Jessamine's tears continued to gush out, the liquid seeping into Landon's shirt. It was a weird situation—to rest her head on his shoulder, to feel his shoulder, to sense his warmth despite his cold skin, all while knowing he wasn't quite alive, and wasn't quite dead. He was in Limbo in the demonic realm, a ghost that wasn't fully a ghost. She could touch him, and he could touch her.

After what seemed like decades of blood and despair, while possessed by demons, Jessamine reveled in the contact, and especially from him. Someone from her past who knew her almost as well as she knew herself.

They were both humans, both lost in this sepia-toned whirlwind of a world, encircled by red beings who wanted to do them harm but couldn't. Beings who'd wanted to use her for evil but who'd failed.

Never in her wildest dreams and harshest nightmares had Jessamine envisioned something like this happening to her.

Landon held her close to him, his musk meshing into her nostrils and taking her panic down a notch. She'd have never guessed that at the end of her life, in an apocalyptic situation, it'd be Landon who'd be there to comfort her. Landon, the one who'd more than once broke her heart, was the only one to mend her now.

"Jess, you have to get a hold of yourself," he whispered, his breath blowing into her ear. It was icy, sending shivers down her spine. "The energy down here will drag you down and I don't want to know how that'll affect you."

"Affect me?" She sniffled and wiped her nose. Back in the day, she'd have been embarrassed to show herself like this in front of Landon; but who was he to judge her now? He was dead to the world, and so was she. "Like, depression? It's a little too late for that, because I'm already depressed."

"Yeah, and it could lead to..." He let go of her and frowned, and when she continued to stare at him as if he'd lost his mind, he mimicked slicing his throat.

"Oh. Oh." She knew what he was talking about, and fervently shook her head to deny it. "No. Never. I'm too chicken to do that, you know me. And if I did it down here... well, wouldn't I become a demon if I died in this realm? That's why you haven't ended yourself, isn't it?"

He bit his lip and nodded. "I'd rather roam around as a half-dead, half-alive zombie. No way do I want to be one of them."

"Right, and neither do I," said Jessamine, rubbing her watery eyes. The tears had stopped, but the sorrow still packed a heavy punch in her heart. "But I'll be depressed because I'm never going to stop feeling guilty for what I did."

"You said you killed someone?" Landon pulled her into his arms again. They were huddled together in the circle of trees, rocking to and fro. "Who?"

She tried to weasel out of his embrace, her body overheating with shame. "J-Jamie," she stuttered, sensing her tears rushing to her lash-line again. "His name is... was Jamie. A friend, or I'd like to think he was a friend. And he was there to help, to diffuse the situation, to..."

Landon gently seized her chin and turned her to face him. "You were possessed, Jess. Whatever your body did to him, you had no control over it. They made you do it, and wherever his spirit is now, this Jamie dude knows that, I promise."

"I should have done more, though. On the inside." Jessamine remembered how she'd screamed in her mind, how she'd detected their urge to kill the moment they'd turned her sights on Jamie. And Jamie's face—the instant realization, the immediate knowledge that by declaring his presence, by drawing the spotlight away from Avery, he'd sealed his fate. There'd been something bittersweet in his eyes, and Jessamine knew she had no alternative but to watch the life go out of him.

Regardless, she'd banged within the confines of her brain, demanding that the demons move away, leave Jamie alone. "He's innocent!" she'd yelled, screeching at her possessors, who completely ignored her. Usually they at least gave her a reply filled with curses, whenever she dared oppose them or request their attention. But this time they'd shut her out altogether. She was in there, pleading, but to them, she hadn't existed.

She could have done more. There were ways to trigger them. Like the time she'd taken over, when she'd dissuaded them from killing Avery. Why hadn't she been able to do the same with Jamie?

I gave up, that's why.

"I should have worked harder. They were adamant, obsessed with Jamie and the way he smelled, I guess." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "But I should have diverted them. Or bargained with them."

"Bargained?" Landon snorted. "With what leverage, honey? They already had your body, your soul. They owned you. They'd filled up every inch of you, every cavity of your being. Thousands of crazy, bloodthirsty creatures were inside you, and you think they'd have spared one man because you asked them to?"

Jessamine wrinkled her nose. "I should have tried, anyway. Why do I feel so fucking responsible?"

"You aren't," said Landon, flinching. "Because there was nothing you could have done. All the mistakes that led you here; those are what you should feel bad about. But destiny was going to get you here, one way or another, doll. It's fucked up, but it's the truth. And if you want to survive, if you want a shot at a second chance, if I can figure that out, then you need to buck up and accept what you did. What they did."

Jessamine sucked her lips in and took a deep breath. The stale air filtered into her nose and she grimaced as it expanded into her chest, her lungs, infecting her with demonic oxygen. "I disposed of so many others, and yet he's the one that affects me most, and I can't get over it."

She knew why, but she wouldn't say it out loud. Landon tended to be the jealous type, and even if he had heard of Avery and his role in all this, he didn't yet know about his role in Jessamine's life. How much she cared for him. How much his opinion of her mattered. It was because of him that her guilt kept unfolding in her gut, growing heavier by the second.

Because I took his best friend away, and now I'm gone, too. Avery has nothing, no one. He's alone.

Landon shifted in his spot, his grasp on Jessamine loosening. "How many others did they make you kill?"

