Shine: Season One (Shine Season Book 1)

by William Bernhardt

  She looked at his outstretched hand, then up to his cold blue gaze. She remembered the pain of his hand. The cruelty in his face when she’d accused him of whoring himself.

  He hadn’t denied it.

  Straightening her shoulders, she backed away. His eyebrows lowered. A hand touched her shoulder, offering support. Camille met Jenni’s steady gaze. Her friend squeezed her shoulder. Camille stepped back, taking Jenni’s hand in hers.

  She lifted her chin and met Gary’s icy glare. “It’s over. I will never let you back into my life. Your threats are nothing but the hot air of a pathetic man who can’t accept rejection.”

  She pulled Jenni until they stood on the opposite side of the wide corridor of food carts. His brows lowered further as something dangerous moved through his eyes.

  The hairs on her arms stood up.

  Her head pulsed at the base of her skull. Clenching Jenni’s hand, she pulled her friend backwards to get further away from him. “I wish I’d never met you, Gary Walker. I wish you couldn’t see me, that you were blind. I wish your cold blue eyes could never again touch me with their cruelty. I hate you.”

  His face darkened as his chest heaved with his anger. His eyes stayed focused on her.

  Jenni pulled on her arm. “Come on, Camille. He can’t do anything to us. Let’s go enjoy the fair.”

  When Jenni pulled her away, Gary exploded toward them. The crowd between them cleared as people stumbled out of the way.

  Camille froze.

  But before Gary could take more than a step, he cried out, collapsed to his knees and clutched at his head.

  Jenni pulled Camille’s arm, but she couldn’t move. He seemed to be in real pain.

  A man standing near Gary knelt down and put his hand on Gary’s back. “Sir, do you need help?”

  Gary groaned and squinted at the man. His eyes widened and he grabbed the other man’s arm. “My head. It feels like someone took a pickaxe to it. I can’t see anything.”

  The man pulled out a cell phone and dialed. “Yes, this is Dr. Marsh. I need an ambulance for a possible aneurism at the fairgrounds.”

  Gary turned his unfocused gaze toward her. “She did this to me.”

  The air left Camille’s chest in a rush. Clenching her friend’s arm, she struggled to force air into her lungs.

  He was right. She had done it.

  She’d blinded Gary with her Shine.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Camille tapped her tablet and Sentinel's news site appeared. She scanned the headlines, smiling at the picture of Mrs. Jenkin's one hundredth birthday celebration.

  Her smile faded as she read the next headline. The SSS were hosting their weekly luncheon tomorrow at the Baptist church. Nearly the entire town could be found on the member list thanks to Gary and his new cause. Small-minded bigots. They hated out of fear and ignorance. She slid her finger across the tablet.

  The classifieds appeared. She caught her breath. Highlighted at the top of the screen, the words LAND FOR SALE glared at her.

  The tablet vibrated.

  A picture of Dr. O’Brien, her employer and Sentinel’s lone optometrist, replaced the newspaper. She touched the picture and forced a smile as the doctor himself appeared on the video chat screen. “Good morning, Doctor.”

  “Good morning, Camille,” he said, his voice thick with congestion. “I’m afraid I’ve come down with something. Reschedule my appointments and close the office for the day when you leave for lunch.”

  The lines on the older man’s face appeared deeper around tired eyes and his usually neat white hair stuck out in a disheveled mess.

  She suppressed a sigh of relief. “Don’t worry about the office. I’ll take care of everything. You get better.”

  The doctor nodded and the video chat window closed, revealing the news site once again. Forcing herself to ignore the ad she’d paid for earlier that morning, she pulled up the appointment list for the day and began calling the patients to reschedule. She finished the last call and closed the appointment screen, glancing around the office and cozy waiting room, her home away from home. The familiar fragrance of homemade vanilla and clove potpourri failed to calm her. On the tablet, her reflection was superimposed over the ad she didn’t want to see. She glared at her ordinary long brown hair with light brown eyes located in a fair, round face. If only she was as average as her appearance suggested.

