Dark Visions

by L. J. Smith

  It was a magazine, the Journal of Parapsychology.

  "My name is going to be in this! The lead article. And not just this." Joyce's face was contorted, it reminded Kaitlyn of the way she'd looked when she'd held Gabriel's bleeding forehead against the crystal, trying to kill him. Overcome by maniacal passion.

  "Not just this, but in Nature, Science, The American Journal of Psychology, The New England Journal of Medicine," Joyce raved. "Multidisciplinary journals, the most prestigious journals in the world. My name and my work."

  Dear God, she's a mad scientist, Kaitlyn thought. She was almost spellbound by the ranting woman.

  "And that's just the beginning. Awards. Grants. A full professorship at the school of my choice. And, incidentally, a little trinket called the Nobel Prize."

  Kait thought at first that she was joking. But there was no humor in those glazed aquamarine eyes. Joyce looked as insane as any of the psycho psychics.

  Could he have hit her with the crystal, too? Kaitlyn wondered dazedly. Or could it be some sort of cumulative effect from being around it, like secondhand smoke?

  But she knew that no matter what the crystal had done to warp and magnify the desire, it was Joyce's desire in the first place. Kaitlyn had finally discovered what made Joyce run; she had just seen into the woman's soul.

  "That's why I put up with it, and why I'm going to put up with anything. So that the cause of science can be advanced. And so I can get what I'm due."

  As suddenly as she had grabbed it, Joyce dropped the magazine she'd been shaking in front of Kaitlyn's eyes. She turned back to the sink.

  "Now, why don't you take a walk," she said in a voice suddenly gone dull. "I can wash the dishes by myself."

  Numb, Kaitlyn walked out of the kitchen. She avoided the dining room, went through the front lab and up the stairs.

  Gabriel's door was locked. Well, she should have expected that, really. She'd managed to offend two of the three people who'd championed her tonight. Might as well try for a perfect score, she thought philosophically, and headed for the room she was to share with Lydia.

  But Lydia proved to be impossible to offend or talk to at all. She was in bed with the covers pulled over her head. Whether she was sulking or simply scared, Kaitlyn didn't know. She wouldn't come out.

  So moody, Kaitlyn thought.

  It was a very long, very dull evening. Kait listened to the other psychics stagger up to their various rooms, then a TV blared from one room, a stereo from the other. It spoiled Kaitlyn's concentration for the one thing that might have relaxed her: drawing.

  And this room depressed her. All her possessions had disappeared from it-thrown away when the new students came in. Anna's raven mask was lying in a corner. Like a piece of garbage. Kait didn't dare hang it up where it belonged.

  Finally, she decided to take a bath and follow Lydia's example. She had a long soak, curled up in bed-and then there was nothing to do but think.

  Scenes from the day kept floating through her mind. The face of the red-haired man . . . Gabriel's face in the dawn light. Mr. Z's silhouette.

  I've got to make plans, she thought. Mysteries to investigate. Ways to find the crystal. But her mind couldn't focus on one thing, it kept skipping.

  Joyce defended me ... I fooled the fooler. And what convinced her was that Rob and I had broken up ...

  because Rob liked Anna.

  What an idea. How odd. And Gabriel fell for it, too.

  She must be sleepy. Her mind skipped again, her thoughts becoming less and less cohesive. I hope Gabriel isn't really angry with me. I need him. Oh, God, all the things I said to him . . .

  Was that wrong? To let him think I'm in love with him? But it wasn't completely a lie. I do care about him. . . .

  As much as I do about Rob?

  It was a heretical thought, and one which jerked her fully awake. She realized she had been half-dreaming.

  But the thought wouldn't go away.

  In Canada she had discovered that Gabriel loved her. Loved her in a vulnerable, childlike way she could never have believed if she hadn't seen it, felt it in his mind. He had been completely open to her, so warm, so joyous . . .

  . . . the way he was this morning, her mind whispered.

  But in Canada she hadn't loved him. Or at least she hadn't been in love.

  You couldn't be in love with two people at the same time. You couldn't. . .

  Could you?

