Chapter 16: Zain

Five months. Five fucking months.

He's hiding something from us.

I know, I know. I just wish he trusted us enough to tell us what it was.

It's something to do with Amri. There's a reason he wants her physically trained.

Fucking Amri. Our relationship with Vincent was perfectly fine until she came into the picture.

Yes, I…feel something for her. But I don't want to. I don't want to be caught up in this mess Vincent has put us in. He's hiding something from his father, from us, and this whole thing has turned into a shitshow.

He stayed for a few minutes after our conversation and then he got called away to collect a soul. Probably a good thing he did anyway. He may have exerted his dominance, but Callyx was rising up ready to exert his as well, and that would've ended in bloodshed of some kind. Either the type you get from fighting or the type you get from fucking.

I do like my knives.

Oh, shut up .

I'm getting bored of waiting on Vincent. He's been gone for hours and all I've been doing is laying on his bed, stewing in my anger. Deciding enough is enough, I stand up, grabbing my discarded shirt off the bed and sliding it on.

I walk over to the mirror and step through. The atmosphere inside is immediately suffocating. The silver thickness surrounding me as I continue to walk through. The humming barely even registering in my ears.

The first time I walked through the mirror, it felt like I was walking through mud, but the more I entered into this…portal, of sorts, the easier it has become. I can't see where I'm going, but I don't stress over it, that's the way of the mirror. If you're trying to get back to yourself, your mortal body, it's easy to find your way. It's easy to see where you're going. If you have no real place in mind, the mirror will take you to where your subconscious wants to be.

I've travelled to Greece and Asia, but I've also traveled back in time to relive moments from life. The night I first met Vincent is a common place I go back to, but so is the night I killed my mother. It depends on my mood.

I see another mirror a few feet in front of me. The glass is frosted over and disguising what I'm heading toward. My heart begins to beat faster as I reach my hand through the mirror, but it drops when I step through.

I'm in Amri's dream. She looks the same, but the room we're in looks to be the bedroom of a child. Fingerpainting's line the wall and a toybox sits in the corner of the room. I look over to her dresser and find some school awards sitting up against the wall. First grade awards. My eyes travel back to her sleeping form lying on the bed.

Dreams are weird. Vincent has tried explaining them to me before, but it's hard to make sense of them. Sometimes dreams don't make any sense, or they're of places you've never been with people you've never seen. Other times, they're thoughts of the future or memories of the past. In those dreams, you either look the same and your mind changes to the age you would be, or both your body and your mind changes to the age you would be. It looks like her body has stayed the same, but I could bet money her mind is the mind of a six-year-old right now.

The door creaks open behind me, and I turn to see an older man entering the room before closing the door behind him. Scruff lines his cheeks and chin, his brown hair is in disarray around his face – he looks like a mess.

I choke and wave my hand in front of my face when he walks past me. "Good God." He reeks to high heaven. The smell of alcohol lingers where he walked past, but that's no longer what I'm concerned about.

He's standing over Amri's sleeping form, watching her with a look in his eyes that makes me want to strangle him. I watch as he slides the blanket off her body, leaving her in a unicorn nightgown. Her hands are wrapped around a brown teddy bear that looks like its seen better days.

That's her father. You need to wake her up. Now.

How?

I don't think I can wake her up since technically, I'm dreaming, too. I'm not really here.

Her father reaches down and runs his fingers down her leg, and I hear her whimper. I don't know when she woke up, but she's obviously completely aware of what's happening.

Now, Zain! Wake her up now!

"Amri!" I shout her name over and over again, but the only noise out of her is more whimpers as her father continues to touch her.

She's not waking up, Callyx.

I look around the room, trying to find something that I could use to wake her up, but the only things beside her bed and dresser are her small toys and the mirror. I walk over to the wall and start to beat on it with my fists, all the while screaming her name. Still, she doesn't turn toward me. She doesn't give any inclination that she heard me at all.

