She rubbed her eyes and sank down on the bed. First Merran and now Greg. Did all Azellian men like to mess with people’s heads? “All right. Start over. Let’s pretend I did reach you using proven means. You offered to show me about these supposed abilities. Are you still willing to do so?”
“Sure.”
“When?”
“Whenever you want.” Greg straightened and leaned back. He put his arm across the back of the chair. Tamara tried to ignore the way his t-shirt pulled across his chest. What was wrong with her? She was not normally so super-sensitive to guys. Greg wasn’t nearly as cute as Alarin or as handsome as Merran. So why was she reacting so strongly to all the Azellian men? “Although I would suggest sooner rather than later.”
Unease curled through her, settling in the pit of her stomach. “Why?”
“Why what?”
She took a deep breath. “Why soon?”
“So you are comfortable with us as quickly as possible.” Greg’s voice was too carefully controlled to be casual despite his effort to appear nonchalant.
The dream returned to her. The call … the screams. What have I done? Freak child! Let it go. You know you want to …
Greg leaned forward again, his eyes intent, obviously picking up something of her discomfort. “What is it, Tamara?”
She was suddenly dizzy. The bed twisted underneath her, a roller coaster ride of terror. Onetwothreefourfive! Onetwothreefourfive! “Can you read my mind?” Did I just say that out loud? she asked herself.
Greg came off the chair, kneeling in front of her, his hand resting on the bed beside her. “What did you say, Tamara?”
She cleared her throat. “Can you read my mind?” He couldn’t possibly say yes. Could he? He said no, but not for the reason she expected. “Not at the moment. You’re shielded pretty heavily right now.”
“Shielded—what’s that?”
His oddly colored amber eyes held hers. “It’s what we call it when we block ourselves from receiving external input from other people’s thoughts and emotions.”
“Am I always?”
“Sometimes you are as open as any other human. You seem to be showing signs similar to what we Azellians call Awakening.”
“Awakening?”
Greg leaned back on his heels, although he did not release her gaze. “That’s what we call it when someone, usually a child on Azelle, is not yet able to use the energy of psi, when the mental pathways are still dormant. Awakening, the channeling of the energies of psi through those neural pathways, usually coincides with puberty and one’s first sexual experience.”
She jumped at that. “Always?” Freak child! He’s dead, he’s dead! Onetwothreefourfive!
“Not always. But it’s the most common way.” He was very still, like he was afraid she would jump up and run away. His gaze sharpened slightly and grew a little more intense. “For most Azellian children Awakening is highly sexual in nature.”
“Does it ever go away once it’s started?”
“Not that I’ve ever seen, but I suppose it’s possible.”
She shrugged, feeling fragile—like she might break. She looked away. What have I done? “Can something force it back or prevent it from being completed?”
Greg shifted forward and touched her chin, turning her face toward him. She refused to meet his eyes. “What happened, Tamara?”
She pulled away, tears welling up in her eyes. “It was an accident. Natural causes. That’s what they said. I knew better.” She took a deep breath and looked at Greg, willing him to tell her the truth. “Can these abilities kill?”
Greg blinked and was silent for a moment. “They can be used for that purpose, yes.”
He’s dead! He’s dead! “Then I killed him.” She closed her eyes.
Greg touched her face again. His fingers were warm—but it was the compassion in his voice that made her open her eyes again. “Tell me what happened, Tamara.” He lowered his hand.
She took a deep breath. “I was seventeen, nearly eighteen. He was twenty. Mom and Dad didn’t approve of him. He was totally in love with me, he said.” She laughed then, a hollow sound to fill the abyss. “Don’t tell me, I know. It’s taken me some time, but I know that was a line. Who can be completely and totally in love in high school anyway?”
Greg said nothing, but he continued to meet her eyes steadily. No sign of the suppressed, and sometimes not so suppressed, fear and horror she’d seen from everyone else who knew. But you don’t know the whole story, she said to him mentally, as if he could hear her. Just wait.
She continued the story. “It was prom night. I agreed to go back to his hotel room with him. I wasn’t sure, but I knew that he wanted it and Mom had had the ‘be careful lecture’ with me when I started going out with him. So I knew what to do to avoid both pregnancy and disease and I thought we could chance it.” She found the words coming easier, in the sympathetic atmosphere Greg somehow managed to generate. His silence was supportive and caring—not judgmental—although what he was doing differently from anyone else who had been a part of that drama three years ago she didn’t know. She’d run from the event, switched schools rather than face the rumors at the high school she’d been attending. It had made graduating a bitch, but she’d managed it. It had helped to bury herself in her studies.
