by LeAnn Mason
“Why did you assault Jessica Fellers outside the hospital yesterday evening?”
The woman focused her attention on Devlin, narrowing her eyes in contempt before speaking slowly, as if he were of no consequence. “Is that her name?” She tensed. “She was berating a child, had raised her hand to strike the boy.” As per usual when recalling an intense situation, she visualized it again, raising her ire, much as the first assault perpetrator had. But it was perfect. The mental frequency, the imagery, was the work of our illustrious illusionist.
I breathed a small sigh of relief, then instantly felt guilty. I tapped on the glass two times to indicate that I had confirmation of tampering, and Devlin continued his interview by clueing the woman in on the fact that what she saw was fabricated, after which she crumbled into disbelief and began to sob. There was now one more NE in the world who would distrust enhanced. This one was stuck with us in exile.
I left the station with a heavy heart and dragging feet, though I was glad to only have one case at the moment. I hated that we were being given a bad name. There were bad apples everywhere, in every town, and of every race. I couldn’t let it get to me, and the ninnies couldn’t condemn us all.
That night, my dad surprised me by bringing enough of Mom’s homemade meatballs and apple pie for the whole squad. I loved that he came by, that I still had the opportunity to see him outside of work. I missed him, I missed my mother as well, though to a lesser degree which made me sad. I needed to try harder. If I could shield my telepathy from doing its thing so completely, maybe she wouldn’t feel as uncomfortable around me, but tonight I wanted to focus on having my father here.
We laughed and ate as a unit, for once forgetting our differences and acting as if we were in fact a team, after of course, I was berated by everyone for not having the mental faculty to think an encounter with our suspect was important information which needed to be shared amidst those attempting to capture him. Their words. After the tongue lashing and notification that Holden would be my ever-changing shadow, it was thankfully dropped and many embarrassing training stories were told, inducing several flushes of embarrassment from each member and guffaws from the others.
At about twenty one hundred hours, aka 9 p.m., Dad decided to call it a night and gave me his trademark bear hug as I walked him to the front door.
“Love you, baby girl.” He kissed my forehead, gave me a little squeeze, then pulled open the door to head into the night. I stepped onto the porch after him, lifting my hand in a farewell wave as I closed my eyes and allowed the night sounds to envelope me. Crickets and bullfrog songs rang through my head and released the last of the day’s lingering tension. Tomorrow was Holden’s day to impart his wisdom upon me. I couldn’t wait.
CHAPTER 22
HOLDEN TOOK HIS TRAINING time at the barn, telling me that understanding body language and communicating with an animal would help me in reading people. While I could read others’ minds, their actions were often not telegraphed, so I thought it couldn’t hurt. Raven was who he’d always bring out for me to groom and work, but I made sure to still lavish attention on Jasper. I couldn’t have my big buddy mad at me.
The first several visits consisted solely of grooming and guiding Raven at a walk from the ground. Next, I was allowed to saddle him and put him through actual work on a long line. It taught me the cues and body language which Raven responded to, as well as what his body did and how his mind reacted; useful for reading body language and consequences, especially from afar. Finally, Holden allowed me into the saddle.
I was so excited, I kissed him before I thought better of it. He smiled triumphantly, and I blushed as I came to the flat of my feet.
"So, uh, yeah. You're going to let me up there today?" I pointed to Raven's back as he stood quietly in the ties awaiting our ministrations. "Like really? I get to drive?"
Well, I'll let you up there, yes, but you're going to be on the lunge line…in the round pen.
"Ugh." I rolled my eyes. The round pen was just that: a circular pen just big enough for the horses to exercise without the human losing control. It had close quarters and ensured that the horse couldn't ignore someone in the center.
The lunge line was like a really long leash. It was insulting. I glared at Holden, showing my displeasure at the thought with my expression; or so I hoped. "I'll give you the round pen, but I don't need the leash." I felt like a child in a tantrum. All I needed was to stomp my feet.
