He had only caught one side of my shirt and I could spring this trap if I slipped out of my top. I did it without hesitation. My focus was to escape defeat and to buy myself time. Reid took a deep breath of surprise and I crossed into his mind to see what had startled him.
I saw we were in an enormous hall of russet-colored wood panels. On the walls were old-world tapestries that wove striking mountain vistas out of colorful thread. The floor-to-ceiling windows were cloaked in heavy drapes that swirled in a brocade of cinnamon and gold. I was standing in front of the glass windowpanes with the sun behind me.
Aside from my breathing, I looked like a statue, listening intently to try to figure out Reid’s location. My skin glowed from underneath the black lace camisole tank top that I wore under my shirt. The French lace hugged my curves in a flattering fit that had stunned Reid like a punch. That must have been why I was looking in Reid’s general direction—I could feel him pulling me to him with his eyes.
Reid’s ability to see had been my defense. That’s when I realized I could have seen the room the entire time. If I had crossed into Reid’s mind, I could have fought the match through his eyes. Mr. Parks had crafted a powerful lesson and I learned even when I could not see, I was never blind at all.
Mr. Parks called for a break in the match and ordered Reid to hand me back my shirt. “You see why I would not want Whitney to fight in a tournament, Reid? Whitney, did you know you would use your clothes for your escape before the match started?”
I smiled as I answered. “No. I wanted different clothes because I didn’t feel protected in these flimsy pajamas and I thought they were a disadvantage. Like many negatives in life, they turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I spent most of the match trying to remember snake stylist techniques and how to get out of grappling holds. I knew Reid’s weight would have been too much for me. Those skills are rusty and I need to practice them.”
Reid pressed my balled-up shirt against my shoulder and I felt the pull between us. It seemed stronger without the distraction of my sight. He lingered close to me as he said, “You remain my favorite opponent.”
I slipped the shirt over my head and was glad I could not see the expressions of Reid and Mr. Parks. “Can I get changed now? These silk pajamas and I need a break from each other. I feel like I have been wearing them forever.”
Reid took my hand and rested it on his arm. “Sure. Our bags are upstairs. I’ll take you to them.” The tension I sensed in him earlier had faded away. Mr. Parks had shown both of us that nothing had changed even though I was without one of my usual abilities. It was not a lesson only for me but for Reid as well.
More of the room was coming into view—through my own eyes now, not through Reid’s mind—and I could see the light from the windows and the dark silhouette of Mr. Parks, although not the details of his facial features. Reid led me out of the room and into the dark hallway. My eyes were slow to adjust and I tightened my grip on his arm as we moved into a different part of the house.
“That’s twice in a row I have beaten you in case you forgot the score,” I teased and waited for his rebuttal. He flexed his bicep and I laughed.
“That was a draw and you know it. Lucky timing for you since you were running out of options, or should I say clothing, in a hurry,” Reid responded with his usual bravado and confidence. We started to climb a staircase and I could see the railing etched along the periphery. There was a window in the middle of the alcove and the light helped my struggling sight.
“Hmm. I wasn’t quite ready to throw in the towel and you added fuel to my tenacity. Mr. Parks has said that to win by capture one must give up something. If you wanted to use a cradle hold, you shouldn’t have cornered me first with a staple hold. I had no choice but to mount a desperate counterattack and my response was more clever than you anticipated.”
“Whitney, I am very familiar with The Thirty-Six Stratagems and I don’t think losing your shirt was exactly what that essay had in mind. However, I am not complaining about your weapon of choice. You are a creative and clever fighter to say the least,” Reid said as we reached the top of the stairs. I heard him flick on a light switch and the hall became bright.
Lamps illuminated the glossy granite tops of the small wood tables that paraded down the corridor. Along the wall, gilded frames showcased dramatic oil paintings of pastoral scenes and competed for space with mounted deer heads and antlers. From the corner of my eye, I could make out a sparkling crystal chandelier hanging above the staircase; it glinted in the light.
