Shine: The Knowing Ones

by Amy Freeman

  In a far corner, one pair of eyes watched far more intently than any other.

  The others were captivated. He was nothing short of arrested.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  H e had come in with his friends Chris and Adam, from the swim team, who were on the hunt for women. Trin’s new despondent attitude had prompted the forced evening out, but it was a bonus for them. Trin Kosolov—total chick magnet.

  They found a table upstairs. Like a pack of coyotes, they scoped the establishment.

  “Hmmm. A lot of fine women here tonight,” Adam said.

  A thin smile lit Trin’s face.

  Chris threw an arm around his shoulder. “Come on, bro. Whatever’s buggin’ you, this is the place to get your mind off it. I mean, check your options. You know you can have your pick, dog.”

  He gestured toward the sea of scantily clad, tipsy girls. Trin followed, scrutinizing, searching, remaining silent.

  Chris slapped Trin on the back, then moved to the table with Adam and gave the server his drink order. Trin stood, studying the crowd, dissecting both levels, checking every face, aura, and countenance. Nothing.

  “Excuse me?”

  Trin turned, caught off guard. A pretty, young waitress with a long blonde ponytail put a pen to her tablet, face flushed, eyes sparkling with adoration. “Can I get you anything?”

  Adam and Chris watched, hopeful.

  Unintentionally dazzling her, Trin’s light eyes glinted beneath black lashes. “I’m good, thanks.”

  She didn’t move. He read her aura with lightning precision and took her pen. “What’s your name?”

  “Cory.”

  “Cory,” he repeated while signing his name to her tablet. He handed it back to her with a humble smile.

  She practically glowed. “Thank you,” she said. “So great to meet you.”

  Trin lowered his head. “Thank you. Nice to meet you, too.”

  She floated away to place their order as Trin turned to sit down. Chris and Adam sat in their chairs, staring.

  “What?” he said, taking his seat.

  Adam shook his head. “Never fails.”

  “Nope,” Chris added. “He’s a magic man.”

  Trin shook his head, flashing a smile.

  After downing a few drinks, his friends spotted a table of prey. They urged him to come along but he opted to stay behind and let them have their fun.

  Mentally exhausted, he sat, his muscular frame hunched over, pushing his fingers through his sun-streaked hair. His head stayed down, throwing up the strongest shield he could muster, a million eyes on him. Women searched for a way in. At the moment, he just wanted out.

  The current song came to an end and a new one began.

  A silent knowing crept over him, pulling at his psyche; faint, but unlike anything he had ever experienced. Lifting his head from his hands he scanned the crowd. Moving toward the dance floor, a light emanated apart from all the others, increasing as it neared the dance floor.

  Trin shot up from his chair, nearly sending it flying as he moved to the railing to get a better look. Gold energy. Sectioning the crowd, he found its source, his heart thundering in his chest as a devastating brunette emerged. A muted Russian curse escaped his lips. Captivated, his crystal eyes glazed, fighting raw, carnal heat, and he gripped the railing a bit harder than necessary.

  His lips parted, allowing much needed air to slip through. Possessive rage, a foreign emotion, challenged his well-maintained perspective as he watched men approach her. But she turned them away, shutting them down cold.

  The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

  Stepping away from the railing, he pulled himself together, clearing his mind. Overdue relief washed over him as he considered his next move.

  He had found her first. She was safe, for now. He began strategizing. She wanted to be left alone. Approaching her would be tough. He stood in conflict with the moment, flipping through his options.

  Then he knew. She would have to come to him.

  He went back to his table and sat down. Leaning forward on his elbows, he focused.

  Golden blue electricity ignited in his eyes, energy generating at his core, spreading outward, building in strength. The environment began to change, molecules quivering, vibrating, as he constructed an invisible yet palpable message that expanded past him, stretching out into the crowd. The powerful crawl seeped through arms, around legs, passing by laughter, conversation, and locked lips, searching for its target. Trin’s ice blue eyes gleamed in the hooded darkness of the club, and he waited patiently for her to receive his message.

