Dark Visions

by L. J. Smith

  She reached into her duffel bag and pulled out Marisol's sunglasses. Put them on, flicked back her hair.

  Now I'm ready.

  Gabriel glanced at her. "Those new?"

  "Well, I don't figure Marisol needs them anymore." She saw him raise his eyebrows at her new hardheartedness.

  The Institute was purple. Well, of course she remembered that, but it was still a shock to see how truly purple it was. A wild thrill of homesickness ran through her.

  "Come on," Gabriel said, and led her to the door. It was locked. He rattled in exasperation.

  "I forgot the key-"

  "What about your new talent for breaking and entering?"

  But the door opened. Joyce was standing there, her short blond hair slick and wet. She was wearing a pink sweater and leggings.

  As always, an aura of energy surrounded her, as if she might suddenly spring into action at any moment.

  Her aquamarine eyes were sparkling with life.

  "Gabriel, where have-" She broke off, her eyes widening. She'd seen Kaitlyn.

  For a moment they just stood and looked at each other. Under her cool exterior, Kaitlyn's heart was pounding. She had to convince Joyce, she had to. But she could feel the waves of suspicion radiating from the blond woman.

  Once, Joyce had fooled her, had fooled all of them.

  Now it was Kaitlyn's turn. Kait felt just like one of those Federal agents infiltrating the Mafia.

  And you know what they do to them, she thought.

  "Joyce-" she began, making her voice gentle and persuasive.

  Joyce didn't even glance at her. "Gabriel," she said in a grating whisper, "get her the hell out of here."

  CHAPTER 5

  Kaitlyn stared at Joyce in dismay. There was a buzzing in her ears, and she couldn't speak.

  Gabriel saved her. "Wait until you hear what she has to say."

  Joyce glanced from one of them to the other. Finally she said, "Did you get the crystal shard?"

  "I couldn't find it," Gabriel answered without any discernible pause. "They have it hidden someplace else.

  But what difference does it make?"

  "What dif- " Joyce clamped her lips together and threw a glance behind her, as if worried she'd be overheard. "The difference is that he's going to be here tonight, wanting it."

  "Look, are you going to let us in or not?"

  Joyce let out a stifled breath, turned her gem-hard eyes on Kaitlyn again. She gazed for a long moment, then she abruptly reached out and snatched the sunglasses from Kaitlyn's face. Kait was startled but wouldn't show it; she returned the aquamarine gaze steadily.

  "All right," Joyce said at last. "Come in. But this had better be good."

  "It's good if you want another clairvoyant," Gabriel said once they were in the living room. "You know Frost isn't very good."

  Joyce sat down, one trim pink leg crossed over the other. "You've got to be kidding," she said shortly.

  "I want to join you," Kaitlyn said. The buzzing was gone from her ears; she could speak in cool, nonchalant tones.

  "I'm sure!" Joyce said. Her tone was sarcastic.

  "Would I bring her here if it wasn't true?" Gabriel asked. He flashed one of his brilliant, unsettling smiles.

  Before Joyce could reply he added, "I've looked into her mind. She's sincere. So why don't we just cut the bull? I'm hungry."

  "Why would she want to join us?" Joyce demanded. She looked shaken by Gabriel's conviction.

  Kaitlyn went through her speech about believing Mr. Z's theories about psychics and supreme power.

  She was getting good at it by now. And, she was finding, it was fairly easy to sell it to people who wanted power themselves. It was a motivation they could understand.

  At the end of the oration Joyce bit her lip. "I don't know. What about the others? Your friends."

  "What about them?" Kaitlyn said coldly.

  "You were involved with Rob Kessler. Don't deny it."

  Kaitlyn could feel Gabriel waiting for the answer, too. "We broke up," she said. She wished, suddenly, that she had thought more about this part of the story. "I was interested in Gabriel and that made him furious. Besides," she added with happy inspiration, "he likes Anna."

  She had no idea what made her say it, but it had an unexpected effect on both Joyce and Gabriel.

  Joyce's eyebrows went up, but some of the tightness went out of her mouth. Gabriel hissed in a sharp breath-like someone about to say, I knew it all the time.

  Kaitlyn was startled. She hadn't meant that. Rob had never given any sign-and neither had Anna-or at least she didn't think so. ...

