Sam tried to cover her laugh with a cough and wound up snorting instead. That snort led to a few others and it took her some seconds to get herself under control.
“What?”
“Don’t get me wrong—I’m grateful for your help. It’s just... you sounded so... I don’t know. Heroic.”
“What’s wrong with heroic?”
Everything. “Nothing.”
Lane fell silent. A silence that said, ‘I don’t believe you, but I don’t want to push the issue.’
“You know, we can’t protect you if we don’t have all the information we need.” Referring, of course, to her family situation.
“It was my business. And I didn’t know you needed
it.”
“You could have told us and let us decide.”
“What was I supposed to say, ‘Oh, by the way, my mom died in a suspicious car accident and my dad is in a mental health facility run by the government’? It’s an awkward subject to breach. Do you think I like having everyone look at me the way you’re looking at me right now?”
Lane looked down, “I guess I can see that. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Believe me, I’m used to reliving bad memories.”
“No, I meant, I’m sorry for what I have to say next.” Lane’s hand snaked up and grabbed hers before she could pull away. His grip was hard and firm. “You heard what Al said. About the number one killer of Talents being car accidents. And your mom’s brakes went out.”
“I’d made the connection,” Sam said shortly.
“What if the Corp has been after you this whole time? What if they killed your mother trying to get to you? Or what if they were trying to kill both of you?”
No. Sam’s stomach pitched. She didn’t believe that. She couldn’t believe that. “They’ve had so many opportunities to kill me after that car accident and they wait until I’m twenty-two and better able to defend myself?” This excuse came easily, since she’d been telling it to herself since the diner. “It doesn’t make any sense. No, no,” Sam continued to deny, “My mom’s death was a terrible accident, and it might be connected to the Talents, but I don’t think it’s connected through me. It’s just too much of a stretch.”
Lane stared at her. In this light, his eyes looked more steel gray than green. He wanted to argue, she could tell. But he left it alone.
“You’re probably right,” Lane said, “But at this rate, we’ll never find out. You should let us help you. All of this mystery doesn’t help anyone.”
“It’s not mystery, it’s privacy, and I never asked for your help.”
“Why can’t you just accept it?” Lane said, “We’re doing our best, you know!”
“I know,” Sam snapped, “That just makes it harder.”
“And how is that?”
“Because—” Sam looked down, unable to finish the sentence. She couldn’t voice her real thoughts. That was because she knew in the end he was going to leave her. That it was dangerous to get accustomed to being taken care of. His ulterior motive would run out and she would be left alone to fend for herself. Just like she always had done. Only it would be a harder, colder world for the absence. She couldn’t have that.
“Sam, look at me.” She did, reluctantly. “Samantha, I’m not going to leave you,” Lane said solemnly, “I promise.”
Her body responded to that, strongly. It didn’t listen to her brain, which was telling her he’d always say the right thing, that she couldn’t trust an empath. The words were what she’d been waiting to hear her whole life.
Kiss me, Sam thought. No. Wait. Where had that thought come from? Her throat seemed strangely constricted, her face felt flushed. Her brain was flooded with thoughts that she’d been struggling to keep at bay. Why not? Why was she keeping him away? He slept on her doorstep. He drove fourteen hours a day without bitching or complaining or snapping that this was all her fault. And he was smart and funny and above all, he had a good heart. Why not? Because, her brain pulled out its trump card, he’d never do it. He’s too much of a gentleman.
But I’m not! Her heart screamed.
But that wasn’t her. She wasn’t impulsive. She didn’t kiss guys she’d only known for a few days. She didn’t fall for their lines. She knew better than that. She pulled back.
“I wish I could believe you.”
“Fine,” Lane said through his teeth, “I’ll prove it. I’m keeping that promise. You’ll see.”
He grabbed one of her blankets, moving over to the couch bed, which might as well have been miles away.
