Shine: The Knowing Ones

by Amy Freeman

  Eyes to the floor her lips parted in a gasp. It was true, the nightmares, visions, the disembodied voices. He did know. All this time he had. It was real. It all meant something and he knew what it was.

  She lifted her gaze. “Protect me from what, Trin?”

  Trin took her shoulders in his strong hands. “I do know what’s going on,” he said. “You’re not hallucinating and you’re not crazy. But I can’t tell you yet. Please,” he said, “just give me a little more time to find the best way to keep you safe.”

  Sam pulled away, eyes wide with shock. He pulled her back. “Sam, please...”

  “Safe from what, Trin?” she said, breaking loose. “I want to know, especially if it involves my safety.”

  “That’s why I can’t tell you yet.” Trin took her by the shoulders again, muscled arms flexing as he forced her closer to him.

  “You do deserve to know, you absolutely do. But it goes a lot deeper than you can possibly imagine. I know you don’t understand it, but I do and I need you to trust me. It isn’t safe, and I have to keep you safe. It is my job!”

  A spiral of panic wound its way down Sam’s spine, taking her words, leaving her speechless.

  “I’ve been protecting you from the night we met,” Trin said. “It’s what I do. Look at me, Sam,” he ordered, his gaze inches from hers. “You know me.”

  Sam stared back, unraveling under his gaze while fear and frustration tore her in every direction.

  “You know me.” Pulling her closer, his powerful grip tightened. “Your gifts are no random party trick.” A fleeting shock of white blue lit his irises. His hand left her shoulder and drifted downward. Lacing fingers with Sam he pushed his palm against hers. A charge of energy pulsed through her and an image appeared in her mind—a bird’s eye view of a crowded Eastern European city, thousands of people making their way through the streets, experiencing their lives, going about their day.

  The crowd didn’t appear to Sam as people normally did. No visible energy; no auras, just people, thousands of human spirits, unreadable beneath the cover of flesh.

  As if a switch had been flipped, energy erupted around each one; exposing each distinct aura, indicating their own place on the path of life. Some faint, some explosive, some radiant, some hazy. Deep in thought, consumed by work, grieving over lost loved ones, rejoicing in success and love. Humanities’ energetic components actively vibrated within the fabric of human consciousness, the way she was used to seeing it.

  She closed in on a troubled man, despondent, lost. Another man next to him offered counsel and support, his aura healthy and vibrant, appearing as the others. In a flash it blinked out as another aura ruptured from beneath it—beautiful shimmering blue light cascading over him, extending to the troubled man, swallowing him up in healing light.

  A woman five feet away erupted in the same blinding blue light. Ten feet from her another, across the crowded street, another and another down the block. So many revealing at once Sam couldn’t keep track. The vision zoomed out. Brilliant sky-blue auras everywhere, just like Trin’s minus the gold.

  The vision shifted. Sam stood alone in blinding white light, golden aura solid around her, unyielding depth in her eyes. They gleamed, pushing, prodding—remember... remember.

  Trin appeared behind her like thunder, a presence she could not comprehend, indescribably humbling. Moving to her side, he took her hand. On contact his golden blue aura spilled into her, gleaming in a halo around her body, generating power Sam could never hope to sustain. A foreign word flashed through her mind. ВЄДУНИ. She fell forward into Trin.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  S am leaned in shock against his solid chest, his heart racing beneath her. He held her close as truth resonated through her. She didn’t know what she had just seen, but she knew it was bigger than she was—much bigger. She trembled, unsure if she even wanted to know anymore—the enormity of it. What must the opposite side of it be? Sinister jade eyes hovered in her memory. She pulled Trin closer—refusing to believe the monster was more powerful than he was.

  She slowly lifted her head from his chest, wanting answers, not wanting answers, and wanting relief from the terror that gripped her. She reached down, taking his right wrist. Exquisite gold links slipped against his skin as she turned his masculine hand, taking the thin plate of gold in her fingers, exposing the underside. The foreign word to the left of the stone held her captive. She looked up. “It’s not just you...”

