The Astral Traveler's Daughter

by K. C. Archer

  Jillian and Eli were sitting in a small unfamiliar apartment, and she saw Eli holding a brochure for a company called Hyle Pharmaceuticals. Teddy could make out only snippets of the conversation: Eli telling Jillian that because of the cruel experiments they performed on animals, Hyle Pharmaceuticals was their next target. We have to stop them. We’ll do whatever it takes, Eli said. Jillian nodded. Whatever it takes.

  Startled, Teddy dropped the bracelet and looked at her friend. She knew Jillian was in deep, but whatever it takes? This didn’t feel right.

  “Well?” Dunn asked. “What did you see?”

  Teddy turned to find everyone in the room watching her expectantly. “Uh . . . the object was Jillian’s,” she said, then concocted a quick lie. “A past memory with Fred, her pet hamster. From when she was sick.”

  Jillian tsked and shook her head. “She’s not a pet, she’s a friend.”

  “A hamster,” Boyd said, shaking her head, clearly unimpressed. Dunn moved on to the next student.

  Teddy flushed. Had she blown her chance for FBI track already? Should she have reported what she’d seen? It had been only a conversation, after all. It wasn’t like she’d seen them doing anything wrong. But it did sound ominous. Teddy cast a look at Jillian, who avoided her eye. Teddy refocused her attention on the classroom. Her necklace was still in that bag. She cringed at the thought of someone like Kate pulling the pendant from the sack and identifying it as hers.

  So she was both relieved and disappointed when Pyro was the one to draw her object out. Obviously, he recognized it as the necklace Yates had given her. But Pyro himself had said that his power probably wouldn’t be useful in any psychometric practice. Teddy bit the inside of her lip, hoping that if he got any information about her mother, he would have the sense to lie in front of the class, as she had done for Jillian.

  She didn’t have to worry for long, because just moments after wrapping the necklace in his hands, he began to cough, then wiped his eyes. He dropped the necklace, cast a quick glance at Teddy, and then looked at Dunn. “Sorry,” he said. “I think there was smoke—like a chimney fire? I’m not really sure.”

  A chime signaled the end of the lecture. “We’ll continue this next time,” Dunn called. “Keep fine-tuning your skills.”

  Teddy stood, hoping to catch Jillian so they could talk about her memory. But Jillian had already grabbed her things and ducked out of the room. Pyro caught up to her in the hall.

  “If this is about Nick,” she said, “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “It’s not.” He grabbed her arm and steered her into an empty classroom. “I saw something.”

  He’d seen something when he held the necklace? She braced herself and said, “Tell me.”

  “Well, not saw, smelled.” He hesitated, as though trying to find the precise words to convey his impression. “Smoke. And almonds.”

  “Almonds?” Not exactly the answer she expected to hear.

  “I know you’re not going to want to hear this, Teddy, but I smelled almonds. That means what I reacted to wasn’t a regular fire. It was a bomb.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “C-4 is an explosive that smells like almonds. Whoever was wearing that necklace was directly involved in a bombing.”

  Teddy cocked her head, confused. Why did he think this information would be difficult for her? “Pyro, we were all just in Sector Three,” she said. “My mother was there years ago. It exploded, remember?”

  “That wasn’t a C-4 bomb,” Pyro said. “We don’t know what exactly happened at Sector Three. But when I held that necklace? That was C-4. Your mother was involved in setting off an IED.”

  Teddy’s stomach began to churn. Echoes of the conversation she’d had yesterday with Clint flooded her mind. The photo of Marysue striding past the New York City office building seconds before a bomb went off. And now Pyro was condemning her. Claiming that since Marysue’s necklace had triggered the scent of C-4 in his mind, she was directly involved in setting off an IED. A huge leap. A smell wasn’t conclusive. And even if they could prove that Marysue had been present at the bombing, no one knew why her mother had been there. What her role had been. And until she had those answers, Teddy wasn’t going to stop digging.

