The Nightmare (The Mist #2) - Regine Abel Page 0,18

was what I had asked you about earlier. When a Mistwalker touches a human, he can choose to implant a part of him in that person as some sort of beacon.”

“A beacon for what?!” I asked, bewildered. “Clearly, he already knew how to find me, both eleven years ago and today!”

“Yes,” Thomson conceded in an irritatingly soft voice. He was trying to calm me so that we could talk rationally, but I just wanted to break something. “However, he could only do that during the Mist. Once the portals open, and he enters our realm, as his creator, you shine bright like a beacon that he can easily go to. But once it recedes, he is completely in the dark, unless you are asleep.”

“And now?” I asked, dreading where that was headed.

“Now, he can contact you at any time, even after the Mist has ended.”

“WHAT?!”

“BUT that brand doesn’t give him access to your house,” Thomson quickly added, before I could freak out again. “He cannot enter without your express consent, as is currently the case with all Mist Beings. Furthermore, there is a cost to him using this connection. As long as he is in the Mist, if you aren’t dreaming, contacting you through this link will be extremely costly, energy-wise. But if he’s here in human form, then being anchored by his creator becomes necessary for him to be able to stay for extended periods of time.”

The expression on his face, the intensity in his eyes, and the way he pronounced those last words gave me a cold shiver as understanding dawned on me. I took a step back, eyeing him with horror.

“You wanted this to happen,” I whispered, feeling betrayed.

Had I been so gullible? Had he been playing me from the start? To my complete shock, he didn’t even try to deny it.

“Yes, Ms. Connors. I had wanted you to anchor him to our world,” he admitted without the slightest hint of remorse. “But not like this. I had hoped it would not only be consensual, but that you would be the one to offer it to Zain as an incentive for him to join our cause.”

I gaped at Thomson, speechless.

“Ms. Connors,” Dr. Chandra intervened, “Just like Alfred… I mean, Director Thomson, I have been with the Fourth Division pretty much since its inception, fifteen years ago. We have never seen a Mistwalker as powerful as yours. Never. The glass wall has been tested under hundreds of scenarios with both Beasts and Walkers. None of them ever even managed to make a dent in it. We didn’t trick you.”

She took a shuddering breath and clasped her trembling hands before her. The sight of the woman visibly struggling to control her emotions and maintain her composure made me forget part of my own anger and distress as confusion settled in.

“Six years ago, my baby brother died to a Nightmare named Morgan,” she said with a shaky voice. “His creator was the sweetest woman you could ever meet. An artist whose biggest crimes had been slightly going over the speed limit and not properly sorting her recyclable wastes.”

Like I had done previously, she hugged her midsection.

Thomson gave her a commiserating look before pursuing in her stead. “Dr. Chandra’s brother, Rajiv, was one of the agents assigned to eliminating that abomination. He and far too many of my other agents died, not to mention countless innocent civilians. If such a nice woman as Jade managed to involuntarily conjure up that abomination, imagine what the real monsters and sociopaths out there have been unconsciously unleashing on our world through their own Nightmares?”

I felt my blood drain from my face. “Are you saying that Zain—”

“No,” Dr. Chandra stated forcefully. Having regained her composure, she lifted her chin with determination. “Your Nightmare is not a monster like Morgan, or Darryl who is out there currently killing people. That mark is the proof,” she said when I opened my mouth to argue. “The killers rarely brand their creators. But the few that do make sure it’s as painful and excruciating a process as possible.”

“Why?” I asked, confused.

“Because the anchor mainly serves to allow a Walker to stay here without the need to siphon others,” Thomson said. “Which in turn also means they have to be careful since not doing so keeps them weak.”

“Whereas Nightmares don’t need an anchor since they coldly go out and gorge on as many victims as they can to become as powerful as possible,” I concluded, understanding dawning on me. They