  Pushing her useless wishes from her mind, she focused on the news site. The news staff hadn’t wasted any time posting her ad. She scanned the item responsible for ruining her day.

  LAND FOR SALE

  300 acres 10 miles south of Sentinel

  1,500 sq. ft log home on north end of property, 2-story, 3 bedroom, 2.5 bath, renovated in last 5 years, 2 car garage. 11 acre pond, surrounded by trees.

  Contact: Camille Leon at 555-4657

  She clenched her jaw. Every part of her wanted to call and demand the ad be taken down. She didn't want to sell the land her family had owned since Oklahoma's land-run days, but she had no choice. As the only technician to a small-town optometrist, her salary wasn't big enough to cover the mountain of debt left by her parents’ sudden deaths. Her father had been terrible with money. It didn’t help that her parents’ deaths hadn't been covered under the terms of her father's life insurance policy either. She'd tried telling them that her father wouldn't have killed himself much less her mother, but the smug insurance agent hadn't believed her. Her father loved her mother. They'd just celebrated their twenty-fifth anniversary the day before their deaths six months ago.

  She closed her eyes, refusing to let tears fall. Her father didn't kill her mother or himself. She knew it. And she suspected she knew who was responsible. Mr. Walker had been pressuring her father to sell their land for years, even going so far as to have his grandson, Gary, court and almost marry Camille. Guilt weighed down her shoulders. Now, thanks to an aneurism, Gary was forever considered legally blind. Oh, he could see with the help of glasses, just not well. Jenni tried to convince her that his loss of eyesight wasn’t her fault, but Camille wasn’t sure. Her Shine affected the sight. Even if an aneurism had existed behind his eyes, could her power have been the reason it exploded at the fair?

  She pushed her guilt over Gary from her mind. Camille resisted the urge to throw the tablet across the room and instead hit the power button. Her parents had been gone six months and though she'd done everything she could to keep from selling, her savings were almost depleted. She had to sell, but it wouldn't be to the Walkers. She'd take half of what the land was worth before she'd sell to those murderers.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The old-style bell rang. Camille left the charts she’d been filing with a sigh, resisting the urge to Shine. She’d refused to use her gift since the incident at the fair. The one day she craved solitude would be the day the bell rang over and over. She glanced at the clock. Almost lunch time.

  She pasted a smile on her face as she rounded the corner into the reception room. A short, black headed woman opened her arms. Her emotions surged to the surface as she stepped into her best friend's embrace.

  "I saw the ad and knew you'd be taking it hard," Jenni said.

  "I want to call and demand they remove it, but I can't." She squeezed her friend in a tight hug, and then stepped back. "What will I do without my sanctuary?"

  "You'll make another one." The Asian woman's exotic eyes twinkled as she pulled a piece of paper out of her purse. "I've got a list of cute little properties for sale in town, several with extensive gardens that should give you that privacy you want."

  "House hunting?" Her stomach turned. "Sounds like a complete happy meal."

  Jenni grabbed her hand. "Take this. Think about it. We can pretend we're on one of those shows on T.V. It'll be fun, I promise."

  She smiled despite herself. Jenni's serene presence always made her feel better in any situation. She'd never seen her friend struggle to contain her emotions. "I'll look at it later."

  Jenni lifted an e
yebrow.

  "Promise. Don't you have a yoga lesson or a meditation class to get to?"

  Jenni nodded. "Yes, I have a session at the retirement center and yoga with the bridge club ladies after that. Wanna meet at Smokey's for drinks and dancing tonight? My treat."

  She nodded. Being alone with her thoughts would be worse, especially without any work to distract her. “Order me a drink if you get there first."

  Jenni winked and left. She returned to her charts. The bell rang again.

  "I'm going to look at the li--" Her voice froze.

  Mr. Walker met her gaze, his gray eyebrows rising over cold blue eyes. Every muscle locked in place as the urge to throw the file at him washed through her.