  Trin shook his head.

  “There are so many.”

  “An entire race,” he said.

  With a gasp she lowered her head.

  “Please don’t be afraid,” he whispered, lifting her chin. “I will explain everything, I promise,” he said, “when I’m convinced it’s safe.”

  Sam hesitated.

  “I promise,” he said.

  Staring into his vibrant blue eyes, she nodded in acceptance.

  He pulled her tightly to him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  T hough the crippling fear was gone, Sam’s many questions remained, her thoughts continually circling back to one thing.

  She looked up at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I won’t ask how or why you can do it, but will you show me how you do it?”

  “Show you how I do what?”

  “Control water,” she replied.

  Trin hesitated a moment, then turned for the kitchen sink. “Control isn’t the right word.”

  “Whatever,” she said, following behind him.

  He put the stopper in place, turned on the faucet and began to fill the sink. She stood by him, reeling in anticipation. Turning toward her, he noted the childlike excitement in her aura, shaking his head with a soft laugh.

  He shut the faucet off. With one hand resting on the edge of the sink he held the other out over the water. Golden light saturated his aura and the water began to vibrate. Sam jumped, grabbing at his shoulder. “Sorry,” she said pulling her hands away.

  Trin chuckled. “You can hang on if you want.”

  She paused then wrapped her fingers around his beautifully sculpted shoulder and watched. The water spun, slowly at first and then picking up speed, whirling faster and faster until a mini tower formed, rising from the water’s surface to the palm of his hand like a tiny tornado. It held for a moment and dropped, splashing down into the sink. The golden light left the water and returned to Trin.

  They both stood silent for a moment. Sam jumped back, throwing her hands over her mouth. “That was so cool!” She pushed her fingers into her long dark hair. “Do it again!”

  Trin smiled, shaking his head. He repeated the show, Sam holding tight to his arm. The visual was impressive, but the power coming off him was astonishing, flooding through her like an electric charge. He released the water again.

  Sam stared. “That is the most amazing thing I have ever seen.”

  Trin shrugged.

  She blinked. “You just commanded the water, Trin.”

  “I didn’t command it,” he said. “It’s more like a partnership.”

  She gazed at him. “It’s incredible.”

  “It’s just physics, Sam. Physics and intention.”

  “No,” she said. “What you do with water, that’s just you.”

  He didn’t reply. She let it drop, eyes drifting to the floor. “The white in your aura,” she said. “What is that? Can you tell me?”

  Trin watched her, his eyes glinting. “It’s a mantel for protection,” he finally replied, “a warrior emblem.”

  Sam didn’t respond. Trin glanced at the floor. “We are all taught to fight early on,” he said, “but not for reasons you might think. Violence is a cancer. We don’t condone it. We begin with Russian martial arts when we are very young, a style in direct harmony with what we believe, neutralizing and dispelling conflict.” His expression darkening with some unspoken thought. “I don’t hurt anyone unless it is absolutely warranted,” he said. “But I can kil
l instantly.”

  His words caught her off guard. She drew in a slow breath. “And this training causes the light?”

  “It doesn’t cause the light,” he said. “It’s the result of additional knowledge. I defend on all levels of consciousness. Not all attacks are physical. I can turn it on when I need it. It’ll flash as a warning or lock for a fight.”

  Sam paused. “It locked earlier with Ryan, but you didn’t fight him.”

  Trin’s jaw tightened. “Today was a reflex,” he said. “I stayed where I was because a warrior shield isn’t necessary to fight another human being. You never fight another human in a warrior shield. He’ll never get up again.” Trin pushed himself away from the counter and crossed the room. He was done talking.

  Sam’s blood ran cold. She took a deep breath and made her way over to him.

  He stood, arms folded across his chest, staring at the floor. She slid her arms around his waist resting her head against his muscled back. His arms moved to hers, pulling her to him. He turned, drawing her in an embrace, exhaling as she molded to him.