  The song came to an end. Sam pushed her hands through her thick hair, hoping the next song would be just as good. But the sound of Vig’s guitar ripped through the club instead, the audience spiking to a deafening volume, her cue to exit. Staying put would get her crushed.

  She began an urgent search for Anna, who had gone to talk to Vig near the end of the song. She found her waving from their table and started toward her. Each face she passed seemed to be a guy sizing her up or just flat out pawing at her.

  “Hey baby, where you goin’?”

  “Want a drink?”

  “No thanks. I’m looking for my friend.”

  “I’ll be your friend.” This one grinned like a wolf about to pounce.

  Totally put off, she began pushing past him, then stopped, glancing back in recognition.

  His drunken leering broadened as he mistook her hesitation for an opening. She turned with a shudder. The next face came into view. She knew this one as well, the next, and the next, all familiar. Then it hit her.

  The dream.

  Sam’s heart rate increased. She scanned the big club, matching up details with what she had seen the night before. This was it. This was the room. Her breathing quickened, fists clenching and unclenching as she wondered what she should do. Her mind raced as she recounted everything, trying to remember the order of events. Her profound curiosity won out. She had to know what was on the other side of the crowd.

  She filtered forward, turning this way and that, one step at a time as she disentangled herself from the many bodies in her way, then froze in place.

  Moving through the tightly packed crowd, a powerful golden blue essence spilled through the bodies like luminescent honey, passing each one, flowing forward, coming for her.

  She caught her breath, casting her eyes about the oblivious crowd. Vig’s ragged voice seduced the audience, guitars rocked, thunderous beat shaking the walls. Everyone was taken by the show, dancing, screaming, just like the dream. But to her, silence, everything in slow motion, and within moments, she was taken.

  Swallowed by an ocean of euphoria, she bent to its will, succumbing, moving forward to the staircase leading to the upper level balcony. She took the stairs one by one, reaching the top driven by this living light.

  The crowd began to part, her heart racing. If she hadn’t been so tranquilized, she might have passed out in anticipation of what was waiting for her on the other side. Frenzied energy closed in as the last of the crowd blocking her path gave way, revealing the last thing she ever expected.

  Shadowed in the corner, he sat, leaning forward on his elbows, but upon seeing her he leaned back in his chair, exposing a massive upper body and a face she couldn’t turn from.

  His masculine jaw and full lips were only outdone by stunning provocative eyes; the most hypnotic blue she had ever seen, scintillating in stark contrast against tanned skin and thick black lashes. Naturally streaked by a lifetime in the sun, his light brown hair hung shaggy around his face. Broad, muscled shoulders extended into sculpted arms and powerful hands.

  Sam drew in air, finding it hard to breathe.

  While concealing her reaction, his teammates returned with a gaggle of sorority girls in the early stages of inebriation. A break in the music allowed for Chris’s brilliant introduction.

  “Trin, dude, meet the ladies!”

  Sam’s eyes gleamed. Trin.

  H
e lifted a hand in their direction, his penetrating stare never wavering from hers.

  “I’m good.”

  His velvet voice matched his appearance.

  She reeled as a flicker of light danced off his fingertips in the direction of his friends. He was holding them at bay; aware of the energy, manipulating it.

  They looked from Sam to Trin and smiled, knowing glances exchanged. Chris chuckled.

  “Okay, dude. We’ll leave you to it.” The boys walked away, arms slung around their newly acquired trophies.

  Trin stood. His faded blue jeans accentuated the rest of his tall, lean body. Dizzyingly beautiful.

  Watching her for a moment, an apprehensive smile crossed his face.

  “Do you want to sit down?”

  “Um, yeah,” she replied.

  She moved to the chair he held out, and sat down.

  She noticed his golden blue aura no longer encapsulated her. It did, however, remain strong and radiant around him. She had never seen energy like this; his whole countenance utterly enigmatic.

