Illusionary

by LeAnn Mason

  Seeing the sheepish expression Holden displayed must have been the tipping point for my mother, because just then her decision solidified. "Holden, is it?" At his nod, she continued with the coolness Sages were known for. "Would you care to join us for dinner?" With how the words were delivered, you would have thought she didn't care whether he chose to join us, but I could hear the truth behind the facade.

  If Holden didn't accept, he would never have an ally in my mother. Glancing my way, she caught my raised eyebrow and promptly shut down her thoughts while her shoulders stiffened and she narrowed her eyes at me. This was why she and I would never be close. Most Sage believed their minds were sacred and above reproach, so my being able to see below the surface rankled, especially with there not being an “off” switch, or rather an “on” switch.

  It seemed Sage were only at ease around telepaths who were more limited in their abilities. Those limited by touch were the most easily accepted; it was easy to avoid contact. My mother was not the exception. Still, Alana Dae gave indifference the ol’ college try.

  “Nathalee, Jade wanted me to tell you that her parents have calmed slightly and she went home for the time being.” I nodded. It made sense that the Danforth’s would want as much time with Jade under their roof while it was still her home. I hoped they were able to enjoy the remaining time.

  Holden looked at my mother, and appropriately reading the situation, gave a brief nod of acceptance. With a stiff return nod and a mild bump in her regard, my mother opened the screen door and ushered us both into the house.

  "I'm almost done with dinner if you want to take a seat." She wiped her hands on the red towel again and headed toward the kitchen, which emitted the heavenly smells of pot roast and potatoes. As my mother's internal dialogue began cataloging what she needed and how to arrange the table, I was set to follow when I realized that I was in need of a shower to cleanse myself of the earlier events. I wasn't sure if I should bring it up to my mother, or what. Did she need to know? Would she care? I mean, he was just a Primal. As it stood, I didn't have time for the works, so a change and wipe down would have to do.

  "I gotta change," I gestured down at myself in explanation. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll only be a moment." I threw over my shoulder as I hurried down the hall to my room. I rummaged through my dresser until I found a nice but comfy set of clothes—a gray V-neck tee and stretchy pants—and quickly shucked the clothes I had on in favor of what I'd found.

  As I pulled the shirt down my torso, I shuffled across to the bathroom to wipe myself down with a rag and splash my face. I wasn't wearing much makeup and my mascara was waterproof, or so it claimed. I guess we'd find out for sure. I made quick work of cleaning and double checked the mirror before I headed out. Not great, but it could be worse, I guess.

  Color was returning to my cheeks and my hair was somewhat orderly after I smoothed water over it, but I looked tired. My blue-green eyes were greener at the moment and a bit red from the stress of the afternoon. At least the mascara didn't run.

  As I came back into the sitting area, Holden was still standing, his hands clasped behind his back as he wandered the room, taking everything in. He was currently stopped at the fireplace examining a picture on the mantle. This one had my father and me at the gardens laughing, his arm around my shoulder, mine around his waist. I remembered this day.

  Dad and I, and even Mom, trucked out to the gardens for a picnic under the trees on the beltway between activity areas. Dad brought a Frisbee and we tried trick throws for an hour, finally ceding defeat and collapsing in laughter and hunger. Mom hadn't participated in the shenanigans but it hadn’t surprised me. It was a good day, and just a few months ago. I sighed at the remembered fun. Those days would most likely be few and far between now. Especially with me moving out.

  The sigh seemed to alert Holden to my return. Once again, I told Holden to make himself comfortable and gestured toward the sitting area before turning to join my mother in the kitchen. I took two steps before I realized Holden was directly behind me.

  I want to help your mother, he said, correctly deciphering the question I was just about to ask. I felt my face soften from the quizzical look it had held the moment before as my mouth tipped into a half smile. I nodded my understanding and continued on my way. As we entered the kitchen area, I announced our intentions to my mother. She wasted no time giving us each bowls and directing us toward the dining table.

