Intuition t-2

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Intuition t-2 Page 25

by C. J. Omololu


  I squint in the light coming from the lamp on the table next to me and look around. I’m not in the safe room anymore, but in what looks like a library straight out of a Sherlock Holmes novel, with wood-paneled walls and shelves full of books. There’s a blanket over me, and my heels are neatly positioned next to the couch. “Where is she?” I repeat, putting a hand to the lump on the back of my head. I can feel dried blood back there too, but my fingers come away clean.

  “They’re on the way back here,” he says. “They found Rayne and the others at the executive airport, about to get on a plane.” He leans down and kisses me gently on the forehead. I can see the concern in his eyes. “God, I was so worried about you.”

  I look around. Peter’s in a chair by a curtained window staring at the two of us, but there’s nobody else in the room.

  “Where’s Giselle?” I ask, remembering her face downstairs. She must have pulled Christophe off of me. My heart pounds at the memory of his hands around my neck.

  “In the safe room still, watching over the prisoner.”

  I try to sit up again more slowly. “What about Christophe?”

  Drew shakes his head. “Gone.”

  “But he was part of the plot the whole time,” I say, struggling to sit up again. “He knew about everything, he was in on it with the kidnapper—”

  “ ‘Gone’ as in ‘dead,’ Cole,” Drew interrupts. “Giselle snapped his neck. She had to, to get him off you.” He glances back at Peter. “He’d been texting the kidnappers right out in the open, telling them everything we found out. Figured nobody would suspect him, I guess. Until you did.” He gets up and crosses the room, bringing back a glass of water. “Drink this; you’ll feel better.”

  The glass trembles in my hand, but the water is cool on my throat. “I saw the way they looked at each other,” I say. “And I knew right then he was one of them.”

  “So you can read minds?” Peter says from across the room. They’re the first words he’s spoken since I woke up.

  I glance at him. He looks a little disheveled and confused. He’s slouched in the chair with his arms crossed in front of his chest, and I don’t blame him. I’m not sure how much he knows, but it must be a lot to deal with. “Not exactly,” I say. I look at Drew.

  “I didn’t know how much to tell him,” Drew says.

  “I can’t read minds,” I say. “But I can read emotions and sometimes interpret images in other people. I’m good at visual cues that other people miss. Does that make sense?”

  “Not really,” he admits. He looks from me to Drew. “What are you people, anyway? Nobody wants to tell me, but I know something’s going on.”

  I decide he deserves to know the truth. “Akhet,” I say. “People who remember their past lives. Rayne became one of us when Veronique gave her the ergotoxin she created. Which is what the guys who took her are after.” I can see him struggling to accept what I’m saying. “You should really ask Griffon. He’s better at explaining all this.”

  We hear the front door slam and footsteps echo in the entryway. Drew pulls the door open and sticks his head out into the hallway. “We’re in here.”

  I stand up at the sound of feet pounding down the hallway, just as Rayne bursts through the door. For the first time since this all started, my eyes well up at the sight of her, as she jumps up to hug Peter, who looks like he’s never going to let her go. “Oh my God, I’ve never been so freaked out in my whole life!” she says, breathless, when he finally puts her down. “I was so scared, but I knew you would come and get me.” She comes over to give me a hug, but pulls back and puts one finger on my neck. “What happened?” She looks into my face, confused.

  I put one hand up and feel the welts where Christophe was choking me. “I got into a little fight. But I’m fine.” I grab her and give her a hug. “The important thing is that you’re fine.”

  “You should have seen it,” she says, her eyes shining. “I was trying to figure out how to get out of there, you know? I could see that we were going to the airport, and there was no way I was getting on a plane with these guys, guns or no guns. We parked the car on the blacktop next to this little plane, and the next thing I know bullets are flying all over the place and Griffon is pulling me into a car.” She shakes her head, and I can tell she’s overwhelmed by everything that’s happened tonight. “It was so crazy.”