  Draw the emotions to you, Dunn had said. Teddy Cannon wasn’t usually the type to do emotions. She preferred to hide behind the familiar defenses of snark and sarcasm. But at night, in those unguarded moments when she’d dreamed of the yellow house, she had felt love and loss, coupled with a strong dose of longing and regret. Maybe even a tinge of anger. Emotions that had frightened her as a small child, for they were hopelessly beyond her understanding. Maybe they still were. But they’d made a strong impression. Teddy felt like she knew her mother, understood her in a way that Pyro and Clint never could.

  “I’m sorry, Teddy,” Pyro said. “But you need to face the facts. Your mother’s an active member of the PC.”

  “You’re wrong,” Teddy countered defiantly.

  She turned and walked away. The woman she’d met in her dreams never would have willingly committed those crimes. And Teddy was going to prove it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “FALL IN!” ROSEMARY BOYD CALLED.

  Their first week as sophomores ended with a course in tactical training led by Boyd, the school’s sadist in chief. She sent them on warm-up laps around the gym, followed by a turn on the brutal indoor obstacle course they had mastered last year. That meant vaulting over a goalpost barrier, scaling up a wall and rappelling down, scrambling under obstacles on their belly, traversing a wobbly beam without falling, swinging from a ten-foot-high monkey bar using hand-over-hand strength, and flying through the air on a rope. No matter how hard they worked or how well they did, Boyd berated them for getting soft and lazy over the summer.

  When the course finally ended, Teddy headed for the locker room, drenched and smelling like the fermented tofu that had been on the menu for lunch. After washing away the evidence of Boyd’s socially acceptable BDSM tendencies in a twenty-minute shower, Teddy threw on a pair of Whitfield-issued sweatpants and a clean tee and made her way to Harris Hall.

  “Hey!” Dara called out to Teddy as she was leaving the gym. “Everyone’s going to the Cantina after dinner to celebrate surviving the first week. You in?”

  “Absolutely,” Teddy called back.

  Back in the dorm room, Teddy waited for Jillian, but she never showed up. So Teddy headed out to the Cantina with Pyro and Dara. When they got there, they discovered that Jillian and Eli had beat them to it, snagging the best table on the deck, overlooking the beach.

  “Should we respect their privacy?” Dara asked.

  “Hell, no,” Teddy said, and they scraped some chairs over and joined the two lovebirds, putting in a quick order for drinks.

  “Why don’t you have a seat,” Jillian said sarcastically after Dara, Teddy, and Pyro had settled in. A waitress brought over a pitcher of margaritas with some chips and salsa. Teddy stirred her drink as she watched the setting sun turn the sky a blazing pink. A breeze cooled her skin. For a change, the music from the Cantina wasn’t an annoying pop song. Instead, the soft rhythm of steel drums echoed around them. It was the perfect end to the day except for one thing.

  Eli Nevin.

  The presence of Jillian’s cargo-shorts-wearing, cause-committed, conversation-monopolizing boyfriend meant they couldn’t talk about anything that was happening at Whitfield. Except he wasn’t wearing cargo shorts tonight. He was wearing harem pants. Could Jillian please take him shopping? And he didn’t seem to be interested in discussing anything that didn’t directly involve him.

  “We’re going to stop corporate animal testing once and for all,” he said, concluding—please, God—his ten-minute rant. “Cruelty-free product development is the way of the future. Trust me.”

  “Dude, no one is doubting you,” Dara said, sighing.

  “Animals are dying,” he continued, as though Dara hadn’t spoken. “And for what? To hel
p the profiteers skip to the front of the line with the FDA? So companies like Hyle Pharmaceuticals can get their overpriced drugs to market faster?”

  At the mention of Hyle Pharmaceuticals, Teddy sat up straighter. The psychometric insight she’d gained when holding Jillian’s bracelet leaped to the front of her thoughts. She hadn’t had a chance to ask Jillian about what she’d seen. Granted, this wasn’t the ideal place for it, but if she framed her words carefully . . .

  “Jillian, how do you feel about what’s happening at Hyle?”

  “I think it’s morally, ethically, and legally wrong. Animal rights are being stripped away, and for what?”

