by Skye Genaro
"You've never told me what your skills are." I gave him a friendly nudge. "You spent the last nine years living in nirvana. You must be an expert at something. Postcognition? Pyrokinesis?"
"Nope." Jaxon's gaze jogged along the counter.
"A healer? No? Okay, let me read your aura. I bet I can guess."
His lip curled. "Don't bother."
"Isn't that cute. You have a shy side."
"I'm part of the twenty percent." He crossed his arms.
"Twenty percent?"
The corners of his eyes dropped and he flashed a pout, like do I really have to explain it to you? Then I remembered. "Eighty percent of West Region citizens have at least one gift."
"The rest don't. Since I was born here, it's no surprise," he added.
"But everyone in West Region gets training." That was the key to bringing out talent in some of the kids.
"It was a big waste of time. Nothing ever developed," he answered.
As his eyes found the far wall, I gave his shoulder a squeeze. Living in Connor's world without any ability must have made him feel even more out of place, and that I could relate to.
"No wonder you're not afraid of the factions," I said cheerfully. "You're free from all this paranormal junk. They won't want anything to do with you." I'd meant it as a sort of compliment. Like, look on the bright side.
"That's another reason I'm glad to be back in my own time. West Region doesn't respect you unless you have some sort of gift."
That couldn't be true. Connor had said…No. Forget what he said. Forget all about him. My life was about moving forward now.
"Well, I think you're lucky. You'll fit in fine here," I said.
His chocolate brown eyes softened. That sensation came over me again, from when he kissed me the skatepark, like there was a storm slowly brewing between us.
"What about you? You as gifted as they say?" he asked.
I lifted a shoulder. "I can do a few things." I slipped off my magnetic bracelets. The shop and The Cave were safe for now, so I let my aura trail along the cooler to the blender. I telekinetically turned it on. I did a swirly thing with my finger and turned it off.
Jaxon's cheek twitched. "You can manipulate on-off buttons. That's what everyone was so excited about?" He faked a yawn, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"I'm just warming up," I said.
A display basket on the counter was loaded with bananas, peaches, and apples. An apple launched itself into my hand.
"For you." I offered, but when he reached for it, I pulled back. "Nah-ah. Wait." I balanced the apple on my palm and levitated it until it was directly between us.
"Take a bite," I said.
He gave me an inquisitive grin. As he leaned in with his mouth open, I did the same on the other side. Our mouths pressed into the firm skin and we each sunk our teeth into the apple's flesh, taking a full bite. The fruit dropped to the counter. Juice ran down the corner of his mouth. I wiped it away with my thumb. He chewed slowly and swallowed hard.
"I have a couple of theories about you," he said.
"Yeah?"
"One. I still don't think you're as talented as they say. And two, I don't think you're as angelic as you let on."
"You're right, but only on one count," I replied.
"Which one?"
"Guess you'll have to figure it out," I challenged, surprised at my boldness.
"I look forward to it." Jaxon pinned his eyes on mine, took another bite of the apple, and walked out of the shop.
Chapter 14
I had hardly any customers the rest of the night, leaving me plenty of time to obsess about the kids I'd seen at The Asylum. I was mad they'd crashed into Becca's car. Madder still that they had so easily and boldly come after me like easy prey, right out in public.
When I obsessed, I went all out: my nails got bitten down to the bed, my knuckles turned red from wringing, my mind went ballistic in a million directions at once. When my shift ended at nine o'clock, I called Kimber. "I'll take the bus," I told her. "You can stay late at the Rose Club." I headed for the bus stop two blocks away.
By the time the number fourteen picked me up, I was freezing my butt off. I stuffed my hands inside my coat to warm them and watched the downtown city lights disappear behind me.
I rode across the river to the warehouse district and got off a few blocks from The Asylum. The surrounding businesses were busy loading and unloading delivery trucks twenty-four seven, but that didn't make the dark streets any more enticing. I jogged the rest of the way to the skatepark.
