by Sarah Noffke
Zuma then turned her head to the side, to the spot where they had been a few seconds prior. They were no longer in the center of the room, but rather three feet to the side. “You did it,” she said, looking at the spot where they had been and then to Finley with astonishment.
“We did,” he corrected.
And just then she realized that her arms were still tied around him, her fingers pressing into the hard muscles of his back. Zuma broke out of his arms with a single step backward, but then her stomach lurched and she wavered on her feet.
“Easy now,” Finley said, moving forward and catching her with his arms again. “It’s disconcerting on the body at first. It takes some getting used to,” he said and he was grateful for the excuse to snake his arms around her again. To be what she leaned on in that moment.
“So,” she said through a tattered breath. “It sounds like we need to practice again.”
“Yeah, as soon as you’re ready,” Finley said.
For a full minute the colors around her were too intense, almost unnatural. A dozen different smells overwhelmed her olfactory center. And every noise thundered in her head. And then all at once, like the dial on her senses had been turned down, everything returned to normal. She brought her head up to look at Finley, relief written perfectly on her face. He must have seen it because he said, “Are you better now?”
She nodded, blowing out a long breath as she stepped toward him. Zuma’s hands hesitated by her side but then she brought them around his waist again and grabbed her wrist with her hand, linking herself around him. “I’m ready,” she said in a determined voice.
“Okay, I’m going to try teleporting farther. To the other side of the room,” Finley said.
That was roughly twenty feet away, Zuma realized. “How far can you teleport?”
“Thirty feet is about the max, which is why I still drive,” he said with a humorless laugh. “Okay, now focus,” he reminded her and she nodded, her eyes on her focal point, his chest. Zuma felt his breath just above her, so comforting and warm. She allowed her eyes to fall closed. I belong to Finley, she said in her mind. A second later the world around her exploded into blackness. Zuma didn’t feel whole anymore but rather melted into the person beside her, like they were one. It was a terrifyingly freeing feeling and the point that those two ideas could exist as one confounded every part of both their beings. Zuma could see nothing. Feel nothing. But she had a knowingness so pure and rich she didn’t question it. She was his. And the person all around her belonged to her as much as she belonged to him. They were one.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Zuma and Finley exploded into the place where he had intended, on the far side of the room. He stood steady, holding Zuma up. And then he blinked down at her, his senses back into full gear. At once, Finley realized he was holding her up. Fully supporting her weight. Zuma was slumped against his chest, her legs barely under her. He kneeled down slightly and scooped her legs up with one arm, the other cradling her back. Then he placed her on the ground and checked her breathing. It was ragged, but strong. He kneeled down closer and dared to tap her on the cheek. This had happened to him the first time he’d teleported, so he wasn’t immediately worried. From everything he could guess the consciousness sometimes delayed catching up with the body while teleporting since the two split during the process.
“Zuma,” he whispered and tapped her cheek again.
Her eyelids squeezed together like she was reluctant to open them. Her hands fumbled around her. Her head rocked back and forth.
“Come on. Wake up,” he encouraged, nudging her shoulders.
The girl then reached out suddenly and grabbed on to his hand. She shot into a sitting position and took a large gulp of air at the same time. Zuma’s eyes were wide, her chest rising and falling from the shot of adrenaline. The body instinctively knows how to get its counterpart to join back up with it.
“There you are,” Finley said, a smile in his voice as he looked into her eyes.
She blinked back at him, bemused. “What happened? Did I pass out?”
“Technically, no,” he said. “Just a bit of a delay between your consciousness joining back with your body after landing. It happens.”
Zuma switched her gaze to the other side of the room, realizing they’d done it. Then she nodded, unable to manage more than that, and that’s when she realized she was gripping his hand. The girl untied her fingers from his, realizing her palms were sweaty.
“How do you feel?” Finley asked.
“Like my insides are tacked to the outside of my body,” she said, her face grimacing.
He nodded, almost smiling. “Yeah, that’s normal.”
“So what if I have that problem when we are at Knight’s compound?” she asked.
“Then we will deal with it,” he said matter-of-factly. “But my guess is you’ll be fine. You’re a performer and so I think you’ll rise to the challenge when we’re there.”
She nodded, pulling her legs up close to her chest, which she realized was shivering. “Okay, well, I really don’t want to do that again for a while, so now what? What’s the second thing to master?”
He dropped his eyes, not looking forward to this part of the training. Dreading it actually. “Now I’ve got to allow you in my head.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Wait. What?” Zuma said, wondering if teleporting had messed with her ears.
“You’re saying those two words a lot today. ‘Wait’ and ‘what,’” he said, trying to sound light.
“You’re going to allow me in your head?” she said, pushing to a standing position. Zuma wavered a bit and as she expected Finley reached out and steadied her, his arm holding her by the waist. He waited a beat until she appeared composed and then let her go.
