Page 34 of The Sound of Us

“Most of the buildings on campus have hidden rooms and passages. When I first started at the station, Noah told me all about them. He found out about them from the previous station manager. The engineering science building has a hidden tower that can only be accessed through one of the libraries and the arts building has a theater under the existing theater that nobody uses. I’ve visited them all.”

Before I could respond, he stopped in front of a red steel door. Someone had taped a handwritten sign on the chipped paint thatread,Abandon all hope. WJPK storage, and beneath, in small letters,Vampire lair. He turned on the lights as we walked in, and the door closed with a bang behind us.

“Sorry,” he said when I jumped. “The doorstop has been missing for years.”

I breathed in the scent of stale air and moldy paper as I looked around. Boxes filled with electronics, torn posters, old cassette tapes, CDs and magazines littered the floor. Metal shelving units lined the walls, stacked with more outdated technology. As I moved farther in, I saw tables bowing under the weight of old computers and printer parts. No coffin in sight.

“Isn’t it too damp down here for some of this?” I pulled out a 1980s edition ofRolling Stonemagazine with a picture of Guns N’ Roses on the front cover.

“We ran out of space in the music library.” He searched through one of the boxes. “Noah prioritized keeping the vinyl upstairs. Even though everything is available digitally, he is reluctant to get rid of this stuff.”

“That’s such a shame.” I rifled through the box of magazines and pulled out one with Nirvana on the cover and another featuring Pearl Jam. I held up one in each hand. “Best grunge band of all time?”

“Pearl Jam, of course.”

“Seriously?” I put the magazines back in the box. “I can’t believe someone who shares my love of music wouldn’t appreciate the genius that is Nirvana.”

“I can’t believe the words that are coming out of your mouth,” he retorted. “I think I might just have to leave you down here with nothing but a CD player and Pearl Jam’s greatest hits until you come to your senses.”

“You won’t get a chance to leave me down here because I found the microphones we were sent to get,” I said, spotting the box on the shelf overhead. I put my phone on the shelf and went up on my toes to reach it.

“Don’t move.”

I froze, precariously stretched with my fingertips on the box above me. “What’s wrong? Is it a spider? I’m not afraid of spiders. Mom and I always used to carry them outside if we found them in the house.”

His voice cracked, then roughened. “It’s not a spider.” He came up behind me and reached for the box. His chest pressed against my back, flooding my body with warmth.

“Did you think I couldn’t get it myself?”

“I don’t care if you can get it yourself. You look…” He trailed off, leaning closer, so close I could feel the heat of his body, the brush of his arm on my hair. Electricity crackled in the air between us, making my skin prickle.

“How do I look?” I glanced back over my shoulder. He hadn’t moved, one hand planted on the box above my head, the other only inches away from my hip. His eyes burned into mine and I couldn’t stop the stream of images in my mind: Dante pinning my hands to the shelf. His hand sliding across my stomach and down…

“Like something out of a dream.” He brushed my hair over my shoulder, his lips gently skimming down my neck.

The lights flickered again. I heard a pop and crackle and then the room was plunged into darkness. My heart pounded and for a moment I was back in the crumpled car with my father unconscious beside me.

Shouting. Yelling. Blinding snow. Tires squealing. Bright lights. Big noise. Darkness. Pain.

“Skye?” Dante wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tight against his chest, bringing me back to the present. His voice was quiet, faint, as if he were far away and not right behind me. The thinly veiled panic in his voice overrode the fear that had frozen me in place.

“What happened?” I picked up my phone and turned on the flashlight.

“I think we blew a fuse.”

“I guess we should go and report it.”

“Yeah.” His voice sounded so wrong, I turned in his arms so I could see his face, my hands moving to his chest to steady myself.

“Are you okay?” I looked up but could barely see the glimmer of his eyes.

“Not a fan of the dark.”

I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a hug. “I totally get that. I associate bad things with the darkness, too. Some happened when I was young, and I blocked out the details. And there was the night of the car crash. I was trapped for hours while the emergency team tried to figure out how to free me. It took a year of therapy before I could handle dark enclosed spaces, and I still have nightmares.”

“And yet here you are.” He rested his forehead against mine. “All cool and calm and comforting me when I should be comforting you.” He tightened his arms around me, and we held each other as my phone light flickered in the darkness.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered.

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