if they themselves hadn’t quite figured it out. But Caleb was looking at the ground, his face a mask, stepping carefully so as not to shake his injured head.

“Caleb?” London frowned. The two piercings in her nose glinted in the dim garage light. “Are you back now? Where’s Amaris?”

“Ximon took her,” Caleb said through gritted teeth. He was in more pain that he’d let on in the car.

London sucked in a gasp of horror. “What? Is she okay?”

“She was the last time we saw her,” I said. “It’s complicated. We need to get inside and tell everyone. Can you help Caleb? He’s got a concussion.”

“What? Sure.” London, lean as she was, could lift more weight than most boys her age. Some of her wolf-shifter strength remained with her even when she was in human form. She grabbed Caleb’s arm, steadying him. “What the hell happened?”

“Inside,” Caleb said, his breath short. “I need to sit down.”

I went ahead, carrying Caleb’s satchel, walking sloppily in his too-long black pants, too-broad black T-shirt, with his giant black sneakers flopping around my ankles.

Would it kill the guy to wear a color every now and then? Some part of me knew I was making up reasons to be annoyed with him. But it gave me a perverse comfort. What kind of pretentious jerk wears only black?

London helped settle Caleb on the couch while I ran around the school, yelling for folks to meet us in the living room. I found Lazar putting away the wallpaper and paste in the boys’ dorm room. He took one look at my face and strode up to me, taking my shoulders. “What’s wrong?”