He looked dubious. “You’re sure? You didn’t get very much.”
It had felt like a lot to me. But then, I’d always had to mete out my purchases, spacing them through the month so they wouldn’t take up a disproportionate amount of any one paycheck. “No, I’m fine.”
“Not even a change of clothes?”
My gaze strayed to the mall located across the street from the spot where we stood outside the drugstore. That mall was unlike anything I’d ever seen before, a conglomeration of disparate buildings with a huge oval sunshade suspended from a tower in the middle, making it look as though a UFO was hovering over the shopping center. I could probably count on one hand the times in my life I’d been inside an actual mall; my mother and I had shopped at Walmart and Family Dollar and the local thrift stores in whichever town we were currently inhabiting.
Sorrow flared again as I remembered how my mother had tried to turn our shopping into a game, how we’d try to hunt for the biggest bargains, the greatest deals. I’d known we were poor, but somehow, it hadn’t seemed to matter so much. We always had a roof over our heads and food on the table. Maybe it wasn’t the sturdiest roof or the fanciest meal, but we’d always managed to get by.
“Hey,” Jake said, and I blinked to see him watching me with concern in those velvety dark brown eyes. “We don’t have to go over there if you don’t want to.”
I drew in a breath, resolving to make the best of the admittedly shitty hand the universe had dealt me that day. There was nothing I could do to bring my mother back, but I knew if she could still somehow see me, was maybe looking down to watch over her daughter, then I needed to make sure I didn’t disappoint her.
“No,” I told him. “It’s okay. Let’s go.”
And I headed over to the pedestrian walkway that connected the little shopping area where we stood to the much grander mall on the other side of the street, chin high.
I knew I had to consider this the first day of my new life.
Of course, my “new life” didn’t include bleeding Jake Wilcox dry by shopping at Neiman Marcus — I wasn’t quite that detached from my former existence. No, I went to Macy’s, which still felt way above my pay grade, and found two pairs of jeans on sale for fairly reasonable prices and a couple of tops. I was wearing my favorite pair of flats, so I didn’t see the need for new shoes. However, while Jake waited off by the escalator, I also added a bra and a few pairs of underpants to the pile, figuring it was probably smart to get a couple of extra things, since I had no idea what would await me when I got to Flagstaff.
He’d given me cash to pay for my purchases, so at least I didn’t have to suffer the humiliation of having him stand there at the register and see what I was buying. Once everything was safely hidden in an anonymous shopping bag, I went over to him.
“All done,” I said.
“That was fast,” he remarked.
“I didn’t need much.”
One eyebrow lifted, but he apparently decided not to comment on my frugality. “Hungry yet?”
By that point it was nearly six, maybe a little early for dinner…especially in Vegas…but I thought I could eat something. Or at least, the idea of food didn’t make me vaguely nauseous the way it had earlier. Something felt wrong about eating, and yet I knew that starving myself wouldn’t accomplish anything. My mother would want me to eat, so I would.
“Sure,” I said. “You can decide where — I’m not picky.”
“Let’s go look at the directory,” he suggested, so we left Macy’s and went in search of one. Luckily, there was a kiosk not far away from the store entrance, and we paused there while Jake perused the offerings. “Let’s try the Capital Grille.”
I glanced down at the red T-shirt, jeans, and black flats I was wearing, then shot him a dubious look. “That sounds fancy.”
“I thought you said you weren’t picky.”
“I’m not…but I also don’t want to go to some four-star restaurant wearing this.”
He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to protest, then seemed to stop before the words could leave his lips. Most likely, he was reminding himself that I’d been through a lot that day, and there was no point in squabbling over where we were going to have dinner.
“California Pizza Kitchen?”
That sounded a lot friendlier. “Okay.”
Looking relieved, he led me away from the kiosk and toward the restaurant in question. It actually wasn’t all that far, and because we’d only barely nudged past six o’clock by that point, we were able to get a booth without even having to wait.