“Yeah, I think that being silent at Knight’s compound is for the best, because communication between us is key,” he said with a shrug.
“So you’re going to establish a telepathic link with me?” she asked, surprised.
Finley had been adamant about her not being in his head for the last few months. Only the day before did he briefly take down the wall just to put it back up. But for that brief moment that Zuma was given the gift to explore parts of his mind she became entranced by it.
“Just a link though,” he said, breaking into her reverie. “This is just for communication, so no all-access pass,” he said, sounding suddenly tense, a huge contrast to how he was when they’d been teleporting.
“Right.” She nodded.
Most people weren’t effective at shielding Zuma from their thoughts and some, like Dave, could share a telepathic link while also keeping her roped off from the “confidential files.” Finley had the rare ability to keep her out in a way she’d never experienced before, so it didn’t surprise her that he could open a tiny door and only filter out certain thoughts.
“But if you could have opened just this small telepathic link before then why didn’t you for training? I’ve been begging you to,” she said to Finley.
“It just wasn’t necessary,” he said. “We work fine together without it.”
But the truth was he had been doing everything he could over the last few months to keep Zuma at a distance and he was afraid that opening up that intimate link would tempt him too much. And then there was also the fear that once Zuma was in his head she would be smart enough to figure out how to find back doors and break into the places he never wanted her to see. But they needed advantages while in Knight’s compound, so Finley was going to take this risk, just this once.
“Okay, so how do you want to do this?” Zuma asked, trying to hide the glee in her voice.
“Well, I’ll begin,” he said and turned and faced her directly. With Finley’s eyes on her she suddenly felt vulnerable, not a feeling she was well acquainted with. She spied something in him shift; it was tiny but it was as if a part of his invisible shield had come down. And then in her head she heard him say, Can you hear me?
; She nodded, which produced a frustrated sigh from him.
“What?” Zuma said out loud.
“Telepathic communication,” he said with a growl. “Respond telepathically.” Finley’s demeanor had shifted completely. He was tense and on edge, where he’d been relaxed and calm earlier. He didn’t want to do this, she could tell.
Fine, she said in his head, and stuck her tongue out at him.
That’s real mature, Zuma, he said in her head.
So this seems to work, Zuma thought back over the link. That was easy.
Not really, he said silently.
She quirked a curious eyebrow at him.
It took about a dozen attempts on my part for you to hear me, Finley communicated telepathically.
Really?
Yeah, my firewall is so strong it’s hard for even me to break through it, He said silently. I had the same problem the first time.
But it’s down now?
Yeah, he said in her mind and she sensed the frustration in his voice.
What? Zuma said.
Just keep to the thoughts I give you when we’re linked, Finley said.
Why? she asked.
Because to let you into my head, I had to take down all my walls. It’s not a link, but rather an open network, Finley said.
Oh, she said and couldn’t resist the smile that flicked to her mouth. Finley’s mind was free of any security, an open field for her to peruse if she dared.
“Zuma!” he said out loud, his voice sharp, hostile.
Just like that she felt the walls shoot up around his thoughts. Strong, impenetrable. Not only that, but within seconds the walls around his mind became invisible, making it so she couldn’t even sense them to find a weak spot. He was incredible at keeping people out of his mind. One of a kind.
“I wasn’t going to go exploring,” she finally said, a mischievous look on her face.
“Then what’s with the guilty look?” Finley asked.
“Just intrigued by the idea that I could,” she said.
“Well, don’t be,” he said. “Just take the messages I give to you when we’re linked, no more. Got it?” he said, his voice harsh.
“Yeah, fine,” Zuma said and watched as he stalked from the room.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
From the top of the bucket lift Ian could see all of Vagabond Circus. The lift was usually only used inside the big top and mostly only stretched to thirty or forty feet, but Ian had controlled it remotely from the bucket and raised it to its full height. Sixty feet. He felt like from this vantage point he could protect Vagabond Circus, but he knew he was fooling himself. There was no way to fully prepare the circus for what was coming. And yet he also knew that one must weather the storm to spy the rainbows. Too bad Vagabond Circus was going to be hit by multiple hurricanes at once. And if the big top and its people survived then what came next was a gamble. No rainbows were guaranteed.
Ian blew out a heavy breath. His powers had gotten stronger recently, just as his mother’s clairvoyance and divination strengthened as she had gotten older. It used to be that Ian had to touch someone to read their fortune, but that wasn’t necessary anymore. His visions were stronger when he clasped someone’s hand like when he’d read Dave’s and Zuma’s fortunes recently. However, now he was getting flashes of the future all the time when he was alone, not touching anyone. Things that would happen to Jack Fuller. Decisions Titus would have to make. Fates that the triplets would meet separately and together. Heartbreak Sunshine would feel. Challenges Fanny would struggle with. Experiences that would bring hope to Benjamin. And Oliver’s worst-case scenario. The doom that would fall down on the circus. Hundreds of flashes streaked across Ian’s vision all day long. It wasn’t just making it incredibly difficult to work on rig crew, but also threatening his very sanity.
