Shine: Season One (Shine Season Book 1)

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Shine: Season One (Shine Season Book 1) Page 3

by William Bernhardt


  “That’s what makes you invaluable. Tell me about Merena—the one they call Perfume. I received a disturbing report…”

  “The intel has been confirmed. So we’re taking appropriate measures.”

  “Underground?”

  “Exactly.”

  The Chief nodded. “Regrettable, I know. But have you looked at the headlines? Everything going on now is regrettable. This world is falling apart. We have to try to save it.”

  “Your new alliance with the SSS should help with that.”

  “We’ll see. Reverend Trent can be…challenging.”

  “Some people think you own him.”

  “No one owns Trent. His endless bankroll and huge support base make him undesirably independent. He does what he wants. He’s even in league with Dr. Estes now. I have to be on the alert at all times. But that’s not your problem. Just make sure I get chapter and verse on the new girl. Every move she makes.”

  “Roger that. But don’t expect the reports to be too action-packed. I get the impression she’s depressed. Major league inferiority complex.”

  “And how ironic is that?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “An inferiority complex—when she’s the most powerful one of them all. She just doesn’t know it.”

  “We don’t want to tell her.”

  “No. At least not until we have her under control. Which better not take too long.”

  She massaged the back of her neck. “Because—you really think it’s coming.”

  “Inevitable.”

  “How bad?”

  “If we’re lucky, we get away with a minor apocalypse. And if we’re not—Armageddon. End-of-days.”

  “And no one can do anything to stop it?”

  “Your new inductee could.” The Chief smiled slightly. “But let’s make sure she doesn’t figure that out. Yet.”

  5

  Aura sat in the sterile clinic awaiting her personal therapist. Maybe it was the air conditioning, but the room gave her the shivers. White walls, the smell of antiseptic, the glass jars filled with cotton balls and Q-tips. Too many white coats and not enough low-riders. Too much muzak and not enough slash. Too many oh so earnest people wanting to help and too few people who didn’t give a—

  She’d spent most of her lunch hour prowling around the complex, observing, thinking. The high stone wall completely surrounded them, but of course, even if someone got past that, they’d still be miles from the coast. Escaping from TYL would be like escaping from Alcatraz. Pity. Dr. Coutant had been more than icky enough to make her want to flee. Whenever Beverly took that tone of voice, her alleged compassion and concern was always thinly veiled criticism.

  So what could she expect from this therapist? Probably a chubby male nurse loser with the social grace of an overheated elephant—

  “Excuse me, are you Aura Meadows?”

  Several seconds passed before she realized she was gaping.

  He cleared his throat. “Am I intruding?”

  “Uh, no. I mean, yes. I mean, yes, I’m Aura. But you’re not intruding. I mean, this is your office, right?” She let out a nervous laugh and felt like a complete idiot.

  This guy was the complete antithesis of what she’d expected—in age, demeanor, fitness, and overall hotness. He couldn’t be more than twenty-something. He had thick dark hair that begged her to run fingers through it. He wore scrubs, but the shirt was tucked in at the waist revealing broad shoulders that tapered down to a waistline without a trace of fat. The pecs were evident, and the biceps held her attention even longer.

  “My name is Mark Maddox. I’m your assigned therapist. Is something wrong?”

  Oh, wow. How long had she been staring at his bod? He’d have to be blind not to notice. “No, I’m just…disoriented.”

  “Understandable. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  She resisted the temptation to suggest the obvious. Get over it, girl. Eyes on the prize.

  Though he would make a hell of a prize.

  “Let me explain how the intake session goes.” He pulled over a stool on wheels and sat opposite her, occasionally tapping data into his tablet. “I have to ask you all these questions. Some of them are likely to be embarrassing. Just forget I’m here, if that helps. Pretend you’re talking into a tape recorder, or I’m your maiden aunt, or your priest, or some other trusted unthreatening person.”

