Seer

by Ashley Maker

  And possibly my last.

  Tarry swears up and down that steroids aren’t allowed on compound, but I’m still not sure I believe him when I take my place in front of Aaron. I mean, the guy is huge. Most of my time around him has been sitting across the table from each other. He towers over me. The mats crackle under his weight as he shifts from one foot to the other.

  He smirks and rubs both hands together. “I’ve been waiting to get my hands on you. I’d like to see what you’ve got.”

  Oh, I am so going to die.

  Okay, maybe not die, but I’ve seen the way Aaron dominates everyone else in the class, and he hasn’t even started phasing yet. When he does, he’ll be even stronger, and the rest of us will be in serious trouble. Lucky for me, I get to be in trouble right now.

  “Clear the mats,” Morris commands.

  Everyone but Tarry moves away.

  Morris narrows his eyes and points a finger at the rest of the class. “Get moving, Tarry. She’s settled in. Time for her to fight like the rest of us.”

  Tarry shoots me a pained stare, but I just shake my head. I’ve survived everything they’ve thrown at me so far. Surely, I can fight Aaron and come out okay. We’re friends. He won’t actually hurt me. I keep trying to tell myself that, but my muscles twitch as Aaron and I get into our stances. I curl and uncurl my fingers, refusing to meet the challenge in his gaze.

  “You have to breathe,” Laila snaps from the sidelines.

  I close my eyes and drag in a deep breath.

  “Touch fists,” Morris barks out, almost making me jump.

  Not putting it past Aaron to cheat, I keep a wary eye on him in case he tries to pull something when we bump fists. The second we step back, Morris drops his hand, signaling the fight to start.

  We circle each other.

  Aaron fakes right, then dodges left. I barely jump out of the way. Air hisses past my ear as his arms reach for me and miss. He growls, and I grin involuntarily. Hardy-har-har to the cocky behemoth for thinking he had me.

  My triumph is short-lived.

  Aaron kicks out, the top of his foot making contact with my upper thigh. I bite my lip to keep from crying out and stagger a few steps.

  Faster than I can follow, Aaron strikes at my face, and I flinch. But instead of a fist slamming into my temple, he opens his hand at the last second and pushes my head to the side with his palm. A flash of his smirk taunts me before Aaron grabs the back of my neck and flips me over his leg.

  My back collides with the mat.

  Trying to breathe is harder than it should be. Everything above me is unfocused and hazy. The sensation is like phasing, and panic starts to claw at my chest, until I realize everything’s fine—Aaron just knocked the wind out of me.

  Morris’ voice carries from the other side of the mats. “You have to call the fight. Until then it’s not over. He could technically be kicking you while you’re down if he wanted to.”

  I blink a few times. “I—”

  Aaron hauls me onto his shoulder before I can finish the sentence. “Too late, newbie. I say we go another round.” I squeal and punch his back, my heart rate skyrocketing when his hands slide across my body, positioning to do who knows what.

  Before he can, Tarry barrels onto the mats and pushes Aaron’s chest. “Put her down now, Aaron, before I kick your—”

  Aaron rips to the side, jostling me on his shoulder.

  “Tarry!” Laila hisses. “The fight isn’t over. Back off and let them finish, you idiot.”

  “Let it ride,” Morris says. “The fight’s evolved. Now, to set the scene, Clare has been kidnapped by a Rogue. Tarry, if you win the fight, it means she lives. If Aaron wins the fight, that means she’s dead.”

  I’m being hauled around like a sack of flour by a hulk-like brute, and the instructor is going to allow it? No, scratch that. He’s encouraging it?

  Well, forget this.

  I flail and kick and punch at any part of Aaron I can reach—anything to get him to put me down. His grip tightens into an iron vice. I gasp and slacken, pain shooting through my ribcage. He’s holding so tight I can’t move, can’t breathe, can hardly see as tiny sparks of light dance across my vision.

  Scuffling and movement send a wicked wave of vertigo sweeping through my senses when Tarry moves in and Aaron drops his right arm to block.