Reid turned into a bedroom and let go of my arm while he walked across the room to turn on another lamp. I remained frozen as my eyes adjusted and took in my well-appointed surroundings. The room was decorated in shimmering silvers and deep plum colors. Decadent amounts of rich plum silk fabric splashed across the ornate four-poster bed and around the windows in cascading waves of opulence that pooled onto the floor. I recognized my luggage bag. Helga had laid out a pair of gray suede pants and a luxurious pewter-colored sweater for me.
“This is your room and my room connects through a shared bathroom. Do you want to use the shower first?” Reid asked as he walked toward me. I was careful not to meet his eyes since I didn’t want him to know I had my eyesight back until I was sure it would not fade out again and the blurriness would clear up. It didn’t seem fair to make him ride this roller coaster until I knew I could get off.
“Yes, please. That would be great,” I answered. He walked me to the bathroom, which was magnificently done in white marble with silver veins. The shower was part of an expansive sunken tub of mosaic tiles. He left me standing in the middle of the room while he started the water for me. I remembered his offer to help me once before in the shower after we went water-skiing and I expected him to try to do it again. Instead, he described the layout of the bathroom as if he was a tour guide and led me to the edge of the shower. He politely handed me a plush lilac bath towel and abruptly walked away. I had to concentrate not to let my eyes follow him. I had missed seeing him.
“Call me if you need me to get Helga to help you. I’ll be next door unpacking.” He left through the bathroom door that led to his room and I was alone. The beautiful tub was too irresistible. I stopped the drain and poured in half a bottle of bubble bath. The mounds of foam piled up and I sunk into the hot water. It was the first time I had been alone in days and it was bliss.
I closed my eyes and let my mind drift. A million thoughts floated through my head as I reviewed the events of the past week. Finally, it occurred to me that by this time tomorrow I could resume my life back home.
My quiet sanctuary was interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. “Good Lord, Whitney!” Reid bellowed. His shout scared me and I reflexively sunk under the bubbly water, from where I heard incoherent shouting and then the slam of the door to his room. I resurfaced to hear him yelling at me through the door. “WHAT are you doing? The water stopped half an hour ago and the bathroom door is cracked open!”
Did he really think this was MY fault? My fight response ignited. “I’m the one who can’t see! How was I supposed to find the other door to lock it?” My voice bounced loudly against the marble and tile of the sleek bathroom and, as usual, I used whatever I could to win the fight. If the door was cracked, it was because he didn’t close it properly. There was a moment of silence as he considered my point.
“As much as I hate to admit it, you are right. I assumed you were in your room and I was shocked to find you in here. I’m sorry for invading your privacy. Helga said dinner is in an hour. I will be back to pick you up then.” He was frustrated and angry with me.
“Fine. Thanks,” I managed to squeak out. I felt a twinge of guilt as I drained the tub to prepare for dinner. I didn’t know if it was from concealing my returned sight from him or that I had used the vision of myself getting out of a bubble bath against him in a sparring match that made me uncomfortable. Probably both but I blocked it from my mind and reminded myself dwelling on past choices was not pro
ductive.
After I dressed, I made sure to widely open all the doors as a peace offering to Reid. By now my vision was sharp and it flooded me with relief. Finally, I let myself relax and took a rest.
“Whit, did Helga give you my comb? I can’t find it,” Reid called from the bathroom. I blinked my eyes awake to see his face peeking into my bedroom through the open door. I wasn’t sure what he was talking about since my hair would never be able to be brushed by a comb because it was too thick.
“My brush is on the end of my bed.” I stretched and pointed to it. I wondered if my eyes were deceiving me when to my shock Reid walked into my room wearing nothing more than his towel.
“What are you doing?” I incredulously asked as he crossed the room toward me.
“Getting the brush. What do you think I am doing?” Our eyes met and he cursed. “Don’t tell me…you got your sight back.”