  He towered over her. His shiny, black cowboy boots clicked on the hard wood floor, and reminded her of a scene in a horror movie. She curled her fingers to keep from jumping on him and clawing his eyes out. She knew he had something to do with her parents’ deaths even if nobody believed her.

  Her heart pounded in her ears. "Get out."

  "Come now, Miss Leon. This was a public office last I checked." He purred in a soft Southern drawl.

  She pivoted, returning to the shelf where she'd been working. She paused before rounding the corner. "Dr. O’Brien is sick today, though you’re welcome to make an appointment and come back another time." Her voice hardened. "Then you can leave."

  "But I'm interested in your land. It is for sale, is it not?"

  She picked up a chart from the stack and fought the urge to Shine. "You weren't invited to this rodeo, Mr. Walker."

  "Your ad didn't say it was by invitation only. I'm prepared to pay top dollar."

  "I'm not interested in your tainted money."

  He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Who do you think has been keeping my grandson from sic’ing his SSS zealots on you?" Camille’s eyes widened as she met the old man’s hard gaze. “I can make your life very difficult.”

  She clenched her jaw. "I'll donate the land to charity before I'll sell to you."

  "We'll see, Miss Leon. We'll see."

  He turned and left her standing in a cold sweat, her emotions swirling inside her. The beeping of her tablet pulled her out of it. Taking a deep breath, she sank into her chair and slid her shaking finger across the screen. A good-looking blond man, about ten years her senior, appeared on the screen.

  She pasted a smile on her face. "Good morning, Dr. O’Brien’s office. How can I help you?"

  The man returned her smile with an equally fake one of his own. "My name is John Marks. I’m an attorney out of Weatherford. I have a client interested in the three-hundred acres for sale south of Sentinel. Are you Camille Leon?"

  Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the tablet.

  The attorney's eyebrows inched up his forehead. "Am I speaking with Camille Leon?"

  "Yes, I'm Camille."

  "Good. My client is very interested in your property and would like to meet with you. He has the late afternoon and evening free today or the morning free tomorrow."

  Today? Her fingers pleated the purple fabric of her favorite scrub top. "I can meet him in the Sentinel Diner at five."

  The attorney nodded. "Very good. We'll see you then, Ms. Leon."

  Ignoring the sick flop of her stomach, she grabbed her tablet and Jenni's list, and locked up the office. She hoped the attorney's client was serious. She’d sell it to them at half the price just to keep it out of Mr. Walker's hands.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Camille stared across the table at John Marks and his client, Gregg Jeffries. Mr. Jeffries described plans to put a private rehabilitation facility on her land. They each wore suits, neatly pressed, with conservative ties. She was certain an entire can of hair spray had gone into keeping their thick hair in place and she was sure that Mr. Jeffries wore concealer under his eyes. Did he do cucumber treatments at night, as well? Probably.

  The attorney placed the contract on the table. "Our terms are listed here. We're prepared to offer top dollar, Ms. Leon. I think you'll find we're more than fair and much higher than any other offer you're likely to receive."

  The contract, a magnet drawing her gaze, made it difficult to pay attention to the conversation. Was she really doing this? A headache pulsed in her right temple.

  "We believe the price we're offering and our plans for the property will sway you in our direction. Our goal is to help young women get their lives back."

  She shifted in her seat as her stomach clenched. "What kind of rehab will this be, Mr. Jeffries?"

  "We take young women who've been born into an unfortunate circumstance, who are unable to fit into society, and we work to give them a second chance," Jeffries replied.

  She forced a smile as her heart sank. "That sounds like an admirable facility, Mr. Jeffries.” She shuffled the pages of the contract together and put them to the side. “I have several offers already, and I want to look at each contract and consider what each of you will be doing with the land before I make my decision. I'll give you a call by the end of the week."

  After shaking their hands and walking them out of the diner, she returned to the booth and turned on her tablet. She pulled up a search engine and typed in Jeffries' name.

  Just as she'd suspected. The window filled with a list of articles involving one of the Shine rehab facilities in West Texas where he'd made a name for himself as an assistant director. She laid her head on the desk. Allowing one of the Shine rehab facilities to be built on her land was not an option.

