I can’t comprehend what just happened, but standing in the emergency doorway, breathing in the frigid winter air, my thoughts churn. I remember all the times I’ve seen Kye since I moved to Jackson, the way I feel when I’m near him, the way my ring flashed when our fingers touched.
Kye’s like a brick wall when it comes to intuition, and I’ve never been able to see his aura very clearly. It takes deductive reasoning to cause a sudden realization to crash down on me. There’s only one possible answer to all the questions that have been forming in my head since the first time I saw him.
Kye’s Gifted.
NINE
Strangers, Rangers, and Soup
The lobby at the Inn is packed. I search for Rose and Jen, hoping they’ve already checked in so I’ll have a place to hide out while I try to sort through everything in my head. Unfortunately, an organization project of that magnitude might take me all weekend, or the rest of the year. I spent the rest of the bus ride by myself, feeling empty and alone, my brain a blended up jumble of questions. What just happened? Where did Kye go? And why was I the only person around who was so thoroughly and utterly confused?
It’s not like Mr. Akers explained after the bus started moving again. He just returned to his seat and left me alone in mine.
A wave of dizziness hits me on my way to the registration desk. Not a vision, but a premonition—a hollow ache in my gut—that tells me what’s happened tonight is only a taste of what’s coming. Great. Every seventeen-year-old girl wants to know in advance that her already unusual life is about to become downright weird.
“Are you lost?”
My eyes focus on a brown-haired Ranger in a khaki uniform. He doesn’t look much older than me, but he’s a lot taller. His gaze seems to take in the whole room at once.
“My friends are here somewhere—I just have to find them.”
“I heard they had to call a second bus. This crowd is unbelievable— especially pre-season.” The Ranger’s eyes twinkle as he leans against a pillar, arms folded against his chest. “I’m Gabe.”
“Abby.” I offer. “You haven’t by chance seen a couple of girls who—”
“Abby! Over here.” Across the room, Rose stands on a chair waving her arms. “Finally!”
“Looks like they found you.”
“Guess so.”
Gabe turns his head, and I notice an odd swirling flame tattoo behind his left ear. I don’t want to think it’s sexy, but it kind of is. The radio on his belt crackles and a disembodied voice rattles off numbers, using what I can only assume is a sort of Ranger code. “That’s my cue. Glad you found your friends.” A secretive smile plays at Gabe’s lips as he turns to walk away. “Have a good visit in the Park.”
Trying to forget that tattoo, I wind through the crowd. Rose jumps off the chair and wraps her arms around me in greeting. “You made it!”
“You doubted?”
“Nah, we knew you wouldn’t bail on us.” Jen grabs our wrists and drags us to the elevator. Her hands are overly warm, so I peek into her energy field to make sure she’s not feverish.
Rose hands me a plastic key card. “Have you eaten?”
“No.” I check my watch and realize it’s after seven. “Have you?”
Jen grimaces. “Only if you count gummy bears and Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups as dinner.”
“What’s wrong with that? Sounds pretty good to me.”
“It’s fattening, for one thing.” Jen presses the elevator button, avoiding Rose’s glare. “And you’ll burn through the sugar high and be starving again in an hour.”
The elevator dings and we enter, Rose still scowling at Jen. “I can eat candy for dinner if I want. It’s my birthday.”
We settle into easy banter. Jen and I take turns teasing Rose about being an old lady who throws classy birthday shindigs for the entire state of Wyoming. This results in a small, hair-damaging pillow fight in our room.
In the end, Jen lobs a pillow at Rose. “You know we’re all here just to get away from the parentals, right?”
Rose tosses the pillow at me, suddenly calm but grinning. “Sugar’s all gone. I’m starving. Time for real food.”
They’ve distracted me for a while, but as soon as the stuffing stops flying, that heart-hammering anxiety is back times ten. I’m tempted to hide out in the room and worry about Kye, but instead follow the others down the hall. A tall man in an overcoat brushes by in a hurry, and I catch a view of a smoky, dark gray aura. I’ve never seen one like it—and don’t mean to look—but the color is so alarming, I can’t miss it. Evil. Bad. Scary.