  Suddenly Kaitlyn felt icy cold. Her hands were cold, her face was cold. As if someone had opened a window somewhere inside her and let a glacial wind blow in.

  If I loved Gabriel ... if I loved both of them ...

  How could I choose?

  How could I choose?

  The words were ringing so loudly in her head that she didn't notice the very real noise in her room. Not until a shadow loomed on the wall beside her.

  Terror swept her. For an instant she thought it was Mr. Z-and then she saw Gabriel beside her bed.

  Oh, Lord, did he hear my thought? She groped for shields, found she didn't have any. She was burned out.

  But Gabriel was smiling, looking at her from under heavy eyelids. He would never have smiled like that if he had heard. "Ready to try out the balcony now?" he asked.

  Kaitlyn looked at him, slowly regaining her composure. He was looking particularly gorgeous, and dangerous as darkness. She felt a magnetic pull drawing her to him.

  But she was exhausted. Unshielded. And she had just discovered a crisis within herself that threatened to bring the world crashing down.

  I can't go with him. It would be insane.

  The magnetic pull only got stronger. She wanted to be held. She wanted him to hold her.

  "Come on," Gabriel whispered, and took her hand. He caressed the palm with his thumb. "Kiss me, Kait."

  CHAPTER 7

  Kaitlyn was shaking her head at him. What on earth could the girl mean?

  Gabriel could tell she wanted to come. He'd read the line in some old book somewhere, probably during one of his stints in solitary. "She trembled at his touch." Reading it, he'd sneered-but now he was seeing the real thing. When he reached down to take her hand, Kaitlyn trembled.

  So what was the problem?

  I'm tired, she projected in a whisper.

  Oh, come on. Sitting on a balcony is relaxing.

  He could tell she was going through some struggle. Mad because of the way he'd acted after dinner?

  Or...

  Did it have something to do with what he'd seen this afternoon?

  His mood darkened. Is there something wrong? he asked silkily.

  "No, of course not," she said very quickly. On the other bed a lump under the comforter stirred. Gabriel eyed it with distaste.

  Kaitlyn was getting up. Gabriel's lip twitched at the sight of her nightgown-it was flannel and tentlike, covering her from throat to ankle. Quite a bit different from Frost, who had pirouetted in front of him dressed in what looked like a transparent red handkerchief the first night he'd met her. She'd made it clear, too, that she didn't mind if he took the handkerchief off.

  Kaitlyn, by contrast, was holding the neck of her nightgown closed as she briskly walked to his room.

  She paused there to look at the walls. "You do the graffiti?"

  He snorted. Mac. He was living here.

  "And what did he think when you asked him to get out?"

  Gabriel said nothing, waited until she turned around. Then he gave her one of his most disturbing smiles. I didn't ask.

  "Oh." She didn't pursue it. She stepped through the open sliding glass door onto the balcony. "It's a nice night," she murmured.

  It was'-a soft moonless night, with stars showing between branches of the olive trees. The air was warm, but Kaitlyn had her arms wrapped around herself.

  Gabriel went still.

  Maybe it was the simplest explanation after all. Maybe he'd been wrong about her trembling-or wrong about the reason. Not desire . . . but fear.

  "Kaitlyn
." Instinctively, he used words instead of thoughts, giving her the distance she seemed to need.

  "Kait, you don't have to ... I mean, you know that, don't you?"

  She turned quickly, as if startled. But then she didn't seem to know what to say. He could search her thoughts-he could sense them even now, like silver fish darting and gliding in clear water-but he wouldn't

  't. He would wait for her to tell him.

  She was staring at him, breathing lightly. "Oh, Gabriel. I do know. And I can't explain-I'm just... oh, it's been a hard day."

  Then she put her hands over her face. She started to cry, with her hair falling around her, and little quick intakes of breath.

  Gabriel stood transfixed.

  Kaitlyn the indomitable-crying. She did it so seldom that he was too amazed at first to react. When he could move, he could think of only one thing to do.

  He took her in his arms, and Kaitlyn clung to him. Clung tightly-and after a moment lifted a tear-stained face to him.