The curly-haired man lived more in other people’s futures than he did in his own present. Ian was beginning to understand why his mother went crazy. In the letter she left, his mother told him that she took her own life before the visions took her away completely. Was that where he was headed? Ian wondered. Tears swelled in his teal blue eyes and then when they reached the brink they spilled over and fell down his round full cheeks. I’m not ready to be done, he thought, feeling certain his days were running short.
Chapter Forty
They left the Audi several blocks away from Knight’s warehouse. Now Finley and Zuma stood in the shadows of a neighboring warehouse, shielded from view and from the Los Angeles sun which was unrelenting even as autumn approached.
“That’s it?” Zuma said, sounding unimpressed as she pointed at a grayish warehouse.
“What did you expect?” Finley asked, staring at the building with hordes of contempt.
“I don’t know,” Zuma said. “There’s no gates, guards, or the pits of hell surrounding it.”
“Knight gets by because he knows how to be incognito,” Finley said.
“That’s a big word,” Zuma said, her tension making her almost giddy. It was a stupid thing to be right now, she thought.
“I can’t read. It doesn’t mean I’m dumb, Zuma,” Finley said, his voice flaring with heat.
“I’m just teasing you,” she said. “I didn’t make that joke because you can’t read. Actually if you’d quit reminding me I’d probably forget.”
“I doubt that,” he said, his eyes still pinned on the building, seeming to study it.
“I don’t think you’re dumb,” she said, her voice sounding tortured.
Finley revolved his gaze on her. The late morning light made the blonde of her hair glow, the pink shimmer. “Oh, yeah, well what do you think?”
She regarded him for a long moment, taking in the angle of his lips, which were pink and contrasted with his tanned skin. Taking in his high cheekbones and angular jaw. “I think if we get out of this alive I’m challenging you to a friendly fight. I could use the opportunity to let off some steam,” Zuma said.
He leaned forward so they were only inches away, their noses almost touching. “Challenge accepted, and prepare now because you’re getting out of this alive,” Finley said and then grabbed her hand and yanked her out into the full sunlight. “Come on. Let’s save Jack’s ass.”
Chapter Forty-One
Last night Benjamin slept in Fanny’s bed. He wasn’t usually a kid who got scared. Actually as the oldest of the three kids he often checked under beds and in closets for monsters. But the newest, grossest fear had crept into his chest since he’d learned of Dr. Raydon’s death. The ten-year-old boy had had a plan. He’d held onto this dream since he was five years old and always knew his place was in Vagabond Circus as a performer. Now the only thing that he ever wanted felt close to slipping away from him. Titus had said the circus would go on, but how?
Benjamin now worried. People flocked to buy tickets to Vagabond Circus because Dave had a reputation. He was an incredible ringmaster and usually signed autographs for at least an hour after every show. How could anyone replace that? How would anyone want to? That top hat wouldn’t fit anyone else. Without Dave there was no ringmaster and without a master-of-ceremonies the circus was cursed.
And where were the acrobats? The first show was in two days and without the ringmaster or the acrobats the circus would crumble. Benjamin just knew it and this terrified him. He felt he needed to do something. Something to save the circus. But he was only a boy without the ability to dream travel and he didn’t have one of the gifts that went along with it. He felt powerless as he cringed in Fanny’s unmade bed. She had left to care for the other kids hours ago but Benjamin couldn’t move. He was frozen by grief.
Chapter Forty-Two
Can you hear me? Finley said over the telepathic link he’d opened in his mind for Zuma.
Yes, she said and she was careful to just take the messages he pushed at her. Still, she could sense remnants of other parts of Finley’s mind. It made her feel guilty since she knew he didn’t want her exploring his mind, but it was impossible not
to also pick up on other pieces of him. It was like trying to catch a fish without also catching a bit of water.
This is important, Zuma, he said in her thoughts.
She just blinked back at him, waiting for him to continue.
You have to listen to me when we’re in Knight’s compound, he said in her mind. Don’t argue with anything I tell you. My orders are the law, okay?
She nodded, but that apparently wasn’t enough for him.
Zuma, he said in her mind, an angry edge to the telepathic message.
Yes, she said back to him.
Finley’s eyes were soaked in reluctance and also, strangely, a solid determination. He’d avoided telling her who he was and now he had to show her where he came from. It was the last thing on Earth that he wanted to do and yet there was no way around it at this point. All right, are you ready? he said, and held out his hand for her.
Yeah, she said, swallowing down the tension lacing her throat.
Zuma stepped forward, not taking his hand but rather guiding both hers around his waist. It was an intimate gesture but was only supposed to have a utilitarian purpose. We’re only this close to teleport, she thought. He reciprocated by threading his arms through hers and then around her back. Finley pressed Zuma firmly to his chest. He drew in a long breath.