My skin prickles.
The man and I both pause, turn, and our eyes meet. His are a strange violet color, and the pale brown skin surrounding them creases like a fan into his hairline. Dark hair—almost black—swings past his pointed chin as he angles his head to stare. “Raina.” His voice winds around me, wraps me up in smoke, freezing the blood in my veins until I shiver. So, so cold. “You’re back.”
I feel like all the air has been sucked out of me. Can’t. Breathe. Then the elevator dings, reminding me that I’m not alone. “Abby?” Jen asks. “Are you coming?”
“Yes.” The word comes out as a whisper, as if my voice has been trapped in ice and needs to warm up before it can be used again. “Yes.” I clear my throat. “Sorry.”
“What’s going on?” Rose grasps my elbow. “You okay? You’re kinda pale.”
I look up, expecting the strange man to still be standing in the hall, but in the seconds since I looked away, he’s disappeared. “Who was that?”
A wrinkle forms between her brows. “Who was who? That’s Jen, I’m Rose, you’re Abby.”
“But I ... there was a guy.” Could he have been a vision? Am I the only person who saw him?
Rose urges me forward with a hand on my back. “You need food, stat. I think you’re delirious with hunger.”
“Ahem.” Jen stands between the elevator doors, tapping her nails on the metal frame. “Are we eating or not?”
I let Rose pull me inside and watch her punch the button for the lobby. It cannot be a coincidence that so many strange things have happened in a few short hours, but my brain refuses to make a connection. Inside my sweater pocket, my hand finds my amethyst crystal and clasps it tight, my fingers rubbing the smooth surface, begging for some sort of clarity. Healing comes, but not from the crystal. I let it go and remove my hand from my pocket. My palm is moist with sweat and the platinum band of my ring feels warm.
The diamonds glow with soft blue light—the heat source—like some kind of dormant power has broken through or been reactivated. Before the other girls notice what’s happening, I shove my hand back in my pocket. The heat from my ring spreads into my blood, flows up my arm and shoulder, down into my toes, and across my chest, searching for my chilled heart. It calms me, fills me up until the cold left behind by the stranger with the gray aura is a distant memory. I’m fine. Everything is going to be okay. I’ll figure out what’s happening. Eventually.
Should I warn someone about the stranger? No one else saw him. Would anyone believe me? I decide to wait. If I happen to see Mr. Akers, maybe I’ll mention it to him. If it feels right.
The restaurant has a lodge-type atmosphere with hardwood floors and rough log walls, and is packed to overflowing with kids from our school. This café is the only one open, so everyone is sharing tables. We crowd around a corner table, which we share with three guys who came in behind us.
Rose and Jen manage to arrange things so they’re squeezed between the guys, flirting and giggling before I’ve even figured out where to sit. The booth’s c-shaped bench is already crowded. “Uh.”
Rose sees me hesitate and comes to my rescue. “Everyone scoot in so Abby can fit.”
The guys compress their shoulders and try to squish together, like that will create more room. The five of them look like sardines already. Thanks, but no thanks. “Maybe I’ll just—you’re already packed in there pretty tightly. Looks claustr
ophobic.”
Jen snaps glittering fingers at the guy on the end. She and Rose must have done their nails while they waited for me. “Brian, don’t just sit there. Go get Abby a chair.”
“Why me?” he whines.
Rose glowers at him. “Because you’re on the end. Man up.”
As Brian stalks away, Rose pats the spot he just vacated. “Saved you a seat.”
Before I can sit, Eric slides into the empty spot, grinning. “Hey. So, since you’re here, I’m going to assume you’ll be accompanying me to the party. And tomorrow, a bunch of us—”
“We have plans tomorrow.” Rose attempts to shove him off the bench.
“I wasn’t asking you, Rose.” Eric ignores her attempts to dislodge him and unrolls the flatware from one of the linen napkins, fiddling with the dull butter knife like he’s nervous. “I’m thinking we could—”
Brian clunks a chair down so hard it clatters, teetering precariously before settling on all four legs. He glares at Eric. “You’re in my seat.”