The waitress who came to take our order seemed way too cheerful, although I told myself that of course she couldn’t possibly know what I’d suffered through that day. Jake ordered a beer, and I — feeling somewhat reckless — asked for a glass of merlot. I knew next to nothing about wine, but I figured merlot sounded somewhat safe.
After she’d brought our drinks and took our orders for our meals — barbecue chicken pizza for me and a meat-laden Sicilian for Jake — she disappeared again. I reached for my glass of wine and sipped from it, not sure how I felt about the taste but damn glad of the relaxing effect it had as it slipped down my throat.
“Better?” Jake asked, and I nodded.
“A little.”
His expression was sympathetic. “I can’t even imagine what you’ve had to deal with today.”
Another sip of wine, mostly because I didn’t know how I was supposed to respond to that statement. “I’m surviving,” I said, my tone flat, letting him figure out that I wanted to leave the topic behind. “What did your brother say?”
Jake set down his beer, his gaze slipping past me. I could tell he didn’t want to make eye contact. Still, he startled me by saying, “Your house is gone.”
“What?” My fingers had started to tremble, so I put down my glass of wine as well, then clenched my hands in my lap where they couldn’t be seen. “What do you mean, it’s gone?”
“There was an explosion soon after we left. The fire department’s preliminary report was that the gas was left on and a candle burning nearby ignited it…but we both know that’s not what really happened.”
I swallowed, even though the lump was back in my throat. “Agent Lenz?”
Jake nodded. “I’m sure he did it to cover up your mother’s death. In a place like Kanab, nobody’s going to dig too hard into something that looks like a tragic accident. But your mother was…recovered…and is in a local funeral home.”
Well, that was something. A cold piece of reassurance, yes, but it still helped to know that my mother was now resting someplace where people would treat her with dignity. “And me?”
“They’re still trying to figure that out. They don’t think the fire was hot enough to completely incinerate a human body, but if you were in the kitchen when the gas ignited…it’s possible. That’s the theory right now. How else to explain your disappearance?”
How else, indeed? I was sort of surprised that no one had seen me take off with Jake, since our street had several stay-at-home moms, and you’d think that one of them might have spotted something out of the ordinary. Then again, maybe the crazy weather had made them stay inside, and they hadn’t emerged until the house blew up and rocked the neighborhood.
If nothing else, the explosion and my disappearance would provide a piece of gossip that should keep people busy for the next few weeks.
My mouth twisted in a lopsided smile. “So…I’m dead?”
“Not officially. But I think it’s safe to say that no one’s going to come looking for you.”
“Except Lenz.”
Jake picked up his beer and took a sip. “Except him,” he admitted with some reluctance. “However, Jeremy said he hadn’t detected any coordinated efforts at pursuit, so it sounds like we’re in the clear for now.”
“And Lenz?”
“Satellite shows a van pulled up to the house moments before it exploded. He left with two other men.”
So, the b
astard hadn’t died in the explosion. I hadn’t really expected to get off that easily, which was why I’d continued to think of him as a threat, but it sure would have been nice to know I didn’t have to worry about Randall Lenz any longer.
I leaned against the back of the booth and said, “‘Satellite’? Are you Wilcoxes running some sort of spy operation?”
Jake chuckled. “Not really. I set up a small organization dedicated to looking for people like you — people born to a parent with…gifts. My brother runs the tech side of things. Computers are his talent.”
Definitely a much handier power than mine. I knew I’d much prefer hacking surveillance satellites to inadvertently destroying property with tornadoes that blew out of nowhere every time I got angry about something.
“So…these talents don’t seem to have much rhyme or reason to them,” I remarked.
“None that we’ve been able to find. It’s not like you have all healers in one branch of the family or whatever. No one’s really been able to figure quite why our gifts manifest the way they do. And even though I said that you’re really powerful because your father was, that’s not necessarily how it works, either. Sometimes a really strong witch and warlock can have a child whose gifts are pretty weak by comparison.” He shrugged and picked up his beer, then added, “It’s sort of a crap shoot.”
