by Lisa Amowitz
Gideon eyed me coolly. “Tomorrow we will have a meeting to discuss your education in earnest, Beth. For now, you should get plenty of rest. It will be a rigorous and demanding training, but quite rewarding, should you achieve the goals set out for you.”
“Sounds great.” I didn’t ask what would happen should I not meet those goals. I’d caused enough excitement for one day.
Gideon frowned and cut a sideways look at Vincent. “I’ll be monitoring the situation carefully. Any slip-up or incident and you will be held accountable, Vincent.”
Just as a black smudge began to form in the space above Gideon’s head, Vincent grabbed me around the middle with both arms.
“Lucky for me I enjoy the work, sir,” he said. I shivered at the electric tendrils of heat that radiated up my spine. My back arched as my knees turned to water.
“I should take you back to your room now, I think,” he said, in my ear.
Despite the intensity when we touched, the atmosphere between us when we were apart had cooled. Walking back to my room, anger filled the empty spaces after the withdrawal of his touch, but I didn’t let on. I didn’t want Vincent doing any more macramé with my feelings tonight. I wanted to keep my rage, and hold it close to me. Without the meds to dull my emotions, I had no plans to replace them with a dose of Vincent.
“The problem is, Beth,” he said suddenly, as if we’d been talking all along, “that you can’t really hide how you’re feeling from me. Once I’ve Woven someone, I’m attuned to their frequencies. I can feel the anger emanating from you. To be very clear, I can see it, and it’s kind of blinding me right now.”
I turned on him, thinking I’d like to sock him in the jaw, but there was no fear in his eyes, only a glimmer of a smile. A very sexy one. My anger softened like butter in the sun. “What? What in creation are you talking about?”
“Your anger is visible to me, like threads in a loom. Right now, it’s pretty dense and it’s getting in my way. I can barely see around it.”
“That’s a pain in the butt. What does it look like?”
“It’s hard to describe. But I can tell that you’re already beginning to master your reactions. Probably because your Talent manifested only recently, it’s still easy to separate emotion from the killing impulse. That’s why it’s important to bring in Talented while we’re young.”
I was breathing fast, trying to stoke the bottled-up emotion that had rippled through my tendons only seconds before. But I was losing steam. Vincent smiled. Apparently he could see that, too.
“No fair, Yoda. You infected me with this craving for you, so no matter how angry I get, you know I won’t harm a single curl on your pretty head.”
“Since you put it that way. It’s one of the first things a Weaver learns—to neutralize his subject so dangerous Talents won’t lash out at us. But it’s always touch and go at first. Like playing with fire.”
“You could have died at any moment in the past few weeks. Bet you got a sick thrill out of that.”
Vincent laughed. “I wouldn’t call it a sick thrill. But it was kind of invigorating.”
“You’ve got a death wish.”
“Not at all. More like how a lion tamer enjoys the challenge.”
I glanced at him sideways. “It’s not like you’re out of the woods yet. I don’t really know you that well. I may find something to hate and strike you while you sleep.”
“I’m prepared to take my chances.”
We walked in silence, until I blurted, “So does this mean everyone in this school has some kind of freaky Talent with a capital T?”
“We really all do have legitimate artistic and musical abilities,” Vincent answered thoughtfully. “But to answer your question—yes. That’s why we are here. It’s kind of uncanny how the two kinds of Talent go hand in hand. And we get excellent training for those talents as well. High Step really does have annual performances for the public at the concert venue where your audition was held.”
I thought back to the night when Andre and I drove the two hours to Massachusetts and realized that I had no idea where the hell I was. Which might make getting home a little difficult.
“Crap. Fucking Andre! Does he—”
Vincent nodded slowly. “I’m betting you can guess what it is.”
I thought of Andre’s hand on my back, how the knots and tension always released at his touch. Andre’s touch. “His touch is magic.”
Vincent smiled. “Better than any high-priced massage.”
“Jeez. I always knew there was something supernatural about that boy. He’s way too good-looking to be human.”