The sign outside The Asylum said they closed at nine on Sundays, but the door hung open. Cracks webbed across the glass door. A blackness that I could feel but not see scraped down the back of my neck. I froze.
They were here. They were right inside. I backed away slowly and prepared to full out sprint out of there.
A masculine voice, unnaturally squeaky, called from inside. "Is anybody out there? Um…help?"
The voice was non-threatening. I listened closely and didn't hear anyone else poking around. I crept inside. Skater clothing lay everywhere. Helmets, knee pads, shoes, and skateboard parts littered the space. It was as if someone had tipped the entire gear store upside down and emptied it over the rest of the shop.
"Oh wow. Oh man. It's you," that same voice came from behind the counter. Tugg was suspended halfway up the concrete wall, hanging by the back of his shirt.
My eyes bugged. "What the…"
"Don't just stand there. Get me a chair." His arms and legs flailed as he tried to shake himself loose.
I hauled a stool over from the concession stand. Tugg balanced on it and unhooked himself. When he lowered next to me, I was reminded of his massive size. I was afraid to ask who had hoisted him off the floor, but Mutila energy cut through the air like daggers. It wasn't hard to guess.
"Are they gone?" I asked. "Whoever did this, I mean."
He glared at me and swore. "Out. I don't want you here. Go." His knees shook. He planted a hand on my back and shoved me toward the door.
"Wait, I have to talk to you."
"Forget it. Don't ever come here again, and you were never here. Got it? I know nothing."
"I'm not going anywhere." I turned to face him, and he skittered backward with his hands raised between us. Given his size, I found it more than a little disturbing that he was afraid of me. "I get it," I said calmly, "you're wigged out, but I need you to think back to the night I was here with my friend Becca. Remember?"
He squeezed his eyes tight. "Yeah."
"There were three kids here that night." I described the girl and the two guys, and Tugg shook his head violently.
"No, I don't know anything. Now get out…" Movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him. If it were possible, he turned a lighter shade of gray. "What the—"
I followed his gaze to the skating bowl. All the store's skateboards, dozens of them, cruised across the concrete as if ridden by ghosts. They skidded on the bowl's lip, launched up the quarter pipe, jumped over each other.
"Whoa," I said.
Tugg babbled nonsensically and his legs went limp. He put his head between his knees.
Secretly, this was the kind of thing that upset me the most, seeing a normal person's reaction to paranormal occurrences. It reminded me how much of a freak I was.
I rested a hand on Tugg's shoulder. "Tell me what happened here tonight."
He shook his head. "Too crazy. Too crazy."
Frightened people often refused to talk, even when it was in their best interest. I saw this all the time when my dad and I lived in a crime-ridden neighborhood south of Seattle. Our neighbors witnessed the worst of human behavior, but when the police came around asking questions, they clammed right up.
I went to the edge of the bowl and jumped in. I kicked one of the boards, sending it flying across the cement. That was enough to sever the phantom thread that kept the whole lot of them moving. All the skateboards rolled to th
e center and stopped.
Tugg watched me, wide-eyed, like I was his personal superhero.
"What happened here tonight?" I asked again.
"Two of them came in. The skinny guy and the red-haired girl. She moved things without touching them," he stuttered and motioned to the mess of clothing and gear, "and she was standing over there and she lifted me off the floor like, like," he made an upward motion with his finger. "And voop, she hung me right up on the wall."
"Why?"
He hesitated. "Because I wouldn't give them your name."
They had remembered me after all. My head swam and, much like the night I was drunk, the graffiti walls blended together. I joined him on the floor.
"You know them?" he asked.
I wheezed a couple of deep breaths. "Did you tell them my name?"
"I didn't remember it."
"Okay," I wheezed. "Okay. That's good."
"Who are they?"
"That's what I came to ask you. Do they come here a lot?" I asked.
"Just a few times."
"Do you know their names?"