  The kisses were soft and slow and very passionate. It was strange to do this without touching her mind, but he wasn't going to be the first to initiate contact. He'd wait for her. Meanwhile, it was a sort of pleasurable agony to restrain himself.

  And it was good just to hold her and touch the softness of her skin. He wanted to hold her hard, not to hurt her but to keep her safe, to show her that he was strong enough to protect her. Her beauty was like fire and strange music, and he loved her.

  And he could love her, because she didn't belong to anyone else, and she loved him back. She'd given it all up for him.

  For an instant he felt a flicker of guilt at that, but it was swept aside by a fierce desire to hold her closer.

  To be closer. He couldn't keep himself in check any longer. He reached for her mind, a tendril of thought extending to caress her senses.

  Kaitlyn recoiled. Not just pulling away from his mind, but pulling out of his arms. He could feel her trying to fling up shields against him.

  Leaving him stricken, utterly bewildered, and bereft. Cold because she'd taken all the warmth in the universe away with her.

  Suspicion knifed through him, unavoidable this time.

  What is it you don't want me to see?

  "Nothing!" She was frightened-no, panicked. His suspicion swelled until it was larger than both of them, until it blocked out everything else. He threw words at her like stones.

  "You're lying! Don't you think I can tell?" He stared at her, controlling his breath, forcing his voice into velvety-iron tones. "It wouldn't have something to do with Kessler coming around here this afternoon, would it?"

  "Rob-here?"

  "Yeah. I felt his mind and tracked him down to the redwood trees out back. You're telling me you didn't know?"

  Her eyes were still wide with surprise-but he saw, and felt, the flash of guilt. And his suspicions were confirmed.

  "What are you really doing here, Kaitlyn?"

  "I told you. I-"

  "Stop lying to me!" Again he had to stop to control himself. When he spoke again his voice was like ice because he was made of ice. "You didn't break it off with him, did you? And you're not here to join us.

  You're a spy."

  "That's not true. You won't even give me a chance-"

  "I told them all that I'd seen into your mind-but I never really did. You made sure of that. You did a wonderful job of tricking me."

  Her eyes were large and fierce with pain. "I didn't trick you," she said in a ragged voice. "And if you think I'm a spy, then why don't you go tell Joyce? Why don't you tell them all?"

  He was calm, now, because a block of ice can't feel. "No, I won't do that. I'll let you do it to yourself.

  And you will, sooner or later-probably sooner, because the old man isn't stupid and Frost will pick things up. You'll betray yourself."

  There was a blue flame of defiance in her eyes now. "I'm telling you, I am not a spy," she said.

  "Oh, right. You're perfectly sincere. I believe you completely." Quick as a striking snake, he bent over her, thrusting his face close to hers. "That's fine, as long as you remember one thing. Keep out of my way. If you mess with my plans, angel-no mercy."

  Then he left, stalking out of the room to be alone with his dark bitterness.

  Kaitlyn cried herself to sleep.

  "Bri-school! Frost-testing!"

  The shouting voice in the hall woke Kaitlyn. She felt languid and stupid, with a stuffed-up nose and a bad headache.

  The door banged open. "Lydia-school! Kaitlyn, you're going to school, too. I arranged it yesterday, and I'm coming in with you today."

  Thanks for telling me, Kaitlyn thought, but she got Up-painfully, because every muscle seemed to be aching. She stumbled to the bathroom and began to go through the routine of dressing like a programmed robot. Shower, first.

  The warm water felt good on her upturned face, but her mind kept leaping back to what had happened with Gabriel last night. At first everything had been so wonderful-and then ... it had hurt her to see his eyes like holes in his face and his mouth tight to keep it from working.

  You ought to be glad it all turned awful, a voice inside her whispered. Because if it had stayed good-well, what would you do? What would you do about Rob?

  She didn't know what she would have done. Her entire middle was a tight ball of anguish and she was so confused.

  It didn't matter. Gabriel hated her now, anyway. And that was good, because she was going to be true to Rob. It was good-except for the minor fact that Gabriel might denounce her to Mr. Z and get her killed.

  Tears mingled with the shower spray on her face. Kaitlyn turned her head aside to take a deep, shuddering breath, and that was why she didn't see the shower curtain being pulled open.

