Through The Fire

The girl’s eyes flicked toward her. Even in the dim light, Lila could see the fractured glassiness behind them. “I don’t need a name,” the girl said softly. Lila’s throat tightened. Her chest felt cold, hollow. There was a sick sort of recognition in the way the girl’s eyes reflected the light, a shadow of herself, broken and remade into something else. Elias’s voice crackled through her ear again, low and tense. “Lila?”

“We’re moving,” she answered, keeping her voice steady even though her hands felt cold. She gestured for Harper to advance. Anya slid forward, her hand grazing the wall. The surface beneath her fingers pulsed faintly, as though the walls themselves were alive. The girl pressed close to Lila’s side. “It’s not too late,” she whispered. Lila’s mouth hardened. “For what?” “To leave.” Lila’s gaze sharpened. “Why would I leave now?” The girl’s eyes widened slightly. Her breath quickened. “Because he’s waiting for you.” Harper motioned them forward. “Clear.”

They advanced through the narrow corridor. The red light at the end flickered in a stuttering rhythm, casting jagged shadows over the walls. Lila’s pulse quickened. The girl’s hand brushed hers cold, fragile. Lila almost pulled away, but the girl’s fingers curled over her knuckles. Desperation tightened her grip. “You don’t have to do this,” the girl whispered. Lila’s jaw flexed. “I’m not going to run.” The girl’s mouth parted slightly. Her eyes darkened. “Then you’re walking into a trap.”

Lila already knew that. She’d known from the beginning. But running had never been an option. She would face this face him because there was no other choice. “Movement ahead,” Harper whispered. Lila shifted toward the front, her gaze hardening. She saw the dark shape at the far end of the corridor, half-dissolved into the shadows. The red light flickered again. The shape moved. Elias’s voice sharpened in her ear. “Lila”

“I see it,” Lila breathed. The figure at the end of the corridor stepped forward. Tall, broad-shouldered, the outline of his frame sharp against the pulsing light. Lila’s breath hitched. It was him. The figure’s head tilted slightly, as though examining them. A deep, measured breath drifted through the air. The girl’s grip on Lila’s hand tightened. Her breath quickened. “No,” the girl whispered.

Lila stepped forward. Her hand hovered over her weapon. “Show yourself.” The figure’s mouth curled. He stepped into the light. Cold recognition jolted through Lila’s chest. His face was smooth, calm, almost handsome, except for the absolute emptiness behind his eyes. “Lila,” he said softly. “It’s been a long time.” Lila’s throat tightened. “Not long enough.” A thin smile curved his mouth. “And yet you’re here.” Lila’s hand tightened over the grip of her weapon. “Let her go.”

His gaze flicked toward the girl at Lila’s side. The girl’s body trembled. Her hand slipped from Lila’s. “You don’t understand,” the girl whispered. “He’s already inside.” Lila’s breath sharpened. “What?” The girl stepped back. Her eyes darkened. Her pupils dilated. “He’s already inside.”

Lila’s pulse spiked. The girl’s hand shot toward her chest. Lila barely deflected it in time, twisting her wrist and forcing her back. The girl gasped, stumbled, and dropped to her knees. “What the hell is going on?” Harper demanded. The girl’s body shuddered. Her eyes flicked toward Lila…wide, fearful. “Run,” the girl whispered. “He’s inside.”

A low rumble vibrated through the corridor. The red lights flared, flooding the walls with a harsh, sickening glow. The man at the end of the corridor smiled faintly. “It’s too late,” he said softly. Lila lunged forward. Harper shouted something behind her, but Lila’s focus narrowed on the figure ahead. Her weapon came up, her breath sharp. She fired.

The bullet struck the wall behind him. He was gone. A low breath drifted through the air. A shadow swept toward her. Lila felt the cold pressure of a hand on her wrist before the floor pitched beneath her feet. The walls trembled. The red lights pulsed in a jagged, staccato rhythm. Lila’s breath tore from her throat as her back struck the ground. The figure crouched over her, his hand pressing lightly against her collarbone. His face hovered inches from hers. “You should have stayed away,” he said softly.

Lila’s breath sharpened. “Not a chance.” A gunshot rang out. The figure’s head jerked sideways. Harper shouted. Lila rolled, her shoulder slamming into the floor as the figure dissolved into the dark. “Lila!” Elias’s voice sharpened in her ear. “I’m fine,” Lila gasped, staggering upright. Harper hauled her to her feet. Anya pressed to her side, her weapon raised toward the darkness ahead. “Did you hit him?” Harper demanded.

“Maybe,” Lila said breathlessly. A faint laugh drifted through the corridor. “You can’t kill a ghost,” the voice whispered. Lila’s breath sharpened. The girl was still on the floor, her hands pressed to her chest. Her breath hitched, frantic. Lila crouched beside her. “Are you hurt?” The girl’s gaze lifted. Her eyes were glassy. “He’s still here,” she whispered. Lila’s pulse hammered. She touched the girl’s shoulder. “Stay with me.”

The girl’s gaze darkened. “He’s already inside.” The corridor trembled. A deep, resonant hum vibrated through the air. Lila’s breath stilled. Harper’s gaze sharpened. “What’s that sound?” The girl’s breath quickened. Her hand curled around Lila’s wrist. “Run,” the girl whispered.

The wall ahead shattered. A violent wave of sound ripped through the corridor. Lila’s breath tore from her throat as the floor tilted beneath her feet. A powerful force struck her back, knocking the air from her lungs. She hit the ground hard. Her vision blurred. Harper shouted something. A hand gripped her wrist, pulling her upward. Lila’s breath ripped from her chest as a figure emerged from the smoke and debris. Not him. Someone else.

“Come on,” Elias’s voice snapped in her ear. Lila stumbled upright. Her pulse hammered. She pulled the girl to her feet. “Go!” They ran. The corridor trembled beneath their feet. Shadows swept across the walls. The laughter followed them low and sharp. “You can’t outrun this,” the voice whispered.

Lila’s jaw hardened. She didn’t look back. Her fingers tightened around the girl’s wrist. Her breath tore through her chest. The red light ahead flickered, casting jagged shadows across the walls. They reached the door at the end of the corridor. Harper slammed the override. The door hissed open. Lila shoved the girl through, turning back as the shadows closed in. A hand shot out of the dark. Lila’s breath seized. Fingers curled around her arm. Cold and sharp. Her gaze lifted. The figure’s face hovered inches from hers. “You shouldn’t have come here,” he whispered. Lila’s hand shot toward her weapon. Her breath sharpened. “Watch me.”

The gunshot exploded through the air. The hand released her. Lila stumbled back. Harper yanked her through the door. It slammed shut behind them. The red light blinked once then died. Lila’s breath tore from her chest. The girl’s hand curled tightly around hers. Their eyes met. The girl’s breath hitched. “You can’t kill a ghost,” the girl whispered. Lila’s jaw tightened. Her pulse hammered through her chest. “Watch me,” Lila said softly.