  Able to breathe again, I twist and swing an elbow into the back of Aaron’s neck. He makes a guttural sound and releases me, stumbling forward. My body thwacks onto the mat. Everything goes out of focus again. Except this time, my vision doesn’t clear. Pressure builds behind my eyes and they start blurring. The more I blink, the blurrier it gets, and that’s when I know it’s too late.

  I squeeze both eyes shut and shake my head, but can’t stop it. The phase is going to happen, and the only thing I can do is get out of the gym—as far away as I can get—before it does. Blood rushes to my head, pulsing at my temples and making me feel lightheaded, and I fear I’m going to phase right then and there, in front of everyone.

  Not right now, not right now, please not right now.

  I let the words become a chant in my head as I roll off the mat and stagger to the door. Laila calls out to me, and Tarry says something, too, but I can’t make out the words. I’m too focused on trying to slow my breathing down.

  But I can’t do it.

  My control starts slipping, and I know it’s only a matter of time—maybe seconds. In the hallway, I stumble and am caught by Laila’s arm around my shoulder.

  “Get me out of here,” I gasp.

  The exit looms at the end of the hall.

  Laila throws the door open and fresh spring air washes over me, soothing my flushed face. A thread of calm seeps back in. I focus on that thread, channeling every ounce of my willpower to enlarge it, to bring back my control. I breathe in deep and let the mountain air drench my lungs.

  The effort isn’t enough. A tiny vibration stings my eyes, and the blurring closes in. Trying to fight it is like inserting invisible needles straight into my corneas, but I can’t give in. Not with Laila right beside me. I can’t phase in front of her.

  I hold on a few seconds more, until finally a shuddering breath rips through me, and I accept that this is happening, that I can’t stop it.

  Breaking away from Laila’s arm on my shoulder, I jog forward a few steps, shielding my eyes with both hands. I don’t know where I’m going, but I go, and not a second too soon. The shift in my vision confirms what I’ve dreaded, except this time it’s immediately different. This time, the ground is covered in gold. Trails of it everywhere, a strange multi-layered blanket of golden snow. It’s on the grass, the walkways, and everywhere in between, as if someone took multiple shades of gold spray paint and drew lines over every available inch of ground, somehow crossing them over and under each other.

  Steps faltering, I stagger to a halt, swaying where I stand.

  My mouth opens and closes. I peek at the line of gold closest to me and squeak, jumping to the side and throwing my arms out for balance.

  There’s gold on my feet! It’s on me, it’s on me!

  I frantically bend down and swipe at it—get it off!—but it’s on my hands, too. A high-pitched gasp rips from my throat. My fingers pull at the bodysuit, yanking harshly on the sleeves. The gold’s all over my skin. I claw at my hands and arms, over and over, but it won’t come off—it has to come off.

  Hot, everything becomes hot, and I’m so nauseated it sets my head spinning, and there’s this pounding in my ears that makes everything sound like I’m underwater. One more time, I try to get the gold off my skin and am stunned when it works, disappearing as quickly as it came.

  My knees go weak; my vision tunnels.

  Falling, I’m falling.

  Like the gold, I disappear.

  23

  I regain consciousness almost immediately and am still alone, but someone is shouting my name. My eyes glaze over with tears, and at first I can’t breathe. Every time I try to
draw in a breath, a searing pain in my back cuts it off. Tears spill down my cheeks as I choke on sobs I can’t fully release. A sharp sting burns along my hands and wrists. The tears fall faster, obscuring my view of the clear blue sky.

  A face blocks out the sun, staring down at me.

  Tarry.

  He kneels in the grass and says something so softly I can’t hear it, but I think he knows I phased. They all must know. Even if they don’t, there’s no way I can explain what happened.

  Laila’s face appears beside Tarry’s. She pushes him to the side and leans over me. Her hands roam over the pulse on my neck. Voice strained, she says, “Clare, tell me what happened to you. Can you do that?”

  I shake my head from side to side. The tears are pouring furiously now. My lungs still burn with each breath.

  “I need you to talk to me,” Laila says.