“He was thrilled, of course. We had a whole evening planned—I was even somewhat excited about it. He was cute, it was my last year in high school, and all the other girls were talking about their experiences already.” She took a deep breath. “I found myself really dizzy at the prom and there was all this noise … like … inside my head. People talking, voices overwhelming me. I’d had these moments previously, and they were usually followed by a horrible migraine that made me sicker than a dog and kept me in bed for a few days. Like last night, only you made it go away fast, much faster than usual.” She looked at Greg. “During the prom, I was afraid that I was going to have a really bad migraine and it would end my plans for the evening. So I got Doug to bring me back to the hotel when I was still hearing voices and noises and trying not to act too crazy.” She looked away. “I could tell he was really, really excited and it made me more excited. Like I couldn’t quite tell the difference between my own excitement and his.” She closed her eyes and struggled to continue the story. “I started to get a little scared. But I kept going. We went to the hotel room and I thought I was going to burst. Doug started to kiss me and I just exploded in my head. The next thing I knew, he was lying on the floor with his eyes rolled back in his head and I was screaming.” Her hands were shaking, although this was the first time she’d ever been able to tell the story without freaking out. That oddity was enough to keep her together.
Greg continued to look at her with quiet acceptance, his amber eyes still clear of that fear she’d seen in everyone else’s eyes. “What did they say killed him?”
“Cardiac arrest. He was brain dead when he got to the hospital. The coroner ruled it an accident.” She took a deep breath. “My grandmother called me a freak. My parents were … caring. I hated myself for a long time. The psychologist I went to told me it was a freak accident and that my guilty feelings were normal. That there was no way I could have been responsible for his death, but that I would feel that way because I was there when he died.” She stared down at Greg. “It was my fault, though, wasn’t it? I did that to him. At least those horrible migraines went away. Until last night anyway.”
Greg reached out to brush his fingertips against the back of her hand. “It wasn’t your fault, Tamara. No more than if you threw a ball to him and it hit him in the head and killed him. It was an accident. Nothing more.”
“But it’s starting again, isn’t it?” The brush of fingers against her hand was soothing—much more so than they should have been. Was he doing something to her? Had he been doing it all along? Was that why she was much calmer telling the whole story to him?
“Maybe, I don’t know. But I’d like to help you.”
�
��Help me? How?”
“Watch.” Greg lifted a hand and extended it to the desk. She could feel his eyes on her as a pen on the surface lifted slowly above the desk and floated gently through the air toward them. Fascinated, she stared at the levitating pen, her breath catching in her throat. “Go ahead, touch it,” he said gently. “It won’t hurt you.”
Fear, mingled with excitement, rose in her throat. “I … no. I can’t.” The pen floated closer, bumping the back of her hand. She shivered at its touch, but it felt normal—like any other pen, despite its gravity- defying position. Greg’s fingers gently brushed the back of her hand. Waves of calm flowed through her at the touch and nothing seemed all that frightening anymore. She touched the pen and it bounced lightly—up and down, up and down. “What happens if I pull it out of the air?”
“Try it and see.”
She pulled the pen out of the air. It felt like a normal pen, heavy in her hand. She lifted it, and when she let go, it fell to the bed with a thump. “Hey!”
Greg smiled and the pen abruptly jumped up again, floating lightly in front of her face. “We call this telekinesis,” he said. “All Azellians can do it to an extent, but there are some that are stronger than others, with wider ranges. I can only affect objects that I can see. Mellis, however, can affect objects she not only can’t see but are many miles away.”
Tamara pulled the pen out of the air and rubbed the smooth cylinder. “Are there other talents, too?”
“Oh, there are lots of Azellian psi talents. Far too many to list right now, but yes, mind reading … we call it telepathy … is one of them. All of us are telepathic to some extent. It’s how Merran contacted me this morning to tell me you had called him looking for my number.”
She shivered, remembering the night before, and, for the first time, that awful night three years ago. “But isn’t it overwhelming to hear everyone’s thoughts? I mean, if that’s what happened to me last night, it was awful.”
Greg shook his head. “No, we learn how to shield ourselves from unwanted thoughts. It’s part of our training. Would you let me show you what we can do?”
Tamara studied the pen lying innocuously on her bedspread. She bit her lip. “I’m scared,” she murmured.
Greg didn’t touch her, but her chin lifted anyway. She met his eyes. “Am I scary?”
“No, not at all.” Surprisingly, that was true. Greg was the least threatening person she’d ever met, even despite his display of non-human ability.
“Then get to know us, spend time with us. Take it one step at a time.”
“Us? As in you Azellians?”
“Yes, we Azellians.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Okay.” She looked up at him. It was easy to trust him. The decision, once made, felt surprisingly good. “Now what?”
Greg got to his feet. “Have you gone to breakfast yet?”
She blinked at him. “Breakfast?”
“Yes, the meal beings eat in the morning? Or don’t humans eat breakfast?”
“No, we eat breakfast, I was just … no I haven’t gone to breakfast yet. Why?”
“Well, I’m hungry. Are you?”
“Yeah, kind of.”
“Come on. Let’s grab something to eat then. I’ll tell you about our crew as we walk over to the cafeteria,” he said as she got to her feet. “Merran’s misfits we used to call ourselves. Since none of us were exactly team players, we all sort of gravitated around Merran, who’s always been something of a maverick misfit himself.”
Tamara blinked at him as they walked toward the door and she pulled it open. “The ambassador? You know him personally? I mean, as more than just a fellow Azellian?”
“Certainly. We’re all actually very good friends. Have been for years … since we Awakened,” he said as they walked down the empty, quiet staircase toward the front door and outside.
“What kinds of things did you do?”