  Right. That’s going to happen.

  “The important thing,” he continued, “is that I get a complete history. So we can get to the heart of the underlying problems that cause these behaviors and…manifestations.”

  “Okay. Um, whatever.”

  “Good. I like a woman with a positive attitude.”

  Her heart fluttered.

  “We’ll need a nurse to take blood, too.”

  “And then what do you do with it?”

  “Just general exploratory tests. I’m sure you’ve heard the theory that the Shine mutation—”

  She glared at him.

  “—uh, Shine emergence is the result of a genetic variation. A byproduct of evolution and a world with far too many manmade chemicals.”

  “You believe Shine is caused by artificial sweeteners?”

  He grinned slightly. And good Ghandi—he had a dimple on his right cheek. As if he weren’t quite irresistible enough already. “Our research team hopes to find the common denominator.”

  “I don’t believe it’s a mutation.”

  “I hope you’re right. But there has to be a reason why some girls get it and most girls don’t.”

  “And no boys do.”

  “Exactly. We’re all working together, trying to come up with some answers. So we can help you get this thing under control.”

  “You mean, so you can eradicate it.”

  He paused. “At the very least, I mean so we can eliminate uncontrolled disasters like the one in Seattle. We all want that, right?”

  She fell silent.

  “Tell me, Aura. Have you ever tried not being a Shine?”

  “I am what I am. I didn’t choose to be this way.” Her voice crept up in volume. “And I didn’t want all those people to die.”

  “Of course not. And you’re willing to take steps to make sure it never happens again.”

  She hesitated. “I hope nothing like that ever happens again.”

  “That’s a healthy attitude. Focus on the future, not the past.”

  She had to avoid his eyes, so she glanced around the clinic. Science was never her best subject, but she knew the equipment scattered about did not come cheap. If she wasn’t mistaken, that glistening silver object in the corner was a small cold-fusion terminal. And the tower structure on the table was a 3-D printer. Lasers, test tubes, virtual burners. This joint was Einstein’s playhouse. Which meant TYL had some serious funding.

  “I think I have most of the preliminary information I need, Aura. You understand why you’re here, right?”

  “My options were extremely limited.”

  “Yes, but you understand the purpose?”

  “You’re going to make me all better. All un-Shiny.”

  He glanced up from his tablet and stared at her with his dark black eyes. “That depends on you. This is a long-term residential treatment facility. Our job is to uncover the root problem that has given rise to your psychological issues.”

  “You’re saying Shine abilities cause personality issues?”

  “I think there’s a relationship between the two, just as past studies have shown that extremely sensitive persons or the artistically inclined are more prone to addictive behavior. Being identified as a Shine can create difficult social issues in a world that at times seems hostile—”

  “At times?”

  He paused. “Some people will always feel jealousy—or fear—toward those who can do what they cannot. That undoubtedly creates stress, which is itself a cause of adjustment disorders and other issues. Have you, perhaps…had feelings along these lines?”
r />   She shrugged. “I don’t think I can be reduced to a single factor.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Then you’re the first. Everyone else I’ve been forced to talk to the past four months dug around for a magic pat explanation. Were you beaten as a child? Were you sexually assaulted?”

  “I know. In reality, it’s rarely that simple. Especially with Shines.”

  “I’m glad you realize that.”

  “On the other hand…” She could see that he chose his words carefully. “…there has to be some explanation. What happened in Seattle…is not normal.”

  “And what exactly is normal?”

  “Good point. But we don’t want Seattle to recur. Ever. Can we agree on that?”

  All at once, she felt tears welling up behind her eyes. She fought them back. “Of course,” she whispered.

  “I also know PTSD and survivors’ guilt can be destructive to anyone. And we’re not going to solve all the world’s problems in the first fifty-minute hour. We’ll meet every other day, at least at first.”

  She wiped her eyes. “Sounds like a clownfest.” Though in truth, she could think of worse things than seeing him every forty-eight hours.

