by Emme DeWitt
Hadn’t that been around the same time of the power surge at Windermere?
“Hey,” I said, my hand still frozen in the air. Aleks walked out from behind the bar, stopping five feet away automatically.
“What is it?” he asked.
“When did your brothers die?” I asked. “And did they die all at once?”
“One passed three years ago, the other two about eighteen months ago,” Aleks said, his arms crossed over his chest, the dim light throwing his strong angular features into sharper contrast. “Why?”
My timeline was spot on. I was afraid to assert my next guess.
“Did their abilities happen to be on the vitality, sentient, and temporal planes? In that order,” I said, my hands drifting slowly to my lap.
Aleks shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“But you didn’t inherit their powers, right?” I asked, searching for his eyes in the darkness.
“No,” he replied. “What are you thinking?”
“A quote unquote mysterious outbreak of powers happened at a secluded prep school run by the Association at the exact time of several unsolved supernatural deaths,” I said to Aleks, our eyes locked in understanding. “Those energies don’t just disappear, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” Aleks said. “I know exactly what you’re talking about.”
The door burst open. Both Aleks’ and my necks snapped to the new threat, and I was already on my feet. Niko appeared in the doorway, his nostrils flaring as he tried to steady his breathing.
“Boss,” he said. “We’ve got problems.”
“Problems? Like, what kind of problems?” I said, my voice cracking in immediate panic. Could they have found me so quickly? “I thought you said no one called you Boss.”
Aleks raised his hand toward my face, his focus hawklike on Niko.
“Immediate physical threat?” Aleks asked, taking a step toward me reflexively, obscuring my eye line to the door.
“Eli says your uncle is on his way. She’s estimating five minutes or less,” Niko said, his head inclined emphatically. Apparently, that answered Aleks’s question, but didn’t give me any indication what level of screwed I was about to be.
I frowned. How did Aleks’ uncle play in to everything? He had mentioned a cousin earlier, but not an uncle. Aleks’ face grew stormy, and the dark energy surrounding him slowly seeped out. He stood in a cloud of murky black aura, almost like a storm system with his body as the eye. My arms prickled with electricity.
“Aleks,” I said through clenched teeth. The wave of darkness began encroaching on the rest of the room, shrinking the safe zone we had built between one another. He turned his head slightly toward me, as if he was listening, but not enough to be fully distracted.
“Who’s with him? Do we know?” Aleks directed the questions toward Niko, who replied with a simple shrug.
“She called me at the widow’s house. I had to hop three time zones. Didn’t offer details,” Niko said, his chest still rising and falling steadily to catch his breath.
“Aleks,” I said, my voice sharp with command as his dark energy got within six inches of my scuffed sneakers.
He whipped his head around, the anger in his eyes now fully focused on me.
“What?” he said. I took a step back from the venom in his voice. I moved away from the stacks of chairs toward the wide-open dance floor.
“You’re…” I faltered, trying to find the right word. “Leaking.” My hand waved unhelpfully at him, and I shuffled back slowly step by step.
A look of pure confusion crossed his face, but the anger returned after the briefest of flickers.
“Boss?” Niko chimed in unhelpfully. “What’s the plan?”
Aleks’ gaze remained locked on mine.
“This would be much easier if you were a little better trained,” Aleks said, frustration pinching his features.
“That’s nice to think about. Is there some sort of secret academy I don’t know about? I’d be more than happy to go,” I shot back, eyeing the progress of his energy seeping out toward me. “Maybe a nice afterschool program?”
“How should I know?” Aleks said. “Not exactly qualified for all the Elevated trade secrets.”
“Your family is just as much supernatural as mine. Even more so,” I argued. “Do they have a handbook? Maybe a wiki page of some sort?” As much as it seemed like a sassy comment, I really would be quite desperate for a textbook on Empaths right now. Studying I could do. Winging it? Not working out well for me right now.
“Of course not,” Aleks said, his arms crossed. “Is this Boy Scouts?”