“Oh you know, the usual. Swimming, playing, talking, school, sex. And more sex. At least until I went into Healer training. After that I had to get creative about spending time with them. Healers are somewhat isolated from the rest of the population.”
Tamara blushed furiously, hardly hearing his words about Healers, too lost in the ease with which he discussed something so taboo to humans as sex. “That’s blunt. We humans don’t talk about … sex. Especially not in high school.” It was hard to not feel scandalized.
Greg grinned at her. “Azellians aren’t inhibited in the least. As you’ll find when you spend time with us.”
She had a sudden flash of visceral memory from the day before. A scent, a spicy, warm, musky scent and a surge of intense sexual attraction beyond anything she’d ever experienced. Feeling a blush crawl up her cheeks, she was suddenly very glad Greg had said he couldn’t read her mind. “I’m almost afraid to find out.” She glanced over at him. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
Greg laughed, then coughed. “No, no significant other. I’m a Healer,” he said, as if that explained everything.
“So?”
“Healers don’t form pair bonds,” he explained. “It’s … not allowed. We have too much to focus on to get tied up in relationships. And honestly, most of the time I’m way too busy to think about it anyway.”
“So Healers are celibate then?”
Greg laughed again. “Not if we can help it. Sex can be a great stress relief.”
Confused, Tamara frowned at him. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Greg gave her a strange look. “Humans always pair bond in order to have sex?”
“No, of course not.” She flushed. “Although … it’s more acceptable if they do.”
“Acceptable?”
“Yes …” She trailed off, unable to explain it to him. How do I explain our sexual morality to a culture that has a totally different set of rules? “Never mind,” she said as they approached the cafeteria.
Greg held the cafeteria door open for her. “No, go on. Now you’ve got me curious. So on Earth it’s not okay to have sex unless it’s within the confines of a pair bond?”
Tamara squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, yeah. Sort of. Except in college when it’s okay to experiment. But you’d better not get pregnant or you might have to get married.”
A strange look crossed Greg’s face. “Merran said something about this yesterday. That he’d have to warn Justy and Alari. Are you telling me that here on Earth it’s literally required to form a pair bond if you get someone pregnant?”
“Well, it’s not required, but it’s pretty bad if you don’t. There’s a lot of social pressure.”
Greg whistled under his breath. “Well, I’m certainly glad I don’t have to worry about that. I’d better talk to the guys, though. Reinforce Merran’s warning.”
Tamara frowned at him. “What do you mean? You don’t have to worry about getting a woman pregnant? Is it because you’re a Healer?” Something about his logic was escaping her. He’d said Healers weren’t celibate, hadn’t he?
“No, it’s because my preferences don’t run to women.”
She stumbled, surprised at the relaxed ease behind his comment. “You’re gay?”
He blinked at her. “I’m what?”
She blushed. “Oh, sorry. It’s what most everyone calls men who like other men.”
“Oh.” He gave her a look. “I suppose you’re going to tell me there’s some human rule about that too?”
“Well, it’s more okay now than it used to be. But you’ll want to be careful about who you approach. Some guys are … funny about it. If they’re not comfortable with their preferences, they can get … violent.”
“Thanks for the warning. Although I doubt that’s going to be much of an issue.” He tapped his temple, presumably to indicate his telepathic abilities but didn’t say anything more as they grabbed trays and scanned the hot food section. “What are those?” he asked, pointing at the food spread out in the warming pans.
&nbs
p; “Scrambled eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, pancakes.” Tamara pointed each item out as she listed it. “Are you vegetarian?” she asked as he made a face.
“Vegetarian?”
“Yes, someone who doesn’t eat meat.”
“Ah. Well, I don’t usually eat meat so I guess that applies to me.”
“Well, hashbrowns and pancakes don’t have any meat in them. Neither do eggs or the cereal and milk over there.”
“Is there any fruit?”
Tamara glanced at the salad bar that doubled as a fruit bar in the morning. “Yes, right over there. Probably nothing you’re used to, though.”
“That’s okay. I don’t mind trying something new.” He walked over to the salad bar and picked out several pieces of different types of fruit as Tamara poured herself some cereal and milk.
Tamara rejoined Greg at the salad bar, watching the Healer as he carefully chose a thick piece of melon. “Hey guys,” a new voice said, and she turned to see Mellis approaching, carrying a tray with a plate of scrambled eggs and hashbrowns on it. “Mmmm, that looks good,” she said to Greg. “Can I have one of those?”
Greg handed her a slice of melon. “Good morning, Mel. How’d you sleep?”
Mellis smiled. “Good. I was so tired I managed to sleep the whole night through. How about you?”
“I slept the whole night through too. You spend the night with Justy?” he asked as they carried their trays over to one of the long tables on the outside of the food area.
“No, those beds they gave us are way too small for two people, and Justy sprawls so badly when he sleeps that he pushes you right out of bed.” Mellis said, placing her tray down and climbing over the bench. “I’d never have gotten any sleep if I’d spent the night with him.”
Greg picked up his fork and speared a strawberry. “Hmm. Well, I was just wondering how he was doing this morning. He was a little rattled last night. Is he calmer?”
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