Eric’s lips pucker like he’s just eaten a lemon. “You going to drag me out of it?”
“If I have to.”
Rose’s eyes go wide with merriment, though I can’t figure out what she finds amusing.
Reluctantly, Eric stands. He glares at Brian for several long seconds before sidestepping with a sweep of his hands. Brian blocks the spot but doesn’t sit. Eric looks at me, his eyes imploring. “Shall we?”
He wants me to go with him now?
Jen saves me the trouble of responding. “Abby needs to eat, Eric. None of us wants a repeat of yesterday’s performance.”
Eric narrows his eyes, calculating, and points to the chair Brian has just delivered. “Sit. Eat. I want you to be able to dance with me later.” He gives Brian a withering look. “If you’re smart, you’ll keep your hands to yourself.”
“You wish.” Very deliberately, Brian drapes one arm across Rose’s shoulders then grabs the leg of my chair, pulling me right up to his side. “Now, this is cozy.”
I pick up the edges of my chair and scoot back. Eric slams a hand on the table between me and Brian.
“Boys.” Rose’s voice is stern, like a parent, and heads turn our way.
Eric’s chest heaves with anger, his breath puffing out so hard I swear it looks like he’s blowing smoke, but he doesn’t look at Brian again. “Have a good dinner,” he grumbles. “I’ll see you at the party.”
He stalks off as I sink behind a menu, wishing I could curl up and die of humiliation. Did I or did I not tell him I don’t like him? And I don’t even know Brian.
A few minutes later, a forty-something waitress shows up to take our order. She pulls a pencil out of her wispy brown bun and taps the table with it as she rattles off the specials. “What can I get for you?” she asks, apparently deciding to start with me. I haven’t looked at the menu so much as hide behind it.
“Uh,” I say. “I haven’t ... maybe, um ...”
“Why don’t you start with someone else? Give her a minute.” A familiar voice, sweet as honey to my ears and as welcome as it is unexpected, draws my gaze behind the waitress. The woman smiles at Kye before turning her attention to Brian.
“Mind if I join your group?”
There’s not much room, but I scoot over and Kye slides a chair next to me. Under the table, his fingers find mine. I’m flustered and angry and so very confused, but I allow Kye to enfold my hand in his, grateful to feel my imbalance settling. We so have to talk.
“Ahem.” The waitress taps her menu, impatient.
Kye glances up. “Thanks for making room for me, guys.” He concentrates on the menu. “What’s good here?”
While Kye orders, Rose catches my eye and hisses, “Seriously?”
“When did this happen?” Jen sets a misshapen fork on the table, gesturing to the waitress that she’ll need a new one.
I bite my lip, shaking my head. “Later.” Except I plan to omit around ninety percent of the details. How could I even try to explain what I don’t understand myself?
To my relief, now that Eric’s gone, Brian directs all his attention to Rose. I still don’t know the names of the other boys, and except for the occasional comment and a few speculative glances, they all but ignore me now that Kye’s here. He holds the menu in front of my face, indicating that it’s my turn to order. “If you don’t hurry and pick something, I’m ordering for you.”
Rose’s gaze turns into a glare, though I’m not sure if it’s intended for me or Kye. I hope I haven’t unknowingly stepped into her territory. That would be bad. So bad. With a sigh, I order a cup of chicken noodle soup, wondering how on earth I’ll unmake my newest mess.
TEN
Confessions and Special Gifts
The restaurant fills with people, and the low din of voices turns into wild chatter until Rose talks the waitress into turning on some music. Then the volume becomes obnoxious, leaving my head throbbing. After we’ve paid our bills, Kye takes my hand and leads me out. The party is just getting started.
The lobby isn’t any quieter. Flames crackle merrily in the enormous rock fireplace dominating the middle of the room, surrounded by a crowd of people lounging on the floor and in log chairs. Crystal is one of those people, and judging from her frosty glare, she’s still angry about something. My boots squeak on the hardwood as I follow Kye outside, away from everyone. A gust of frigid winter air hits me in the face and sends a shiver all the way down to my toes.
