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He shoved Lincoln back to the floor. Lincoln’s head cracked against the wood, hard enough that it bounced.
Mikey wiped his mouth with his arm. His nostrils flared, and his cheeks turned crimson. “You think you’re so smug, don’t you? You thought you were smarter than me. That you could best me. Ha. Joke’s on you. You’re at the end of the line.”
He wrapped his hand around Lincoln’s throat and began to squeeze. “It’s all over for you now, big brother.”
I shrieked and dove at Mikey. But this wasn’t real. It was all in my head. Or Lincoln’s. I didn’t know which.
My body floated right through Mikey, and I landed hard on the wood on his other side.
I kicked at him and then moved to my knees to punch him, but my feet and fists went straight through him. Tears blurred my vision and trickled down my cheeks. “No. Stop. Please, please stop.”
Lincoln’s eyes bulged. His fingers twitched, and his body shook like he might be having a seizure. He was too weak to do anything to defend himself. The wolfsbane coursed through his veins, poisoning him.
I crawled across the floor and peered over him, putting my hands on either side of his face. His eyes were glazed over and didn’t fixate on me.
I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Lincoln, please. Please fight for me and Sawyer, please. You have to fight him. Don’t give up. I’m right here. I’m with you.”
I couldn’t breathe. My chest tightened, and dots blotted my vision.
I screamed Lincoln’s name at the top of my lungs as my fingernails dug into his face, trying to get him to see me.
Lincoln blinked, his gaze landing on mine. He mouthed my name. I gasped, and then the room began to ebb away.
I shot my eyes open. The bed shook beneath me, and I was lying in a puddle of water.
I bolted up and twisted. Lincoln thrashed in the sheets. Sweat covered his body, and large droplets dribbled down his forehead, pooling on the pillow.
His breath became rapid and raspy. He kicked out with his feet, and his fists squeezed the sheets like a lifeline.
I put my hands on his face and gave him a gentle shake. “Lincoln. Lincoln, get up. Wake up.”
The heart monitor to my right went berserk, beeping and growing louder and faster by the second.
Reality dawned on me. I’d be in Lincoln’s mind and in his nightmare because he was dying.
But if he died there, did that mean he would die in real life?
Seven
Lincoln
My sneakers squeaked against the tile as I walked through the brightly lit mall. My heart pounded, and my mouth went dry. I clenched and unclenched my clammy hands against my thighs.
The shops were empty, all except for one. I knew where I was. When I was.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. My legs grew heavy the closer I drew to the corner. I knew what was waiting for me.
Pain and death.
Gunshots rang out, making me flinch. Screams echoed down the long corridor. Emotions clogged my throat. Part of me wanted to dig my heels into the floor and not go any farther, but my legs moved of their own volition.
Most people had escaped the mall unscathed.
My mom, sister, and I hadn’t been so lucky. We were in the shop the gunman had been targeting. The police said it was a jealous ex, and it was a case of the wrong place at the wrong time.
I’d spent too many nights wondering if there was something else I could have done. If I’d been stronger, maybe they would still be alive.
Then Dad wouldn’t have gone insane. This war would have never started. Sloane wouldn’t have a target on her back, and Sawyer wouldn’t have to play a double agent.