  I noticed Holden taking in everything around him. It hadn’t changed much in my memory, but I found myself wondering what he thought of the room, of the house with its gray-blue walls and how it compared to his.

  I knew all the people on my street. I had grown up here, much like my parents had since my father took his job with the hospital. This was his provided housing, but he'd had a lot of work done by grateful Primals. People who didn't have a lot but wanted to do something for a man they respected. Connor Dae had earned the respect of the whole community for the work he did, and those he helped.

  The clinking of silverware derailed my now sightless stare out the bay window. Refocusing my eyes on the room in front of me, I shook my head slightly to dispel the fog. I quickly laid the plates between the silverware which had been placed neatly at either side of each seating area. The brightly colored place mats featuring random geometric outlines, all fighting for space, screamed Alana Dae. I quirked a small smile thinking how my mother embodied the stereotypes.

  The rest of the setup was quick and efficient, just as Mom liked. Holden's thoughts were simply to be helpful to her while Mom's were trying to figure him out. Her curiosity was obviously piqued, which meant this could be an interesting meal. I'd have to stay on top of the conversation to make sure my mother didn't ask questions inappropriate for someone she had just met. With the thoughts swirling around that big brain of hers when she looked toward Holden, I knew I'd have to dictate the conversational tone this dinner set. So much for an easy evening.

  Once we were all settled at the table, the meal nestled invitingly in the center, we paused for a quick prayer of thanks, which seemed to surprise Holden. At my pinched brows, Holden filled me in, admitting that he hadn’t been sure logical thinkers, which my mother clearly was, believed in a higher being.

  I tried, and failed, to hide the wry smile that spread across my face. This would be an interesting evening. I decided to steer the conversation, circling back to today's ordeal. Shame lit my cheeks as I realized I hadn't worried about the man since Holden had opened up about his Primal ability. I cleared my throat quietly and prepared to tell my mother what I had witnessed, all the while wondering what her reaction would be.

  It occurred to me that though this day had marked something new for me, the old still lingered. I still had one more day of work. One more day until I was thrown into the new life I had decided on.

  As I opened my mouth to let the events of the afternoon fly, there was a multi-beep tone which emitted from Holden's direction. I snapped my mouth shut and watched as he twisted his wrist to look at a large square affixed to his wrist, much like a watch would be. I was completely absorbed in the curious thoughts ballooning in my head. How does a man who cannot speak, communicate when not seen?

  Holden tapped the face of the device and swallowed what he had eaten and lifted his napkin to wipe his mouth. He lifted the device for us to see and shot a questioning look toward my mother, effectively asking my mother if he could accept. She nodded and watched with as much fascination as I when Holden scooted away from the table and accepted the link.

  The commander's booming voice rang out in greeting for his nephew as he moved back toward the living room. I cocked my head in interest as I heard a responding click from Holden, much like a sound he used to tell Raven to speed up. Interesting.

  My mother and I wore matching expressions of fascination as we realized Holden was clicking his tongue from behind his teeth in order to reply to Commander James's inquiry. Once again, my mother's mind went into overdrive, now thinki
ng up devices which could aid Holden in speech.

  Her thoughts were soon shoved to the rear of mine, as Holden began walking back in our direction and I caught what the call was about. Reality of the day’s events came crashing back. The Primal male who had been violently struck by a car earlier in the day, the man I had seen nearly killed, was in surgery.

  Commander James would like for us to meet him at the hospital soon, to see if we can determine the cause of his untimely sprint.

  I nodded. "Mom, is Dad at the hospital tonight? He's working ER, right?" At my questions my mother’s brow bunched but she answered in the affirmative.

  "What happened?"

  So I told her. Recounting the incident—I firmly believed it could not be called an accident—and how I watched as the man was struck with enough force that most would have died, she brought her hand to her mouth to cover her gasp. Her eyes were wide and her mind was turning, analyzing.

  "No one helped, Mom," I said quietly, remembering with fresh horror how the gawkers just…watched. "I need to get to the hospital." My mother was still lost in her own musings, so I gently shook her by the shoulder hoping to regain her focus for just another moment. When her eyes slowly slid to mine, I asked to borrow the car.

