by Jus Accardo
“Dez…” Kale moaned, rolling onto his side. It took a few tries, but he managed to get on his knees as the man made a swipe for my arm.
A few feet away, Kale was tugging on the hoodie. That was fine. I only needed a tiny bit of skin.
Kicking out with my other foot, I caught the man’s shoulder. He let go of my ankle, and I dove for Kale. So did the man.
I reached him with about a half second to spare, grabbing his cloth-covered arm and yanking up the sleeve as I thrust out his bare hand. The man had built up too much momentum. He couldn’t stop. The tips of his fingers rammed into the top of Kale’s hand. There was an agonizing second where the man’s eyes went wide, and then he was gone. Nothing more than a shower of dust clogging the air.
On my feet, I grabbed Kale and pulled him up. He wobbled but stayed upright. “We have to go.”
…
The rest of Saturday passed slowly. We made it back to the hotel with the diary and no further signs of Denazen, even though I half expected them to be waiting to ambush us on the way in. Ginger swore the hotel was safe, but I wasn’t feeling it.
Luckily, when we’d gotten back, there’d been no one around. I helped Kale up to his room, and he crashed. While he was sleeping, I curled up on the chair next to his bed and went through the diary.
Layne Phillips knew she was adopted at an early age. As far as I—and she—could tell, her parents had no idea about her gift or connection to Denazen. At the age of ten, she discovered she could manipulate water. Five months ago, her gift changed. Not only could she manipulate water but its temperature, too. There was entry after entry of experiments logged—all with disastrous results. She’d tried to freeze a bathtub full of water and ended up freezing the water in the pipes of her house. Then, without realizing what she’d done, she’d tried to heat the water, causing the pipes to explode and the entire house to flood.
Another time, she turned on the outside hose and tried to use the water inside to control it, breaking four windows and smashing in the side of her mom’s car. The decline in her mental facilities was apparent at the end.
The experiments got stranger and less thought out. In one, she filled her dresser drawers with water. When it leaked out, she tried using her ability to put it back in, becoming frustrated when it leaked out again. Her last noted experiment detailed how she’d gone to Memorial Park after dark and tried to remove the water from the pond.
The more I read, the less sense the pages made. Layne became more paranoid. As far as I could tell, she’d never even been officially contacted by Denazen.
Early the next morning, I abandoned Kale’s room in favor of food. I’d dozed for a few hours here and there, but nothing much. Things inside my head were churning and wouldn’t allow for peace. The nausea seemed to have let up, and having not eaten anything substantial in the last few days, I was feeling peckish.
I pulled my hoodie tight around my shoulders and sank into the kitchen chair to try and get a bowl of cereal down. I’d been starving when I started, but after a few bites, the sugary puffs in the bowl were unappetizing and tasted stale. I shoved it to the side and eyed the diary, then the door. Twice Jade had poked her head in to see if Kale was there. If she did it again, there was a good chance I’d try to strangle her.
Kale was still out like a light, and I was getting fidgety. The diary left me a little confused. Wasn’t Denazen supposed to be raising these kids to believe in their glorified bullshit? From what I’d read, Layne Phillips seemed to have no idea who they were or what they were about. She did, however, know about Supremacy. That kind of stumped me till I’d gotten to the end of the journal. Three weeks before her birthday, she started having nightmares. A man appeared, telling her she was destined for great things. He told her all about the Supremacy project and that she’d been chosen. The poor girl had been convinced she was headed for the happy house.
“Hey.”
I pushed the diary aside and looked up. Kale was standing in the doorway, hair mussed and eyes bleary. For someone who’d gotten a lot of sleep, he looked beat.
“Hey, yourself.” I stood. “How do you feel?”
He stepped into the room, rubbing his head. “Fuzzy. Like I hit my head. Did I hit my head?”
I smiled and held out the uneaten bowl of cereal. Kale took it. “It’s the drug they use on the dart. It’ll go away. Promise.”
