by I. T. Lucas
“I can make a killer kale salad.”
Syssi made a pouty face. “And you didn’t invite me to try it? Not nice.”
Even though it was meant as a joke, Bridget winced. Syssi had invited her on more than one occasion and treated her to cappuccinos and cocktails. She should reciprocate. “You’re right. I’ll check with Victor when is a good day for him and invite you guys to dinner. It's long overdue.”
Syssi waved a hand as she led Bridget to her desk. “Nonsense. You are way too busy to waste your time on cooking.” She pulled out a chair and motioned for Bridget to take it.
“Victor and I need to throw a housewarming party. Ingrid is going to be disappointed if we don’t. She wants to show off her work.”
“As if she needs any more showing off. She furnished and decorated the entire village.” Syssi pulled out a deck of cards and handed it to Bridget. “Flip through them, so you’ll know what to expect when I pull one up.”
Bridget made quick work of it and returned the cards. “Regardless. I want to invite a few people to our place. I’m still getting used to living outside the keep. Having some of you come over will make me feel like I’m still connected.”
“I can check with Okidu and see if he has time to cook for you. That would solve the problem.” Syssi lifted a card, showing Bridget the blank back. “What’s on the other side?”
“A flower,” Bridget said. “I would love to have Okidu for a day.”
“It’s a ladder.” Syssi flipped the card to show Bridget that it looked nothing like a flower. “I’ll let you know about Okidu.”
“Thank you.”
Syssi pulled out another card. “And this is?”
“A beach ball.”
“Close. It’s a balloon.”
Bridget clapped her hands. “Yay, I was close.”
“Not really. Do you want to see how Turner is doing?”
“Yes, I’m sure his results are more interesting than mine.”
Bridget jumped as the lab door opened with a bang, relaxing a moment later when she saw who it was.
Kian strode in with Anandur and Brundar in tow. “What did I miss?” He looked at Syssi as if there was no one else in there but her.
“Nothing, we just started.” She stretched on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
Obviously, that wasn’t enough for Kian, and he wrapped his arms around her middle, picked her up, and kissed her mouth.
Anandur snorted. “Do you guys want to go home? Or should I find you a room?”
“Shut up.” Brundar flicked the back of his head. “Show some respect.”
Anandur smirked. “I’m not going to retaliate because it’s not your fault you suffer from a serious disability—absolutely no sense of humor.”
Shaking her head at the brothers, Bridget walked up to Turner’s station.
He was so focused on his task that he didn’t even notice that she was standing right next to him.
“How is he doing?” Bridget asked Amanda, who was watching over his shoulder.
“Spectacular. Even those who have talent start strong and then falter as time goes by. It’s a boring, repetitive task. Victor just gets better.”
“That’s because I figured out the machine logic.” Clicking away, he didn’t shift his eyes to look at either of them.
“It’s called random images because it's randomized. You can’t figure it out.”
“That’s what you think.”
They watched him guess everything correctly for a few more minutes before Amanda stopped the test. “I don’t think we can learn anything more by continuing. Let’s try something different.”
Bridget glanced at Syssi, who was still busy with her husband. Obviously, Kian hadn’t come to watch Turner take his tests. He’d come to visit Syssi at work, using Turner as an excuse.
Amanda beckoned Victor to follow. “The telepathic testing is usually done by Syssi, but my assistant seems to be busy at the moment.” Amanda motioned for Victor to take the seat Bridget had vacated a few moments ago, and picked up the same deck of cards.
“I’m going to pick up a card, look at the picture, and try to communicate the image to you.”
Turner rolled his shoulders as if he was getting ready for a sparring match. “Go for it.”
Amanda made a big production of shuffling and reshuffling the cards, then pulled one out, looking at it for a long moment before raising her eyes to Victors.
He squinted, and then shook his head. “I have no idea. Whatever it is, it’s not something you associate with pleasure. That’s all I know. Your pupils didn’t dilate.”
Amanda showed him the same drawing of a ladder that Syssi had shown Bridget before. “You’re right. I don’t like ladders. It’s bad luck to walk under one.”
Victor seemed uncomfortable. Her guy had an obsessive need to excel at everything. But even though it was an unhealthy attitude, and he should be able to deal with disappointment, Bridget knew Amanda had made it unnecessarily difficult for him. “Syssi showed me the pictures so I would know what to expect. You didn’t show Victor the cards.”
“Right. I told you this is not one of the tests I do.” Amanda pulled another stack out of the drawer. “These cards have pictures that are more emotionally charged. A weak telepath might have difficulty with inanimate objects and specific words, but he or she can sometimes sense the feelings behind the images.” She handed Victor the cards. “Flip through them but don’t look for too long.”
“Okay.” After a few moments, he handed her the cards back.
She pulled one out and lifted it up.
“A sunny day at the beach.”
“Correct. Next.”
“A boat on a stormy sea.”
“Correct. Next.”
“A plate of chocolates.”
“Wrong.”
He leaned forward. “What is it?”