“But we’re all human, Beth. Think of us as enhanced humanity.”
“Sounds like a great tagline. We should use it in our infomercials.”
Vincent chuckled, and I felt the tension between us ease up a little.
“What about Xavier? What’s his?”
Vincent stopped short, his brow furrowed. I laughed at him. “C’mon. Tell me you didn’t see that one coming. What is it? What’s Xavier’s freaky thing?”
Vincent grimaced, as if speaking about Xavier gave him indigestion. “His voice. It’s—it does things to people.”
“He’s a great singer, but how is that freaky? Does his singing make people rip off their clothes and run shrieking naked into the woods?”
Vincent laughed weakly. “As you might have heard, Talented who do not gain control over their abilities get sent elsewhere. And none of us knows where elsewhere is. Except Xavier. He was sent away. He came back changed. No one knows what was done to him or where he went. Just suffice it to say that before he left, he was a royal pain in the ass. Once again, I’m urging you to stay away from him and I hope you’ll listen.”
“So that’s where he got those scars.”
“No,” Vincent said. “He had those already.”
“How can a crazy-good voice be dangerous?”
Vincent did not smile, but instead tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “In our world, Beth, even the most innocent thing can be deadly.”
We walked in silence. The people we passed smiled at us, waving in a strangely enthusiastic manner. It dawned on me that they’d all been in on the secret from the start. Anger began to build inside me again, but I swallowed it down. I promised myself that no matter how hot Xavier was, and no matter how much I was drawn to Vincent, there was no way in hell I was spending my life as a prisoner in this compound.
Because if I was really that dangerous, who on earth was going to stop me?
16
WHEN WE GOT TO MY DOOR, LILA WAS THERE waiting, fighting to suppress a fit of giggles.
“So?” she said, hand over her mouth.
I glanced at Vincent and he shrugged.
“Everyone knows, Beth. We’ve been playing along. We all know the drill.”
“Nice,” I said flatly.
“A few of us come from Talented families. But most of us come from the Regular population, and integration is always a little touchy in those cases.”
“In my case, that may be the understatement of the century.”
Lila frowned slightly as if she’d just noticed Vincent glaring at her. “You can go now, Saint Vincent. I’m sure Beth can breathe perfectly well on her own. We have some girl business to attend to.”
Vincent stiffened. “I know what you’re thinking and I don’t recommend you try it.”
“You’re a poop, Rousseau. Go attend to the sick and the poor and leave Miss Collins to me.”
Vincent looked from Lila to me, clearly not happy with the situation. Someone called his name from down the hall and he waved. “Don’t make me regret this.”
Lila pursed her lips as we watched Vincent dash over to his waiting friend. “Such a kiss-up. Always trying to prove something to everyone. Kid’s got a complex,” she said, then turned to me and smiled impishly. “But he sure does have a cute butt.”
We giggled together. If I was going to be stuck in this place for the fores
eeable future, I was going to need as many friends as I could get. Besides, it was probably not a good idea to make enemies when they could potentially turn you into a toad.
“What’s got Vincent’s undies in a twist?”
“Never mind him. He worries about everything.” Lila ushered me into her room, which was directly across the hall. It was identical to mine, only neater. Instead of electric guitars there were an easel and paints. “Anyway,” Lila said. “In honor of your ‘coming out,’ I have a surprise for you!”
“Huh?”
Lila laughed. “As a Talented. We usually have a party called a Reveal to mark the occasion. So just close your eyes and sit at my desk. Don’t say another word. And no peeking!”
I sat, hands over my eyes and heard Lila pull back the drapes. A draft of bitter air swept into the room.
“Okay! Open wide!”
Flapping before me were four crows holding a teal silk dress in mid-air, the straps and hems in their beaks. They gazed at me brightly, as if waiting for my delighted approval, but I was too stunned to speak.
“Do you like it?” Lila asked, bouncing on her bed. “I wore it at my Reveal.”