He took a bite and made a face. Not enough sugar. Kale was the only person on earth I’d ever met to use more sugar than me. He poured it over everything. I’d even caught him sprinkling it on toast a few weeks back. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He pushed the bowl away and leaned forward. “You’re holding your shoulder.”
Crap. The pain was pretty much a constant now. The temperature shifts still came and went, but they’d subsided in frequency and strength. I wanted to feel good about this—hoping it proved Dad was lying, and I was getting better without help. “Oh. Yeah, slept wrong. Spent the night in the lounge chair in your room.”
For a second I was sure he’d call bullshit, but he nodded. “Did you find anything in the book?”
I snorted and grabbed it from the table. “Nothing useful.” Waving it back and forth, I smiled. It was Sunday. I was feeling crappy. Some Kale time might make things better. It technically couldn’t be kissy Kale time, but anything was better than nothing. I’d been thinking about it last night, and I’d finally worked up the guts to tell him what was going on. I wanted to do it before I lost my nerve. “Let’s sneak out and hit the hiking trails behind the hotel. I’m restless and could totally go for blowing off some steam. We can talk…”
He didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was with a frown. “I’m meeting Jade in a few minutes.”
“Meeting Jade?” I couldn’t stop my voice from rising. It was a stupid question, I already knew, but I asked, anyway. “What the hell are you meeting her for?”
“Ginger wants us to put in more hours of practice.”
“Of course she does,” I said. “Ya know, for someone who swears she won’t interfere in people’s lives, it looks like she’s doing enough of it from where I’m standing.”
“Am I interrupting something?” Jade appeared in the doorway looking like a teenage boy’s dream. Tight denim skirt, strappy sandals, and a top that looked like it belonged on a kindergartener. Someone hadn’t checked the weather outside.
“You’re always interrupting something,” I mumbled. Stepping up to Kale, I said, “Good luck with practice. Come see me after?”
He smiled. “You know I will.”
I wrapped my arms around his shoulder and pulled him close. He was watching me with a mix of hunger and fear. He knew what I was about to do. Part of him wanted it, and part of him was afraid. I knew, because it was exactly how I felt.
The instant our lips touched, I felt a sting. It started small—nothing more than a funky pins-and-needles numbness—but with each second I didn’t pull away, it grew sharper and harder to ignore. After a few seconds, his arms wound around my waist, fingers digging in to draw me closer.
I hoped Jade was getting this. Getting that she’d never be getting this.
It was Kale that broke the kiss. “That hurt, didn’t it?”
I wanted to tell him not to go, that I wanted to talk, but I couldn’t do it. The resolve I’d felt moments ago about coming clean about Able was already vanishing. There was a part of my brain that knew this was wrong. I’d never been an indecisive person, but I was bouncing around more with this one little thing than a rubber ball.
“Not at all,” I lied. To prove my point, I traced a line from his cheek to chin. “See? All good.”
The corner of his lip twitched and he smiled—but it was forced. He knew I was lying.
As he turned to follow Jade from the room, I clenched my fist and bit down on the inside of my lip to keep from crying out. It was almost as though Jade’s presence was barely affecting me at all anymore. How long before touching
Kale meant instant death—even with Jade in the room?
21
I didn’t see Kale again that night. When Mom came up to the room, she told me not to wait up because Ginger was making them work overtime.
Ginger was starting to piss me off.
The next day didn’t get any better. I was late again and woke to a loud country crap alarm. Mom was nowhere in sight. By the time I made it to the conference room, Alex, Kale, and Jade already had their noses buried in the books, and Ginger was giving me the if-you’re-late-again-you’ll-be-scrubbing-toilets glare.
It wasn’t until that evening that my mood improved.
I smiled at the girl looking back at me in the slightly steamed-up bathroom mirror. Her long blonde hair, streaked with deep burgundy chunks, hung in loose ringlets past her bare shoulders. The dress she wore, off-the-shoulder spaghetti straps with a fitted-lace bodice and slightly flared skirt that ended just above her knees, matched the streaks perfectly.