No deal. This is your first time up there, Nat. I won't risk it. I won't risk you. The thought once again set his eyes blazing silver as he looked at me with furrowed brows, determination written across his hardened features, matching his protective thoughts.
"You really don't like that thought do you?" He shook his head slowly, deliberately. "Why? I don't see your eyes change at the thought of anyone else getting hurt. Why me?"
Taking a swaggering step toward me, Holden invaded my bubble of personal space. My chest nearly touching his, I began to labor for breath as I looked into his still blazing eyes, which refused to release me from their hold. His body seemed to swell, to get even taller while we stood in silence.
I care about you, Nat. The others I feel responsible for, but you? You mean more to me. I couldn’t bear it if you were hurt. Especially if that hurt was my doing.
"Even if I get hurt, Holden, it wouldn’t be your fault. Never your fault. My decisions are my own." Then I added deliberately, making sure he could see my conviction, then brought my palm to rest on his solid chest, feeling his heart gallop at our topic of conversation. "I'm not as breakable as I seem." I couldn't tell him the extent the truth of that statement held, not yet, but I wanted him to believe that I could do this, any of it. All of it.
We stood in the musty barn, dust floating like butterflies around us in beams of sunlight shooting through the open stall doors. The smell of dirt, sweat, animal, and pine mingled to create the calming scent I always relaxed into while here. I breathed it in, trying not to show just how much I needed him to believe in me. He must have gotten the message because he deflated a bit and looked down at his feet. His hands now rested on his hips—those narrow, glorious hips—as he kicked his boot back and forth through the dirt, a “line in the sand” at his side.
Making a decision, he brought his eyes back to mine, brows furrowed in displeasure. All right, he articulated. I will do my best to allow you to make your own decisions—your own mistakes. He raised his finger, and an eyebrow at me, clicking his tongue when I attempted to interject, But if you wish to do anything more than walk Raven from his back, you will be on a lunge line today.
Well, crap. I really thought I had him softening. I felt his conviction, so I knew if I pushed any more, he would just tell me no and be done. I couldn't have that. I needed to get up there. Needed to feel that thousand pound animal underneath me and have faith that our communication was solid, that we would take care of each other. A true partnership. One like the squad needed to embody.
One day, maybe.
Forty-five minutes later, I gingerly dropped from Raven's back and into the dirt of the round pen. A rather large dust cloud wafting up from my not so graceful departure. Raven turned his head toward me and tossed it twice. I think he was happy I was off. Riding the horse was much harder than Holden made it look.
First off, the animal was so big, that every step sent my body into a dip, and my reaction was to grip. Gripping made your body tighten and tip, which in turn severely hindered my base support and ability to influence the horse. Oh, and FYI, gripping makes horses go faster. Learned that as well. Trotting was pretty smooth on Raven until the gripping sped him up, then I went a little tipsy.
I would never admit it to Holden, but I was glad he had a hold of the lunge line today. Raven tolerated me well, but when needed, Holden was there to bring him back. I used and stretched muscles I didn't even know I had, and I knew without a doubt, I would be sore tomorrow. At least until my healing kicked in. It was nice that I didn't have the
recovery time the others had, but it was also suspicious. I had taken to attributing it to my Primal heritage, saying that Primals recovered faster, which was true. They didn’t need to know that mine was so much more than the standard repair rate.
So far there had been no instances where I really had to explain why one moment there was a wound and the next not. I hoped I could continue with the evasion, but something told me my time was running out. My only hope was that whoever witnessed my ability would keep it in confidence. I didn't need the light shined on me any more than it would be one of these days for working in a physical capacity.
Don't get me wrong, the Sages who knew that my father, and therefore, I, was a hybrid, didn't like me solely for that fact. Mention the mind reading thing and I was a plague, not a gift, so there wasn’t much different on that front…but if they figured out I could heal physical ailments faster? I think overzealous Sages, who could be almost psychopathic in their clinical assessments and demeanor, would want to use me as a lab rat. To dissect why I am the way I am, to advance themselves. They wouldn't see the problem with experimenting on me.