“OK. I won’t tell you,” I said with a sly smile. I laughed as he turned increasing degrees of crimson. “So this is what you meant when you told me you were going to give me interesting moments to remember the rest of my life? I’m so glad it’s not all going to be nuclear reactors and sparring practice.”
“I think I will recommend to Admiral Bennett that he put you into the Poseidon Program’s survival course rotation. That way the recruits could have a taste of how to manage a truly difficult situation. I wonder if anyone would last more than five minutes with you,” Reid muttered as he mustered up his dignity and closed the door to drown out the sound of my loud laughter.
Chapter Two: Bear Hug
We had returned from Munich a few days ago and I was trying to readjust to my normal life. The Zeta luau was the first big party of the start of the 1988 school year and I didn’t need my newly returned vision to know we were almost there—the music blasting through the neighborhood was like loud, throbbing breadcrumbs. Despite the noise, I couldn’t shake the feeling something bad was about to happen. Had Carson Noir found out I was still alive? Then I saw Karen Eubanks walking toward the party. That had to be it.
Just ahead of us, Karen paused at the glass front door and scanned the crowd. She was looking for someone and my muscles tensed because I had a strong feeling it was Reid.
He was meeting me here because he had to pick something up first. The errand was urgent, and I hoped his willingness to let me out of his sight meant things were finally getting back to normal. The irony that the minute he was gone I wished he hadn’t left was not lost on me.
Blair tapped my shoulder and said, “Heads up, Karen is here. I know you want to avoid her.” I appreciatively met her Irish-green eyes and nodded. Blair’s sister, Eileen, had cautioned that Karen was trouble and to keep my distance. That advice matched my own instincts and I had asked Blair to help me dodge Karen as much as possible.
“I saw the signature tank top,” I said. Karen was wearing a white ribbed tank that she wore too often and a grass skirt she trimmed to her mid-thigh.
Blair unsuccessfully tried to stifle a laugh. She agreed it made Karen hard to miss and questioned her October wardrobe choice.
“Is that why you are bundled up in Patrick’s windbreaker? Afraid you might catch the October chill in the air?” I teased, trying to take my mind off Karen before I impulsively crossed into her mind. I couldn’t risk seeing something there about Reid I would regret.
Blair bit back a grin. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. And besides, I am wearing his jacket so I don’t forget to give it back to him.” Blair adjusted Patrick’s blue lacrosse windbreaker as if it added credibility to her lie.
“That’s right. You have such a terrible memory,” I said sarcastically and patted her shoulder. Eileen laughed and Blair’s mouth formed into a thin line of silent annoyance. Eileen knew a person couldn’t recite everyone’s car license plate in the school parking lot and then claim to be forgetful. What she didn’t know was what Dr. West had used Blair’s memory for while I was at Chernobyl.
When I returned from Chernobyl and went to the Delaneys’ house, Blair told me she had memorized the entire Sunrise organizational database at Dr. West’s request, and then it was destroyed. She didn’t need to explain to me the disk couldn’t find its way into Carson Noir’s hands, but if Blair was the only one with all the data, she was at extreme risk.
It was too late for me to object so I lobbied Blair to write out the information and pass it on to someone else as an additional backup. I suggested she might not have been thinking clearly due to the allure of working with Patrick, and I used the varsity lacrosse jacket she had not taken off since I last saw her as Exhibit A for my case of her impaired decision-making. She laughed in my face at my softball approach. I tossed one of her bedroom pillows at her. The Laura Ashley chintz did little to intimidate her.
Undaunted, I presented Exhibit B. I described Noir and Dune; the powerful and lethal people coming for her if they ever found out they were no longer looking for a computer disk but for a person instead. She did not flinch as I pitched her my hardball.
Blair was ready with her defense. She correctly pointed out people with photographic memories were not listed in a mental abilities directory and were not even catalogued in the Sunrise organizational chart. Dr. West said it was his responsibility to find an additional keeper but that the less we knew about it the better. I conceded it was a well-made point.