  He sat down, unearthly blue eyes studying her. But far more noticeable was an overwhelming element of relief coming from him, as if the answer to a long sought question had finally been revealed.

  All of her questions remained completely unaddressed.

  “I’m Trin.”

  “Yeah...” she said, still hearing the name in her head. “I mean, I heard your friend call out to you before.”

  Trin laughed a little, tilting his head, a trace of amusement in his eyes.

  She watched him as he continued to scrutinize her, and still, this feeling of relief radiating off him; a strange emotion to accompany a first meeting.

  The band started another song and the volume went back up. Damn it Vig! She wouldn’t be able to hear a word he said. She attempted to read him, baffled by his aura. She could glean nothing from it; unreadable, impenetrable.

  He broke her train of thought, calling out through the music. “Are you going to tell me your name?”

  “Uh, Sam,” she shouted back.

  He laughed, glancing down toward the stage, noting her inability to hear him. Her eyes rolled in agreement. This was the only time in her life she had wanted to kill Vig.

  Trin smiled and held up a hand, scanning the club. Sam watched him, taking in his exotic eyes, textured hair, full mouth, eyes drifting to his broad chest, a black V-neck t-shirt hinting at concealed, sculpted magnificence.

  He finally found what he was looking for. Raising a hand, he called out to one of the cocktail waitresses.

  “What can I get you?” she shouted. Sam didn’t need a sixth sense to feel the girl’s sensual energy blasting Trin. If he was aware of it, he was politely ignoring it.

  “Could I borrow a pen?” he replied, writing in the air, in case she hadn’t heard.

  “Sure.” She dug through her apron pulling out a pen. “Can I get you anything else?”

  Trin looked at Sam. She smiled and shook her head. “No, thank you,” he shouted.

  The waitress handed him the pen and turned away, her aura blazing with envy.

  Trin held up the pen, displaying his brilliant solution and grabbed a cocktail napkin.

  Sam laughed.

  She watched as his strong hand penned out the first of their written conversation. He wore an expensive diving watch. Her pulse raced into high gear as she noticed the time.

  Three minutes past nine.

  She gazed, stunned, and then looked back at him as he wrote. Who was he?

  He slid the napkin toward her.

  She pulled it in, reading the words.

  It’s nice to meet you, Sam.

  She took in his handwriting; another extension of him, one more thing pulling at her. She took the pen, wrote her response, and slid it back.

  Likewise, I’m sure.

  He smiled and took the pen for a quick reply.

  Beautiful and clever.

  Sam flushed.

  He took the napkin back and began writing again.

  So are you a student?

  Sam took the pen and responded. She finished her reply and pushed it toward him.

  Yes, I’m a dance major. How about you?

  He paused—head cocked, expectant, then laughed a little and began writing his response, amusement once again illuminating his eyes. He pushed the napkin back.

  Yes.

  She read his curt response and glanced up, only to be stunned by a beautiful grin. She lowered her head, breathless, and began writing again. She passed the napkin back.

  Not much for conversation?

  He took the napkin, responded, and sent it back.

  I am not my favorite subject.

  She quickly scribbled her response.

  So, what is...?

  He read her reply and lifted his eyes. His gaze burned into her, a sensual, crushing heat passing through her body.

  The music stopped and Vig could be heard announcing a break in the set. Right at that moment Trin’s intent gaze shifted from Sam to just behind her.

  He leaned in. “I think you’re in trouble.”

  Sam blinked and turned. Furious energy broke through the crowd of people as Anna charged their table.

  “Anna!” Sam had been so consumed by the moment she could hardly remember which planet she was on, let alone where she was or who she had come in with. She jumped up from her chair to apologize when Anna caught sight of Trin. Her anger dissolved as an air of comprehension took its place. “Oh my—Sam...where did—”

  “Shh!” Sam whispered, pushing Anna into the nearest alcove. “Be quiet! He’ll hear you!”

  Anna looked at Sam and glanced around the thundering club. “He’ll hear me?”

