Read Luna Proxy #5 Page 5


  "Can you. . .are you able to transform with me around? Even just your hands?" I asked him.

  Vincent stiffened. He held out one hand in front of him. I could see one side of his face. His troubled expression was clouded with doubt.

  "I. . .I haven't really tried," he admitted.

  I gestured at the room around us. "With a couple of ghosts trying to do who-knows-what to us, I think now is as good a time as ever."

  Vincent turned away from the fire so one full half of his body faced me. He held out his hands in front of him and scrunched up his face in concentration. I watched mesmerized as his body tensed. His fingers twitched and curled. After a long moment he breathed out and his body relaxed. He dropped his hands onto his lap and shook his head.

  "I can't do it," he murmured.

  I raised an eyebrow. "Can't or won't?"

  Vincent raised his head and frowned. "I-" I held up my hand.

  "I'm not trying to say you didn't try, but Celo mentioned that you were denying yourself. Maybe you're still denying yourself," I pointed out.

  Vincent turned away from me and shrugged. "Maybe. . ."

  I snorted and hopped off the bed. "Probably. Who wants to believe they're a monster?"

  He cringed. "I don't want-"

  "Exactly," I interrupted as I strode over and knelt in front of him. I scooped the back of his hands into my palms and smiled at him. A faint blush came to his cheeks as he blinked at me. "You think you're a monster in that form, but you're not. You've saved me more times than I care to admit, and all in that form."

  "Leila. . ." he whispered.

  I levitated our hands between us and gave his a little squeeze. "Now let's see if my being a proxy makes any difference. Try to transform now."

  Vincent pursed his lips, but nodded. He stared at his hands. His body tensed again. I felt the vibrations through his hands as he focused on becoming something he wanted to believe didn't exist.

  My eyes widened as I watched his fingers lengthen. His nails sharpened into dagger-like points, and hair sprouted from the back of his hand. The tiny, soft hairs brushed against my skin. They tickled me and I couldn't help but giggle a little.

  Vincent lost focus. His hand reverted back to that of a human. "Are you all right?" he asked me.

  I gathered my wits and dropped our hands to the floor. "Yeah. I'm fine. That was pretty-" I pulled my hands away, but he grasped them.

  I looked up into his emerald eyes. The light reflected their deep, bright color. A faint blush warmed my cheeks. Vincent's voice was a soft, tense whisper as he leaned close to me. Our noses almost brushed against each other. My pulse quickened and my eyes unwillingly flew down to his lips.

  "Leila, I-"

  "Is!"

  "Isn't!"

  The door flew open. Bram and Quill stalked into the room. Vincent and I broke apart. I turned to them and glared.

  "What the hell are you two talking about now?" I growled.

  My voice cut through their loud words and Quill and Bram jerked to a stop. Quill glanced from Vincent to me. A sly grin slipped onto his lips. He leaned his elbow on Bram's head and chuckled.

  "Did we interrupt something?" he teased.

  Bram pushed Quill's arm off his head and glared at the man. "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "I'll tell you when you're older, Pipsqueak. For now I'd like to know what our next step is," Quill commented.

  Vincent rose to his feet. "We stick together two pairs. One stays awake while the other rests."

  Quill raised an eyebrow. "That's it? That's your plan?"

  "You got a better one?" Bram quipped.

  Quill nodded. "Yeah, we get out of here. Now."

  "We can't leave without going into the fog, and that isn't the safest route right now," I argued. "We wait here until morning and then leave."

  "So you're going to believe all this garbage about ghosts, too?" Quill asked me.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned. "I know there's something out there, and it isn't friendly. If you want to leave, go right ahead. Nobody's keeping you here."

  Quill smiled and shook his head. "After driving and hiking this far, I'm not about to loose my scoop. I'll stay."

  "All right," Vincent spoke up. He turned to me. "Leila and I will be one pair, and you two will be the other."

  "What?" the two shouted in unison.

  "No way!" Bram insisted.

  "I'd rather risk the fog," Quill added.

  "The fog is most interested in Leila, so I need to stay with her," Vincent pointed out.