I couldn’t wear the dress like it was, but I wanted a minute to appreciate it as it was meant to be. Simple. Stunning. And allowing for some eye-popping skin candy to show.
Pushing my arms through the simple cotton shrug I’d bought along with the dress, I thought about my favorite shirt. A black satin peasant blouse I’d bought last year after falling in love with the sleeves. The shirt was long gone. Taken God knew where along with the rest of my things, but I could still picture it perfectly in my mind.
With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and concentrated. Really, I should have tried this before tonight, but getting a moment alone had been impossible. To keep me out of Kale and Jade’s hair, Ginger kept me hopping after school. I’d had chores and errands coming out my ears for the last week.
The skin on my shoulders and arms tickled as the fabric of the shrug shifted and twitched. When I dared open my eyes, I couldn’t help smiling. It wasn’t ideal—I was used to showing way more skin—but it was definitely pretty in a sweet, understated sexy kind of way.
My gift was now more visual then sensory. As long as I’d seen it, I could mimic it. This enabled me to change the shoulder straps, meshing the simple black shrug into an extension of the dress. The boring sleeves of the shrug now looked like the ones on my favorite peasant blouse, only in deep burgundy.
This covered my arms—and more importantly, my shoulder. No way would I be able to explain away the ugly, angry blotch Able had left. It had doubled in size, and the lines creeping from the center had thickened.
The neckline of the dress was still dangerously low—there were just some things I wasn’t willing to compromise for safety—and the length was still short, but the sleeves would make Mom feel a little better.
When she’d heard about our faux homecoming, she was more than a little concerned. She said bluntly that Kale’s and my obvious inability to keep our hands off each other would result in disaster. I’d assured her we’d be fine, but I could tell by the look on Kale’s face at the time he was worried, too.
Slipping a pair of strappy heels to my feet, I fluffed my hair and pulled open the door.
Mom was waiting on the other side.
“I still don’t like this,” she said, eyeing the dress. I tried to be careful not to show it to her when I’d brought it into the room. Other than Kiernan, I hadn’t told anyone about my newly improved mimicking skills. It probably wouldn’t worry them that much—I’d never told them about Dad’s visit to the post office or what he said about the advancement of Supremacy’s Sixes—but why invite trouble?
“It’ll be fine. We’ll be careful.” I did a little twirl. “What do ya think? Awesome, right?”
She frowned and took several steps back. “It’s red.”
“Nah. Burgundy. Totally different color.” It was my mission in life to cure her of her aversion to red. It was one of my favorite colors, and I wasn’t willing to give it up.
There was a knock on the door.
A moment later, Mom was ushering Kale into the room. He stepped forward, eyes glued to mine, and held out an armful of deep purple roses. “Curd said these will seal the deal.”
I took the flowers, trying hard not to laugh at the expression on Mom’s face. “Since when are you taking dating advice from Curd? More importantly, why are you taking dating advice from Curd?”
He frowned at the flowers. “Is this wrong?”
I glanced over my shoulder as Mom took the flowers and backed away. She busied herself with finding something to put them in.
“They’re perfect,” I said with a grin. “So, Curd?”
“We spoke at the party. He asked me if he could have Jade.”
I snickered. That was so Curd. “And what did you say?”
He looked kind of puzzled. “I told him of course. As soon as I was done with her.”
I should have been mad, but really, he had no clue what he’d said. “I’ll bet my right arm you’ve earned the respect of Parkview’s most renowned letch.”
“He did seem pleased.” He held out his hand, and I saw he was wearing black gloves. “You look really nice.”
“You, too.”
“Curd told me to say that, too.” He frowned again. “But I don’t like his way of saying it.”
“Oh?”
With his free hand, he brushed a gloved finger across my cheek. The satiny material was cool and smooth against my skin, and it made me ache for the warm, calloused touch of his bare hand. “Beautiful. You look beautiful.”