  “Animal rights? Sure. I mean, no one wants—”

  Jillian interrupted. “Fine, go ahead, minimize it. That’s exactly what I’d expect from you, Teddy.”

  Teddy stared at her friend, stung by the contempt in her voice. “Wait. I only meant—”

  “Animals are being tortured,” she said. “Every day. While we sit here, drinking margaritas. We should be willing to do whatever it takes to protect them. I know I am.”

  “Whatever it takes?” Teddy said. The phrase she’d heard Jillian use in the memory. Despite the warmth of the evening, a cold chill shot down her spine. “Jillian, what does that even mean? What are you planning to do?”

  “Like Eli said. Whatever it takes to stop animal testing.” Jillian lifted her chin and squared her shoulders as if daring Teddy to challenge her. “That’s what we’re going to do.”

  Teddy shook her head, not quite believing what she was hearing. “Look, I get it. The protection of animals is important to you. But peaceful protests are one thing. Breaking the law is another.”

  “You’re one to talk. After breaking in to the FBI building last year and stealing that—”

  “Jillian!” Teddy interrupted, horrified that her friend would spill such a deep secret in front of Eli. As far as he knew, they were all a bunch of law enforcement recruits.

  “I’m just saying you’re being a bit hypocritical,” Jillian said.

  Pyro leaned forward and spoke directly to Eli: “Let me ask you something.” Teddy knew from his tone that he’d had enough of the Jillian and Eli show. “You have any little kids in your life? A niece or nephew or something?”

  “My brother has an eighteen-month-old daughter.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Riley.”

  “Riley,” Pyro repeated. “Cute. Now I want you to try to imagine how you might feel about animal testing if there were a new drug that could save Riley from a fatal disease, and a couple of lab rats had to be sacrificed to develop it. Would you be okay with that?”

  Eli snorted in response. “There are ways to test drugs without torturing animals,” he insisted. “That’s why I started HEAT in the first place.”

  “I’m just saying it might be worth sacrificing a rodent or two if it meant saving someone’s baby, you know?”

  “That’s a bit a species-ist,” Jillian said to Pyro. “Who are we to decide which lives and dies?”

  Pyro shrugged. “Guilty as charged. With the exception of a few politicians, I think most humans are superior to rats.”

  “A joke? You think this is funny?”

  “Jillian, relax, Pyro was just—”

  “They’re testing their new drugs on dogs,” Eli interrupted, “man’s best friend, right? The one animal on the planet that has the greatest emotional connection to human beings. So much so that some owners claim their dogs have an actual sixth sense. Don’t you think we have a duty to protect the creatures we share this earth with?”

  Pyro drained his margarita and leaned back in his chair. “Whatever, man. Just keep talking. Seems to be what you’re good at.”

  Teddy was aware of the other patrons in the Cantina laughing and having a good time while she flicked salt from the rim of her glass. Dara averted her gaze and toyed with the empty chip basket.

  Jillian shoved back her chair and stood. “Don’t we have to get to San Francisco?” she asked Eli. “The ferry will be here any minute.”

  Teddy was about to object when she remembered that they were second-years and allowed off the island without permission—provided they returned by curfew, which, on Friday, meant midnight. Teddy wondered if she should remind Jillian. But her friend already looked so pissed that Teddy kept her mouth shut as Jillian and Eli said goodbye and headed off toward the ferry.

  “That went well,” Dara said wryly.

  As Teddy watched them go, she couldn’t help but think about another friend she’d failed: Molly. Jeremy had been there at every turn, taking her down an increasingly dark road toward whatever-it-takes-ville. She couldn’t let Jillian follow that same path. “I should have stopped her,” she said.

  Dara took another sip of her drink. “She’s a grown woman.”

  “She has such awful judgment when it comes to Eli, though. He’s talking her into things that could ruin her career.”

  “She’s got a right to make her own mistakes,” Pyro said. Then he looked at Teddy. “Besides, how do you know what he’s talking her into doing?”