“‘Crap’ being the operative word,” I said, and his mouth twitched slightly.
“I wouldn’t go that far. Weather-working is a very desirable gift. It’s just that you’ve never had a chance to train yours.”
We had to stop talking then, since the waitress came by with our pizzas and asked if there was anything else we needed. There wasn’t, so we thanked her and she went off to leave us alone with our food. It actually smelled wonderful, and my stomach woke up and told me it probably could do with some fuel right about then. For a few minutes more, Jake and I both remained quiet as we ate and washed down bites of food with beer and wine. Eventually, though, he settled against the back of the booth and offered me another of those smiles that made me think I might possibly be able to get through my current nightmare after all.
“We have a weather-worker who can help you,” he said. “And we’ll take care of anything else you need as well — a place to stay, a new bank account, new I.D. I know it’s going to feel strange at first, but we’ll do what we can to ease the transition.”
“Thanks,” I replied, even though I knew the word was completely inadequate to the situation. If I’d suddenly been gifted with the ability to travel in time, then I knew I would have gone right back to the moment when Agent Lenz’s gun had fired, would have jostled his arm so the bullet discharged harmlessly into the ceiling. But since it sounded like I was stuck with this one dubious talent, then I couldn’t deny that it was a huge relief to know I wasn’t going to be left stranded, that there were people who were willing to give me a place to land.
“You’re welcome,” was all Jake said, but I had a feeling he was able to guess at what I’d been thinking.
After that, we finished our meals, and he asked if I wanted to walk around the mall or go look at the sights. On any other day, I would have said yes immediately. Las Vegas had always been on my bucket list — not because I had any desire to gamble, but simply because I’d always wanted to see its glittering lights, to take in all the various theme hotels and attractions and shows.
That night, though, my heart was far too heavy for those sorts of diversions. I told Jake I was tired, and he only nodded and said it was probably better for us to hang out in the hotel room and then go to sleep early, since that way we could get on the road before much of the morning had passed.
It was sort of strange to plunk down on our respective beds and watch the latest Marvel movie on the in-room HBO…but at the same time, I was glad of the chance to sit there and make myself focus on the film and not what had happened earlier that day. When the movie was over, we both got ready for bed — to my relief, Jake wore a T-shirt and a pair of sweats, and so was pretty much covered up — and slipped under the covers after a hasty, awkward shared “good night.”
I lay there for a long while, staring at the ceiling. While the room was supposedly soundproofed, I could have sworn I was still able to hear the traffic on the street so many stories below. Or maybe it was my imagination manufacturing those sounds, since otherwise the room felt far too quiet. I thought Jake was asleep; his breathing seemed regular enough, even if he wasn’t snoring.
Stupidly, I was jealous of him, jealous of his ability to pass peacefully into slumber. Then again, his life hadn’t been torn apart. He hadn’t mentioned anything about his parents, but I got the impression that they must be still around, that — despite all of them being witches and warlocks — his family was a pretty normal one.
My mother’s face flashed into my mind’s eye — the laughing, pretty features of the woman who’d always been my entire world. She didn’t deserve what had happened to her. If she’d only come out into the living room a minute later….
I didn’t even realize I was crying until the first tear slipped down my cheek and dripped, ticklish and warm, into my ear. At once, I raised a hand to wipe it away, and for some reason, the mere act of doing so made a sob burst from my throat, even though I was doing my best to keep quiet.
Obviously, I hadn’t done a very good job of it, because Jake seemed to sit up immediately, the bedsprings creaking faintly as he moved. His voice came to me in the darkness. “Addie? Are you all right?”
“Uh-huh,” I responded, but the “huh” came out as a sort of hiccup as the next sob seemed to tear its way out of me.