“Yeah, well, you’re not doing great in the control department either,” I continued. “For not being supernatural, you sure have a lot of power.”
“You’re the first one to mention it,” Aleks said.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Niko flex his hands impatiently.
“Listen, if you can’t control your energy, I need to go. Far away,” I warned him. “I’ll go wherever you want. I won’t cause trouble. I promise.” My back hit a structural column, and I braced myself for the onslaught of dark energy that had nearly filled the room, my hair falling like a curtain over my turned face.
I should have aimed toward the nearest emergency exit, I thought in hindsight, the carved plaster biting into my shoulder blades. I was always the worst about new places. I bit my lips together to keep from whimpering as the dark mass licked at my rubber insoles.
Aleks let out a guttural noise, his energy flaring briefly. I started to feel dizzy. I couldn’t feel my toes anymore.
“Niko, take her to the widow while I deal with my uncle,” Aleks said. “Go now and stay there. I’ll call once it’s all clear.”
“Boss?” Niko said, his eyes wide, not wanting to contradict an order he thought he misheard.
“Now, Niko,” Aleks said. He ran his fingers slowly through his hair, already on to the next immediate problem. His eyes were clouded over with thought.
I blinked, and Niko was next to me. I jolted, unnerved at how quickly he got to me.
“It’s better if you close your eyes,” Niko said softly into my ear, his hand already on my shoulder. “Count of three. Like a bandaid.”
Niko glanced back toward Aleks, giving him an affirmative nod in some unspoken agreement. As I waited for Niko’s countdown, I thought idly about where I had been only yesterday. Could I really be missing the poking, the prodding, and Quentin’s unending monologues? I tugged the cuff of my jacket down to hide my hands, looking down at my dirty shoes one more time before I surrendered to the leap, refusing to think about the institution any more. An eerie calmness had settled over me, and I understood Aleks’ dark energy had sapped me of my panic, stilling my animal brain.
Serenely, I thought it wouldn’t be the worst thing to puke on my shoes. Something told me I would be needing proper boots if I were to stick around in Aleks’ world, and my beat up sneakers were the very least of my problems.
My knees slammed to the ground hard. I was able to catch the rest of my upper body with my wrists, but the shock jarred my whole body, the gravel cutting into my hands and shredding them.
“Sorry,” Niko said. “I’m not used to such a tiny passenger.”
I groaned, doing my best to push myself to an upright position. The world turned underneath me, and I yelped. Niko had grabbed me and set me right, as easily as a doll. A doll with blood staining her hands and knees. I wiped my scratched palms on my jeans to get rid of the debris. The cuts were superficial and stopped bleeding at the lightest pressure, and I let out a huge sigh.
“Come inside,” Niko directed me, leading the way down the gravel path to the old bungalow. I followed, attempting to look natural while still scanning my surroundings.
The small house sat on a hill surrounded by jutting rocks and rolling expanses of green. The grass seemed more moss like than the blades I was more familiar with, and I wondered where I was. I could hear the winds howling
down and around the many hills and valleys, and the salt gathering on my face told me the ocean was nearby.
Niko’s frame filled the entire doorway, and he had to duck to enter. The small house was clearly old yet well kept. It blended in with the nature around it, becoming one instead of commandeering the landscape.
I brushed my fingertips on the mantle of the doorway, assessing people more my size had built it. Immediately I felt comforted, the soft wood cushioning my fingertips like velvet. My palms still stung, but the familiarity of the house soothed the aches I felt. My anxiety drifted softly down like silt in a stream. It felt different from Aleks’ own dark energy, but a small itch in the back of my mind did wonder if it wasn’t also supernatural.
Niko’s face loomed in front of me, startling me out of my reverie.
“Come inside,” he repeated, turning back around in the narrow hall.
I followed the path of slate before me and was reminded of the layout of the Landing. Something about the rickety stairs, this time downward, and the kitchen residing at the back made me wonder if the same builder hadn’t been involved. My fingers trailed down the crumbling plaster walls as I was guided to the back of the house. The timing seemed right.