She showed him.
“I was right.”
“No, you weren't. This is a goblet filled with ice cream and berries.”
“But it was something that made your pupils dilate the most. It was something you craved.”
“Is that how you guessed the other cards?”
He nodded. “I knew what was in the selection. The next thing was to watch your reactions to what was pleasing or conversely disturbing to you and to what degree. Your pupils and your breathing pattern told me the rest.”
Amanda put the cards down. “I’ve never encountered someone who was too smart for testing. I think I need to invent new ones for smart alecks like you.”
“There is no one like me.”
“And modest too.”
“I’m being honest.”
“Yes, you are.”
Finally letting go of his wife, Kian walked over and put his hand on Turner’s shoulder. “Anything interesting to report?”
Amanda looked up at her brother. “Victor is not normal, but I’m not sure it is in a paranormal way.”
If Kian was confused by what she was trying to say, he hid it well. “Nothing conclusive then, I assume.”
“Not yet. There are a few more tests I want to run, but I don’t expect different results. Victor has a way of deducing things by using his observational skills and his logic. It’s going to be difficult to ascertain what exactly helps him solve the problems, a paranormal ability or a superhuman one.”
5
Turner
It had gone quite well, Turner thought. He might have not exhibited true paranormal abilities, but he hadn’t failed the tests either. Kian had been impressed and so had Amanda.
On the drive home, Bridget had been preoccupied and hadn’t said much. She’d listened to him recounting the various tests and his success or lack thereof. The rest of the time she’d seemed deep in thought.
“Would you like me to make you a drink?” he asked as they entered the apartment.
She plopped on the couch, kicked her shoes off, and tucked her feet under her. “Yes, please. It’s time for dinner,
but I’m not hungry yet. Are you?”
“Not really.”
Bridget smiled and patted her belly. “Lunch at Gino’s is enough for the entire day. The portions are huge. I think I’m good until tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, me too.” Turner mixed Bridget’s new favorite cocktail, the one Syssi had introduced her to, and poured himself a scotch. “Here you go.” He handed her the drink and sat on the couch next to her.
She untucked her feet from under her and put them in his lap.
That was his cue to start massaging. His woman loved her foot rubs.
“I was thinking,” Bridget started. “The tests results are inconclusive. Your impressive powers of observation and your training notwithstanding, I’ve noticed that sometimes you answered before even seeing the card, and you were right.”
Turner sighed. “It’s neither here nor there. I don’t even know why Kian insisted on the testing. You said yourself that not all Dormants have paranormal abilities.”
She shrugged. “Kian wants to explore every avenue before committing to a course of action. He doesn’t like uncertainty and strives to minimize the guesswork before making a decision. It’s like you and mysteries. You won’t rest until they are solved, and those that are unsolvable bother the heck out of you.”
Interesting. Maybe he had more in common with Kian than he’d suspected.
Turner switched to Bridget’s other foot, concentrating his efforts on her toes and watching with satisfaction as her eyes rolled back in her head. Hey, he might have invented a new interrogation technique. It seemed foot massages were the perfect way to get information out of a woman. “The other indicator you mentioned, affinity, how do you measure that?”
“I can’t. It’s subjective. The best we can do is to expose a suspected Dormant to as many immortals as we can and see how they respond. Usually, Dormants and immortals feel at home with each other. They feel like they belong to the same tribe.”
“Is that why you’ve been dragging me to the café to meet people?”
She chuckled. “No, I just wanted you to socialize. You need someone to push you out of your comfort zone. Even if you’re a Dormant, people won’t feel an affinity toward you because you act too standoffish. You need to smile more and not look like you’re suffering when I drag you into conversations.”
“You make me sound like an ogre.”
She patted his arm. “Not an ogre, more like a secret agent—an aloof 007 type.”
“I lack certain qualities that make James Bond sexy. He is a suave and charming womanizer. I’m not.”
“You are suave.”
“Thanks to a makeover by Brian.”
“I want to meet that guy. He sounds fascinating.”
Turner tensed. “You said that about me.”
“Oh, Victor.” She laughed and leaned to kiss his cheek. “You are the most fascinating man I know. You’re incomparable. But you made Brian sound so interesting, and I’m curious. I haven’t met any of your people other than Alice.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Wasn’t going to happen.
By her doubtful expression, Bridget was onto him. “Right. When?”
“I don’t know. My staff are officially on vacation. All but one of my cases are closed, and even that one is in the wrapping up stage.”
It was a reminder that his time was running out. As soon as that last case was closed, he was supposed to go forward with the induction.
Bridget was still trying to convince him to restart the chemo instead of attempting transition first, but she wasn’t as adamant about it as she’d been before. He had a feeling she was doing so to postpone the inevitable and gain a little more time with him.
The thing was, his resolve wasn’t as strong as it used to be either. Being with Bridget was too good to give up, and he was tempted to employ some delaying tactics of his own.