  And she couldn't think about it now. She had to stay firmly in the moment. She fixed her eyes on Joyce, who was looking torn.

  "Look," Kait said. "This is straight up. I wouldn't come here if I wasn't serious-I wouldn't put my dad in that much danger." She held Joyce's gaze. "Because you guys can do things to him, right? I wouldn't risk that." In fact, it wasn't something she had realized until a little while ago. Mr. Z's psychics could attack over any distance, and if they found out the truth about Kait, he'd be an obvious target. Now it was too late to turn back-the only way to protect her dad was to make her act good.

  "Hmm. But you went all the way to Canada to fight us."

  "Sure. I went to the Fellowship and found it was a crock. They can't even help themselves, much less anyone else. And-it's not that I don't care about Rob and the others anymore, but I can't stick with them when they're going to lose. I want to be on the winning side."

  "You and Lydia," Joyce said, grimly amused. It was another hit; Kait could tell. "Well, if nothing else I suppose we can use you as a hostage," Joyce murmured.

  "In that case, can we get some breakfast?" Gabriel asked, not waiting to see what Kaitlyn's reaction would be.

  "Right," Joyce said briefly, handing Kaitlyn the sunglasses. "Nobody else is up yet. Get it yourselves."

  A little different from the cheerful-homemaker attitude you had before, Kaitlyn thought, not bothering to shield it from Gabriel. He grinned.

  The kitchen was different. Dirty, for one thing; there were dishes in the sink and Coke cans spilling out of the wastebasket. A cardboard box full of sloppily shut take-out containers was on the counter.

  Chinese food, Kaitlyn saw. Joyce never let us have take-out Chinese. And those boxes of Frosted Flakes and Captain Crunch in the pantry-what had happened to Joyce's health food kick? An act?

  "I told you she wasn't exactly running things anymore," Gabriel said under his breath, slanting a quirky glance at her.

  Oh. Kaitlyn shrugged and poured herself a bowl of Captain Crunch.

  When they were finished eating, Joyce said, "Right, go upstairs and get yourself cleaned up. You can go in Lydia's room for now-then we'll see about further arrangements when he comes tonight."

  Kaitlyn was surprised. "Lydia's living here?"

  "I told you," Gabriel said. "Under her father's thumb."

  As she and Gabriel reached the landing, Kait said, "Which room do you have now?"

  "The same as before." He indicated the best room in the house, the big one that had cable hookup and a balcony. Then he gave her an evil glance. "Want to share it with me? You can use the Jacuzzi. And the king-size bed."

  "I think Joyce would put her foot down about that," Kaitlyn said.

  She didn't know which room was Lydia's, but she knocked lightly on the door of the room she used to share with Anna. Then she looked in.

  Lydia, small in an oversize T-shirt, was just getting out of bed. She saw Kaitlyn and squeaked. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for an exit, then she took a sideways step toward the bathroom door.

  Kaitlyn chuckled. In a way, it was a relief to see someone more scared than she was. "What's the hurry?"

  she said, feeling lazy and dangerous. Like Gabriel.

  Lydia seemed to be paralyzed. She wriggled a little, like a worm on a hook, then she blurted, "He made me do it. I didn't want to leave you in Canada."
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  "Oh, Lydia, you're such a liar. You did it for the same reason I did. You wanted to be on the winning side."

  Lydia's cat-tilted green eyes opened even wider. She was a pretty little thing, with a pale and delicate face and a heavy shock of black hair. Or she would have been pretty if she hadn't always looked so guilty and slinking, Kait thought.

  "The same reason you did?" Lydia breathed. "You mean-Father brought you here-?"

  "I came on my own, to join you guys," Kaitlyn said firmly. "Joyce said I could share this room." She swung her duffel bag over the twin bed that wasn't rumpled, and dropped it with a thump.

  She'd expected Lydia to look awed or understanding. Instead, Lydia looked as if she thought Kait was crazy.

  "You came on your own ..." Then she stopped and shook her head. "Well, you're right about one thing,"

  she said. "My father is going to win. He always wins." She looked away, lip curling.

  Kaitlyn eyed her thoughtfully. "Lydia, how come you're at the Institute? You're not psychic-are you?"

  Lydia shrugged vaguely. "My father wanted me here. So Joyce could watch me, I think."

