realize I’m not breathing. I don’t want to inhale. I don’t want to move or even blink, for fear that if I do, Whitley will blow away and disappear.
Bodily functions aren’t necessary in dreams. I’m not supposed to feel pain here, but I fear my heart might burst.
Whitley’s body finally comes into focus, and she’s not wearing much. There’s a blue, skin-tight bodysuit covering her torso. Her toned legs are bare and so are her feet. She’s skinny. Almost too thin. It makes her look so young and vulnerable.
Wanting to cover her, I start undoing the button-up shirt I fell asleep in.
But then I remember she’s not really here. This is just my father’s vision.
“She’s twenty-one,” he continues. “A college student in Vermont. To explain the lack of clothing, she works as a lifeguard at a swimming pool. This is what she looked like the last time I saw her, so it’s the freshest in my mind.”
“She’s so perfect.” She starts to fade, and I make a noise of protest as I crawl forward. She’s gone before I can reach her feet, and I end up scraping dirt. I shoot a glare at my father. “You could’ve let me look at her a while longer.”
“There are urgent matters at hand,” he says, as if he heard me. “You know how the clock ticks in the Earth realm.”
I do know. A day there is an entire year here.
Rubbing my temple, I do the math. It’s been about two years since Kirian brought Quinn to Valora. Meaning, in the human realm, it’s only two days after my cousin’s wife left her original home.
I need to sit down.
Plopping back into my seat next to my father, I mutter, “Could it be? That I’d find my mate so soon after Kirian found his?”
“Now for the bad news.” He clears his throat. “This evening, Whitley was in an automobile accident.”
“What?!” My heart misses three full beats.
“I’m afraid this is my fault. Your mother and I concocted a scheme to get Whitley to come to us. Last year, we opened a resort—a dark sky park up in the mountains where there’s a lot of good portal access. It just so happens your mate is interested in astronomy. We thought if we could lure her there, we could send her to you.” He holds up a hand before I can point out how wrong it would’ve been to make her come to Valora without her permission. “I know. Like I said, we were desperate. She was set to arrive tonight. Our plan would’ve worked if there hadn’t been… an interference.”
“Tell me she’s okay!” I want to shake him, but when I reach out, my hands go through his body like he’s made of air.
“Apparently, she decided to bring her parents with her. Her mother and father died instantly when their car went off the road. Whitley was airlifted to the nearest hospital where she’s currently fighting for her life.” He swallows hard. “I’m so sorry, my son. We’ve gathered as much information as we can. Your mother’s abilities are subdued here, but they’re not gone. You know how persuasive she can be.”
I nod.
I don’t doubt my mother had the doctor spilling confidential shit. She’s one of the best Callers I’ve ever known. Although, admittedly, I haven’t met many. Being able to summon someone, to convince them to do things they normally wouldn’t, to get them to tell secrets—it’s a rare power.
Father takes a deep breath. “Here’s what we know. In addition to internal bleeding and some broken bones, Whitley experienced severe head trauma. She’s in a coma, and they’re not sure if she has any brain activity left or what she’ll be like if she does wake up. If they deem it necessary… they could shut off the machines that are keeping her alive.”
That would be the worst-case scenario. Losing her before I even met her. Not only would I remain blind forever, I’d also be tortured by the absence of someone I never had in the first place.
“What can I do?” I rasp, searching my father’s serious face for a hint of hope.
“Visit her dreams. Find out what’s going on in that head of hers.”
For once, my power makes sense—this is fate. It has to be. No one can determine the state of Whitley’s brain like I can.
My vision goes dark as I bolt up in my bed. Heart racing, I sprint from my room, down the hall, and to the stairs.
As I tear through the