  The sharp pain in my chest and back lets up some, allowing me to breathe a little easier. I finally manage a gasping cry of, “Kade…get Kade.”

  She nods and pulls out her phone. After a second, she says into it, “You need to get to the gym right now. Something happened. Clare ran out of class and collapsed. She’s asking for you.” A pause. “I think so. Okay, I’ll let you do that. I’ll tell her.”

  The smile she turns on me is too bright, the same kind a nurse gives right before sticking the needle in for a shot. “Kade is on the way. He said you’re probably phasing and that everything is going to be fine.” She hands the phone to Tarry. “Call Dad and tell him what happened. I think he’d want to know.”

  Tarry walks away with the phone, but not far enough I can’t hear him while he repeats the incident in all of its spastic-sounding glory. I cringe when he tells the part where I tried to get the gold off my skin.

  I hold my arms eye level. They look like I ran them across the jagged edge of a broken window, leaving long uneven scrapes down the backs of my hands and insides of my arms. A few thin lines of blood pool on my skin, dripping onto me; in other places, it’s not quite bleeding, but red is right at the surface. The more I look, the more my tattered arms hurt, so I clutch them to my chest and close both eyes tight, teeth gritted against the racking sobs.

  I’ve screwed up so bad. Now they’re going to cart me off to some lab, do who knows what to me, and never ever let me leave. All because I couldn’t keep it together.

  And I want Mom to be here so, so bad that my heart hurts. There’s even a part of me that wants Chris, but that only makes me cry harder because I don’t want to end up like him. I don’t want to be so tormented inside I have to drink fifths of Jack Daniels, or so messed up I ever hurt someone who should have been important to me.

  I can’t do this…I can’t. I’ll lose my mind.

  My eyes burn again, but I can’t open them. I won’t. I know what it means, and I’d rather the fire consumed me, taking my eyes and the phasing with it. But it’s all for nothing. Again, I prove too weak and the phase wins, eyelids prying open as if I have no control at all.

  Tarry kneels beside me again, eyes widening when I turn my gaze on his and stare into a green so vibrant it’s practically neon. Every part of his eyes are green, except for the edges—they’re ringed with a glowing golden band.

  Those eyes hypnotize me. They dry the tears and slow my shuddering breaths until the phase finally clicks off. He was right when he said it was like a switch. It is, the way it comes and goes.

  “There are those blue eyes,” he says, reaching up to smooth a lock of hair off my forehead.

  I open my mouth to say something, but stop and turn my head at the sound of rushing footsteps. Kade. He takes everything in without a word, crouching beside me as if Tarry isn’t even there.

  New tears leak through when he catches sight of my marred skin.

  His eyebrows draw together in a cringe. When our gazes lock, the understanding I need is reflected in his, and my breath hitches, a new sob rising up my throat. He scoops me off the grass, and I fade into his arms. The last thing I see before burying my face in his shirt is Tarry standing off by himself, fists clenched at his sides.

  Kade’s voice reverberates in his chest. “Go to the infirmary. Tell them we’re on our way.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Laila says, and for once she doesn’t sound sure of herself. She sounds shaken.

  Running footsteps slap softly against the ground before eventually ebbing away.

  “You should get back to class, Blaydell.” Kade tightens his grip and starts walking. After a stretch of silence, he says, “What happened back there? Who did this to your arms?”

  I crane my head to look at him. “I did.”

  He raises one eyebrow, a silent question.

  “I tried—” My voice cracks. I try again, the words almost a whisper. “I tried to get away from everybody, but I couldn’t. Then it happened, but it wasn’t the same. Everything was gold, and it was everywhere. It was on me, too, and I…I wanted it off.”

  His eyes narrow with a confused look. “Everything was gold?”

  I can’t keep my voice from shaking. “Is that normal? Was I phasing?”

  Kade’s arms tighten around me even more. “No. It’s not normal. At least, I don’t think it is. We’re about to find out.”

  Something hard knots up inside of me at his words. It’s like an insect is clawing from the inside out, and it feels like madness. I barely choke out the words, “What will they do to me?”