  The car was a luxury not all had. Seeing as it was something we needed to get from the NEs, there were strings attached, as well as a hefty price tag. Dad got one as part of his stipend for ER work. So he could get to the hospital quickly if an emergency arose, though he rode a bike when working normal shift.

  My mind, once again wandered, wondering if enforcement was a position which would garner a vehicle. The press of jagged metal into my palm forced me from my musings. I gave my mother a brief hug and headed across the kitchen to the door leading into the garage.

  CHAPTER 13

  THE TRIP TO THE hospital was uneventful, for which I was thankful. I didn't need any more events today. Holden was tense and his thoughts were determinedly focused on searching out this perp—a new nifty enforcer word for me—and stopping him from harming more people.

  I pulled into an assigned parking space for Physicians Only. The hospital, and the ER, in particular, were spaces where not only a large number of people gathered, but people who would have loud and intense mental voices. A place where I had a very hard time shutting people out. Luckily, I remembered to bring my earbuds.

  As we emerged from the car, I warned Holden I would be putting them in to drown out the anguish. He nodded in acknowledgement, and with a hand at the small of my back, allowed me to lead the way.

  The last rays of sunlight were fading over the horizon, leaving the cloudless sky a blazing orange, reminding me of the day I met Holden, officially anyway. My cheeks flamed with color at the remembered interaction, at his reaction to learning I could hear him.

  The warmth of his hand at my back was like a pulse, pulling me to the current moment. Back to the hospital and its fluorescent illuminations spilling into the burgeoning evening. I took a moment to fill my lungs with the last of the crisp, cool air. The air in the hospital would be rife with malady and disinfectant, stifling with its intensity and made all the worse by the heat of many bodies in tight spaces under hot lights. So breathe deeply while you can, Nat.

  I positioned my earbuds in the appropriate ear and tried to get lost in the beat, the lyrics. This song had a great recurring drum beat though the lyrics were slightly melancholy. Maybe I’d pick a peppier one…

  "Ready?"

  Holden gave a nod and a small quirked smile graced his lips. Nat, I've been here before. I started my music, the familiar beats allowing my muscles to relax. Just that one act, turning on a melody, no matter what tempo or range, allowed me to get lost. Lost in the intent, in the words, which were so carefully thought out. I relaxed further.

  The hand at my back once again urged me forward, and after a few strides we breached the doorway, the insistent tone of electric classical buoying my resolve. It was just as cloying as I knew it would be, but the music had its desired effect, both mentally and physically.

  Holden was on a mission as he headed directly for intake. We stopped at the glass partition and the small woman behind it. No, not woman, girl. I hadn't seen her before, which meant she was fairly new, though it had been months since I’d been here. Hadn't realized that until just now…she had thick, unruly chestnut hair which framed a round face with thin lips and round brown eyes, made all the more comically large by the bottle glass thick eyewear she was sporting.

  Hoo hoo, Holden chimed as I removed one earbud.

  I spluttered a laugh before I could stifle it, and pressed my lips firmly together, raising an eyebrow at Holden as I tried not to let another escape. That gorgeous quirk of lips once again graced his face as his eyes danced with mirth. Apparently I wasn't the only one to draw an owl comparison.

  C'mon, darlin’, tell the nice girl why we're here. Holden's deep timbre rumbled in my head. I had never seen him playful. It was so not the time, but I loved it. I would add it to my list of things to bring out in him more often.

  "Hi, we received a call from Commander James that a car crash victim was in surgery and to meet with him. Could you point us in the right direction?" I tried my best to be perky and charming, ending the inquiry with a smile and lift of eyebrows. The girl, whose name tag read Jessica, continued looking at her computer screen as if we weren't there, scrunching her brow and puckering her thin lips as though working out a tough problem. Her mind was whirling, looking for a name. It was like a litany, and I was going to disrupt it.