  "Why don't we all just stay in the same room?" Quill suggested. He gestured to the hearth. "At least Leila's pad has a fireplace. Mine feels like I'm about to be flooded out by the water in the walls and mattress."

  Vincent sighed. "All right. We'll stay together and take turns sleeping. Agreed?"

  "Agreed."

  CHAPTER 9

  I dreamed a different dream. There was no valley of death, no crevice of fire, no Dark Vincent. There was only the cabin and the woods around the cabin. I faced the home with my back to the lake. The windows blazed with lights. A shadow rushed from one glass to the other. The faint sound of a man's shout reached my ears.

  "Lillian! Adriana!"

  A noise behind me caught my attention. I spun around and glimpsed the lake in all its reflective beauty. The clear sky was mirrored on the calm surface. A faint, wispy fog floated across the waters. A long, narrow dock stretched into the lake. In the distance I glimpsed a boat.

  Two figures sat in the boat and faced one another. One of them stood. The other mirrored their action. They locked arms and grappled. The boat rocked side to side. I tried to shout, to warn them they were being stupid, but my voice wouldn't come out. I was numb. I could only stand by and watch as the boat capsized. The opponents were thrown into the water. The fog enveloped them.

  A shadowy figure rushed from the French doors and down the steps. They flew past me too fast to see them and rushed across the dock. They dove into the lake just as a thick wall of fog rose from the waters. The scene was covered by the mist.

  The floating white terror swept over the dock and across the beach. I tried to flee, but my legs wouldn't obey. The fog drew closer. Three yards. Three feet. I threw up my arms and shut my eyes.

  "Leila~"

  My eyes shot open and I started up. I sat on the bed in my room borrowed from Umbra. The fire in the hearth was a pile of red embers. What little glow they gave off cast more darkness than light. Sweat trailed down my forehead and I gasped for air.

  "Leila~"

  I whipped my head around. The voice seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. A chill invaded the room. I wrapped my arms around myself and breathed out. A puff of white air escaped my pale lips.

  I glanced over the room. It was empty but for me. When I lay down for my break they sat around the warm fire. The skin before the hearth was empty.

  "Vincent?" I called. No reply. "Bram? Quill?" They were all gone. I was alone.

  "Leila~"

  I shuddered. The voice wasn't anyone I knew. A light caught my attention. I turned to my left where sat the vanity. A soft glow emitted from the mirror against the wall. The light reflected off my skin. I found myself captured by its brilliance.

  The light beckoned me like a moth to a flame. I swung my legs off the bed and stood. The glow grew brighter as I approached the mirror. The reflection showed me and the room behind me. I reached out and pressed my palm against the glowing surface.

  The me in the mirror smiled. I didn't smile in return. The echoing voice of my doppelganger, my voice, called to me.

  "Leila~"

  "Who are you?" I whispered.

  My reflection's smile widened. A cold glint twinkled in her eyes. "I'm you, of course."

  I frowned. "What are you?"

  She tilted her head back and laughed. The sound was chilling. It echoed over the room and filled me with a tremble filled with damp, cold fear. I tried to pull my hand away
, but my palm was stuck to the surface.

  "Let me go!" I shouted.

  The reflection stopped her insane laughter and shook her head. "No. You see, I'm very tired of this existence, but you can help me. You can be my proxy to the real world, the living world."

  "I can't do anything like that, now let me go!" I demanded. I grabbed my wrist and pulled. My fingers didn't budge.

  The woman chuckled. "I know you can. I can feel it. He feels it, too. That's why he stays close to you. That's why it's taken so long for me to get at you. But in this world, you're mine."

  She stretched out her free hand and reached through the mirror. Her arm that broke the divide between reality and reflection changed. The flesh rotted and dripped with water. The nails were claws, and moss hung from her fingers. A rancid smell invaded my nostrils. She wrapped her putrid arm around me. Her grin widened to an impossible width.

  "Now let's into the world of reflection, into the soul, and see what you can give me," she cooed.

  I let out a piercing scream as she pulled me into the mirror. The glass around me rippled as I sank into an impenetrable darkness. My reflection released me and I fell headlong into the black world.

