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I look over my shoulder at the real door.
Then I make my choice.
I walk through the one I just conjured in the air.
Into a world of black and white.
Chapter Twelve
I watch as the flames fizzle out, the shape of the doorway fading until it’s gone and I’m still in the room.
Only everything is in black and white. I take a tentative step forward, afraid that the air might feel different or hold me back. I’m not even sure there is air. I try to breathe but nothing happens. When I walk, my shoes make a muted sound.
Fuck. Am I…dead?
Okay, don’t panic. Don’t panic.
I’m tempted to try again and create another door and step back into the normal room, the one with air and sound and color.
But then the real door leading to the ballroom opens.
And what comes in are shapes, white shimmery illusions of people. I make out Absolon’s striking figure, plus the old vampire and the woman, and Wolf too. They’re like ghosts, moving slow as if through quicksand.
But the door is open.
And every cell inside me is telling me to go.
I slip past the ghosts as they stop in the middle of the room, probably wondering where the hell I went. I might not have much time before someone finds me here, wherever the fuck I am.
So I move through Dark Eyes, fast, past the ghostly shapes of the guests, right through the back door, which doesn’t hold me back.
The house doesn’t hold me back.
I stumble out into the black and white night.
I’m free.
I look around, staring up at the Westerfeld house in awe. I stumble across the road to get a better view, shaking my head.
I’m free.
I start running up the rest of the hill, then start heading across Alamo Square.
The world is weird.
It looks like San Francisco, but only things with permanence are clear and solid and real, like buildings and trees. All the cars and people, the moving things, are pale ghosts, most too thin and transparent to really see properly.
And out of the corner of my eyes, there are sickly shadows moving along the side of a building.
I keep running, moving past the ghosts of people, through them sometimes, hit with a wave of nausea each time.
I hit Hayes Street, turn right down Laguna, and then I’m outside my apartment.
Ten blocks.
Ten fucking blocks away this whole time.
It’s not far enough either.