  And you didn't really answer the question, Kaitlyn thought. Gabriel had said that if Kait had picked up the red-haired man's thoughts, either she or the red-haired man must be slightly telepathic. But Kaitlyn had been able to tell how Joyce felt about her, and now she was getting strong feelings from Lydia. It wasn't that she could tell exactly what they were thinking; more that she could get a sense of their general mood.

  So I'm a telepath? It was a weird and unsettling thought. Telepathy in the web didn't count; Gabriel had hooked them together. But to sense other people's feelings was something new.

  Like just now she could tell that Lydia had a lot on her mind-which meant she might be induced to talk.

  "So what's it like around here?" Kaitlyn asked casually.

  Lydia's lip curled farther, but she just shrugged again and said, "Have you met the others?"

  "No. Well, I mean, I've seen their astral forms before, on the way to Canada."

  "You'll probably like those better than their real forms."

  "Well, why don't you introduce me?" Kait suggested. She wasn't really as interested in the dark psychics as in the routine around here-something that might give her an idea where Mr. Z kept the crystal. But any information would be helpful, and she figured it was better to be aggressive in meeting Mr. Z's new students. She didn't want them to think she was afraid of them.

  "You want to see them?" Lydia was afraid of them.

  "Yeah, come on, show me the psychic psychos." Kaitlyn kept her tone light and was rewarded with a faint, admiring grin. "Let's tour the zoo."

  In the hallway, they nearly ran into Joyce. She glanced at them and then knocked briskly at the door of what had once been the common room for Kait's group. Without waiting for an answer, she threw the door open.

  "Everybody up! Renny, you have to get to school; Mac, we start testing in ten minutes. If you want any breakfast, you'd better move it."

  She moved on, to yell at another door. "Bri! School! Frost! Testing!"

  Kaitlyn, with a clear view of the first room, had to keep herself from gasping.

  Oh, my God, I don't believe it.

  The room was now a bedroom-sort of. Like a bedroom from a flophouse, Kaitlyn thought. No, worse.

  Like a bedroom from one of those abandoned buildings you see on the news. Across one wall the words

  "NO FEAR" were spray-painted. Spray-painted. Most of the curtains were down and one of the windows in the alcove was broken. There was a large hole in the plaster of one wall and another in the door.

  And the room was filthy. It wasn't just the motorcycle helmet and the traffic cones on the floor, or the stray bits of clothing draped over every piece of furniture, or the cups overflowing with cigarette butts.

  There were cookie crumbs and ashes and potato chips mashed into the carpet, and mud on almost everything. Kaitlyn marveled at how they'd managed to get it so dirty in such a short time.

  A boy wearing only boxer shorts was standing up. He was big and lanky, with hair so short it was almost nonexistent, and dark, evil, knowing eyes. A skinhead? Kaitlyn wondered. He looked like the kind of guy you would hire as an assassin, and his mind felt like the red-haired man's.

  "Jackal Mac," Lydia whispered. "His real name's John MacCorkendale."

  Jackal eyes, Kaitlyn thought. That's it.

  The other boy was younger, Kaitlyn's age. He had skin the color of creamed coffee and a little, lean, quick body. His face was narrow, his features clean and sharp. The glasses perched on his nose did nothing to make him look less tough. A smart kid gone bad, Kait thought. The brains of the operation?

  She couldn't get a clear feeling about his mood.

  "That's Paul Renfrew, Renny," Lydia whispered- and ducked. Jackal Mac had thrown a size twelve combat boot at her.

  Kaitlyn ducked, too. Then she stood frozen as the huge guy rushed toward them, all arms and legs.

  "What are you doing here? What do you want?" he snarled, right in Kaitlyn's face.

  Oh, Lord, she thought. His tongue is pierced. It was, with what looked like a metal bolt.

  Renny had come, too, light as a sparrow, his eyes merry and malicious. He circled Kaitlyn, picked up a strand of her hair by the ends.

  "Ouch! That burns!" he said. "But the curves are okay." He smoothed a hand over Kait's behind. "I like her better in the flesh."

  Kaitlyn reacted without thinking. She whirled around and her hand made sharp contact with Renny's cheek. It knocked his glasses askew.

  "You don't ever do that," she said through her teeth. It brought back every moment of loathing she'd ever felt for a boy. Boys, with their big meaty hands and their big sloppy grins . . . she pulled her arm back in preparation for another slap.