He clamped his jaw down tight, undecided. Gave me a once-over. Decided I was worth helping.
"The skinny guy called the girl Luma. She's the one who did all the damage. That's all I know, and you did not hear it from me, got that?" He lurched to his feet. "I'm quitting this job. If they come back, I'm not going to be here. I don't even skateboard, I just show up for the girls."
Tugg closed the shop and drove me home. "I wouldn't have told them your name, even if I could remember it," he said when he pulled in front of my house. "I'd never do that to an innocent girl. This Luma chick, though…she's evil."
A shudder ran down my neck. "Thanks, Tugg."
"Yeah. See you around."
I was betting I'd never hear from him again.
********
Becca's car was back from the repair shop, and Kimber let me ride to school with her.
"How much longer until you get your keys back?" Becca asked.
"The last time I asked, my dad said when pigs fly and dinosaurs pop out of his butt."
"Gross."
"Yeah, well, he got his point across. I'll be hitching rides until college."
We rode the rest of the way in silence, my mind still wrapping around what I'd seen the night before. The damage at The Asylum meant the Mutila kids were trained in Coercion and Destruction. It had frightened me, seeing firsthand what they were capable of.
Once we got to school, Jaxon was impossible to find. Since he was new, the office had allowed him to switch out of my chemistry class because he wanted to take woodworking, of all things. I finally found him during lunch, leaning against a locker outside the biology labs, circled by—you guessed it—a group of underclass girls.
The girls stretched their bubblegum with their tongues, watching him like they fantasized about the secrets he held beneath his coarse exterior. Anyone spending time with him saw the restless storm that raged below the surface. Girls liked to crack that barricade. I guessed they relished the challenge of making a seemingly untouchable guy lust after them. It validated their power.
He broke out of the circle to join me, earning me a few dirty looks.
I wondered what was happening between me and Jaxon. We'd had a couple of hot moments, and I liked the pleasure part of our relationship more than the information-gathering part. Flirting was fun, but I was ready to take things to the next level.
I nodded toward the girls. "Aren't they cute. In a few more years, they'll be old enough to drive." I didn't like notion that I was competing for his attention.
"And they'll be way more experienced." His eyes did that quick body scan that boys do but think girls never notice.
"Why do I get the impression you're picturing me naked?" I asked.
"I'm always picturing you naked."
"Oh." My cheeks warmed.
"That's what guys do. We picture everyone naked."
"Everyone? Talk about a lack of self-control."
"Yup. Teachers, other kids' parents, even other guys. If we're competing against a guy, picturing them naked gives us an edge."
"Eww." Picturing my teachers naked was the last thing I'd ever do.
"God, you're gullible. I'm beginning to think you are a clueless little angel after all. No, I don't think about guys. You, though, take up a lot of space in my head."
"I've been thinking about you a lot, too." I gave him my flirtiest look—a mysterious smile with half-mast lids.
"You look sleepy," he said.
Not what I was going for, but he stepped in close and ran his thumb across my collarbone. My neck tingled.
"I got more information about the kids at the skatepark," he said.
"Me too. After work I went…"
He didn't wait for me to finish. He turned on his heels and walked through the outside door.
Chapter 15
"Wait—where are you going?" I caught up to Jaxon in the parking lot. He pulled out a set of keys and beeped the lock open on an older model Jeep.
"Don't tell me you've got one of the Mutila tied up in your backseat," I joked.
"Wish I did. I'd like to know what would happen if you had to face off against one of them. I'd like to bet my money on you." He pursed his lips, seemed to evaluate me.
"You're asking who I'd bet on? Not going there. Especially not after what I saw at The Asylum last night."
"You went back?" He leaned inside and emerged with an English text for his next class. I recapped my trip to the skatepark.
"Luma. Interesting name," he said. "I don't recognize it from my old neighborhood."
"I think she's a Coercion Agent, or a Destruction Agent."
He squinted one eye in a silent question.