Sheets rustled, and then my bed squeaked as he sat down on it. No words, only strong arms going around me. Just that simple human presence was enough to open the floodgates, and I burrowed my face in his shoulder and wept stormily, no longer trying to hold back, somehow knowing that the best thing to do was cry myself out.
Poor Jake. He sat there in silence, holding on to me as I sobbed, until at last the storm seemed to pass, and the tears gradually dried themselves.
I lifted my head. By then, my eyes had adjusted a little to the darkness, although the room was still very dim, and his face was only a pale blur. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be.” He’d stroked my hair a few times while he held me, but now he shifted slightly on the bed, as if realizing it was probably a good idea to put a little distance between us. “Don’t ever apologize for feeling something. It’s when you try to close it all off that it hurts the worst.”
For a second, I only sat there, pondering his words, thinking about the quiet tone of his resonant voice as he spoke in the darkness. The way he’d talked made me think that maybe he was no stranger to this kind of suffering.
At last, I said, “You lost someone?”
He didn’t answer right away. I heard a soft sound that might have been a sigh, and then he said, “Her name was Sarah. We were engaged.”
“I’m so sorry.” An automatic reply, but I was sorry for him. No one should have to endure that kind of pain.
“Thank you.” Another pause, and he went on, “It’s been almost three years. Most of the time, I’m okay. Then something comes along that reminds me of her, and it’s as if I’ve just heard the news for the first time.”
“What happened?” Maybe I shouldn’t have asked the question, but I had to wonder what would have taken a woman who could only have been in her early or middle twenties at the most. If witch clans had healers, then I doubted his fiancée could have been suffering from some kind of terminal illness.
“An accident. She went camping with some cousins. They were kayaking on the Colorado River. A monsoon storm came through, and the river flooded. They lost control of the kayak. The other two in the kayak survived, but Sarah…didn’t.”
Oh, God. I’d seen streams and rivers during monsoon storms, had seen how fast they could rise. It was probably a miracle that only one person had perished, but I wasn’t abo
ut to say such a thing to Jake.
Instead, I murmured, “I’m sorry” again, but I wasn’t sure he heard me. In a low voice, he continued.
“I sometimes wonder if I might have been able to help her if I’d been there. Maybe I could have used my gift to push the kayak to shore, or moved the boulder that shattered it out of the way….” The words trailed off, and this time I was the one to reach out and offer comfort, to lay a hand on his arm. I didn’t say anything, only hoped the presence of another person might reassure him. I didn’t know how successful I was, but I heard him pull in a breath. His hand covered mine for a second or two, warm and heavy. Then he withdrew it, and said, “Anyway, you’re probably trying to second-guess yourself as well. Don’t. There isn’t anything you could have done.”
“I know,” I said in a very small voice. That was the horrible truth. Maybe I couldn’t have answered the door, but the truth was, Agent Lenz probably would have just broken in if I’d ignored his knock. We’d been set on a collision course, and now the only thing I could do was try to pick up the pieces as best I could.
Jake patted me on the shoulder, then pushed himself up from the bed. “Try to sleep. We need to head out early tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I lay back down, and a moment later, I heard him settle himself on his bed, a rustle of sheets as he pulled the covers back up.
Silence fell. I didn’t know whether he dropped off to sleep again right away…or whether he lay there as I did, both of us straining against the darkness as we tried to come to terms with our pain.
6
They skipped the breakfast buffet and got bagels and coffee to go from the coffee shop in the hotel, and were on the open road by nine o’clock. Jake was relieved to see that Addie seemed subdued but calm enough that morning as they packed up their few belongings. She made no mention of the confidences they’d shared the night before, and he decided it was better not to bring up the subject. If she wanted to talk, he would be there for her, but he also understood how hard it could be when someone kept trying to force a dialogue when you didn’t want one. Her grief was still fresh and raw, and yet it seemed to him as though she was doing her best to come to terms with the loss of her mother and the way her world had abruptly shifted on its axis.
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