"Too many." Jessamine still tasted the bitterness of blood on her tongue. Was there a way to drink water down here, to wash that stench from her mouth, to dull the permanent odor in her nostrils? "You know they need blood to stay replenished? I can measure how many I killed based on the gallons and gallons of that shit that's probably still inside me." She grabbed at her gut and gagged. "It's revolting. You sure you still want to help me? I'm a murderer."

"You," he snagged her chin again, more forcefully this time, "aren't a murderer. You're a victim. And yes," he winced, "I was aware of the blood stuff. I told you, I overheard their conversations, their meetings, their preparations. There's a lot I know about them that I wish I didn't."

She supposed that was all Landon could do, down here: eavesdrop on demons as they plotted the world's demise. In their living days, he was a jerk of a jock who played and watched sports, who toured coffee-shops by day and bars by night, and dealt drugs in a side-gig that even Angela hadn't been aware of. But Jessamine had known. She knew everything about Landon—the good, the bad, the ugly. And still she'd lusted for him like no other.

Until Avery came around.

"What else do you know?" She rubbed her arm as a chill coursed through her. "What else is down here?"

"Nothing," he said, sighing as he stretched his arms, letting go of her. "Impossible-to-reach trees, a few shaded spots like this, and expanses of dried, desert-like dirt. Sometimes more trees in the background, but it's always sepia and it's always dirt. And that stench," he peeked at her nose as it scrunched, "is everywhere. No escaping it."

"So there are different areas?" She squinted at him. "Wait; is this all one realm, or are there several realms? The doors," she swallowed, sitting up straight, "the demon doors in every basement. Do they all lead here, or to different parts of the realm, or different realms altogether?"

Landon's mouth opened, closed, opened. "Um, well, it's all one place, as far as I'm aware." He cocked his head and studied her. "There's only one demonic realm, but it's accessible from different doors."

Jessamine's eyes widened. "Interesting. So I would have bumped into you eventually, regardless?" Landon had died in California, which seemed to confirm what he stated—only one dimension, with doors leading to different parts of it.

Landon straightened up. "Where did you come from, Jess? Which door?"

"I don't know their names if they have any, but I remember entering through a basement in Nevada."

Landon's eyebrows raised and lowered, then raised again, as high as possible. "I think I have an idea, then." He stood up and reached his hand out to assist Jessamine. "There's something we can try, a potential step closer to getting you out of here."

Jessamine narrowed her gaze on his hand, watching as his fingers wiggled, beckoning her to him. "How?"

"We're nearest the Nevada door right now, and it won't open for either of us, ever. But the California door..." He appeared sick of waiting and crouched to grip her wrist and tug her up. "That's where I died, and where you initially opened the door, right?"

She jerked out of his clutch as soon as she was balanced on her feet. "Seriously, how the fuck did you know?"

He huffed. "Seriously, Jess, stop questioning me. I told you, I hear stuff. I've been down here for years, and I know how this realm works. Do you know how many times I've tried to summon doors to me, or to try to make them appear by magic? They don't. They won't. I don't have enough humanity left in me since I'm so close to dead. But you," he took a step towards her, "you're fully alive. The doors can detect you, your presence. I have no idea if they'll let you through, but they'll recognize you. And the California one... it has a special tether to you."

She sneered at him, at his approaching body. "You talk about the doors as if they're alive," she said, a foul flavor developing in her mouth. She didn't know if it was the putrid air, or a pinch of distrust towards Landon and his grand knowledge of so many ominous, paranormal occurrences.

"They are, in a sense," he said, shrugging a hand through his curls. "They're enchanted, connected to the demons, and therefore connected to you. And I have a hunch the vibe will be different, stronger between you and the California door, because it was the first one you opened. The most significant one to you."

She shuddered, picturing said door—the time she'd first opened it and somehow slammed it shut too soon in the process. Or the time she'd dashed to it, having detected demonic energy animating, and finding Avery sprawled out in front of it. Both times had been powerful, and both times the door had spoken to her.

So it was never the demons talking, like I thought. It was the door.

"So you think we can locate this door and it'll open for me?" She folded her arms, fixing her gaze on one of the trees, on its faded, shedding bark.

"I can't say if it'll open," Landon bunched his lips, "but you may be able to communicate through it."

"Communicate with who?" She squeezed her arms tighter against herself. "That place exploded, and I'm betting several of the Guides were incinerated in the fire. Ada's alive, and I'm pretty sure I got a whiff of Faz before I was pushed in... but there won't be anyone in California to answer me."

Landon extended his hand, insistent. "We won't know unless we try."

She doubted Avery would be back in California yet. And if he was, why on earth would he be at the portal where he'd learned he'd lose everything? He'd have fled, left the forest, warned Louise of what happened. He'd be planning out Jamie's funeral, working out how to tell the world what he'd been through and why he had two dead people in his wake. A third, if he counted Jessamine; it was probable that he'd opt to say she was dead instead of trying to explain where she really was.

But if she could reach one of the Guides, describe her situation, beg them to help her find a way out... then she could escape and move across the world, away from Avery and the pain she'd inflicted on him.

"Okay," she said, hesitantly taking Landon's hand. His coldness seeped into her, awakening her.

"It's a long walk." He pointed between the trees, out into the vast space of dried dirt. "But time passes differently in this realm. You won't even feel the hours passing by."

Hours?

She perked up. Hours meant maybe there'd be time for Ada and Faz to return to their destroyed portal. And maybe they'd hear her if she tried to talk to them.

Maybe they'd help.

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