  Jackal Mac caught her wrist from behind. "Hey, she fights! I like that."

  Kaitlyn jerked her hand out of his grasp. "You haven't seen anything yet," she told them, and gave her best wolfish grin. It wasn't acting. This was genuine, from the heart.

  They both laughed, although Renny was rubbing his cheek.

  Kaitlyn turned on her heel. "Come on, Lydia. Let's meet the others."

  Lydia had been crouching by the stairway. Now she straightened up slightly and hurried toward the second door Joyce had shouted at. It was the room Rob and Lewis had shared in the old days.

  The door was ajar; Lydia pushed it open. Kaitlyn braced herself for more destruction.

  She wasn't disappointed. Once again the curtains were down, although here they'd been replaced by black sheets. There was a black candle burning on the dresser, dripping wax, and an upside-down pentagram scrawled on the mirror in lipstick. Glamour magazines lay open on the floor, and there was the inevitable scattering of clothing and garbage.

  There was a girl on each of the twin beds.

  "Laurie Frost," Lydia said. She didn't seem quite so afraid of the girls. "Frost, this is Kaitlyn-"

  "I know her," the girl said sharply, sitting up. She had blond hair even lighter than Joyce's, and much messier. Her face was beautiful, although the permanently flared nostrils gave it a look of perpetual disdain. She was wearing a red lace teddy and as she raised a hand to flick hair out of her eyes Kaitlyn saw that she had long silvery nails. They were pierced with tiny rings like earrings.

  "She's one of them. The ones who ran away," Frost said in a menacing hiss.

  "Hey, yeah," the other girl said.

  There was no need for Lydia to introduce her. Kaitlyn recognized her from a picture on a file folder in Mr. Z's office. Except that the picture had been of a pretty, wholesome girl with dark hair and a vivid face. Now she was still pretty-in a bizarre way. There were streaks of cerulean blue in her hair, and black smudges of makeup surrounding her eyes. Her face was hard, her jaw belligerent.

  Sabrina Jessica Gallo, Kaitlyn thought. We meet at last.

  "I know you, too," Kaitlyn said. She kept her voice
cool and returned Bri's stare boldly. "And I'm not running away now. I came back."

  Bri and Frost looked at each other, then back at Kait. They burst into nasty laughter, Bri barking, Frost tittering.

  "Right back into the mousetrap," Frost said, flicking her long, silvery nails. "It's Kaitlyn, right? What do they call you, Kaitlyn? Kaitykins? Kitty? Kit Cat?"

  Bri took it up. "Kit Kat? Pretty Kitty? Pretty Pretty?"

  They dissolved into laughter again.

  "We'll have to make the Kitty Kat welcome," Frost said. Her wide, pale blue eyes were spiteful but slightly unfocused. Kaitlyn wondered if she were hung over from something-or maybe that was just the way these people were. The Fellowship had sensed insanity in them, and what Kaitlyn sensed now was that each of them was a little bit off Aggressive, malicious-but not very focused. As if there were an inner fogginess in each of them. They weren't even properly suspicious; they weren't asking the right questions.

  And Kait wasn't sure what to do with them while they were pointing and giggling at her like kindergartners.

  "Sabrina and Frost, I said now!" Joyce's voice came from the corridor, cracking like a whip. The girls kept giggling. Joyce pushed past Kaitlyn like a blond meteor and began yelling at them, picking clothes up off the floor.

  Kaitlyn shook her head, putting on an expression of genteel astonishment for Joyce's benefit. Then she turned to Lydia.

  "I think I've seen enough," she said, and made an exit.

  A few minutes later Joyce came into Lydia's room. Her sleek hair was ruffled and she was flushed, but her aquamarine eyes were still hard.

  "You can stay in this room today," she said to Kaitlyn. "I don't want you going downstairs while I'm doing testing."

  "That's fine with me. I didn't get any sleep last night."

  "Good luck napping," Joyce said grimly.

  But in a surprisingly short time, the upper floor was still. Lydia, Renny, and Bri had departed for school; Jackal Mac and Frost were presumably being tested. Gabriel's door was locked.

  Kaitlyn lay down on her old familiar bed-and realized how tired she really was. She felt wrung out, drained not only of energy, but of emotion. She'd meant to lie awake and make a plan, but she fell asleep almost instantly.