  “You got an ESFJ on the Briggs-Meyers. Extraverted but sensitive. Good judgment. Caring. I think I’m detecting some leadership possibilities.”

  “Don’t chainmail me, doc. I couldn’t lead a hopscotch team at recess.”

  “Not now perhaps. But don’t give up on yourself. You can fight this. You’ve already seen the consequences of Shine abuse.” He drew in his breath. “So you grasp the importance of treatment. Let’s work together, shall we?”

  A thousand thoughts raced through her head. And she didn’t say any of them. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “That’s a good start. You must recognize that anytime you indulge in your Shine, there’s a tremendous potential for harm. Even if it seems like you’re doing good. Once you’ve indulged a little, you may be powerless to stop indulging, until a bad outcome becomes inevitable. You have to learn to just say no. Under any circumstances. Do you understand that?”

  She fidgeted on her metallic stool. “Perfectly.” She paused. Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “You know, I saved some of those people.”

  “But hundreds died. Let’s be frank, Aura. If something like that happens again, the consequences for Shines will be far worse than what they’re suffering now.”

  Damn him anyway. There was no possible way she could argue with that.

  Tears welled up in her eyes. She raised her hand to her face, as if somehow she could stop them from streaming. “Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t feel bad enough already?”

  “Aura, I—”

  “Do you know what it’s like to have everyone on earth think you’re Jack the Ripper? I never wanted that.”

  “I know.”

  “All I ever wanted my entire life was to help people. Heal them. And then—” Her body trembled. “And then—” She couldn’t continue the sentence. She didn’t want this, damn it. This was embarrassing and emotional and girly and weak and …and the tears kept spilling out anyway.

  He handed her a tissue. “You’ve been holding that back for months, haven’t you? While the government grilled you over and over again. Just let it out. You’ll feel better later.”

  “I feel horrible.”

  “I know you do now, but—”

  “Why did you have to bring this up, you sadist?”

  He raised her chin slightly, forcing her to look deeply into his eyes. “Because Seattle isn’t going away. It’s too big. You have to deal with it. And I want you to do that in a positive way, not a self-destructive way.”

  “I’m not going to off myself, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “And you don’t want to attract the attention of the SSS, either. They may be a bigger threat to you and the other Shines than the government.”

  Another point with which she could not possibly argue.

  He pushed himself up, slapping his hands against his impressive thighs. “I’ll give you some private time to collect yourself. We’ll pick this up again next time. If you click your name on the tablet in your room, you’ll see several books I’ve downloaded to your account. I hope you’ll take the time to absorb some of them. You may find the books more persuasive than me.”

  She wiped her eyes and tried to get the shuddering under control. She knew her face was red and blotchy. Bad enough she had to be the new Jack the Ripper. Now she had to look like a dog biscuit in front of the only hunk in the rehab.

  She thought he was on his way out the door, so she was completely startled when he laid his hand on her shoulder.

  She felt an electric tingle race through her body. Stupid girl. Stupid. Get a grip.

  “I care about you, Aura. I really do. I know you’ve gotten a raw deal. And I don’t believe for a minute that you meant to hurt anyone, in Seattle or anywhere else, no matter what some paranoid people say. But you have to play the cards you’re dealt. If you’ll work with me, we’ll make this process as painless as possible. And you’ll have your best shot at a good result.”

  She peered up into those dark black eyes. She could feel his sincerity. No way he was putting on an act. No one was that good.

  “But let’s not take any risks, okay? I know you don’t want to be here. But there are some far worse alternatives.”

  “Like what?”

  “I can’t help you if they send you to Mordock.” He gazed at her so long it made her burn inside. “And I can’t help you if you’re dead.”

  .