"I've been doing my own digging." I explained the different agents to him. "What did you find out?"
"Remember the one kid who looked like he could stop a Greyhound bus in its tracks? His name is Roth. He was driving the SUV that hit Becca."
"Did you get his license number?" I asked.
"Nope."
"How did you find this out?"
"I described him to the guy I know from my neighborhood. Unfortunately, he never knew Roth's last name," Jaxon said.
I threw up my hands. "So we've established that a steroid-eating skateboarder into coercion is probably the one who hit us, and his crazy red-haired sidekick trashes places and threatens people. No last names. No license plate number, and I still don't know anything about the girl who was going to jump to her death."
"Pardon me for not whipping up a miracle."
"I'm sorry. I'm frustrated."
"You're the one with all the abilities," he said, his tone short. "Try going into a trance and see if you can psychically conjure up a license plate number."
"If that was on my playlist, don't you think I would have done it by now?"
He lifted a shoulder. "I'm sticking by my original theory, that you're a semi-talented angel."
This steamed me. Just because I wasn't letting him in on the fine points of my abilities didn't give him the right to insult me. I sucked in my cheeks and swung my eyes across the parking lot. The bell signaling the start of next period rang, meaning we were alone.
Jaxon swore. "I'm late for class."
"Well, you're going to be later," I said. When my pride got the best of me, I was inclined to do stupid things, and I felt a moment of poor judgment coming on strong.
I slid off my bracelets and set them on the asphalt. Then I raised my hands waist high, concentrating all my energy, and aimed them at Jaxon's ride. His Jeep shook.
"Uh, what are you doing?" he asked.
"Shh." I clenched my jaw. Come on, float, darn it. I'd watched Connor do this same trick to Raquelle's car. He'd made it look ridiculously easy. I, however, was about to crack a molar if I clenched my teeth any harder.
The tires lifted off the asphalt.
"Cool, huh?" I twisted my mouth in a cocky smile, and t
ried to push the Jeep over the curb. "I'm not as innocent as you think," I said, struggling to keep my magic act going.
He grinned ear to ear.
A loud crack shot through the air. The Jeep fell back into its spot. Its bumper snapped off and clattered to the blacktop.
"Oops," I grimaced.
"What did you do?" His palms aimed at the sky. "You broke my Jeep."
He picked up the bumper and dumped it onto the backseat. "I was thinking of asking you out, but I guess I'll be spending that money at the body shop."
"Sorry," I said instinctively. Wait. No I wasn't. "That's my devil side acting out. You never know what you're going to get with me, but I guess you're not into bad girls after all."
I was as surprised as anybody to hear myself say this. On top of that, I'd used my ability in public, which could get me in huge trouble. This time jumping bad boy brought out a side of me I'd never seen.
I headed for the school doors. After a few steps, I glanced over my shoulder. Jaxon's lip curled into that smirk, heat smoldering in his eyes. The look was so palpable, it crept through my aura and pressed my skin all over, like a hot, humid night. I allowed him a smile and forced myself not to look back again.
After Trigonometry started, I hid my phone under my desk and sent him a text.
I would have said yes, I said.
Ms. Fullner's lecture went in one ear and out the other while I waited for Jaxon's response. My phone didn't beep, not even once.
Later that afternoon, he met me at my locker. "So, what do twenty-first century girls like to do on dates?" he asked.
I was gathering overdue homework for my next class but stopped long enough to acknowledge that his thigh leaned against my hip.
"I like going to movies. You?"
"Don't know. Haven't been to one in this time zone."
"It's fun. You get buckets of popcorn and gigantic sodas and sit in the dark for two hours."
"Sounds like a perfect place to make out."
My stomach did a flip. "Um, yeah, I guess some kids go and never watch the movie."
"You seem like the type who never misses a minute of any movie." A sly smile curved his mouth. "Are you sure you want to go out with me? I could be very bad for your reputation."