  He stops walking. Everything goes still except for our chests breathing in and out. “I won’t let anything happen to you. They’re going to patch up your arms and ask you a lot of questions. That’s all.”

  My whole body stiffens. Ignoring the sharp twinge of pain, I put a hand flat on his chest and push myself out so I can see his face better.

  “That’s all?” I ask, disbelief coloring my voice. “They’re going to talk to me? No tests or laboratories? No trying to dissect me to know why I’m seeing all of this?”

  “Of course not.”

  The knot inside begins to unravel, pulling at my strength. With a huge sigh, I relax and lean against his chest. I close my eyes and keep them shut until Kade says, “I’m sorry, Clare, but I need to ask something of you.”

  I wait.

  “I put my job on the line by not telling Mathias what I knew about your phasing. Can you cover for me?”

  “You want me to lie?”

  I don’t know whether to be shocked or impressed by his audacity.

  “No,” he says. “I want you to omit things. They don’t need to know everything to figure out that what’s been happening to you isn’t typical.”

  The request makes me squirm. I struggle until he gently sets me on my feet. Facing him, I stare into his eyes, trying to decipher what I see there. He looks serious, desperate even. Maybe a little scared. My heart squeezes in response.

  He risked his job to help me. To keep my secret. How can I deny him this?

  “I won’t tell them you helped me.” I start to hug myself only to gasp when the scrapes chafe against my bodysuit. Wincing, I hold them out in front of me. Dried blood forms red ribbons along my skin. The sight of it sends a chill skittering down my spine.

  “Come on, I’ll take you to get fixed up,” Kade says, wrapping one arm across my back. His warmth seeps in and unfreezes my frozen limbs. We walk together like that until doors loom before us and I realize the huge mistake I’ve made.

  He led me straight to the lodge, the same one that houses the padded cells.

  A shudder ripples from head to toe when we enter the main doors and my sparring boots touch the gleaming wooden floor. I can’t stop picturing that cell.

  “Kade….” Fear clings to my voice. “Why are we here? You said they just wanted to look at my arms and ask questions. Promise me I don’t have to go back to that cell. Please. Promise me.”

  Kade draws me closer, his arm tightening around my lower back, and turns slightly so we’re facing each other. “Bambi,” he says, the word a soft sigh on his lips.
“Nobody here wants to put you in a cell or a lab, I promise.”

  “Really?”

  With his free hand, he reaches up and touches my cheek. Fingertips graze across my skin, so light I can barely feel them. “Really. They’ll eventually want to do tests, but it’s nothing like that. They’ll test your abilities through field examinations. Mathias already mentioned that.”

  My thoughts thrash—they shift—and I find myself incredibly aware of how his hand feels on the hollowed spot above my hip bone. Firm. Strong. Warm. His touch on my face is light and melting. Or maybe that’s how I feel. I want to get lost in the sensation, throw myself into his arms and forget about the phasing and what might happen next.

  Kade’s hand tenses on my hip, fingers pressing against the lycra of my bodysuit. “We need to go. They’re waiting for you.”

  I clutch at his arms, still desperate, still terrified of facing them. “What am I supposed to do? They weren’t supposed to find out. Everything hinged on them not finding out.”

  Kade cradles my face in both hands and stares deep into my eyes. “We’ll figure out something else together. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  My lips tremble, but I nod. He wraps an arm around my waist and leads me past the dreaded hallway that leads to the cells. I try not to think about them, or where we’re going, but a tremor twines through me upon arriving at an automatic set of double doors. Through their glass is the sterile interior of a pristine waiting area.

  They’re waiting for me with questions I can hardly face, let alone answer.

  A dark chill dissolves my courage. “I don’t want to do this.”

  “I know.”

  The way he says it makes me feel like he really does know, reminding me I don’t have to do this by myself. With a deep breath, I step forward. The doors open, and as I’ve come to expect, people stare when we walk in.

  “There you guys are,” Laila says from across the room. “I was beginning to think something happened.”

  Kade shrugs. “She wanted to walk. It took longer to get here.”

  She takes a look at my arms. “Your room is ready.”