  “I’m sorry I ask so many questions,” she said. “I really just want to understand.”

  “I know.”

  She sighed, looking up at him. “You’re going to be an excellent scientist.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “We’ll see,” he said. “My views are not very conventional.”

  “That’s why you’ll be good,” she said. “You already know everything. You can prove everyone wrong.”

  Trin laughed a little. “Not always a favorable position to be in,” he said. “Galileo proved everyone wrong and things weren’t so pleasant for him. Newton kept some of his findings hidden until his death, fearing persecution because they were in direct contrast to the beliefs of that time. Not many scientists are too keen on telepathy and energetic manipulation.”

  “Or making it rain.”

  Trin laughed. “Or making it rain. It may be a while before I show that one off.” His smile faded. “Unveiling truth can be terrifying, especially when there is a well-established and broadly accepted explanation that yields to the contrary. But truth is truth and to dismiss it as fantasy or imagination keeps us from growing. We’re famous for fearing the unknown. It stifles us.”

  Sam looked back at the sink full of water. “Will you teach me how to manipulate water?”

  Trin raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think you’re ready for that kind of power.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You have unresolved anger issues.”

  Sam balked. “Really?” She laughed and directed a slap toward his shoulder.

  More gracefully than any dance step she could ever execute he dodged and blocked the blow.

  Sam’s jaw dropped. “What was that?”

  “This is what I’m talking about,” he said.

  She went to push him, missing him again as he shrugged out of her way, this time laughing. “You do realize that I’m bigger than you?” he said, blocking another blow. “I hope you don’t always pick fights with guys twice your size.”

  “Ugh!” she exploded. She went to shove him again only to find herself thrown over his massive shoulder en route through the sitting room. Sam shrieked. “What are you doing?”

  “Dispelling the conflict.”

  She pounded on his muscular back, laughing as he carried her into her room and dumped her on her bed. “If we’re going to make Vig’s show you’d better stop throwing down and get ready.”

  Sam guffawed grabbing a pillow, tossing it at him. His solid hand knocked it to the side. “Why?” he asked. “You’re not winning.”

  She took another pillow in both hands and threw herself into him. He caught her shoulders in his iron grasp, holding her about five inches from his face.

  The atmosphere shifted, as their eyes locked. Sensual magnetism ignited, far more demanding than before, spinning, churning, with relentless force. Skirting the very periphery of their own free will the energy took on a life of its own, heart rates increasing, dense sensuality encapsulating them both, pulling at them, drawing them closer.

  Sam could see him fighting it. Why? Both desire and restraint flashed in his nearly fluorescent blue eyes, his Herculean will crumbling before her. His jaw went tight, inhaling as he loosened his grip. Stepping back a bit, he looked at his watch. “Get ready and I’ll be back for you in about half an hour.” He turned, walked out of the room, and left the apartment.

  Sam balked, staring through the empty doorway in disbelief. There was no question they both wanted the same thing. She had never experienced anything like it and she was certain he hadn’t either; yet he had totally bolted. She didn’t think he could have left more adamantly if the room had been on fire.

  She threw herself back onto her bed. The pillow that had created the only barrier between them a few seconds earlier now covered her face. Her exasperation obscured the lingering energy out in the dorm hallway as Trin leaned forward with his head against the wall. A firm fist planted against it enduring his own unbearable torment.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  T rin moved out into the dark night toward his truck, grateful for the chill in the air clearing his mind of the unexpected, carnal tunnel vision that had blasted him in Sam’s room. Never in his life had he been so given to an emotion—emotion, living power; a power he had never known, drowning him in insignificance and humility.

  He pulled his keys out of his pocket, headlights flashing as he pressed the unlock button on the key chain and pulled the door open. He stood a moment holding the door, but didn’t get in. A vivid image held him in place; one soaking wet, beautiful, alluring Samantha lying on her bed in front of him, energy welcoming him.

  He shook his head. “I can’t do this.” He climbed into the truck and shut the door.