For her part, Sam turned her back on him, on what she really wanted. So I like him, Samantha thought, big deal. It happens all the time. Two people, thrown into a stressful situation. They need something to focus on, so they create romance. I won’t let it go to my head, she decided, pulling her own blanket up to her chin. But as she covertly watched Lane climb in next to Al, fighting for elbow room, she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. It would have been nice to cuddle with something more than a pillow.
Chapter 13
“Good morning, good morning, sunbeams are smiling through. Good morning, good morning, to you!”
How could someone who’d slept as badly as Audrey be so very chipper?
Maybe because her neck wasn’t permanently bent thanks to sleeping in a recliner, Sam thought darkly. She should have taken the pullout and made the boys share the floor. She was the rescuee, after all. That ought to entitle her to something. Sam pulled the covers back over her head, but a delicious scent filled the air. What was that? Waffles?
“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!” This voice was decidedly more masculine, and the enticing smell was enough to convince Samantha to yank an eye open long enough to see Lane standing over the stove cooking.
OK. So maybe she could pull herself out of bed. Tumbling out of the recliner, Sam stumbled on the four short steps to the kitchen where she pulled out a chair and plunked down at the table, yawning.
“Give me one!” Al said, plopping down next to Audrey.
“Beauties before age.” Lane dropped waffles on Sam’s and Audrey’s plates, winking at Sam. And Sam blushed. At a wink. A wink! There was nothing charming about a wink. Winks were for skeezy old men. Sam coughed and busied herself with the waffle, which was quickly joined by, yes, eggs and bacon.
“So I hear I’m not the only one having nightmares,” Audrey said, getting straight to business. “Wanna describe yours?”
Sam complied, giving Audrey a bare-bones description of what she’d seen. For the first time since she’d met her, Audrey looked genuinely puzzled. “Those are...very similar. To my own.”
Sam shrugged. “I’ve never dreamt like that before. They felt real.”
“You’d be surprised just how real.” Audrey said dryly, “Let’s hope you don’t again. It’s not fun.”
Amen to that, Sam thought.
“But will you write what you remember down, later? They sound a little sketchy, but if I have enough clues I might be able to—”
“Are those waffles I smell?” Robert entered the room, rubbing his eyes and Audrey stopped talking, abruptly turning away from his voice. Well, well, well, Sam thought, maybe I’m not the only one with secrets. And maybe Audrey and her brother weren’t as open with each other as Sam had first assumed.
There weren’t enough chairs. Robert grabbed a plate and perched on the arm of the couch. He cocked his head. “Not that I’m complaining, because I do enjoy real food, but why are you people still here?”
“I told you, they’re some of Scotty’s friends.”
“They look...old to be his friends. Couldn’t they stay at his place?”
“His mom and stepdad are fighting. He didn’t want to subject them. Don’t you have to be at work soon?”
“Yeah,” Robert said, shoveling waffles into his mouth, “But I’m on clerical duty so I’m not in a rush.”
Despite his words, after wolfing down his food Robert grabbed his coat and was out the door wi
thin seconds.
“Now that he’s gone and everyone’s had breakfast,” Audrey said cheerily, “we can get down to business. Samantha, it might interest you to know that I’ve decided you are right. You are in grave danger. You should be careful.”
“Really? Thanks,” Sam said.
Audrey ignored the sarcastic tone and went on, “Lane, you, I’m a little mad at you.”
“Why?”
“You didn’t mention they’d sent that pyromaniac after you.”
Lane looked up suddenly, his attention zeroed in on Audrey. Sam wanted to ask him what he’d just sensed, but she knew that would be tactless. She’d ask later. For now, judging by the way Audrey’s spine had tensed, Sam would guess good old-fashioned fear. Well, she supposed it were only natural that Hal would freak her out. Hal freaked most people out. “I didn’t think it mattered,” Lane said.
“It matters,” Audrey said, “Keep away from him. That goes triple for you, Sam. Don’t get cocky. Watch your back.”
“Got it.”
