by Anise Eden
Vani looked impressed. “Good question. Ben, would you like to take that one?”
“Sure,” he said, turning to face me. “As I’m sure you know, we’re always learning more about the laws of nature. Quantum physicists have discovered some pretty mind-blowing things lately, like particles being in two places at once, popping in and out of existence, and appearing to be telepathically linked to one another. And they’re probing dark matter at the CERN collider, even as many continue to deny its existence. There’s much that remains unknown, and parapsychologists believe that once we provide evidence of paranormal abilities, science will simply incorporate that evidence by updating our current understanding of the natural laws.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised that he’d actually given me a reasonable-sounding answer.
“You don’t believe a word of this, do you?” Kai asked, visibly amused.
“Um…” I opened and closed my mouth a few times as I tried to craft a diplomatic response. “Well, this is all new to me, and I do tend to be a skeptic. But I don’t have any other explanation for the empath stuff that happens to me. I’ve also seen what Vani can do, and I can’t explain that, either. I don’t have any experience with those other three categories, but I’m trying to keep an open mind.” I plastered a smile on my face.
“Excellent! That’s all we can ask.” Kai grinned. “But just so you know, by the time you leave here, we’ll make a true believer out of you.”
I held my hands up in surrender. “I’m sure if anyone could convince me, it would be you and Vani.”
Vani erased the definition of parapsychology and drew another hand in its place. “Shall we talk about the other paradigm?”
“Hang on.” Ben turned to me, eyes downcast, and murmured, “If you’d rather wait, that’s fine. I know this is a lot to take in, and I don’t want to overload you.”
Ben’s reluctance to discuss this other paradigm only sharpened my curiosity. “I’m not overloaded,” I said brightly. “I’d like to hear about it.”
Vani held up her marker. “We could just do a quick summary.”
Ben exchanged freighted glances with Vani and Kai as some unspoken communication passed between them. Then he looked at me, his brows forming a dark ridge. “You really want to hear this?”
“Oh, yes. More than ever.”
“Okay,” he grumbled. “A quick summary.”
“Great! We’ll start with some historical facts; I know Ben likes those.” Vani beamed. “According to archeologists, the first known references to paranormal abilities came from the early Bronze Age—oh, wait, I keep forgetting you’re an American, Cate.” She and Kai exchanged wry smiles. “The Bronze Age began roughly five thousand years ago, and fell between the Stone Age and the Iron Age.”
I smirked at the “American” barb, but couldn’t raise an objection, considering that she was right; I hadn’t known when the Bronze Age was.
She continued, “Parapsychologists believe that during that historical period, the human brain took an evolutionary leap that gave us this new set of abilities.”
Ben sat back in his chair and crossed his ankle over the opposite knee. A muscle in his jaw twitched with the effort of containing some unidentified emotion. Whatever was coming next, I figured it must be juicy.
“However, some believe that it’s more appropriate to view all of this through a spiritual lens,” Vani explained. “Do you identify with a spiritual or religious tradition?”
I shook my head. Spirituality was something of a mystery to me. My mother hadn’t raised me in any particular religion. The only spiritual activity I ever saw her engage in was either thanking, cursing, or pleading with God, depending on the circumstances. It was a habit I had picked up from her, in fact. I didn’t pretend to know whether or not God existed, but I figured that if he did, it couldn’t hurt to keep the lines of communication open.
“Well, subscribers to the spiritual paradigm believe that during the Bronze Age, these gifts were bestowed upon humanity by the Divine Source—commonly referred to here as God—so that we could perform physical, emotional, and spiritual healing,” Vani explained. “Five civilizations were chosen to receive the gifts, in theory because they had developed to the point where they were ready to take on these healing duties. For the sake of simplicity, even though the term isn’t historically accurate, I’ll refer to these civilizations as ‘tribes.’” She picked up her marker and wrote the names of the tribes on the fingers of the second hand. “Kai was kind enough to bring replicas of Bronze Age artifacts as visual aids to represent each of the five tribes. First we have Egypt, Asa’s tribe…”
Kai whisked the linen cloth off of the desk, revealing an assortment of strange, ancient-looking objects. His hands floated over them as though he were showing off a prize package in a game show. Then he picked up one of the objects from the table and held it reverently aloft. It was a short sword with what looked like an elaborately carved bone handle and a grey blade in the shape of an “S.”