  Shine abilities appeared publicly seven years ago, though Camille gained her abilities long before that. It was said to be a genetic phenomenon that affected only girls, special abilities having mostly to do with the brain and manipulating it. Non-Shines feared these special abilities. She figured they were just jealous.

  The Shine Surveillance Society was a group of fanatics focused on harassing any woman possessing Shine abilities. They blamed every natural disaster or terrorist attack on Shine. Just after her parents’ deaths six months ago, an explosion, blamed on a Shine, had taken out the entire city of Seattle, killing hundreds. Then two months ago, another explosion leveled Santa Monica. The Shine was killed in that one.

  The government was already working on legislation to deal with Shines. As it was, any Shine discovered was sent to one of the governments rehabilitation facilities for evaluation. Once you went into one, you never came out.

  So much for selling her land this week and keeping it out of Mr. Walker's hands. She sighed. Nothing was ever easy.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Camille scanned the busy pub as someone butchered an old version of I Love Rock & Roll. She shouldn't have agreed to this tonight. She didn't feel like laughing and though she usually loved karaoke, she wasn't feeling much like singing or dancing either. A mountain of their favorite chicken nachos sat in front of her along with her drink of choice, vodka and cranberry juice.

  She squeezed the lime wedge into the drink. "I needed this."

  "Meeting not go well?" Jenni asked, as she sipped on a glass of chardonnay the pub's owner ordered in just for her.

  She shook her head and focused on the drunk girl up on the stage. She wasn't going to tear up and look like a mushy dog biscuit the rest of the night. She gulped her drink and grimaced as the vodka burned down her throat. A double shot. Nice. Jenni knew her so well.

  She sipped the next drink and picked at the nachos. "Greg Jeffries is the assistant director for the Shine Rehabilitation Center in West Texas. He wants to build a new rehab facility on my land." Jenni's face paled as Camille continued. "He’s convinced that his worthy use of the land and his hefty offer will convince me to sell to him."

  "Will it?"

  "When pigs fly."

  "But what will you do now? You have no other offers."

  "Mr. Walker came by the office today," Camille muttered.

  Jenni's eyes widened. "And you didn't do him bodily harm?"

  "I wanted to, but common sense prevailed.
This time."

  Jenni squeezed her hand. "It'll all work out, Cam. God has a way of seeing that His children are taken care of. Pray about it. You'll see."

  She nodded, but even knowing her friend was right, she still couldn't get rid of the knot in her stomach.

  Jenni glanced toward the bar. A smile spread across her face and she waved at a tall man sitting by himself. Michael Saunders, the sheriff's son. He'd been three years their senior and they both had schoolgirl crushes on him and his bright blue eyes, thick brown hair, and tall lean athlete's body. He'd been away at college and she hadn't realized he was back in town.

  "Why are you waving like a lunatic at Michael Saunders?"

  Jenni rolled her eyes. "He just graduated from OSU’s veterinary school. He works at my dad's clinic."

  She heard a note of interest in her friend's voice and Jenni's olive cheeks were definitely reddening. "Oh my Gandhi. You like him."

  "Hush, he's coming over." Jenni smiled as the man stepped up to their table. "Hi Michael. You remember Camille Leon, don't you?"

  His handsome blue eyes glanced her way. "Hey Camille, good to see you again." His gaze shifted back to Jenni.

  She knew when she was in the way. “I need to get home. It’s been a long day. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Camille sighed as she turned off the highway onto her property. She followed the long drive around her home to the garage that made up the bottom level of a large log cabin built into the side of a hill. The cabin was much too big for her and took hours to clean, but she still didn’t want to sell it. She’d hoped to one day raise a family of her own here. Her parents always intended to fill it with children, but hadn't been able to conceive after Camille. They'd considered alternative methods, but Camille's Shine ability changed everything. They hadn’t said, but she knew they’d worried about having another child that might develop the Shine gene. She could still remember the look on their faces that first time.