“Sorry, I know it’s cold,” Kye says. “I thought we’d get away from the noise for a minute. We need to talk.”
I breathe in the crisp, pine-scented air. “Rose loves the crowd.”
“Yeah. Leave it to Rose.” He blows into his hands for warmth. “I bet the Inn’s owners are happy. It’s usually closed for another month.”
“I heard.” I wrap my arms around myself, shivering.
Kye’s teeth chatter. “Yeah, that girl has some influence over the people running this place.”
“She must,” I say, thinking about the waitress in the restaurant, the cooks, check-in clerks, and housekeeping. Then I remember seeing the gift shop doors open. “I wonder how she did it.”
“Rose has a ... special talent when it comes to talking to people. Haven’t you noticed?”
I bite back a smile. “How could I not? She and Jen practically railroaded me into coming, and I don’t even know how. I’m usually not so easily swayed.”
“Now, that I can believe.” Kye pulls me closer, running his palms up my sleeves, inching me toward him until his arms are wound around me and we’re shivering together, the white puffs of our breath mingling in a common cloud. “Is this ... are you okay with me holding you like this?”
My only response is a nod, because I am okay. I’m more than okay. I’m home. But I still need my questions answered. “Before we turn into Popsicles, are you going to explain to me about the bus thing?”
“Yes, right. I’m sorry about that. It was unexpected or I would’ve warned you.”
“What did happen, exactly?”
He takes a long, deep breath and puffs it out. He doesn’t know I know. “What would you say if I told you I have a pet moose?”
I hear my own laugh tinkle out, muffled in the blanket of snow surrounding us. “I’d ask his name and wonder what he was doing so far from home.”
Kye swallows again, his smile uncertain. He’s nervous. “His name’s Finn, and he was looking for me.”
Recognizing the hesitation in his voice, I send him an encouraging look. If he was raised hearing the same warnings as me all his life, this might be the hardest confession he’ll ever make. Go on. Tell me more. Tell me all. “How did you come to have a pet moose?”
“Funny thing is, he found me. I’d been living here for about two months and I’d never been so lost in my life. Literally. Val’s house is out in the sticks, and I went for a walk and couldn’t find my way back. Then I looked up and there he was, all alone and scared. He let me c
limb on his back, even though he was just a tiny little thing, and brought me home. Val let me keep him.”
“Just like that? How did you know he wouldn’t, you know, gouge you with his rack or something?”
Kye grins. “He didn’t have a rack then. He was just a baby. But I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, because he ... told me.”
I turn my head to better see his face. “What do you mean, he told you? Like, with his eyes? Because you could see he was kind?”
“No, he—I—” Kye clears his throat, staring at the trees, his chin resting on my shoulder. “We communicate. Always have. Different from talking, but kind of the same. I understand a lot of things other people don’t. The rustling of the leaves in the trees, the squeaks and sounds of animals, the language of basic elementals ...”
Gifted. The word rolls around in my head until I feel it forming in my mouth, and still I have to test it before I can actually say it. The taste is strange, sweet. Forbidden. “Gifted.”
“Yes. Like you.” He draws away, staring into my eyes until I can see his questions mirrored there. Knowing what’s coming fills me with that frightening anxiety Gram instilled in me. The idea that if I tell, bad, bad things will happen to me and everyone I love. I am momentarily speechless. “Not your average teenagers, I guess.”
He smells like pine and musk and something else—something sweet, like a mixture of tree sap and flowers—as I take his face in my hands. “Average equals boring.”
My feet leave the ground when he lifts me up and twirls me around, eyes closed. “You’re right. Nothing boring about us.” We’re both grinning when he puts me down.
“How did you know? About me?” I ask.
“I don’t know how. I just—I saw you and something you did triggered a picture, maybe a memory—I don’t know. I just knew. That’s all.”
Could he have Sight too? No. Having one Gift is rare. Having two? I’m an anomaly. An original. Even Gram didn’t know what to make of my Sight.
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