Vani paused for a few moments so we could take in the sight before she continued. “Then there is the Indus Valley, which is my tribe…”
Kai exchanged the sword for what appeared to be a small, finely sculpted bronze figurine of a voluptuous woman with one hand on her hip and an inscrutable expression her face.
“Mesopotamia, which is Kai’s tribe of origin…”
After carefully putting down the figurine, Kai picked up a metal bowl decorated with a delicate, repetitive teardrop pattern and a geometric design around the rim.
“China, which gave us Eve…”
Kai held up to his face a bright copper mask wearing a stoic, angry expression beneath a helmet that came to a point. It was a bit jarring to see what looked like a mask depicting a warrior worn with a pair of red platform heels. I pressed my lips firmly together.
“And, last but not least, your tribe, Cate: Caledonia.”
“Um, Vani?” I hoped the look on my face didn’t resemble sheep-like ignorance. “Of course I’m familiar with the other civilizations you mentioned, but I’ve never heard the term ‘Caledonian.’”
“Oh, sorry. It is a bit more obscure,” she acknowledged. “Caledonia is what the ancient Romans called the land beyond the northwest frontier of their empire, or today’s northern Scotland.”
With a flourish, Kai put down the mask and picked up a gold collar necklace. It was hammered thin and shaped like a crescent, wide in the front and tapering back toward two points set into square clasps. It shone as though lit from within. My eyes must have been shining as well, because Kai said, “You can wear it sometime if you like.”
“Really?” I asked in a tone of hushed reverence.
“Sure. I made it, so I decide who wears it,” he said, holding it up to his neck.
I stared openly. “You made that?”
“He made all of these,” Vani gushed. “He’s an incredible artist. You should see his studio, Cate. It’s fantastic.”
“I would love that!”
“You two could come over this weekend,” Kai suggested. “I could make my famous baklava and show you the rest of my jewelry collection…”
I was about to chime in with a “Yes, definitely!” when Ben interrupted. “All right, social calendars can wait. Let’s finish up. Go ahead, Vani.”
“Somebody’s grumpy today,” Kai muttered as, with some reluctance, he placed the necklace back on the desk.
Vani didn’t miss a beat, however. “Ever since these gifts were given to the five tribes, they have been passed down through lineage. Of course, five thousand years of history has erased the genealogical records connecting us to our Bronze Age ancestors. Fortunately, that information is still stored in our auras, which is how I can tell to which tribes we’re connected.”
Bronze Age lineage. Spiritual gifts. Tribal origins that were visible in auras. I sat in stupefied silence. Never had I heard so much absurdity spouted from the front of a classroom in all my life. I began to understand Ben’s re
luctance to delve into the spiritual paradigm; it was comforting to know that I wasn’t the only skeptic in the room. Not wanting to offend Kai and Vani, though, I worked to keep any emotion from showing on my face.
Vani smiled warmly at me. She must not have been reading my aura right at that moment. “Any more questions?”
“Uh…” I hardly knew where to begin. “Five categories of paranormal abilities.” I held up one hand and spread my fingers out. “And five tribes.” I held up the other hand. “So in other words, now that I’m here, you have a complete set?”
I wiggled all ten fingers and smiled, but no one joined me. Instead, a heavy silence blanketed the room. Kai and Vani froze and looked at Ben. Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head. Then he looked down, his lips pulled shut as though by a drawstring.
I kicked myself internally. Just as I was starting to establish decent relationships with Kai and Vani, I had to go and make a joke about something they took very seriously. I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s okay.” Ben waved a dismissive hand. “No need to apologize. But if you don’t have any more questions, we should probably stop there for today.”