“There’s one more thing. But you’re not going to like it.”
“What?”
“You gotta go see your dad.”
Sam nearly choked on her waffle, gasping until Al came up and hit her on the back. She shook her head, “No, no. We can’t do that, right guys?”
Al, Lane, and Harry chose this moment to keep their mouths shut.
“It’s too far out of our way!” Sam went on, “Besides, he has nothing to do with the Talents. Or me.”
“Oh, sure, the one person you have left in this world who went mysteriously insane years ago probably has very little to offer about your personal history. Especially since transitional Talents of any magnitude have a tendency to go insane.”
Boy, Audrey was even more sarcastic in the morning. Sam wouldn’t have thought that possible. Wait...wait a minute: “Did you say insane?” Sam gasped, glaring at Audrey.
“Oh sure,” Audrey said, “The further from puberty that a Talent goes through transition, the more likely they are going to go crazy. The brain can’t take the pressure and implodes. Didn’t they tell you?”
“No.” Sam glared at Lane, who cleared his throat and looked down, “They did not.”
“It didn’t really come up...” Lane said, “I mean, there’s so much going on.”
“Argument for another time, guys, ‘cause I’m going to be late. Look, if there’s one thing I’ve learned as a detective, it’s that the key’s in the loose ends. Your father is the one glaring loose end left in your life. At least, the one breathing loose end. You need to see him.”
Sam grumbled to herself about presumptuous and bossy teenagers who thought they knew everything. But Al, Lane, and Harry were nodding like this girl was the Second Coming of investigatory brilliance. Sam could see she wasn’t going to win the argument—at least, not while this girl was around.
“If nothing else, you can probably look up his medical records and doctor’s notes. You’re his only surviving relative after all, right? That oughta give you some rights.”
Mostly right. Sam thought she might have an aunt or two in the south, but they’d never come forward to claim her so she assumed they were out of the picture.
“And with that, you can go. And hurry—I’m going to be late for school. You can leave the dishes.”
Obligingly, everyone stood up and started clearing the table. They’d grabbed their bags and were halfway out the door when Audrey cleared her throat, “Actually, Lane? I need to talk to you in private.”
#
Lane halted mid-step, hoisting his backpack to his shoulders. Sam looked at him pointedly and he shrugged.
“Hello, I said private!” Audrey said.
Al and Harry exchanged looks and left. Sam was last to go, clearly reluctant. When the door finally slid shut, Audrey didn’t waste time getting down to brass tacks. She grabbed her cane, slid her sunglasses on, and pulled a chair out, gesturing for him to sit.
“Look, you like Sam, right? I mean, like like her?”
“Yeah, I mean, I guess so.” Why did he suddenly feel like he was back in high school?
“Cute. That’s great and all, but from here on out, she’s off-limits.”
“What? Why?” Not that he hadn’t reached the same conclusion. It seemed wrong to further romantic intentions with someone who needed your help. But it also rankled to be bossed around by someone almost ten years his junior. Audrey turned from him, opening the fridge and starting to feel around on the shelves.
“Beyond the obvious fact that complicated relationship issues and road trips don’t really mix, my dreams last night involved a lot more than vague omens of danger.”
“What? What do you mean? Something happens to us?”
“No.” Audrey paused, hand on a paper bag, and pulled it out. She turned to face him, “Something happens to Samantha: You. You’re going to betray her, Lane, in a big way. And she’s going to die as a direct result.”
“No.” Lane shook his head, “Are you saying you think I’m going to kill her?”
“No, not exactly—things happen, the way they go down, though, that’s what kills her.” Grabbing her own backpack from off the counter, Audrey zipped it open and slipped her lunch in.
“Are you absolutely certain these things are going to happen?”
With a little huff of breath, Audrey slammed her foot down. “Nothing is set in stone, that’s why I do what I do. But you don’t know where things are going to go wrong. You don’t know how life twists on you. The world has a tendency to turn back to worst case scenario because you bought decaf coffee instead of regular.”