  Sam shoved Anna further into the alcove, now staggering backward in heels, her long blonde hair bouncing against her bare shoulders as she tried not to sprain an ankle.

  “Okay. Just shh!” Sam glanced back at Trin. “He is not your average guy.”

  “Yeah, no kidding,” Anna replied.

  She waited for a response and then stared at Sam in disdain. “You do know who you’re sitting with, Sam?”

  Sam squinted. “What do you mean?”

  Anna’s head dropped back in utter disbelief at her friend’s ability to tune out the rest of humanity. She extended a hand in Trin’s direction. “Sam, that’s Trin Kosolov, the Olympic gold medalist, like the greatest swimmer ever.”

  Realization dawned on Sam’s face. She turned, looking in his direction, only to find him looking back at her. Her gaze dropped to the floor in shock.

  “Sam, how can you not know that?” Anna said. “We’re not just talking epic Olympic status; he’s the sex God of the swimming world.”

  Sam shook her head. “Anna, listen,” she said. “Do you remember the talk we had last night? How I said things were different here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, last night I had this crazy dream,” Sam said. “I was in this club and there was this incredible light.” Sam looked back at Trin. “He’s the light.”

  Anna stared. “I’m sorry?”

  Sam turned back to Anna, no reply.

  “Your mystery light is Trin Kosolov, the Olympic legend.”

  Sam shrugged, speechless.

  Anna shook her head. “Oh, this just gets better every day.”

  Sam had to agree. It was crazy. She recognized him now that Anna had pointed out who he was. But that was not at all what captivated her. His swimming status meant nothing in comparison to what she had witnessed.

  “His energy is crazy,” Sam said, “and not because he’s an Olympian. I’ve never seen anything like this.” Sam grabbed Anna’s arms. “Anna, he has gifts like mine, only way more advanced. He used his mind to pull me over to him,” she said. “I could see his energy searching for me.”

  Anna stared, dumbfounded. “Trin Kosolov?”

  Sam nodded.

  “What are you going to do?” Anna asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sa
m replied. “But he has my answers.”

  “Sure he does,” Anna huffed, “Trin Kosolov. Why not?”

  Sam grabbed Anna’s hand. “Here, come meet him.”

  She pulled Anna over to the table. There he sat, in all his glory. He stood as they approached. Sam turned toward her friend. “Trin, this is Anna. Anna, Trin.”

  “Nice to meet you, Anna,” he said.

  “Hey,” she replied. She shook her head, gesturing toward him with both hands. “Trin Kosolov. You’re amazing.”

  A humble smile crossed his face. “Thank you.”

  “Sam had no idea who you were.”

  Sam’s face dropped into her hands.

  “Don’t take offense,” Anna added. “Sam lives in a bubble. She doesn’t know who anyone is.”

  “Thank you, Anna,” Sam muttered beneath her hands.

  Trin chuckled. “I can appreciate that.”

  “I’m sure you can,” Anna replied. “Are you here alone?”

  “Yeah,” he said, looking toward the door. “I was just recently abandoned actually.”

  “Mind if we save you?”

  “Please,” he said, gesturing toward the chairs. They all sat down.

  “So,” Anna began. “What’s it like swimming with amateurs?”

  Trin smiled. “You have a very good team here. They are far from amateurs.”

  “They’re not you.”

  Trin smiled. “No, but any one of them could be.”

  Anna’s brow rose in skepticism. “Right.”

  Trin changed the subject. “How about you?”

  “I’m here on a track and field scholarship studying communications, and Sam is here because she is the greatest dancer in the world.”

  Trin raised an eyebrow. “Really, the greatest?”

  Sam gave a weak smile. “The greatest,” she said, glaring at Anna. “Those Olympic world records of yours, you got nothing on me.”

  “I believe that,” he replied.

  Anna grinned; her matchmaking instincts going into high gear. “She’s already danced all over the country; she’s done television spots. You’ll have to come see her sometime.”