“I like your way better.”
His frown disappeared, blooming into a very satisfied smile. “Good.”
And just like that, all the Jade-tension melted away. How could I second-guess his feelings? The no-touching thing was no big deal. It was temporary. Trivial. Something like that couldn’t come between us. Especially not with him looking at me like he was. Like I was the only bit of light in a world full of dark.
There was another knock on the door. Against my will, I let go of Kale’s hand and pulled it open. Standing there, looking amazing in a strapless, shimmering green gown complete with dangerous slit, was my least favorite person on earth.
“Is Kale here?” She smiled and batted her overdone eyes. Red hair swept into a loose up-do with tiny tendrils artfully escaping, Jade looked like she belonged on a runway in Paris rather than the streets of Parkview. I looked good, but necessity had me stepping out in something way more conservative than usual. She had me beat in the drool-worthy department.
“Where else would he be?”
“He was supposed to meet me in the lobby five minutes ago.” She leaned around me as Kale came to the door. “Ready?” She beamed at him.
I whirled so fast that my head spun a little. “What does she mean, ready?”
Jade answered for him. “Reservations? The reason I’m wearing this killer dress?” Then, as an afterthought, she said, “Yours is cute, too. Sleeves are safer, huh?”
Then it hit me. “You’re bringing another girl on our first official date?”
For a second, Kale looked confused. Then he frowned. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”
I understood why Jade was tagging along. Really, I did. In fact, I should have seen it coming even before she showed up. It would be disastrous for Kale to go without her. All it would take was an accidental brush or a simple misstep, and someone’s life could easily be over. Still, even knowing that, I was annoyed.
I took his hand and pulled him out the door. “Let’s just say it won’t win you Boyfriend of the Year.”
The car ride was weird. Like something out a junior high first-date nightmare. Rosie drove us to the restaurant in her minivan. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Jade made a big stink about seating. She stated—in an annoyingly rational manner—that I should take the front seat. I didn’t want to start building up my resistance to her aura before the dance. It was safer that way.
Yeah. Her safety, maybe. Before the night was over, there was a very real chance I’d kill her and bury the body behind the restaurant.
>
We entered Flavour to find the place packed. Couples were crammed on the dance floor, swaying to the soft music of the band at the front of the room. Elegant, but not exactly my idea of a party.
I gave our name to the hostess, and she led us through the crowd, heading for the back of the room where Kiernan was already sitting.
She saw us and stood. “Hey, can I talk to you for two seconds?”
I glanced back at Kale and Jade, who’d already settled at the table. Next to each other. “I guess,” I grumbled.
Kiernan led me to the corner. Her face was flushed, and she looked ready to freak. “I have a favor to ask.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not about to ask for help moving furniture down a narrow set of steps?”
“I met this guy a few days ago on campus. We kinda flirted and, well, he was shy, so I asked him out.”
“So this is why you’ve been scarce lately, you little vixen!” At least that explained her ditching me. It didn’t help that she hadn’t told me, but at least there’d been a reason. “So you asked him out… Out as in here, tonight, out?”
“Yeah. Since Ginger invited me to your little homecoming stand-in, I thought I’d use it as a dry run. Hope that’s okay?”
“That’s great! Where is he? Is he hot?”
“He ran to the bathroom just before you guys came in. Should be back any second now.”
“So what’s the favor?”
“Just try to make him feel comfy? I think I really like him. We’ve talked on the phone for hours, and we have a ton in common. This is, like, one of the best things that’s happened since…”
Since we’d convinced her to leave her home and everything she’d ever known. A pang of guilt washed over me. Kiernan was a little rough around the edges, so we all sometimes forgot how hard all this was on her. The one thing I’d learned fast was that she kept a lot hidden. She wasn’t an emotional sharer, so for her to be coming to me about this guy like this, it had to be pretty big.