Aftermath (27 page)

I wasn’t surprised to see Claire sitting on a stool at the island, but I didn’t expect to see Matt beside her. I felt my face go pale and was suddenly sick to my stomach. Melissa jumped out from behind Drew and screamed my name.

“Surprise!” Lucas held up the hand connected to mine and leaned down as if to kiss me. Instead, I turned my head.

“Wha-What… are you doing here? Oh-my-god!” I said to Melissa.

“I know. I couldn’t tell you,” she said.

“Hey! Missed you,” Lewis, Melissa’s boyfriend, said and then gave me a hug.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Matt stand up. The look on his face was cold, though he attempted a weak smile when our eyes met.

By the time Matt reached me, I was crying, full-blown tears.

Ben's Story

“She saw you,” I said to Bianca after Emma left the window of the vacant house on Lake Bell. “You realize that, don’t you?” Bianca Beringer was smart, beautiful, and incredibly annoying. Yet, I promised Jorgenson I’d give her a chance.

She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side.

“You shined, Bianca… when you came through the portal. Did you do it on purpose?”

Her hard eyes softened.

“I know you’ve got field experience. You have to know how to contain the aura when you shift.” I tried to control my voice.

“I… I…” Bianca began. “I didn’t think she was that perceptive.”

“She’s high right now. Of course she’s more perceptive in this state of mind.” I raised my hands in the air and quickly dropped them to my side. “Exactly what experience have you had in the field? I mean, come on, Bianca. This is rookie 101 training here.” I wiped my brow.

“I… I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t realize she’d be here. I didn’t think anyone would be here, actually.” Bianca seemed sincere.

I paced the old living room with the window overlooking the lake. It was calm and peaceful, a typical fall day on the inlet. Though its serenity didn’t relieve my anger.

“Where are we, anyway?” she asked aloud, while her thoughts filled with other questions.
And why are we here? I thought we were on the trail of the hybrid?

Bianca and I spent the afternoon interviewing the new hybrid detected in Chicago. It was a woman, first one in a century, according to Commander E. She didn’t offer any new locations from the man captured a few weeks earlier, though she did provide an image of one of Victor’s previous disguises, buried deep in her memory.

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “This is where I grew up. The house I lived in when I met Elizabeth… err… ah, Emma,” I said. “And to answer your other questions, we
are
tracking Victor. The sighting the hybrid had was down the road a-ways. I wanna check on Emma first.” I looked her in the eyes. “You can stay here, if you want. I’m going over to Drew’s for a few minutes.”

She nodded. “I’m really sorry,” she mumbled. Her thoughts were apologetic. It wasn’t like Bianca to be humble. She lived a rather privileged life, born to wealthy German parents. She was accustomed to getting most everything she wanted. That was, of course, until her life contract ended abruptly when she was twenty-four years old. She was filled with rage ever since.

“If you’re with me… it’s on my terms. Got it?” I stared through her eyes to her soul. Her shielding power was impressive but not good enough to block me. I watched her spirit genuflect as her human shoulders dropped in surrender.

I turned and left the house, knowing full well she was in tow.

Emma's Story

There was something about the way Matt looked at me that reminded me of the day we broke up, Labor Day weekend. His weak smile didn’t make up for his sad eyes.

Disappointment encompassed me like thick smoke. First Melissa’s, “You’ve changed,” comment followed quickly with a, “But that’s okay,” remark and then there was Matt’s avoidance. His mediocre hug when I arrived reminded me of our final words that night on the island.

“Don’t let Westport change you,” he said back then. It seemed like eons ago now. The memory of that tearful goodbye haunted me. As the evening at Drew’s progressed, I started to feel more like myself. Gone was the lightheaded, dizzy feeling I had. It was replaced by a layer of guilt so heavy my shoulders ached. A permanent image of Melissa’s expression burned in my thoughts and seemed more defined as I came down from my high.

Melissa’s laughter caught my attention. She cozied up on the couch with Lewis, a beer in hand, and chatted away with Drew and Claire. Molly and TJ sat at the island with Trent. I felt isolated and out of place. It was like the first time I went to one of Drew’s parties.

I walked out to the porch to seek refuge. The bright moon cast a shimmer over the dark water. I pulled my sleeves down to my wrists. The fall air was crisp. I wished I had a thicker sweater with me, I thought, when I heard his voice.

“I didn’t expect you to fit in so quickly,” Matt said, leaning against the porch railing exactly like Ben did a month earlier. I wished it were Ben. He left already. “I mean, I’m glad you did. But I… ah…um… well, I guess I didn’t expect you to have a boyfriend already.”

“I don’t,” I blurted out, even though I knew what it looked like. I walked toward him, wanting to reach out to him, to touch him. I raised my hand the way I used to, just before he’d pull me into his arms, but when I realized he wasn’t even looking at me, I quickly lowered it.

“Melissa said you had some-
thing
with a guy. I thought she said his name was Ben.”