  I look past her to Janine and Sue standing in the doorway. I can hear deeper voices talking out by the front door. “Is everyone okay?”

  “On our side, yes,” Janine says, walking into the room. “But we had to eliminate the kidnappers.” She nods to Sue. “Luckily, this one still knows how to handle a gun.”

  Sue smiles at her. “We were able to recover some of the files from Veronique’s office and what appears to be all of the formula that she’d already made. Everything was wrapped up in a suitcase, but we’re still trying to figure out where they were going.”

  “And who they were meeting,” Janine says. I can see her eyes on the bruise on my neck.

  “Did Giselle tell you what happened?” I ask.

  “She did,” Sue says. “So hard to believe Christophe turned. If you hadn’t been there, he’d have gotten away with it. They all would have.”

  Drew walks over and pulls me to him. “I can’t believe I was only two floors away when that bastard was trying to kill you.” I can hear a hitch in his voice as he speaks. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” He bends down to kiss me and I lean into him, grateful to be able to relax at last.

  “Um, I’m going to help Giselle and the guys deal with the safe room,” Griffon says from the doorway. He glances quickly at the two of us and then focuses on Janine. “Do you need me for anything?”

  “No,” says Janine. “That’s a good idea. We’ll have a briefing in the morning.”

  “Right,” he says, not looking back at me before he turns to go downstairs.

  A tall grandfather clock in the corner starts to chime, and I realize it’s already midnight. “Why don’t you come stay over at my house tonight?” I ask Rayne. Even though it looks like the kidnappers have all been killed, I’m uncomfortable leaving her alone. “My parents will be less pissed that I’m late if you’re with me.” It’s almost funny that I’m worried about my parents after what went on here tonight.

  Rayne looks down at my dress. “How are you going to explain the fanciness?”

  “Your other clothes are in my car,” Drew says. “You can change here and I’ll drive you home.” He kisses me quickly again. “Unless I can persuade you to come stay at my place?”

  I can feel Janine’s eyes on me. Even though I know she’s not my mom and wouldn’t say a word about it, I still feel funny talking about this in front of her. “Not tonight. It’ll be okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “And the tomorrow after that?” he asks, a bright smile bursting through the concern on his face.

  “Yes,” I say. “I promise.”

  Thirty

  I curl up on my side and stare out the window of Drew’s apartment, unable to shake the inexplicable feelings of helplessness and dread that have been following me for days. The afternoon fog is rolling in, tucking itself around the skyscrapers, and the damp gray light outside matches my mood much better than the summer sunlight we’ve been having. I know I shouldn’t be depressed—Rayne is safe, the formula was recovered, and all Drew wants is to make me happy. But still I feel a heaviness in my chest that I just can’t loosen. I play with the knot on the scarf I’ve been wearing to cover up the bruises on my neck. In a few days they’ll be gone completely. I wish the memories of that night could go with them.

  Drew’s next to me on the couch, talking on the phone. “How much?” he asks the person on the other end. “Twenty million? I was thinking more like fifteen. That should be enough to get them started.” Another pause. “Screw that. Tell them it’s take it or leave it. If they can’t come to some sort of an agreement, there are plenty of start-ups who can.” Drew s
crolls through pages and pages of numbers on his tablet faster than I can see them. He stops abruptly and peers at one page. “What about ADM?” He listens to whoever is on the other end. “Good. Put fifty percent of that back in the company. Hold the other fifty.” Drew’s fingers play with mine absentmindedly as he wraps up his conversation. “Is that it? I’ll talk to you in the morning.” Drew pulls the headset off and tosses it on the table.

  I put my book down and lean back against him. “Two truths and a lie.”

  Drew keeps tapping on the screen. “What?”

  “Two truths and a lie,” I say, poking him in the side. “It’s a game.”

  He sighs, not taking his eyes off the tablet. “I’m no good at games.”