On his part, he’d used the open jobs as an excuse, dragging things out that could have been finalized a long time ago. Resuming the chemo, though, was out of the question. It robbed him of his vitality and his sex drive, and that was not how he wanted to spend his last days with Bridget.
If he died during his transition, he wanted her to remember him as he was now, strong, sharp, and virile. In that regard, nothing had changed. He still refused to be subjected to a prolonged convalescence. It was a full on or a full off.
“I want you to think back, Victor.” Bridget pulled her foot out of his hands and tucked it under her bottom. “I’m sure you can remember an instance or two where you acted on instinct and succeeded not because of your careful planning but because of some hidden variable. Everyone has those moments in their lives. Even people who have absolutely no abilities.”
He took another swig of his drink. “There is something, but it’s more nothing than something. I don’t want you to get hung up on it.”
“Just tell me.”
“I have a method.” He chuckled. “Well. Of course, I do. I’m a very methodical fellow.”
“Go on.”
“After I’m done with assembling all the components, and all the small bits and pieces of information are arranged to my satisfaction, I sleep on it before finalizing my plan. Usually, I wake up in the morning with the plan fully formed and ready in my head. All I have to do is write it down. Naturally, I rework it several more times until I’m satisfied that there is no way to improve anything, but that first draft is generated by what I call my subconscious autopilot. I don’t think there is anything magical about it. The brain keeps working while we are asleep, and without outside stimuli it focuses on the last input it got, which in my case are the mission details.”
“What do you see when you wake up in the morning? Is it a typed up page? A map? What?”
“In my dreams, the mission unfolds from beginning to end, and when I wake up, I remember everything. It’s like I’m watching a movie.”
“Does everything work out exactly according to the dream?”
“Yes. I even know who is going to make it and who is not. I always hope to be wrong about those who do not, but unfortunately, I’m always right.”
Bridget straightened her back and leaned toward him. “That’s not analytical thinking, Victor. This is precognition. Otherwise, not everything would’ve worked out exactly like in your dreams. It’s impossible. You must realize that it’s not logical to think you can deduce the outcome. I can accept you foreseeing several outcomes with one of them materializing, that is reasonable, but you dream only one scenario, right?”
He nodded. “But it doesn’t work this way with anything else in my life.”
“That’s because you don’t spend every waking moment thinking about those other things. Even paranormal ability needs a proper neural pathway to manifest. To make an analogy, the ones you utilize for mission planning are the size of freeways, while everything else travels through narrow dirt roads.”
“You mean that if I want to win the lottery, all I need is to think about it all day long, then go to sleep and dream about the winning numbers?”
She smiled. “Did you try?”
“When I was young and foolish.” He lifted a finger. “Once.”
“You should try it again. Maybe this time it will work.”
Turner took Bridget’s hand and kissed the back of it. “There are more important things at stake than winning the lottery. If I go to sleep and dream of what I need to do to transition successfully, that would be worth the leap of faith.”
6
Julian
“You don’t have to move out, Julian.” Sharon crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. “I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay.”
He touched a finger to the crease between her brows. “Stop frowning. You’ll get wrinkles.”
“I won’t. I’m immortal now.”
Yeah, and she was taking it all too lightly. Sharon was acting as if she’d changed nationalities, not species. He wanted to tell her that she wasn’t in Kansas or Canada but in
a different reality.
Except, that was a conversation for another time. Right now Julian was more concerned with getting out without her throwing a major fuss. It seemed that in the short time they’d cohabited, Sharon had adopted him as a brother.
“Bhathian is also immortal. Do you want to look like him? That scowl of his is permanently etched on his face.”
Sharon was not easily distracted. The switching topics technique that worked on most people didn’t work on her. “And so are you, so there is nothing you need to hide from me, or me from you. Stay, you really don't have to do this. Both Robert and I like having you here. Did we ever make you feel like a third wheel?”
“I know that I don’t have to go, but I want to. Do you think it’s fun for me to watch the two of you making kissy faces at each other? Gross.” He affected a shiver.
Robert came out of the kitchen and wrapped his arm around Sharon. “Stop harassing Julian. It’s an opportunity to live alone he will not have again. Bachelors are not given their own apartments in the keep, or houses in the village. Everyone has to share.”
“Exactly. My mother moving in with Turner is the only reason I can have her place to myself. And that’s temporary, only until everyone else relocates to the village.”
Sharon let out a breath and sat at the dining table. “As long as it is about what you really want and not about feeling like we don’t want you, that’s okay. But I’m going to miss having you around. You’re fun.”
“It’s not like I’m moving across town. You’re going to see me every day at the café.”
“I’m holding you to it.” She wagged her finger at him. “By the way, Carol said she is not moving to the village. She wants to go back to her old house.”
Robert paled and ducked into the kitchen.
Had the keep’s rumor machine caught up to Sharon?
Did she know about Robert’s short-lived fling with Carol?
It had been more than a fling, but Julian was going to stick to that version if Sharon ever asked.
“Carol is just talking. She is going to the village because someone needs to manage the new café over there.”