So I hid my healing, which was why I had not been allowed to do physical things while a part of the Sage community of Minefield. Now that was shot, and I could only hope that things worked out, that people were better than we gave them credit for.
Holden and I finished cleaning Raven and set him loose in the pasture for the afternoon, where the first thing he did was trot to a big dirt patch near the water trough—and roll. I had learned that horses apparently detested cleanliness. If their stall was clean, it was their cue to urinate or defecate in the middle of said spotlessness, and if you had rinsed them off or given a full-on bath, you could bet it wouldn't be five minutes before they were rolling around in the dirt. Case and point: Raven at that moment.
Crazy creatures.
I turned away as Raven finished his ministrations and ran off farther into the pasture to join the others already happily munching on the grass. I saw what Holden did at that moment—me. My blondish hair was a mess in its ponytail, cheeks flushed, and blue-green eyes bright. The kicker was the small smile tugging at my lips. I looked happy. I was happy. There was even a dimple.
I liked where I was at in my life for once. I was so glad I had decided to move forward with both the horses and the task force. I'm pretty sure the glow that exuded from me wasn't actually there though. That little detail being only a part of Holden's thoughts.
I looked away, finding a nasty looking smudge of something smeared across my left collar and shoulder. There were little orange chunks clinging to my shirt amidst greenish looking slobber. Awesome. I had been inducted into Raven's slobbery affections when I started bringing him carrots. He loved to rub his face on me after I had given him his treats, leaving trails of multi colored, and textured, slime in his wake.
Wanna grab some lunch?
"Sure, where?"
We began a slow stroll toward the barn to continue our clean up, trucking by a couple people on their way to the riding areas. I definitely saw more people now that I wasn't only passing through on my way home in the afternoons. I didn't get many sideways looks either because these people didn't know me, didn't know I was a Sage hybrid. My height kinda ruled me out for the norm, making my time here that much better.
What sounds good? Pizza? Raised eyebrows accompanied the question as he looked down at me. Holden was totally craving pizza, so much so, he was practically salivating.
I chuckled. "Sure, pizza sounds great."
We gathered all the paraphernalia from today's activity. Holden grabbing the grooming box as I cleaned up Raven's "mess" in the aisle.
Reaching the truck, Holden unlocked and opened my door, waving me up into the passenger seat, closing it once I settled. Another new thing, we had an old truck we used now. It was too far to walk from the farmhouse to town in any kind of timely manner, so we had a few older, but reliable vehicles, which were for the partner groups of our team.
This truck was an older model, which had been cast off by its former owner, thus relegating it to Minefield life. That's how we got most our vehicles, especially seeing as we didn't earn money in the amounts the outside world did. So, sometimes people would donate their old vehicles to the programs which provided them for our towns. They weren't usually pretty, and definitely weren't fancy but they worked when needed, and I used it now that I wasn't living within a mile of all my trafficked areas.
As we drove toward Godfather's, a great little pizza place with a very cliché name, I pulled my music player and earbuds from the console and tucked them into my pocket. I wanted to give Holden my attention so I tried not to use the musical escape route around him unless I needed it.
We were becoming more comfortable around each other and having fewer awkwardly heated moments, especially at the farmhouse. The others had stumbled across us gazing at each other, or even kissing, too many times and now we were much more aware, and selective in our isolation. In turn, we had an easier, more fluid relationship. We could be ourselves, the selves that not too many truly saw. It was glorious and made me appreciate him even more.
We exited the truck at the curbside parking in front of the pizzeria. I hopped down from the high vehicle just as Holden rounded the hood and stepped onto the walkway in front of me. He made a gentlemanly sweeping gesture, grandly allowing me to enter before him. I shook my head and chuckled at his antics. "Why, thank you, good sir!"