  The fall lasted for a few seconds. I hit hard ground and dust flew up around me. The dirt filled my lungs and choked me. I grabbed my throat with one hand and coughed. The fit passed, and so did the dust. The dirt fell away and revealed a familiar sight.

  The valley of desolation.

  I frowned as I climbed to my feet. The valley was just as I remembered from my dream, but the mounts at the edges were surrounded by a dense white fog. The canyon was nearby. The red-hued light that emanated from the crack told me the lava ran through it this time.

  "What an interesting soul," a woman's voice mused.

  It was the unfamiliar voice, the one that had beckoned me to the mirror.

  I spun around and whipped my head left and right. No one was there. "Who are you?" I called out. My voice echoed across the barren wasteland.

  The woman chuckled. "You really are a foolish girl, aren't you? What memories. What wasted potential. Do you think you impress anyone with your cold attitude? Do you believe you impress him?"

  "What the hell are you talking about?" I growled.

  "Why, your precious werewolf," she returned. 'Do you honestly believe he loves you? You, who loves no one?" The voice echoed around me. Those words penetrated deep into my body and mind. I clapped my hands over my ears and shut my eyes.

  "Who are you?" I screamed.

  "I'm you."

  The voice no longer echoed. I opened my eyes and beheld a beautiful woman. She wore a white dress that brushed against the ground. The high collar and long sleeves ended in ruffled lace. A broach with a face carved from ivory accented her collar just above her buttons. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun.

  She was also transparent.

  I lowered my hands and glared at her. "You're not me," I argued.

  She closed her eyes and chuckled. "No, at least not yet. You see, your body is quite special. I sensed the uniqueness the moment you approached the water." Her eyes flew open and a crooked smile slipped onto her pale lips. "Though your body is young, there's a part of your soul that's very old."

  My eyes narrowed. "What about my soul?"

  She swept a hand over the valley around us. "This is your soul. They say eyes are a window to the soul. So are mirrors, at least for spirits. I have brought you from your dreams into your soul."

  "Why?" I questioned her.

  She clasped her hands in front of her and chuckled. "Why, to take your body for myself and escape this horrible existence."

  I balled my hands into fists at my sides. "Like hell I'm letting you do that."

  She shrugged and shook her head. "I'm afraid you have no choice. There's no one here to stop me." She opened her arms and took a step towards me. "Now don't be difficult. Let me embrace you and we will be joined."

  I tried to step back, but my feet wouldn't lift off the ground. I grabbed my legs one at a time and tugged. They wouldn't move.

  The woman drew closer. Ten feet. Five. I could see a horrible glint in her eyes. It was a hungry stare.

  "Don't struggle. This will be painless," she assured me.

  "Back away!" a voice cried out.

  From the earth between the woman and me arose a dark shadow. The shadow formed into a familiar figure: Dark Vincent, and yet he was something more. His human body was replaced by his werewolf form. He stood tall with his clawed hands against his sides. His coat billowed around him as he snarled at the woman.

  "Vincent?" I whispered.

  The woman took a step back and pressed her arms against her chest. Her eyes narrowed and her smile turned into a sneer. "So you're why her soul is so old. Step aside, Prime. A soul has no use for such an ugly thing as you."

  "You are the only ugly thing here," he shot back. He lunged forward and swiped at her.

  The woman jumped back and landed neatly on her feet in a crouched position. When she stood I saw that she was changed. Her pure dress was now awash with algae. The marble skin was broken by rot and bone. Her face was half skeletal, and her eyes burned with an unholy gray light. She curled back her lips and showed off long, black teeth.

  "Even you cannot forbid me from taking this woman," she hissed.

  "You can't take her if you're destroyed," he shot back.

  Dark Vincent lunged at her. The woman dodged his swings and turned away. The fog around the mountains rushed towards us as though propelled by a swift wind. The creature ran into the wall of white and disappeared. The Dark Vincent made to follow her.

  I stretched out my hand towards him. "Wait!" The Dark Vincent paused. He turned his head and glanced over his shoulder. "Who are you?" I asked him.

  A smirk slipped onto his lips. "I'm you."

