Free Dangerous Designs by Dale Mayer [paranormal/YA] Page A

some kind of laboratory. Stunned, she could only stare at the pristine white counters, walls, ceilings, even the huge monitors were white with a black trim. "Eric?"
    "You're in my world now. It's very similar to yours." He hooked his arm through hers. "Don't panic. Everything is fine. I walked you across a veil that exists between the two worlds."
    "Veil?" Easy for him to say. Getting her head wrapped around the concept, not so easy. Still, there was no arguing that she walked on tiles and under some kind of weird fluorescent lights instead of grass and sky. "You're not from my world?"
    "Nope." As she stopped in front of a large series of monitors, Eric added by way of an explanation. "It's Paxton's communications center. He controls the crossings."
    "There's more than one?" She slid him a sideways look. "Does my side know about your side?"
    He pursed his lips and shook his head. "We don't think so, but it's possible. There are several crossings; we keep most of them shut down. We travel to your side when we have specific research to complete. To the best of our knowledge, there aren't any crossings from your side to ours – at least not regulated ones."
    "So, I'm the first to visit?" For some reason that concept tickled her. She'd always wanted to get away from her life. Now she was in the most bizarre, abnormal situation imaginable and didn't know what to think. Contrary was her name. She should be scared, but it was as if the jumps into the mine had prepared her for this eventuality. Well, not quite this reality. Then his words penetrated. They'd been coming to her world whenever they wanted to – yet no one at home knew.
    "Come this way." Eric tugged her arm, leading her toward a closed door. She followed, trying to take in everything. So similar and yet...different.
    Eric looked normal enough. Paxton didn't. He was a little on the odd side. Then again, what if a monk, Goth or a Muslim person came here? Eric's people would consider him representative of her world, too. "This isn't fair. You know how to do all this and we don't."
    "Fair?" Paxton ran up behind them. "Look what happens when you do know a little bit." He brushed past and through the door ahead of them.
    "Really." She exhaled heavily. "Let's not forget who left a stylus in my world in the first place. I wouldn't have found it if you'd stayed where you belong." She wasn't going to take the blame for this – whatever this was. They shouldn't have sneaked over to her side. Having perpetrated one wrong, they shouldn't have compounded it by leaving something dangerous behind.
    "I know."
    "Come, come. Don't dawdle. We don't have time. Everyone is almost here." Paxton hurried ahead of them, tossing an urgent look back their way.
    Storey didn't get it. "How did everyone manage to get here in the time it took me to walk the length of the floor?"
    "Things are a bit different here." He grinned down at her. "You'll see."
    "That's what I'm afraid of," she muttered. "Some info would be helpful. Does everyone look like you and Paxton, for a start? I don't want to walk into that room and find talking alligators or some such thing."
    He laughed. "No, we all look like you. Although, we call ourselves Torans. And Paxton is a little more unique than the rest of us."
    "Is that what you call it?"
    Eric stopped at the doorway, twisting to look down on her. "You're stalling. You can do this. Heck, I even went to school and attended classes with you. How bad can this be?"
    Glaring at him, she stormed through the doorway and came to a sudden halt on the other side. "No one ever smiles in your world, do they?"
    The normal looking room was full. Crowding around a large oval table in the middle of the room were dozens of people and even more stood in the back. Everyone stared, frowning at her. Too bad. Her dreams of a magical world spiriting her away went up in smoke. They all looked depressingly normal.
    "They aren't that bad." Eric stepped forward. Staring ahead, his back straight, he