  I slide over to the end of the couch as I feel hot tears at the back of my eyes for no reason at all. So what if Drew hates games? He’s busy, and it’s stupid. So why am I crying?

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, looking surprised.

  “Nothing,” I sniffle. “It’s just been a rough few weeks.”

  Drew puts the tablet down and reaches for me. “Thank God all of this Sekhem business is over and we can get on with our lives.”

  I lift my head up to look at him. “What do you mean, over? I’m still going to work with Janine. They need me. They need what I can do.”

  He looks confused. “But it’s dangerous, you saw that. And you’re not obligated to help them anymore.”

  I can tell this conversation isn’t going my way. “Well, I’m still going to see Janine.”

  “Fine,” he says, but I can tell he doesn’t really agree. “But I don’t want you doing any more dangerous assignments.” He kisses me. “I need you here, in one piece.” Drew sits back on the couch and I lean against his arm. “I told Sandoval I’m buying the boat,” he says. “So I think we should run away to an island somewhere until you turn eighteen. You won’t have to do anything except lie in the sun and swim in the water, surrounded by tropical fish.”

  I snort. “Sure. That would be great, but what about school? I’m going to be a senior this year. I have to finish.”

  “Quit!” Drew’s eyes light up. “Just bail on all of it! Why do you need to finish?” He looks like he really doesn’t understand the concept. “Don’t you get it? From now on, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I have more money than we can spend in a lifetime. A high-school diploma isn’t going to give you anything I can’t.” I can tell he’s getting excited about the possibilities. “Anywhere you want to go. Europe, the South Pacific . . . maybe Thailand. I’ll do a little bit of work here and there, but the rest of the time we can just hang out together playing duets and watching the sun set.”

  “But what about my family? The studio?”

  “Once they see that you’re fine, they’ll forgive us. Parents always do.” Drew lifts my left hand and kisses the scar that runs down the length of my forearm. “I’ll buy you your own studio,” he says. “I’ll stock it with the finest instruments in the world. You can teach, you can perform, you can even tour if you want. You won’t have to work for a thing.”

  I look at Drew’s face and see the excitement in his eyes, the smile on his perfect face. His life is full of possibilities, of people who never say no to him. He quit school at sixteen and never looked back. He’s sitting here, offering me the world, saying things that any girl would kill to hear. So why do they just make me uncomfortable?

  “What’s the point?” I sit up on the edge of the couch, pulling my sweater tighter around me. I feel myself walking to the edge of something, dipping my toe off the cliff to see if there’s anything there that will support me. “What’s the point of being alive if you’re not working toward something?”

  “But you will be,” he says quietly. “We’ll both be working toward creating a family. The family that was cut short the last time.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t want to have kids right away.”

  “Not right away,” he laughs. “But I don’t want to wait too long. All you talked about last time was how you wanted to have babies. Our babies.”

  I look at Drew and see that he’s already got it all planned out. Just like last time. “I’m not that girl anymore,” I say quietly but firmly. “I’m Cole.”

  Drew’s mouth sets in a hard line, but his eyes soften as he looks at me. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “But you did! You’ve said it over and over. You want me to go right back to that lifetime.” I take a deep breath, forcing myself not to cry. “But I’m not Allison anymore. I can’t be that for you, wearing beautiful dresses that you buy for me and staying home having babies.” The last words come out in a whisper. “That’s not what I want this time.”

  “This is crazy,” Drew says, sitting up next to me, one hand on my knee. “I don’t know what kind of bullshit Janine’s been feeding you, but—”

  “It’s not Janine,” I say to Drew. “It’s me. I have my own dreams, things I want to do. And I can make my own decisions.” As I say it, I realize it’s time that I do. We both want all of me, and only one of us can win. I reach up behind my neck and unclasp the ankh. I fold it into my hand one last time, feeling its warmth, keenly aware of the connection between its past and my present. In one motion I pull the earrings off as well and place them all in Drew’s palm, closing his fingers around them. With that one gesture, I make a statement that propels me forward. I take a single breath, drawing air deeper into my lungs than I’ve been able to in days.