I secretly loved this playful side of Holden, the one no one took the time to see. I loved that I got to peek behind the curtain, that he felt comfortable enough to let me. I opened the door and breathed the fragrant aromas which immediately engulfed me: marinara, melted cheese, garlic, rising dough and various meats. Drool.
Holden inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, savoring the smells just as I had before putting his hand at the small of my back and walking us farther into heaven. We ordered a large supreme with extra cheese and a basket of garlic knots and topped it off with iced tea. We meandered to a small table in the corner, away from the doors and ovens and found a seat.
The small, red, vinyl-covered chair Holden chose looked to barely hold his weight and creaked ominously as he settled into it. He balanced there for a moment, his arms spread wide, like he was waiting for it to come out from underneath him at any moment. When it held, Holden settled his weight fully, depositing his keys and phone on the small remaining portion of table top before leaning forward on his elbows, his hands clasped one over the other as he watched me with a twinkle in his eye.
"What?" I drew out the word, wary of the look he was giving me. He just smirked and reached forward to take a long pull of his iced tea. I did the same, looking around the restaurant, taking in the ambiance.
This place definitely tried to emulate the things which movies and such showed to be inherently "Italian." I didn't know the owner so I wasn't sure if there were any Italians in their family tree, or even if those stereotypes rang true. That was my major problem with our living arrangements in Minefield; this was it—all we ever knew.
I had never seen an ocean, or even a lake. I didn't know if Italian food was the same in Italy or if what we knew was just some poor imitation of greatness, though I assumed the latter to be true.
There were so many places, so many things that we would never see. I could never experience different accents and cultures or see ancient ruins…tropical paradises were completely out of the question. I had never seen a lion or even a starfish, other than via the internet. What I wouldn’t give to see the glistening waters of the open ocean.
We were more ignorant than babes.
I was jolted from my perusal of the red checkered tablecloths and jolly fat guy in an apron and white chef hat—their logo, as our pizza was unceremoniously dropped onto our little table by the rather unenthusiastic girl who delivered it. We thanked her as she wandered behind the counter into the kitchen, receiving no acknowledgement of our gratitude.
Holden dug in
with gusto, grabbing the slice which looked to have the heaviest load of toppings and taking a large bite. The funny thing about mental conversations was that you could still hold them while eating. Well, others could. No one heard my thoughts, so I still had to speak. This meant that I did not have the luxury of being understood or even polite by speaking while attempting to chew my cud. So I let Holden talk and relegated myself to answering via head nod.
You did really well today, Nat. You recognized when you were getting unbalanced and corrected. That is very good. That awareness will allow you to make corrections much sooner, keep you from getting hurt. All this while chewing vigorously, Raven responded fluidly to you. How did it feel for you? Is it what you expected? He once again raised his eyebrows in question, as seemed to be his go to expression when inquiring.
"It was a very weird sensation at first. The dip from side to side was disorienting. I don't know why I wasn't expecting it." I shrugged and picked the onions off my slice of pizza. "It was cool to feel how each thing I did garnered a response from Raven, good or bad." I blushed remembering when I got a little worried and squeezed him. The resulting rush of forward motion was a great reminder of just how much power I was attempting to harness, foolish really.
Holden's thoughts had drifted back to my lesson, his thoughts like a highlight reel of the time we spent with Raven. I blushed again. I looked wrecked, hair flying all directions, cheeks flushed. Many times, I had a pretty intense look of concentration, creases between my eyebrows and biting my lower lip. But again, Holden seemed to still find me attractive. The images were undoubtedly better than real life.
Suddenly, another mental signature broke through my reel, one I hadn't felt in weeks.
Our illusionary.
We were in a corner which was away from the counter where a youngish man stood perusing the menu above the register. I kicked Holden under the table to get his attention. I knew we needed to do something, I just didn't know what yet. I leaned forward, nearly hugging the tabletop in my attempt to be close enough to whisper to Holden.