  Then he, too, disappeared into the mist.

  CHAPTER 10

  I was alone. The fog surrounded me on all sides. Even the bright glow from the canyon vanished into the gloom. A cold, wet chill fell over me. I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered.

  A shadowed memory came to mind. The woman had mentioned this was my soul, that this bleak, empty valley, with its dry floor and terrible canyon, was a reflection of my inner self. The only other living thing I had created, nurtured in this pit of nothingness, was a twisted version of Vincent. My heart sank.

  I stood in the midst of ruin and wondered if this was truly me.

  "Is it true?" I whispered.

  "Leila?"

  I straightened and whipped my head around. "Vincent?" I called.

  "Leila!" It was Vincent's voice. The sound came from everywhere around me.

  I rushed forward a few steps. "Vincent!"

  "Where are you?" he asked me.

  "Yeah. All we're getting is a spooky echo," Quill spoke up.

  "She probably found a secret tunnel and locked herself in," Bram suggested.

  I balled my hands into fists and glared at the wall of fog in front of me. "I didn't get myself stuck anywhere! I was dragged in here!"

  "Bu where's here?" Quill wondered.

  "In the vanity mirror in my room," I told him.

  "You mean behind it?" Quill called back.

  "No, in the mirror!" I shouted.

  "Are you serious?" Quill asked me.

  I rolled my eyes. "Is Vincent there?"

  "Yeah."

  "You're standing next to a werewolf and now you're doubting the paranormal?" I commented.

  There was a pause. "That remains to be seen, but good point. How'd you get in there?"

  "A ghost dragged me in here," I explained.

  "Okay. So how do we get you out?" he wondered.

  I shrugged. "How should I know?"

  "What if we broke the mirror?" Bram suggested.

  "This isn't like the movies, Pipsqueak. She could be trapped in there forever," Quill pointed out.

  "Leila?" It was Vincent's voice again. "Can you see anything in the
re?"

  "No, just fog, but I'm pretty sure I'm standing in a big, desolate valley," I replied.

  There was a long pause. When Vincent spoke his voice was strained. "Is there. . .are there mountains around the valley? Large, jagged ones?"

  I raised an eyebrow. "Usually, why?"

  "Can you see a canyon near you?"

  I frowned. "Probably, but how'd you know that?"

  "You need to fall into the canyon. That should get you out," he instructed me.

  "A canyon? Are you nuts?" Quill retorted.

  "I don't think you want me to do that, Vincent. That canyon's usually filled with lava," I told him.

  "Trust me."

  I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. "Trust him. . ." I grumbled as I stepped cautiously through the fog in the direction I hoped the canyon lay. "Trust the guy who somehow knows what my soul looks like-" I paused and furrowed my brow. "How the hell does he know what it looks like?"

  "The acoustics are great out here," Quill warned me.

  I looked up and glared at the sky. "How do you know what this place looks like, Vincent?"

  "Because I've seen it," he replied.

  I rolled my eyes. "But where have you seen it?"

  "In my dreams."

  "Seriously? You guys are getting way too weird for me," Quill commented.

  "And how did you get out of here?" I asked Vincent.

  "I fall into the canyon," he told me.

  "You fall into a canyon to wake up?" Bram spoke up.

  "Yeah."

  "Every time?"

  "Yeah."

  "Even for a werewolf, you have issues," the kid commented.

  "I'm well aware of that."

  "Guys, a little more focus," I called to them.

  "Did you fall down that canyon yet?" Quill asked me.

  "No."

  "Then keep walking."

  I ground my teeth together and marched into the fog. "This isn't easy when there's fog every-ah!" The toes of my lead foot slipped over the edge of the canyon. I teetered on the brink, but my flailing arms swung me away from the drop.

  "Leila!" Vincent shouted. "Leila, are you okay?"

  "Yeah. I just found the canyon," I replied. I leaned over the edge. The fog only floated at surface level so that I could see the river of flowing lava. "Are you sure about this, Vincent?"

  "Positive."

  I straightened and took a deep breath. "If you're wrong I'm coming back to haunt you."

  I heard a faint chuckle. "I'd like nothing better."