I tilted my head. That wasn’t exactly what I said to her.

“I met him,” Matt said. “Ben. Seems nice.”

He glared at me. I turned to look at the dark lake. It was black outside, except for the ripples in the water. I bit my lip, not wanting to cry. I wrapped my arms tight across my chest.

Silence.

I glanced at Matt and looked away quickly. Why did I hurt so badly again?

“Tell me you’re not dating Lucas.”

“I… ah…” I said. Then, anger crept in. “What do you care?”

“I do care. I came here to ask you to homecoming. Then Melissa said you were interested in some guy, but I didn’t think it was Lucas. What’s up with that?”

“I… I don’t like Lucas,” I said, and then mumbled, “not like that. Not really.”

“So you didn’t come to the party together? And you’re not hanging out… or going to the dance with him then?” Matt’s direct question sobered me up completely.

“I… I am… but…”

“But what? He’s always in trouble. You know that, right?”

“He’s not like that.”

“Emma, he got arrested for drugs.”

I shook my head.

“Distribution, Emma. Not just using. Drew talks about him
all
the time. He’s like the local dealer at your school.”

“You don’t
even know him
.”

“I don’t have to, Emma,” he said, turning to face the water. “And to think I was worried about you. I volunteered to help Lewis and his dad today, just to see you.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You should talk.”

He turned back toward me and said, “What does that mean?”

“You’ve got Aimee. You took Aimee…
who I hate
… to the dance and not me.”

“As
friends
!” He raised his voice.

I was silent. Friends?

“You dumped me two weeks before homecoming. What did you expect me to do?”

Tears welled in my eyes. “My dad died. What did you expect from me?” I clenched my teeth, fighting back the anger and waterworks.

He sighed and when he spoke again, his voice was soft. “I know that, Emma. I tried to be there for you.” He reached his hand toward my arm, but I pulled back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

I covered my face with my hands and took a deep breath.

This time, when Matt pulled me close, I let him. He wrapped me in his arms and apologized as I cried. But as soon as his hold loosened, I escaped to the house and took a hit of pot when Lucas offered it.

Ben's Story

So this is where you encountered Victor?

I nodded and motioned for Bianca to keep her thoughts silent. We propelled into the barn on Summit, where I rescued Stephanie Carlson. No sense in risking communication, verbal or mental, for Victor to overhear. I could shield my thoughts and stream in only those I wanted to hear, but I wasn’t certain of Bianca’s abilities and couldn’t take a chance.

The dilapidated barn looked the same as it did weeks earlier. We inspected inside and out, circling around the building and house, but no scent was found and no energy was present. I led Bianca to the back of the farm’s property along the river in hopes of picking up the odor. There was none.

We skimmed the water’s edge and headed east toward Kensington’s farm, the barn where I first picked up the sweet cotton candy and green apple scent of a hybrid.

The property was still and quiet. No lights were on in the house. While Kensington typically retired shortly after dark, this was about thirty minutes earlier than normal. His Chevy truck was parked in the driveway and not in the garage. Keys were under the driver’s visor, but it had been at least a day since the engine purred.

I motioned for Bianca to cover me, as I propelled to the house.

Once inside, the bitter sour smell of hybrids overwhelmed my senses. At least a dozen scents mingled in the living room and kitchen of the old farmhouse. Some old, others fresh.

I summoned Jorgenson after clearing the house and confirming its vacancy.
“Any new transitionees unaccounted for?”
I asked.

“Negative. Not in the US, that is. Why? Wha-da-ya got?”

“Some suspicions. Can you download George Kensington’s file?”

Waves of sound preceded Jorgenson’s confirmation that it was sent. I began streaming critical dates beginning with his life contract. He had three years left before completion. He wouldn’t even exhibit any symptoms. It would be a major heart attack, dead before he hit the ground. But he was not on his deathbed now.

So where was Kensington and why were there so many hybrid scents in his house?

Emma's Story

I stood alone in the park.

It was the same playground where Mom and Dad took me, a few blocks from my old house in Highland Park. The trees were taller and thicker than I remembered.

Moms pushed preschoolers on the swings. Elementary-aged kids ran across the bridge and spun the steering wheel on the upper deck of the play structure. Children and adults mingled around the grounds, but there was no sign of the man in the wool coat.

He called me here, didn’t he?

Yes, he did. At least, that was what I told myself.

I leaned up against the tree and waited. I didn’t see him or hear him, but when he appeared, I wasn’t startled. His fedora peered around the tree first.

“I’m happy he’s found you, Elizabeth.”

“My name is Emma,” I whispered.

“I know.” He didn’t look at me. He focused on the children on the play set instead.

“If you know my name, why then, do you call me Elizabeth?”

“Do you see that girl with brown pigtails over there?” He nodded toward the child on the wooden bridge.

“Yes.”

“In a minute, she’s going to fall. She will slide under the railing and land on her wrist.”