  6

  Aura felt an enormous wave of relief when the first day’s activities finally came to an end. Would every day be this emotionally exhausting? She didn’t know what she thought of all this rehabilitative therapy. Well, she did know what she thought, but it probably wasn’t a good indication of that attitude adjustment she was supposed to be having. She thought Coutant was a psychobabbling dominatrix. She thought the twelve-step expert should ditch the rug. She thought the spirituality counselor should get a real job. She thought Mark Maddox was hot.

  And she thought the others girls here were seriously messed up—which made her worry about the fact that she’d been sent to live with them.

  She hadn’t spoken to any of the other inmates since that tense introductory session by the pool. They hadn’t spoken to her, either, but that might not mean much. Harriet was too shy to speak to anyone, Dream was too stuck-up, Mnemo was usually reading, Gearhead had seriously deficient social skills, and Tank would probably rather punch her in the face.

  She had no idea what to make of Twinge. She kind of liked her, despite the in-your-face personality. Maybe because of the in-your-face personality.

  She sat by the pool and pondered what to do next.

  As if on cue, Dr. Coutant strode up beside her. “You’ve been assigned to Room 4A. You’ll be with Dream and Twinge and Harriet. You’ll be taking Perfume’s place.”

  “Hey, I don’t want to kick anyone out of their room.”

  “Perfume has been reassigned. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Why was she reassigned?”

  “I’m afraid I’m not allowed to discuss that. Client confidentiality. Your luggage has been delivered. You should go to your room and unpack.”

  Coutant turned abruptly and left.

  Apparently their conversation had come to an end.

  She reentered the main building and walked down the hall till she found 4A, not far from the clinic where she’d had her intake session with dreamboat Mark.

  Her three roomies were already there. Three beds were claimed. One was vacant—the one closest to the door, natch. The last kid at camp to get to the cabin gets the worst bunk, right? Her luggage rested at the foot of the bed.

  Dream looked up from a fashion magazine. “Wow. Perfume’s bed’s not even cold and they’re sending us a replacement.”

  “It was
n’t my idea,” she replied.

  “It still sucks. Perfume’s gone and no one will tell us why. Just send in the next contestant.”

  “You’re worried about her. That’s understandable.”

  Dream and Twinge exchanged a wordless look. Dream’s eyes returned to her magazine. No one spoke.

  Oookay. Razor. She opened her bags and started unpacking.

  “Oh my Ghandi!” The sudden shrieking made her jump. “Aura, you’re finally here!”

  She turned to see a woman in her early twenties standing in the doorway clapping her hands together. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to arrive? We are going to have soooo much fun together.”

  She noticed her roomies rolling their eyes. “And you are…?”

  “Judy. I’m your floor supervisor. Kind of like a dorm RA. Except you’ve never been to college so you probably don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  “I get the general idea.”

  “Am I talking too fast? When I get excited, I gab and gab and gab. We are going to be total BFFs, I just know it. Like me and the other girls.”

  “Technically, I think you can only have one BFF…”

  “Oh, not me. I love everyone. So if you have any questions, need anything, just let me know, okay? Like now, for instance. Is there anything you need?”

  “I need to get out of here.”

  Judy shrieked with laughter. “Oh. My. Gandhi. You are so funny. This is going to be a complete happy meal.” She reached into her satchel. “I have your uniform. As you’ve probably noticed, our clients all wear a uniform.” She passed over a knee-length pleated skirt, a white blouse with a scarf tie, and a jacket. “Aren’t they stylin’? I wish I could wear one. All the girls love them.”

  She noticed there was no confirmation of this assertion from her roomies. To her, the uniform looked like something a character in a Japanese horror movie might wear. The jacket bore a crest featuring a lighthouse and some Latin words she didn’t understand. Commutans Lux Vestra.

  “I promised Dr. Coutant that I’d take good care of you,” Judy continued, “so if there’s anything you ever want or need, BFF, just let me know. I’ll let you get unpacked now. Then maybe we can make cupcakes or something!” Judy glided out the door.

 

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