“I-I—jeez. I don’t know what to say. I’ve been to some strange-ass clothing stores, but never one with flying hangers.”
Lila broke into peals of laughter. “I thought I’d show you the dress and my Talent all in one fell swoop.”
I was still staring at the birds. They blinked back at me, flapping mightily. My teeth started to chatter from the arctic blast. Lila nodded her head and the birds dropped the dress at my feet and winged out the window, diving off into the woods.
“Well?”
“The dress or the Talent?”
“Both,” said Lila, scooping the dress from the floor and dangling it in front of me. “I’m all about animals. They answer my call. Always have. It’s a handy skill.”
“Bet it is,” I said, still a little numb with shock. It was going to take a while to get used to this nuthouse, I thought. I was about to reach for the dress when the wall appeared to liquefy. A human form took shape in the liquid mass, and a boy materialized, then walked toward us. My hand flew to my chest. Roddy Zuber nodded approvingly at the dress dangling from Lila’s finger.
“Teal is definitely her color. But don’t get me wrong. You looked great in that dress, Lila.”
“Yeah, I did, right?”
I glanced from Lila to Zuber, saucer-eyed. “Wow,” I said.
“You guys are insane.”
“Nah,” said Lila. “We’re just like everyone else. Just slightly modified. C’mon. Try it on. They haven’t officially announced your Reveal, but at least you’ll be prepared.”
I swallowed hard. “Not to disappoint, but I put my clothes on the old-fashioned way.” I hooked the dress with one finger and headed for the bathroom, heart pounding wildly. It turned out the dress fit like it was made for me, hugging my curves in all the right ways.
“Whoa,” Zuber said.
Lila looked me up and down approvingly. “Very nice. But Lord knows what we’re going to do about shoes.”
“Isn’t there anyone here who can pull stuff out of thin air? That would be a handy skill.”
“That’s called a Fabricator,” Lila said. “They’re very rare. I hear there’s one of them somewhere. I’m guessing they fetch a pretty high salary.”
“Salary? You mean Talented get hired out?”
Both Lila and Zuber looked at me like I’d grown a horn in the middle of my forehead. “What’d you think? You’d just stay here playing school forever? There are tons of jobs for our kind. We are in high demand. Unemployment is at zero percent.”
“What kind of employment agencies place our kind?”
Lila smiled her cat smile. “Very discreet ones.”
I was back in my room, still wearing the dress at Lila’s insistence. She’d promised to either find a pair of matching shoes or get permission to take me shopping, a perk I wasn’t aware the inmates of the High Step Program were privy to.
I was about to unzip when there was a tentative tap, different from Vincent’s firm, determined knock. I opened the door to Xavier, who baldly looked me up and down. “That’s one hot nightgown.”
“It’s not a nightgown.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I know all about it. Party Girl is already planning your Reveal so she can smuggle in drinks and get Demetri Prishkin wasted.”
I stepped out of his way. He entered and plopped on my desk chair. “Drunk Talented are a scary thought,” I said.
“Which is why it’s not allowed. The punishment is pretty harsh if you get caught,” he added, his voice catching slightly.
“Is that what happened to you?”
Xavier didn’t answer. Instead, he wandered around my room and stopped to admire my three guitars. He lovingly stroked the sleek body of the blue electric with his good hand. “Nah,” he said. “That’s kid stuff to me.”
“So,” I said, conversationally, “It’ll be dinnertime in an hour and I’ve got to get out of this dress.”
Xavier turned to me, lips crooked up in a half-grin. “I can help with that.”
“Very funny. Tell me why you’re really here. There’s something on your mind. What is it?”
Xavier’s expression changed, the cockiness replaced by the briefest flash of longing. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them the darkness I’d glimpsed was gone. “I just want to hear you play. Rumor has it that you’re amazing.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Who’s been spreading that around?”
“No idea. But if you play, maybe I’ll sing a little.” Xavier’s hands were on his hips, his head tilted.