A wall of warm, spicy aroma greeted me as soon as I crossed the threshold into the kitchen. A kettle was near whistling, and I could smell a variety of herbs, some of which were hanging above the windowsill in neat bouquets. Abuela would be able to identify them all, I thought. A lump formed in the back of my throat as I reminded myself that I would not be able to ask her.
“I’m going to grab more wood,” Niko said, indicating the empty pallet near the wood smoke oven. “Stay here.”
I nodded and watched him step out the back door and down into the nearest copse of trees. A shed was nestled in the shadows, and I could make out a pile of logs under a tarp. The view was distorted, though, the glass old and bubbled. I retreated to a small wooden table against the wall to wait patiently, as promised.
The chairs were sturdy but imperfect. I wondered if they had been handmade, and if so, how long ago. Time and many human hands had smoothed them down, and they shone in the fading evening light. I looked around for a clock but couldn’t find one. The kettle whistled, and I leapt from my seat to take it off before my ears bled.
A teapot sat waiting with leaves in a mesh basket. I poured the hot water carefully over the dried flakes, careful not to propel them outside the basket and ruin the tea. A more potent version of the smell I had first been greeted with filled my nose, and I smiled. It had been a long time since I’d had tea like this.
I set the empty kettle back on the stove, careful not to leave the burner on. The lid of the pot was not on the counter, so I bustled about, pulling out drawers and opening cabinets in an effort to find it.
Suddenly, I heard a rattling in one of the far drawers. I hesitated. Did they have dangerous rodents wherever this was? What could possibly be making such a ruckus in the drawer?
I braced myself, taking a deep breath in and opening the drawer upon exhale. The lid sat rattling furiously, stilling only when my fingertips brushed it.
Then it hummed.
My fingers froze just above it, as it had stilled. After a long moment, it began fidgeting again.
I clamped my palm around it, picking it up, and it hummed again before I dropped it securely into its intended spot.
“It likes you,” an old voice croaked out behind me, causing me to spin around, my hand knocking over the teapot. I cried out, trying to right the teapot, but it was unnecessary. It was frozen in midair between the counter and the floor. My hands framed the teapot in midair as I froze, too, realizing it had saved itself.
“Go on, then,” the voice said. “I’d like a cuppa if you don’t mind. Mugs are next to the spice rack.”
I turned my head, keeping one eye on the frozen teapot and the other on the old woman, who sat contentedly at the small table. She had on what seemed like several layers of shawls, and her feet dangled from the chair like a child’s, her feet in leather mules stuffed with hand knit stockings.
She gave me an encouraging nod, and I grabbed the handle of the teapot delicately, lifting it from its invisible cushion and setting it back on the counter. I plucked two stoneware mugs from the hooks she had indicated, and the weight of them took me by surprise. I almost dropped them as well.
I recovered, ferrying the items to the table and setting them on top of the worn floral pattern lacework doily. I poured the tea out into the two mugs, my hands shaking enough to cause the top of the teapot to rattle in response. I stilled it with a few fingers, and I felt a surge of warmth in response.
Once the pot was empty, I walked it back to the counter, scooting it far enough from the edge there would be no way for it to fall again. I grabbed the small tea service tray, noticing the sugar lumps and cream already set out, along with a variety of small cookies. I slowed my normal walking pace, trying to ensure the cream didn’t slosh out of the miniature pitcher on the tray before I set it delicately on the table.
I sat across from the woman, and she greeted me with a warm smile.
“I love a good cuppa,” she said, her body dancing with delight as she grabbed a cookie from the platter. “Soothes for whatever ails you.” Her legs continued to swing merrily beneath the table. My feet did touch the floor, amazingly enough, and I sat silently, trying to guess exactly how petite this woman was and how she appeared from nowhere just in time for tea.
Niko appeared suddenly, letting the door bang open as he carried a large armful of wood from the shed. My hand flew out in surprise and almost knocked over my tea cup.