  “Как у тебя все, Trinton?” How are things going?

  Trin jumped. The voice had come from the passenger’s seat, and he turned to find Anvil staring forward through the windshield. With a heartfelt glare in Anvil’s direction, Trin blew out a breath, wrapping both arms around the top of his steering wheel. Anvil paused, glancing down. “Much has occurred since your initial decision to keep Samantha in the dark,” he said. He looked at Trin. “Do you still feel this is best?”

  Trin sat back in his seat pushing his hands through his hair. Vulnerable conflict rippled just beneath the surface of his well-constructed surety.

  Anvil cast a downward glance. “There is something else,” he said. “The separate energy Mikhail sensed with Ashbel at Bergen-Belsen is proving to be more sinister than we thought.”

  Trin glanced up. “What is it?”

  “We are unsure as of yet. In Mikhail’s vision the dark energy was tied to a kindjal. He saw it directly after he saw Ashbel. We don’t know what it means, but it isn’t good.” He looked at Trin. “Mikhail is researching everything he can think of to make a connection.”

  Trin’s head dropped back against the headrest. More questions, no answers.

  “We just don’t know enough yet,” Anvil said. “Answers will come, Trinton. This isn’t more than you are capable of handling. But new, inexplicable developments are occurring regularly. It is imperative you tell Sam who she is. We need her. We must have communication with the Divinity; not just to fulfill our mission as a people, but to survive. You must ignite the Oracle power.”

  “I can’t,” Trin said. “I know what I’m feeling. I know it doesn’t make sense but I am being told to wait.”

  Anvil sat silent for a moment. “You must tell her who she is,” he said. “She is the Veduny Oracle. Your mission is to bring the Oracle power back. You need to focus on that and have faith the Divinity knows things you do not. They knew what you were up against when they sent you to do this. There is a plan. But you must follow it.” He looked to his successor. “Stop trying to do this alone, Trinton. It is counterproductive and unnecessary. You know the best way to handle your mission. Trust in t
he Divinity. Listen to your instincts. We are at the mercy of your decisions. You are all we have.” And with that he was gone.

  Trin sat alone in his truck, staring through the windshield, overwhelmed, frustrated. The staggering enormity of his ever compiling challenges left him feeling incapable—an emotion he knew nothing about.

  His gaze drifted to Sam’s bedroom window. Solace and refuge lay beyond the glass and he ached for her. She housed the ability to heal him in his moment of self-doubt. But he had done nothing to prepare her. He had taken giant steps backward instead. Regardless of his intentions he had fallen behind in his duty. Or had he? He didn’t know anymore.

  Lamp light glowed with inviting warmth through the drawn curtains. Anvil was right. He knew what had to be done. He opened the truck door, climbed out, and shut it tight. Still conflicted, mentally exhausted, and not knowing how he was going to do it he walked back toward the dorm entrance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  Sam climbed out of the shower and dried off. She was rushed, confused, even angry. Never before had she sensed such conflicted energy in another person. What is wrong with him? Wrapped in a towel, she raced over to her dresser and began digging for clothes. Bra, underwear, jeans—she tossed it all onto her bed and made a beeline for her closet. Should I be offended? And that intensity...I’m pretty sure that’s not normal.

  Sam had never been in love before, but this surpassed anything she had ever even heard of. Opening the closet door, she found a shirt, pulled it from the hanger, and tossed it on the bed with everything else. She reached in the back, grabbing a jacket and threw it on the bed as well. Tossing the towel aside she began dressing with lightning speed—confusion and unanswered questions running through her head the entire time.

  I don’t know how much longer I can take this. Underwear and bra were on. If something doesn’t give soon—she stopped. Lifting her head toward her bedroom door, she focused. A familiar security swept through the room. She stared. Eyes still on the door, she grabbed for her robe and pulled it on, a short hemline, thin satin material that didn’t conceal much, but her thoughts lay elsewhere, captivated by the glorious energy filling the room. Why was he back?