Read Online The Other Side by Joshua McCune - Free Book Online

something, anything, what would he want with someone four years his junior with almost as many physical scars as emotional ones? And even if he could somehow look past all that, there’s the small issue of his dead sister.
    But I like the dream—don’t have many good ones anymore. I lower my head onto him ever so gently, slow my breathing until it matches the rise and fall of his chest.
    I must doze, because the next thing I know, his hand’s on my neck. He seems to be asleep. Maybe it was an accident, maybe he didn’t know I was here.
    Maybe he did.
    When I grasp his fingers to disentangle myself, he murmurs, “You’re fine where you are. Quite fine.”
    I sit up and exaggerate a stretch. “Sorry about that. Got tired. Glad you’re okay.”
    A dopey smile crosses his face. “You’re my girlfriend, huh?”
    I look away. “That’s our cover. Your idea?”
    â€œShould have been,” he says, then launches into another ramble about Kissing Dragons , ending with “It didn’t get good again until you were on there. Absolutely stunning.”
    â€œIt was all fake,” I say, standing. “That girl never existed.”
    I’m almost to the door when he says, “You’re wrong. I see her every day.”
    I make the mistake of glancing back. He’s looking at me. Such soulful eyes.
    No! I spin around and break into a run, but I’m too slow.
    â€œSo beautiful she doesn’t even know it. Like my sister.”
    I flee. Through the lobby, outside, down the empty road toward the morning moon that hangs low over the darkness of the river. My lungs knot up, my legs turn to dry ice, and my heartbeat thunders in my ears. But it is not enough to drown the memory of that look and those words.
    I’m almost to the river when my feet slip from under me and I fall hard onto my injured ribs. Mewling, I roll onto my stomach. Behind the blood pounding in my ears and my own pathetic moans, I hear dragons.
    Then the jets come, with their percussive gunfire and shrieking missiles. I push myself to my knees and glance toward the eastern horizon. The clouds are ablaze with abstract blue streaks, a chaotic collage of tracer dots, andfuzzy green balls of light. An aurora borealis of war.
    Not real.
    I dip my hands into the snow and press them to my face. The cold stings, but the cacophony remains. When I split my fingers and peek skyward, the air battle looms, ever bright.
    Two Greens emerge from the clouds in fast pursuit of a jet that’s lost one of its thrusters. They pinch in around him, blasting fire in turns. Not orange like normal dragonfire, but azure. Beautiful.
    A stream of flame envelops the wing. The plane wobbles, twirls into a flat spin. The pilot ejects, his black parachute cast in a vivid green glow. There’s a brief roaring match between the dragons. The smaller one darts under the larger one and inhales the chute.
    I look away. “Not real. Not real. Not real.”
    Can’t be. Sirens would be blaring. People would be scrambling for dragon shelters. Standard operating procedure for—
    For cities painted black, for cities where dragons aren’t confused with UFOs.
    I spring to my feet, calling for Randon and Baby, but neither answers. Still asleep? I look toward their hiding spot in the outlying mountains. Far from the battle. Safe for now.
    But Allie and Colin aren’t. At any moment, a jet could spin out of control and crash into Dillingham, or dragonsmight break loose from the battle and decide to have an impromptu shish kebab of locals and cheechakos.
    I search the surrounding cars, find a beat-up black Jeep the owner didn’t bother to lock. No keys inside, so I sprint to the adjoining house. I start to knock, but then test the knob. It gives. I sneak in. It’s dark inside. I fumble around, locate a pair of switches, turn on the porch and foyer lights. I snatch a set of keys from a bowl on an end