Free Riley Bloom Dreamland by Alyson Noël Page B

while cursing myself for sending Buttercup off on his own, for telling Mort I could handle it fine. Picking up the pace when the panic started to mount, and regretting the decision the moment I crashed straight into a wall. Crashed so hard I was sure I’d just made my semi-stubby nose even stubbier.
    I stood there, palms pressed to my face, my entire body shaking as I choked back the tears. Stealing a moment to give myself a very stern talking-to, reminding myself that fear was for sissies, panic led to no good, and crying was an indulgence I could not afford.
    Repeating it again and again until it started to feel real—until I started to believe.
    And that’s when I saw it.
    The tiniest, briefest flicker of light.
    It was quick.
    Fleeting.
    Here and gone in an instant.
    Still, it was enough to convince me to wait patiently, silently—hoping with all of my might that I’d see it again.
    The second time was as brief as the first, but it was enough to get me moving—enough to convince me to take one more baby step toward the source. Stopping each time it went dark, then taking another step forward when that quick beam of light pierced through, then stopping the second it went black once again.
    It felt like forever before I reached it.
    Though by that point I was just glad to have made it, even though I had no idea where I might be.
    I stood outside the building, ran my hand along the coarse, rough wall, pretty sure it wasn’t one of the ones I’d already visited—overcome with the sinking, dreaded feeling that it just might be the building I’d glimpsed earlier.
    The one that looked old.
    Run-down.
    Forgotten, abandoned, and left to rot in a way that should’ve been condemned.
    And when the light flashed again, I saw where it came from. Saw the way it slipped through the cracks of an old, boarded-up space that probably once held a door.
    I edged toward it, smooshed my cheeks against the splintery slats, and peered in.
    Startled to find a kid I guessed to be about my age—a boy with hair so blond it was practically white, and skin so pale it blended into the hair. And when he turned, when he looked in my direction and his gaze settled on mine, I saw that his eyes were so deep and blue they reminded me of California swimming pools.
    With the blond hair, blue eyes, and pasty pale skin, he wasn’t all that different from me—and yet, his features seemed so exagger-ated, so startling and unexpected, I couldn’t decide if he looked like an angel …
    Or more like its opposite.
    I froze, unsure what to do. But before I could do much of anything, he’d already jumped from his chair, already moved to the place where I stood.
    A couple of distressed pieces of wood the only things standing between us, as he placed his hands on his hips and said,
    “You’re not supposed to be here.” His voice was much higher than I would’ve expected, but deadly serious nonetheless.
    I nodded. There was no use denying what we both knew was true.
    “No one’s supposed to be here after closing.”
    I shrugged, folded my arms across my chest, and peered past his shoulder. Trying to think of something to say that might get him to lighten up, let me hang around for a bit, at least until the darkness went away.
    But the second I met his eyes, I knew those words would never come. There was something very odd about him, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
    “Usually the dark does the trick. It’s enough to keep all the stragglers away. That’s the whole point, you know. That’s why it happens. And yet, here you are.” I bit down on my lip, did my best to hold on to his gaze.
    “I guess you don’t scare easily, then?” I squared my shoulders, recognizing a challenge when I heard one. Clearly he had no idea just who he was dealing with, and maybe it was time that I told him—heck, maybe I should even show him.
    Big bad ghosts were my specialty. I’d already dealt with quite a few. From what I knew, the really bad ones were