  The first thing she knew was a rough hand closing around her wet arm.

  "What do you think you're doing? Get out of there!" Bri shouted, adding a string of expletives. Kaitlyn had to step over the side of the tub or fall over it-she was being dragged out. Naked and stunned, she shook her hair back and stared at the other girl.

  "You think you can use all the hot water again? Like you did last night?" That was the gist of what Bri was yelling, although actually every other word was a

  curse. Kaitlyn stood dripping on the tile floor, dumbfounded.

  "You think you're better than us, don't you?" Bri shouted. "You're Little Miss Responsible, teacher's pet.

  You can use all the water you want to. You've never had it hard."

  The sentences were disjointed, and again Kaitlyn had that sense of something being off, as if Bri couldn't actually get a fix on what was making her angry. But her anger and resentment were clear enough.

  "Everybody's darling," she mocked, cocking her head back and forth, with a finger to her chin-a bizarre Shirley Temple impersonation. "Looks so sweet- "

  Something snapped. Kaitlyn's temper had always been combustible, and now it ignited like rocket accelerant touched with a match. Naked as she was, she seized Bri and slammed her against a wall. Then she pulled her away and slammed her back again. Bri's mouth fell open and her eyes showed white. She fought, but fury gave Kaitlyn inhuman strength.

  "You think I've always had things easy?" she yelled into Bri's face. "You don't know how it was back in Ohio. I was from the wrong side of the tracks anyway, but to top it off, I was a witch. You think I don't know what it's like to have people cross themselves when you look at them? When I was five the bus driver wouldn't take me to school-she said my mom ought to get me blessed. And then my mom died-"

  Tears were sliding down Kaitlyn's cheeks, and she was losing her anger. She slammed Bri again and got it back.

  "Kids at school would run up and touch me for a dare. And adults would get so nervous when I talked to them-Mr. Rukelhaus used to get a twitch in his eye. I grew up feeling like something that ought to be put in the zoo. Don't tell me I don't know what it's like. Don't tell me!"

  She was winding down, her breath slowly calming. So was Bri
's.

  "You dye your hair blue and do stuff to look weird-but you're doing it yourself, and you can change it. I can't change my eyes. And I can't change what I am."

  Suddenly embarrassed, Kaitlyn let go of Bri's arms and looked around for a towel.

  "You're okay," Bri said in a voice Kaitlyn hadn't heard her use before. Not a sneering tough-girl voice.

  Kait looked around, startled.

  "Yeah, you're okay. I thought you were a goody-goody wimp, but you're not. And I think your eyes are cool."

  She looked more sane than she had since Kait had met her.

  "I-well, thanks. Thank you." Kait didn't know whether to apologize or not; she settled for saying, "You can use the shower now."

  Bri gave a friendly nod.

  It's strange, Kait thought as Joyce drove her to school. Bri, Lydia, and Renny had gone in Lydia's car.

  It's strange, but for a while there she sounded just like Marisol. What was it Marisol said that first night?

  You kids think you're so smart-so superior to everyone else.

  But we didn't think that; it was just Marisol's paranoia-a very particular kind of paranoia. Kaitlyn shot a look at Joyce under her eyelashes. And Joyce has that kind, too-thinking she isn't getting what she's due.

  They all think the world is out to get them-that they're special and superior but everybody is persecuting them. Can the crystal do that?

  If it can, it's no wonder they're out to get the world first.

  Joyce checked her in to school, and Kaitlyn found herself going to the same classes she had when she'd come to the Institute. The teachers put her absence down as a vacation, which was mildly amusing. It was surrealistic, like being in a dream, to sit in British literature again, with all these kids whose lives were quiet and boring and completely safe. Who hadn't had anything happen to them in the last few weeks; who hadn't changed at all. Kaitlyn felt out of step with the whole world.

  Watch it, kid. Don't you get paranoid.

  At lunch several people asked her to sit with them. Not just one group, but two, called to her in the cafeteria. It was the sort of thing Kaitlyn had always dreamed about, but now it seemed trivial. She was looking for Lydia-she wanted to talk to that girl.