  I thumped on the glass between us with an open hand. "Excuse me," I began politely. The sound finally broke through her haze, causing her to jump slightly. She settled, then one at a time: straightened her back, straightened her glasses, and straightened her scrub top. Only when finished did she finally look at us.

  "Can I help you?" Her eyes widened even more as they roved Holden, though looking at her you couldn't be sure if it was from astonishment or intrigue…but I could hear her secret appreciation of him, though she automatically thought him beneath her because it was obvious he wasn't Sage. I really hated this divide we'd allowed in our homes but I didn't have time to worry about it at the moment.

  "Yes, hi." I cleared my throat as I tried to get back on task. "We were contacted by Commander James about a car crash victim who came in earlier. We were informed that he was in surgery, could you point us either in the direction of the commander or the patient?"

  With a small huff, she pushed the glasses, which had once again slipped down, back up her nose, turned her attention to the computer and began typing. Her glasses must be heavy, what with the whole bottle attached…

  I shook myself slightly to waylay the errant and unkind thought, only to realize she was once again on the task we interrupted, instead of the one I asked for as she mumbled internally about not wanting to have to help Primals. So she knew who my victim was, and was stalling. Nuh uh.

  I knocked on the partition again, fist closed this time. A falsely polite knock, which did not reveal the threat my words carried. "Oh, Jessica," I singsonged. "Before you decide to blow me off, know that my name is Nathalee Dae." The typing stopped. "Dae, as in Doctor Connor Dae." Pause for dramatic effect, "You might just jeopardize your recruitment…" I let the words hang.

  She looked up at me then, wide eyed and once again comically resembling an owl as her mouth formed an O. "So again…car crash victim? The Primal." I emphasized the word just to drive it home. She was in this position to help people, all people, not just those she wanted.

  Blink. "Um, yeah, let me check for a room number," another push of glasses and a scrunch of brows, "Yeah, his name is Rolph Duggan. He's slated for room three fourteen. Take the elevator—"

  "I know my way around the hospital, thank you, Jessica." I waved a hand dismissively in her direction, turning away from the window and heading across the waiting room toward the bank of elevators gleaming like industrial refrigerators under the harsh fluorescen
t lighting. The squeaking of shoes across the gleaming linoleum flooring with every step, letting me know Holden moved with me. Geez, being here is a constant assault on the senses, I couldn't understand how Primals handled it.

  There were Primals who worked as orderlies or security to help with the physical aspect of medical care that many Sages couldn't handle. Either their senses weren't heightened—unlikely—or they simply ignored or learned to tune it out. A trick I would most like to work on concerning my telepathy.

  Holden bumped my shoulder as we waited for the elevator, a mischievous grin on his face when I looked at him.

  That was awesome. It's really hot watching you get all authoritative. There was that playfulness again. Maybe I could be good for Holden. I grinned back at him. We must have looked like we were up to no good as we stood facing the silver doors and grinning like idiots at each other. The grin slowly slipped from Holden's face as his pupils overtook the beautiful blue of his eyes, his look nearly melting me with heat.

  The arriving elevator broke the spell we once again found ourselves cocooned in, the doors opened with a cheerful ding, allowing us entry to the sterile interior. The ride to the third floor was short but seemed longer as I purposely avoided meeting Holden's gaze. We were here to get information, to help give a man justice for a wrong committed, if I was in fact right in my assessment of the situation.

  But that's what we were here to do, not get lost in each other’s eyes like lovestruck teens. I was not lovestruck. Keep telling yourself that, Nat. I tried to focus more on the music still pouring into one ear to distract myself. Words about young love filtered through my consciousness along with the light sounds of a piano’s melody… so not helping.

  My stomach rose and then dropped as the elevator made its arrival on the third floor with another ding. We stepped out into the recovery reception area. This was the green floor. All the walls were decorated with a thick green stripe at the top where the walls met the ceiling. Color coding was a quick and efficient way to tell where you were in the hospital. It was often a madhouse, and with so much going on constantly, attendants often ended up in the wrong places.