The mirror. Get her to the mirror.

I walk back over to Amri and try to grab her hand, but mine goes right through, like I'm a ghost.

Oh God, Vincent warned me about this. If you weren't a part of the memory, then you don't exist. I've asked him to go into my past with me and he told me he could, but I wouldn't even know he was there. I wouldn't be able to see, hear, or feel him. That's what is happening now with Amri.

Just bring the mirror to her.

Is that even possible?

It should be. Mirrors we walk through are infused with Vincent's magic. This one should be, too.

I walk over to the mirror propped up against the wall and try to grab it.

Yes! It worked.

I quickly walk back over to Amri's bed and line the mirror up above her body.

Please, please, please let this work.

I slowly drop the mirror over her body, grunting softly at the effort. She's not entering the mirror on her own and the mirror doesn't seem to like that .

Finally, the mirror touches the mattress, and when I pull it up, Amri's body is gone.

At least we could save her this one time.

We will kill her father one day.

I set the mirror back against the wall and then walk back over to her father. He stands, staring blankly at her bed like he's still looking at her. I slide my body in between him and the bed.

"I know what you did to her. I know how she used to beg and scream for you to stop." I take a deep breath, clenching my fists together. "And I also know, I will be the last face you see before you die. You will be begging me for mercy, and I will not grant it. I will make your death slow, painful, and I will make you regret the day you started looking at a little girl as anything more than that."

With that, I turn and walk through the mirror, Amri the only thought on my mind.

The silver sludge isn't as hard to get through now, not when it's so important that I get to Amri as soon as possible. If she doesn't remember the dream, perfect. If she does…I'm scared to know how it's going to affect her.

Has she had these dreams before? Does she have them often? I shudder with the thought. How many times has she woken up screaming and in tears and then when about her day as if everything was fine?

I know she dreams with me most of the time and goes to Vincent's room, but what about when he's out collecting souls? What about before she comes to Vincent's, or after? Dreams don't last the whole night like most people think – dreams are quick, whole weeks that can pass by in the blink of an eye. A person could live out a lifetime in one night .

I see Vincent's room ahead of me, and Amri on the bed curled into a ball much like she was in her old bedroom. I continue forward, urging my body to push past the resistance of the silver surrounding me.

"Amri!" As soon as I feel the sludge of the mirror fall away, I run over to the bed. She's curled into a ball, her body shaking with the force of the sobs coming out of her mouth.

I sit next to her, rubbing her back. "Hey, bunny, can you sit up for me?"

"How did I get here?" Her question is broken apart by her deep, shaky breaths.

"I brought you here…I went into your dream, and I couldn't let you stay there, so I forced you through the mirror."

Her head shoots up and her eyes bore into mine, her eyebrows narrowed. I hate that she's crying, but God, it makes her even more beautiful. Her blue eyes are so bright, the tears bringing the color to the surface. Her freckles seem darker than normal, and her lips are swollen. Swollen and kissable.

"You…you saw…?"

The question lingers in the air.

"Oh my God…you saw. You saw me and…and him."

"Amri – "

I reach for her, but she pulls away, sucking in deep breaths of air while she wraps her arms around her stomach. Her sobs get deeper, and I can tell she's not getting enough air.

"Bunny, I need you to calm down. You're going to hyperventilate."

Her sobs get louder. Tears stream down her face, chin and neck until they drop down and hit the bed. She starts gasping for air, eyes squeezed shut and hands holding onto her shirt as she begins rocking back and forth.

"Amri. Amri, breath for me."

I count to ten, giving her ten more seconds to take a breath, but she doesn't. I push her back on the bed, grabbing her arms and lifting them above her head. I hold her wrists with one hand and use the other one to grab her chin. Her chest continues to heave up and down, but her eyes are wide and glazed over. She's not here with me, she's reliving it. I don't know what to do.

I don't know what to do.

Let me in.