Then she reminded me she had undergone a great deal of the same training I had and it was not as if she was completely defenseless. She made a panther swipe with her hand to strengthen her case and I laughed.
Finally, Blair argued she was only holding the information as a plan of last resort. The worst-case scenario of Tule Lake being reactivated as a prison facility for a population of psychics may never come to pass. She couldn’t resist adding she thought I was giving Noir and Dune too much credit against Sunrise—especially since she knew all their capabilities.
Blair had made a sound case and I may have let it drop if I hadn’t seen the flicker of relief in her eye. It had been easier than she had expected.
For the first time, I crossed into her mind. I did not want to invade her privacy but would do whatever was necessary to keep her safe. As I suspected, she was recalling the conversation she had rehearsed with Dr. West.
“It’s so much harder than I thought. I was trying not to let you see him,” Blair said with a grimace.
“Who?” I acted like she was crazy, scrambling to cover my invasive action. I looked around her emerald green bedroom as if expecting to find someone hiding behind the voluminous floral drapes.
“Dr. West. He told me you would read my mind if I stumbled in convincing you. He said you would be ticked off if you knew he had helped me. A second ago, a muscle in your face twitched like you were clenching your teeth. I guess you know I had a sneak peek about where this conversation was going. At least I beat you to the punch for once.”
My annoyance quickly flared into anger. “So he told you everything?”
“I don’t know about everything but he confirmed most of my suspicions and filled in a few holes. It surprised me that you were already considered a CIA asset and that Reid had some government program affiliation, but that was about it. I’m pretty detail-oriented. Do you think I haven’t noticed your repeated knack of correctly predicting things? Not to mention, it is a total giveaway when you play sports. I’m your halfback. I see the defensive line you are running into and the holes you find are simply not there until you arrive. My guess is that you are playing the game about two seconds ahead of the rest of us. Not that I am complaining. You are like a secret weapon and let’s face it—our team is doing awesome!”
A smile tugged at my lips and I shook my head in disbelief that she had known all along. It was classic Blair that she looked at my precognition as a part of our winning arsenal. I never thought about how I looked to others while I played sports. In the chaos of a game, I saw only opportunity and clarity. It was a release to see what needed to be done and to do it. Wh
en the pressure was highest was when everything made sense.
“Haven’t you ever wondered why I rarely argue with you? Except when you are being totally ridiculous, like right now.” Blair zinged back the chintz pillow at me. “Dr. West recommended I point out to you this is not an ill-advised back-up plan designed to put me at risk. Over the Columbus Day weekend, he needs us to pick up something for him and we are both going.”
And there it was. The extra information I sensed she had been withholding was that we were part of a team again, just like always. Blair beamed a triumphant smile at me from under her Greg Louganis wall collage. She met my serious stare and continued, “After you went to Charlottesville with Reid, Dr. West called and said he was forming a team. He told me he had secured a commitment from Patrick Riordan and that once he got the data, I would need to memorize it. He told me I would take my cue from you and that it would be obvious when the time came to act. On the Sunrise organizational chart, Dr. West put your team at the bottom, probably knowing you wouldn’t scroll through it all right away, and he listed my name right next to Patrick’s—it was a nice touch. “
I pretended to gag myself with one of my fingers and she threw another pillow at my head. “Is that why you all didn’t ask any questions when we showed up with the computer disk at Gary’s party? I was too distracted at the time to think about it but I wondered about it later.” Once again, I was relieved Dr. West had used his precognitive gifts to put safety nets in place. It made my transition to learning about Sunrise much smoother despite his duplicity about his “death.”
“Yep. Dr. West wanted the four of us to open it together and he designed it that way as a security system. If you remember, Reid figured out the disk password, Patrick uncoded the data, you utilized the information, and I had to memorize it. Dr. West wasn’t going to leave a disk that valuable unprotected. If he does all that for a computer disk, think about what he does for those he cares about. Have a little faith.”
The Light Bringer's Way Page 2