“What? We must help her!” I started to move, but I felt resistance holding me back. I looked at the man beside me. He wasn’t moving. His hands were tucked into his pockets. It was the same wool coat he wore before.

“Sometimes you know what will happen, but you cannot interfere,” he said, solemnly.

We watched the girl fall from the bridge, as he predicted. I looked at him when the girl’s mother rushed to her side. Other mothers scurried over to help. The girl wasn’t moving, but her screams intensified as her mom touched her arm. I could feel her pain in my own wrist and shuddered at the thought of her injury.

The man in the wool coat glanced in my direction. “It wasn’t her time. Today, she will live. She will live until she reaches thirty-nine years old when she will die in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver. She will leave behind a husband and two children.”

I shook my head. “I do not understand.”

“There are things you are sensing, but you haven’t trusted your instinct.” He looked back at the girl on the ground and the chaos around her. He shook his head, as if listening to another conversation. Raising his right hand, he held it parallel to the ground, palm facing down. He mumbled a few words I couldn’t understand. His eyes were closed, and he nodded. A second later, his hand was back in his pocket and his eyes focused on me.

“She will be fine. Her mother was a bit overwhelmed. She now has the direction she needs.”

I watched the mother lift the girl to her feet and brush her off. She held her child’s hand as if checking for bruising, before the girl ran off to the swings.

“You… you just…”

“Yes, I did.”

“But… wh-who are you?”

“Just remember to trust your instincts. The rest will come. I have good things in store for you, Elizabeth.”

“But what if I don’t want Matt to come back to me?” I blurted quickly, sensing our time together was coming to an end.

He smiled and shook his head. “It is not Matthew that’s been waiting for you. Use your instincts.”

A light fog slowly surrounded us, and he began to fade.

“Wait… don’t go!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” he said, and then vanished.

***

I awoke Monday morning earlier than normal. My dream woke me up, and I found myself unable to fall back to sleep. Aunt Barb was already downstairs. I heard the clinking of plates and guessed she was making breakfast. She was a morning person and even though she often left before I did, she always had a plate of food waiting for me.

After showering, I dressed quickly and found a stack of hot cakes, syrup, and sausage on the island as Aunt Barb read the morning paper. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I didn’t need—or want—this much food every morning. I feared it would hurt her feelings.

Instead, I dug in, and thanked her for making it. As usual, she gave me a kiss and headed out before I finished. When she was out of the driveway, I dumped my breakfast in Chester’s bowl. He eagerly devoured my leftovers.

Early mornings at school meant empty halls. I liked this time of day when there was peace and quiet, and no one rushed about. I actually had a chance to think clearly, as I delved headfirst into my locker.

I smelled him before I saw or heard him.

It was a cool and fresh scent, like crisp air I imagined breathing in atop the highest mountain. I turned when I heard Ben’s deep, pleasant voice. He was just inches from me, the closest I had ever been near him. He leaned around the door of my locker with his masculine hand holding the top edge like a shield, separating him from me. His fingernails were perfectly oval and neatly trimmed.

My heart skipped a beat when our eyes met. A gentle smirk flashed across his face.

“Aren’t you supposed to have tons of pictures taped up in your locker?” Ben asked after he swung my locker door open wide and peered inside.

I looked away briefly, trying to contain my smile. My heart skipped again with the realization that he was talking to me, and not to someone else. “I guess I didn’t get around to it yet.”

The hall was quiet, with only a few kids at the other end. We were basically alone.

“I thought you’d have pictures of your boyfriend posted. Matt, is it?” he asked. “I mean, what would he think if he knew you didn’t have his picture plastered up for all of us to see?”

My lips betrayed me, and I grinned. “Um… Matt’s not my boyfriend.” I grabbed my books without looking at him. I was afraid I’d blush.

“Oh.” He hesitated for a second and then continued. “Well, I just wanted to apologize for the other night.”

I glanced up at him.

“I was out of line. You’re free to drink as much as you want. I shouldn’t have said anything… It’s none of my business.”

I stared into his cocoa-brown eyes and reached to close my locker door, but he didn’t move. My fingertips grazed his shirt, and I imagined a rippled stomach underneath. He always looked nice. His deep red shirt complimented his tan skin and dark brown hair. I wanted to touch him, but quickly cleared my thoughts.

We were just friends, if that.

“Thanks,” I said, still holding the door. I felt the blood rush to my face. My stomach felt a little queasy.

“Can we start over?” He extended his hand. I reached for it and nodded.

“Friends.” His grip was firm, yet comfortable, like a good fit. I couldn’t deny how attracted I was to him. I never felt this way about Matt and especially not about Lucas. My cheeks had to be fuchsia. Get control of yourself, I thought.

He smiled, still holding my hand in his.

“So did you finish the homework for calc?” he asked after letting go of my hand.

“Yeah… and you?”

“Pretty easy.”

“I thought so, too.”

He glanced behind me, and then said, “You going to the library for study hall today?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Good. See you later,” he said and left.

Would he really ask if he just wanted to be friends?