“If I know what to be on guard for, though, I can make sure it doesn’t happen.”
“The best bet is to cut it off clean, now. Lane, of all the nightmares I had last night, in at least three of them you betrayed Samantha, and the last one was—” Audrey shuddered, “—terrible. I recommend you leave. Let Al and Harry take her the rest of the way.”
“I can’t do that. I’m the only one around capable of helping her through her transition. I made her a promise.”
Audrey shrugged, “Break it.” Classic teenager. If only the answer were that simple.
But if he left now, he’d confirm every terrible misconception Sam had ever had about mankind. And she needed his help. If he left, maybe he couldn’t betray her, but who was to say something else wasn’t going to happen, something even more terrible he could prevent by being there? No, he’d made a promise. And he kept his promises, god help him.
“Are you going to tell her?”
Audrey sighed, “Let’s see, I tell her, she bolts. She goes to Mexico or Canada. Changes her name, maybe gets a job. Then one day she goes to buy milk and winds up with a bag over her head, thrown in the back of a truck and dead in a ditch somewhere. Sounds like a great idea.”
“I take it that’s a no?”
“Yes that’s a no. But my recommendation stands. At the risk of sounding cliché, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
#
“What did she say?” Sam asked as Lane came out into the hallway.
“Nothing much,” he said, “Just, you know, vague oracle-type stuff. But it was kind of personal.”
Sam stared at him flatly for a long time, silent. Al stood at the foot of the stairs, “Hey, guys, we’d like to leave today, if possible. Are you coming?”
“Yes,” Lane said, “I certainly am.”
Chapter 14
The stripes of the road rolled by, hypnotic. Lane struggled not to watch them. There was nothing else to look at right now. They were on the I-5, the freeway that would be blazing north, taking them towards Seattle and Sam’s father. Scattered oak trees populated the rolling hills on either side of the freeway, gnarled and twisted. The kind of trees that would have called to him as a kid: “Climb me, climb me!” Now they just looked like broken bones and scraped hands waiting to happen. Observation at the ER tended to sa
p the fun out of most activities. He’d never look at a trampoline the same way again.
A minivan cut him off, the dad driving flipping him off: “Pick a lane!”
Oh, crap! Lane yanked the SUV back into the left lane, realizing he’d been riding the middle of two lanes. He overcompensated and ran up onto the gravel of the shoulder before correcting and finally putting the car back where it belonged.
He was starting to fall into a trance. Since he was driving, he guessed this wasn’t a good thing. Behind him, Harry snored softly, an open science fiction book in his lap. Al leaned against the windshield, eyes half closed as he listened to his MP3 player; comfortable in that Zen mode he fell into while “watching” the car.
That left only one person to talk to. Probably the person he most wanted to talk to. But after this morning she’d steadfastly ignored him. She’d been polite but non-engaged in typical Samantha fashion. Lane sighed. He’d been this close to kissing her last night. Only good sense had prevented him from moving forward. Had she sensed that? Is that why she was pulling away? Or was it something else? He was a frickin’ empath, and girls still managed to confuse him.
His gaze slid over to her, where she sat primly. Her feet were tucked under the seat, her hands curled on her lap, her head tilted back slightly. She looked like an entombed Ice Princess. Providing she was actually asleep.
He gently reached out to her, testing. She’d taken to building shields with incredible skill, but he had more experience than she had. He could still pick up the distinct stirrings of emotion that signaled she was awake.
“I felt that,” Samantha grumbled.
She was getting better with the mental stuff. Lane didn’t bother denying. “Are you awake?”
Samantha mumbled something along the lines of, “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”
“I’m bored. If you don’t want us to crash and perish in a fiery inferno, it’s best you open your sleepy eyes and entertain me.”
After a long moment, Sam pulled an eye open, “What do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know. Ask me a question.”
Chasing Power (Hidden Talents) Page 12