“Sorry,” he said, moving to deposit the load. A crisp breeze followed him in, and I abandoned my tea to close the door quickly. The old woman continued munching on her cookie as if nothing had happened. “See you two have met.”
I looked at Niko with a confused expression, begging him to tell me who she was before I had to ask. He surveyed the two of us, his face ambivalent.
“Grab a cuppa,” the old woman said, waving at the teapot from her seat. I blushed.
“I’ll make another pot,” I stammered, indicating the chair I had just vacated. “Here, have mine.”
Niko shrugged, taking the offered seat as I headed back to the counter. He grabbed two cookies and several lumps of sugar, offering one to the old woman.
“No thank you, dear,” she said, her smile never faltering. “Not much for the sweet stuff.”
Niko raised his eyebrow as she took another cookie, giving in with a shrug. I turned my focus to filling the kettle and getting a fresh basket of tea leaves.
“Birdie!” a voice called from across the house, startling me from my task. I didn’t remember being so jumpy.
I let down my barriers, scanning the house for inhabitants. I scolded myself for not doing this immediately upon my ungraceful landing, but my scattered mind was out of practice in new spaces. Other than the kitchen, two small blips came up, both of them ringed in white. Not a single soul in the house was merely human. I bit my cheek, trying to school my features into oblivious calm.
The two little blips rocketed toward the kitchen, and I laughed out loud when I saw they were children, a possibility I had overlooked in my nerve-shocked brain. A young girl with fraying braids and what looked to be her younger brother, with dirt obscuring the freckles on his face. Their eyes flickered toward me briefly, but their attention was immediately diverted to the tray of cookies.
“Yes, dear,” the old woman, Birdie, said, directing her gummy smile toward the little ones.
“Sebastian pulled my hair,” the young girl said, her face immediately contorting in a pout. She even had tears forming in her eyes, her lip quivering.
“Did not!” Sebastian, the freckled boy, shouted. He crossed his arms in protest. “Vivvy pushed me down first.”
“First?” Niko said, taking another bite of cookie. “So you did pull her hair.”
“She was sitting on me!�
�� Sebastian crowed. “I couldn’t breathe!” Sebastian mimed his near death experience, his eyes bulging from his head as he made a choke collar with his tiny hands.
The little girl’s waterworks began in full effect, her sniffling cutting through her brother’s shouts.
“Both of you apologize,” Birdie said, blowing on her steaming mug to cool the tea. “And then you can have a cookie.”
“Sorry!” both shouted at each other, sobering up immediately at the prospect of a cookie. They held out their tiny hands in offering. Birdie placed a cookie in each, and the two scurried away, taking their bickering back into the other part of the house.
I stood still against the counter, too overwhelmed to move. The kettle whistled behind me, and I slowly moved to complete my original task.
“Never mind them, dear,” Birdie called out to me. “It’ll take the sea and the stars to separate those two.”
“I remember,” I said softly, clearing my throat, “what that’s like.” Tomas and I used to shout and play rough like that. I took in a deep breath, releasing all the tension and anxiety that had suddenly welled up in that breath. I had to be careful not to get overwhelmed again. Until the ultimate Elevated manual appeared out of thin air, I would have to do more to catch up in controlling my abilities. Aleks’ warning had already buried itself deep in my mind.
I grabbed a mug and joined Birdie and Niko at the table. The familiarity of the scene was palpable. I couldn’t help but wonder what alternate universe I had gotten myself into where strangers felt like family and family felt like strangers.
And I could tell it was about to get weirder.
“So,” Birdie said, leaning toward me and shading her mouth from Niko’s line of sight. “What’re you in for?”
Niko cleared his throat, excusing himself from the table. He wasn’t much for conversation, but his body language made it clear he knew he wasn’t wanted. I opened my mouth to ask him to sit down, but he waved his phone at me, indicating he would be checking in out of earshot. I snapped my mouth shut and let him go without argument.