  Teddy slumped back, deflated. “It’s just . . . I’m worried. When I held Jillian’s bracelet, I saw her and Eli discussing Hyle Pharmaceuticals. They said they were going to do whatever it takes to stop animal testing.”

  Pyro raised an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”

  “It’s different,” Teddy snapped, knowing Pyro was thinking of his own glimpse of Teddy’s mother and the C-4 bomb. “Eli and Jillian were discussing an attack. We have more information, more context.”

  “An attack?” Dara prompted. “Did they say attack?”

  “Well, no, but they said they’d do whatever it takes to stop animal testing.”

  “Which could mean organizing a boycott. Or writing letters. Or starting a Facebook page.” Dara frowned. “We can’t go around accusing people of crimes they haven’t committed. We’re getting into some real Minority Report shit if you open that can of worms.”

  Teddy pulled at the edge of the paper napkin under her drink. She watched the paper fibers dissolve in the condensation. “So what now?”

  Dara blotted her mouth with a napkin and stood. “Nothing. I’m beat. Ava snores, and I need to get to sleep before she does. You coming?”

  Before Teddy could reply, Pyro tucked his hand around her back. He found the bare slip of skin between her T-shirt and jeans, his fingers drawing lazy circles of heat. A gesture that belonged outside the lines of the friend zone they’d established. Another pass of his hand, and Teddy felt herself unwillingly relax into his touch. After the emotional toll of their first week at Whitfield, she didn’t want to pull away. It felt good. Crazy good, considering she kind of wanted to both punch and jump the person who was touching her.

  “I think I’ll stay a little longer,” she said.

  Dara looked between the two of them. “Whatever, you two. Good night,” she said, then walked off in the direction of the campus.

  Teddy leaned in to Pyro; if they were going to do this, they needed rules. And they needed to clear the air. “Feel like heading down to the beach?” she said.

  “Good idea.”

  He tossed a couple twenties on the table, then grabbed her hand and led her toward the pier. They took off their shoes and walked along the water’s edge. Teddy, for once, let herself be led. The sand was cool beneath her feet, and the lap of gentle waves against the shore was the most soothing sound she could imagine. She’d suggested a walk on the beach so they could talk. But her good intentions faded as she felt that familiar attraction spark between them. Pyro moved closer. Her alarm bells sounded.

  She ignored them.

  The moment stretched. Her gaze locked on Pyro’s. The question of a kiss rose between them. No, not a question. An inevitability.

  That mysterious pull that seemed to always hover between them was even more present. When he leaned in to kiss her, Teddy gave herself permission to lace her hands around his neck. So
on it became one of those feels-too-good-to-stop moments, fueled by margaritas and overwhelming, why-fight-it chemistry. She pulled him closer. Granted, she might regret it in the morning, but right then, regret was not an emotion she struggled with.

  She melted in to him. She traced her hands across his shoulders, then drew her palms down flat against his chest, thrilling at the erratic beat of his heart.

  She was ready to lose herself, but Pyro misunderstood—perhaps thinking she meant to push him away—and drew back slightly, breaking their kiss.

  “Teddy?” His dark eyes searched hers. He stepped away from her, his posture stiff. “It’s about Dunn’s class, isn’t it? The stuff I picked up when I held your mother’s necklace.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re pissed at me for telling you the truth about your mother.”

  What?

  Her brain took a moment to catch up.

  The truth? His version of it, more like.

  Anger flashed through Teddy. Reining it in, she kept her tone firm and reasonable. Eventually, she’d prove him wrong, but this wasn’t the time or the place for that discussion. “Look,” she said, “I’m glad you told me. Don’t ever hold anything back because you think I can’t handle it, okay?”

  He studied her. “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  He seemed to accept her reply, but as she thought about what he had said, it was clear that whatever had been between them had cooled. That was what had felt so perfect about Pyro. The not thinking. Just allowing herself to be swept away. She turned and looked toward campus.

  “We should head back.”

  “Already?”

  She took a breath. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just like I said in that diner in Jackpot. I don’t think I can do this right now. There’s just too much going on. I have to concentrate on what’s important.”