Oh, hell. I must have really put my foot in it. My heart pounded like a horse kicking a barn door. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe.
Ben stood up. “Vani and Kai, thank you both for that excellent presentation.”
I looked up to find Vani erasing the board and Kai carefully putting the tribal objects away into velvet bags. “It was our pleasure,” Vani said softly.
Sick with guilt, I pushed myself to my feet. “Yes, thank you. I’m so sorry for making light of things. I really do appreciate your taking the time teach me all of this.”
“No problem, baby.” Kai smiled warmly and shook his finger at me. “And stop apologizing. Everything’s fine.”
“Of course it is,” Vani added decisively. She turned to me with a smile, but it quickly turned into a frown. “You look exhausted, though—no offense. Ben’s right; we should stop here for today.”
As she spoke, I realized that I did feel worn out, mentally at least. She and Kai both gave me brief hugs on their way out the door, as though to reassure me that there were no hard feelings.
“My studio door is always open,” Kai said with a wink.
“I can’t wait!” I called after him as they disappeared down the hallway.
• • •
Back in Ben’s office, I flopped into one of the club chairs and rubbed my forehead. Between my efforts to keep my expression neutral during class and my social faux pas toward the end, I was in the early stages of what promised to be a hefty headache.
Ben took his seat behind the desk and peered down at me. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay! I feel terrible for offending them!”
His brow furrowed. “Offending them?”
I began to wonder if I was on the same plane of reality as everyone else, or if I existed in an alternate dimension. “Yes, remember? My bad joke about having a ‘complete set?’ The reason why you ended the class early? About three minutes ago?”
“Oh, that.” He relaxed and ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t worry. You didn’t offend them. Believe me, it would take a lot more than that. And I ended class because they’d covered everything, and you didn’t have any more questions—did you?”
I frowned. I was certain more had gone on at the end of class than Ben was acknowledging. Of course, it was also possible that I was starting to imagine things. It had been an incredibly weird day, and Dr. Nelson’s pills might have been messing with me… I tried to clear my head by shaking it vigorously, but that just worsened my headache. I moaned.
Concern etched itself across Ben’s face. “I’ll tell you what. It’s a little early, but we’ve done a lot today, and you look pretty beat. I think I should have Pete run you home.”
“Thanks.” Home. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was to be back in my house, lying on the couch with a cold washcloth over my eyes.
Ben went to the door and called for Pete, who soon appeared in the doorway. “Whatcha need?”
They spoke in low tones. Finally, I heard the tail end of the conversation: “Make sure she eats breakfast before she leaves.”
“Hang on, wait a minute.” Was Pete going to pick me up again the next morning? I hoped they weren’t planning to chauffeur me in an ongoing fashion. What if I didn’t feel like coming in? Or what if you want to have Sid over again? asked a petulant voice in my head, which I studiously ignored. Dr. Nelson’s pills were working, and apparently, everyone at the MacGregor group was emotionally safe for me to be around. I was sure that I could get myself to the program without Pete’s assistance. “That’s very thoughtful of you, but I’m much better now. I can drive myself.”
Pete looked at me, then at Ben, and then at the floor. Ben’s voice hardened. “I’m glad to hear that you’re feeling more confident,” he said, sounding as though he didn’t believe me for a second. “We’re not taking any chances, though. Pete will drive you.”
So they weren’t transporting me out of courtesy; they just didn’t trust me. Gone was the Ben who restored old cars; Manager Ben was back again. “Pete can drive back and forth to my house all he likes,” I snapped, “but I’m not going to be in the truck with him.”
Bright gold flecks shot through Ben’s eyes again. With his gaze still fixed on me, he inclined his head toward Pete. “You’ll follow her, then?”
Pete nodded as though that were a perfectly reasonable suggestion. “Sure thing.”
Frustration burned through me. “Oh, for the love of God! Why is this such a big deal to you? What difference does it make?”