  “Don’t do this,” he says, shaking his head. “Don’t do this to me. To us.” He lifts his hand and I flinch, but his fingers barely brush my cheek. “This is our destiny. We were meant for each other. We always have been. You can’t do this.”

  “I have to,” I say. Drew’s beautiful blue eyes look suddenly panicked, and I realize that what’s right is usually what’s most difficult. “Maybe we were meant for each other once, but you deserve better than I can give you. There’s someone else out there who can give you what you need.”

  Drew looks down momentarily and then lifts his eyes to mine. “As long as your essence is walking this earth, there is nobody else for me.”

  The weight of his words hits me full force, but as hard as this is, I can’t make my decisions for him. I have to make them for me. “I’m so sorry. I can’t be the person you need me to be.”

  He looks like he’s about to cry, and I see the muscles in his jaw working. “This isn’t over,” he says. “As long as I’m still breathing, this isn’t over.” He reaches for me again, but I’m already gathering my shoes and my bag. I can’t look at him, so I keep my eyes on the floor until I hear his footsteps in the hallway and his bedroom door slam.

  I’m waiting for the elevator when the full weight of what I’ve just done washes over me. I had everything at the tips of my fingers—a gorgeous guy, more money than I could ever spend, a lifestyle most people can only dream about—and I just threw it all away. For what?

  Thirty-One

  The last notes echo through the music hall as I look over and give all of my students a big smile. I lean over and whisper, “Now everyone stand up and take a bow.”

  They all bend awkwardly at the sound of the applause, Zander bowing deepest with a toss of his head that irritates me. The lights go up and everyone begins to pack up their instruments as their parents gather at the front of the stage.

  Olivia Miller walks over holding a small pink box wrapped in a ribbon. She hands it to me. “My mom made this for you,” she says. “To say thanks.”

  I open it to see a tiny cake with a cello piped in frosting on the top. I put one finger in and take a taste. Lemon, my favorite. I give Olivia a hug. “Tell your mom thanks for me. And no practicing until Monday. That’s an order.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she says with a grin as she runs off.

  I turn back to my music stand as Herr Steinberg walks up. “That was wonderful,” he says, looking stiff and formal in the suit he always wears to recitals. This pl
ace isn’t as big or as fancy as the concert hall at the Conservatory, but I love him for always taking every recital seriously.

  I stand up, lifting my case upright. “They were,” I say. “I’m really proud of how well everyone did.”

  “Your students were great,” he agrees. “But I was talking about you. You had total command over the instrument today. It’s almost impossible to believe that only a few months ago, we thought you might never play again.”

  “It was okay,” I concede. “But not like before.”

  “Not like before yet,” Herr Steinberg adds. “I’m serious. If you keep moving forward like you’ve been doing, your future as a cellist is wide open. I’m not going to say it will be easy, but with a lot of hard work and a little luck, you will be able to do whatever you dream of.” He watches me intently. “Do you know what it is you’re dreaming of?”

  I look down and fiddle with the latch on the cello case. Being a cellist is all I ever thought about doing, but now things are different. My Akhet skills and knowledge are growing every day, and things that I never thought about doing before suddenly seem like they could be within reach. “I’m not sure anymore.”

  “Well, I hope you’ll keep working with me at the studio,” he says. “I know you’ll have to cut back on your hours when school starts next week, but you have a job here as long as you want it.”

  “Thanks. I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

  “Excellent news.” Steinberg puts his arm around my shoulders and gives me a hug.

  Dad pops his head around the curtain. “Need help carrying anything?”

  “You can grab my bag if you want,” I say, hauling the strap for the cello over my shoulder.

  “Got it.” He bends over and kisses me on the forehead. “That was wonderful, honey. Don’t tell your mom I said so, but she went through more than one tissue during your performance.”

 

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