“Okay. Sure. Kind of weird timing, but why not?”
“It’s the perfect time for me,” Xavier said, one cobalt eye burning into mine.
His hungry gaze scared me a little, and I questioned my judgment for ignoring Vincent’s repeated warnings. But here in my dorm I couldn’t imagine a guy with a super-powered voice as a threat.
I got my acoustic and plopped on the bed. “What do you want to hear?”
Xavier dragged over his chair. The sheaf of jet-black hair covered half his face as usual, and again I wanted to ask how he got those scars and what he’d done to get sent away. But I didn’t expect to get a straight answer, so there was no point in bothering.
“Something that matters to you.”
I shrugged. It had been a few weeks, but something made me want to play “Fragile Forever.” Ever since coming here, my memories of Sam had been steadily fading. It was almost like he’d died twice. I strummed the first chord and a tear escaped and slipped down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly so Xavier wouldn’t see.
If he’d noticed, he showed no sign of it. He watched intently as I sang and picked at the strings, my voice hoarse from disuse. I was pretty sure I sounded like crap, but Xavier barely blinked, either to show approval or to show that I sucked.
Without warning, he joined in, the miraculous tenor curling around my raw soprano like tendrils of sunlight. I didn’t want to stop playing to ask how he knew this song. I just wanted to let the ethereal intensity of his voice hum inside every cell of my body.
The hard lines of Xavier’s face smoothed out as he sang. He was transformed, angelic in his rapt concentration. I was so weak with the beauty and majesty of his voice, I almost forgot to keep playing. But I forced myself to continue so he didn’t stop, wondering what exactly the true power of his voice was, other than being the most beautiful sound on earth.
Shadows like smoke filled the space between us, but I didn’t want to stop. They thickened, growing more distinct, and took on the shape of something tiny and winged. We kept singing, though Xavier’s face showed signs of strain.
He stopped abruptly, the color drained from his face. The winged shadow vanished.
“What on earth was that?”
Xavier’s visible eye was glassy, darting wildly. I wasn’t sure what he was looking at.
“D-do you have that button? Here in the room?” he choked out, his voice strained and raspy.
I frowned. “Yeah. Why? Are you okay?”
Xavier’s eye fluttered and rolled up into his lid so I saw the white. “Shit,” he murmured. “I didn’t think it would…” He stopped midsentence, interrupted by a hacking cough. Pulling a white handkerchief from his back pocket, he pressed it to his mouth. Bright crimson bloomed around his lips. Eyes closing, Xavier looked like he was about to keel over.
“Oh, God,” I shouted. I rushed for the door, but Xavier flailed out and managed to grab me by the wrist.
“Please,” he begged. His eyes were unfocused and fluttering as though he was fighting to stay conscious. And losing. “Get Zuber,” he whispered.
By the time I got back with Zuber, Xavier was sprawled on the floor, eyes glazed over and unseeing, coughing softly. Blood trickled from the corner of his slack mouth.
I was in full panic mode, ready to run for the nurse or whatever, but Zuber stopped me. “Don’t. I can handle this. It’s nothing new. I just don’t get why he risked this.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“His punishment for misuse of a regulated Talent. He knew this would happen. Other than his performance at the weekly review and his daily lessons, he’s forbidden to sing. His voice has been classified as a lethal weapon. It’s why he was sent away in the first place.”
“How can something so beautiful be lethal? He didn’t hurt me.”
Zuber patted the blood away from Xavier’s mouth with the deft motions of someone who’d done it before. “The effects aren’t obvious at first. But I’m not sure why he’d want to subject himself to this.”
I gazed at Xavier. He rolled to his side, moaning softly.
“This is cruel. It looks like he’s in pain.”
“He is. That’s the point,” Zuber said gravely. “But I know what to do.”
Though Xavier was much bigger than he was, Zuber hefted his limp body over his shoulder and disappeared through my wall.
17
ISLIPPED OUT OF LILA’S DRESS AND INTO MY SWEATS.