Pete looked at the ceiling. Ben walked over and stood closer to me than was, strictly speaking, necessary to carry on a normal conversation. “I want you to get here,” he said, his voice low and insistent, “and I want you to get here in one piece. Baltimore can be a dangerous city. You shouldn’t drive around in a vehicle that is anything less than one hundred percent reliable.”
I felt a defensive surge of loyalty toward my car, even though Simone had nicknamed it Calamity Jane. True, it was old and a little beat up. And yes, I had felt lucky to escape unscathed several times when it had broken down on me. But that wasn’t even the point. “What I drive is none of your goddamned—”
“Besides, you and I both know that left to your own devices, you might start inventing reasons not to come in.”
The nerve! I wanted nothing more than to tell him off, but the fact that I’d actually had that same exact thought moments before made it difficult for me to find the right words.
“So, what’ll it be? Chauffeur or caravan?”
I looked from Ben to Pete and back again. They appeared to have their heels firmly dug in. The image of Pete’s steer-horned truck dogging my red hatchback through the city streets was too absurd to contemplate. Pain vibrated through my head like an enormous gong had been struck. Maybe it was time to pick my battles. After all, I could always resurrect the argument once I was in back in fighting form.
“I hope you two realize how ridiculous you’re being.” I folded my arms across my chest for emphasis. “Okay, fine. Pete can drive. But don’t forget, I am not a Marine.”
Pete guffawed. “You can say that again!”
“And I do not take orders,” I declared, doing my best to stare Ben down.
Instead of looking chastened, Ben appeared heartily amused. “Of course not. I’m glad to hear it.” He threw his arm out toward the doorway and pointed. “Now, go get in the truck.”
Pete laughed again. “C’mon, let’s go.”
I shot Ben one last glare for emphasis and did my best to stroll gracefully out of the office.
Chapter Ten
Pete had the good sense not to try to strike up a conversation on the way home. As we neared my house, I managed to talk him into dropping me off at the curb instead of walking me to my door. I hadn’t wanted to
feel completely pathetic. I stood and watched as he turned the corner, then walked toward my stoop.
As I put my foot on the first step, a man emerged from the alley beside my house. I turned to look as he walked toward me and came to a halt about two feet away. The sun was behind him and shining in my eyes, making it hard for me to see him clearly. I stepped back off of the stoop and squinted at him.
“Cate Duncan,” he said in a raspy voice. He was about six feet tall and looked to be around my age. His features were sharp, and his nose had the slightly crooked look of a bone that had been broken and never healed properly. Pallid and lanky with short brown hair, he wore a scraggly goatee and a hooded black shirt. Over that, he had on a baggy black tracksuit and flashy tennis shoes.
Either he was a drug dealer or he was trying to look like one. I wondered what he was doing, popping out of the shadows like that, and how he knew my name. Maybe he was a new neighbor I hadn’t met yet. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, I think you can.” He scanned me with hawkish eyes.
“Who are you?” I asked in an effort to take charge of the situation.
“I’m somebody you know a lot about—more than you should.”
Alarm bells rang loudly in my head. Should I scream for help? Run down the street to a neighbor’s house? Try to push past him and into my house? Screaming seemed like the best immediate option, but as I opened my mouth to do so, he lifted his shirt to reveal the butt of a handgun sticking out of his waistband.
“Don’t even think about it.”
I froze. My brain was shouting at me to do something, but it couldn’t cut through the paralysis of terror. I looked up at his face and saw that he was deadly serious. His eyes were cold and hard—the eyes of someone who had been the victim of a lot of suffering and then decided to inflict some himself. My breathing was suddenly fast and shallow. I tried again to move but my feet were stuck in place.
“I’m Elana’s boyfriend,” he growled. “You know Elana Bruter, right?”
After a moment, my brain clicked into gear. Don, Elana’s boyfriend. Don, the drug dealer. Don, who according to Elana, was capable of violence toward anyone he perceived to be an enemy. I tried to form words but nothing came out.