Brush of Shade (17 page)

Warm hands
squeezed mine. I tried to return the gesture. My head, too heavy for my neck,
fell forward until my chin rested on my chest. That figures. I made a mess of
everything, just when it had been going so well. Why didn’t my dark memories
stay buried? It’s not like I wanted to see that hand or feel the press . . .
The last piece of memory that I’d been having trouble seeing clearly fell into
place. I gasped, frightened, my wide eyes automatically seeking out Shade.

“I’ve joined
before,” I exclaimed, going cold all over. “But it was cruel.”

“Who was that
man?” Shade demanded, speaking over my words.

“What? You can’t
have. Wait, what man?” my aunt asked, her voice far less certain than it had
been moments before.

“The tree limbs
were hands on my face. They hurt! His voice . . . I can remember now the sinister
sound of it tugging and prodding. Then he got angry and brutal. Why did he hurt
me? Why did he do that to us?” I whispered, clutching Shade’s hands.

Shade and Aunt
Claire exchanged a tense look. Where our skin touched, it felt like I’d grabbed
a stinging nettle bush. Long, tanned arms dissolved into the air. Gentle warmth
ignited. Shade jerked his hands away.

“Do you know
what this means? We can prove one of us killed Warden Ethan,” Shade exclaimed.
 

 “I’m
sorry. I don’t . . . know more.” I said in broken fits, watching Shade’s arms
resume solid shape. “That voice . . . memories hit me sometimes, more lately
since coming to the valley.”

“You’ve nothing
to apologize for.” He rolled his shoulder as he studied my face. “This won’t
do. Share joy with me, so this first of many
joinings
in our valley doesn’t end on a note of fear.”

Joy? I had none
or at least none that I’d go in search of. The last thing I wanted was to end
up in that dark place. I knew it was all in my head, but I still felt the weight
of my father’s body constricting my chest. It would be some time before
memories of that voice ceased haunting my thoughts. I did a mental shudder. My
wobbling boulder came close to toppling.

A hot pulse of
air skimmed my cheek. “I am here,” Shade said, blanketing me with his support.

I had this
irrational urge to order him to saturate my mind with his vibrant personality.
I forced my eyes to blink, focusing on slow moving spirals floating on mountain
lakes and that deep, southwestern drawl that made me feel impossibly right and
safe and home. Pride salvaged the moment. I sipped some water, and then nodded
for him to continue.

One moment I was
staring into Shade’s frosted eyes, and the next billowy clouds descended below
the timber line to settle into the high country meadow, shrouding our exploits
from unwanted eyes. Crisp, damp air filled my lungs and glided across my
bare
arms. Excitement
throbbed
the
air, like the beat of a marching drum. I felt invincible.

Another snippet,
this one full of sharp detail, unfurled the stars of the show, two young boys
so very similar that I needed more scenes to tell them apart. I smiled with
them as they raced across the meadow, leaping over damp, moss covered logs and
burbling brooks. Deep breaths drenched in the sweet aroma of wildflowers
tickled my nose. Cool air slapped my hot cheeks. Wispy seed pods scattered in a
pouf of air. A flock of birds screeched and lifted out of the tall, dewy grass
taking flight, keeping pace.
Exuberance.
Sheer joy of
life folded over me, belonging to me for that brief instance of awareness as I
raced the wind as one of them.

Energy drained
out of my body. I sort of folded forward. Trembling hands cushioned my head
before it struck the table. Disorientated, I listened to the steady drum of a
heartbeat while I tried to sort out who I was.

“Shade?”
A woman
asked,
her voice
high and tight. “Is she alright? Shade, are you?”

With both hands
pressed flat on the table, a man pushed up onto his feet, got halfway up, and
then sunk back onto his chair.

 “Is she in
some kind of shock?” the woman demanded.

“If she’s not, I
am. Olivia?” he asked with a pronounced tremor in his voice.

Warm hands
cupped my chin, tipping my head up to the light. I squinted then gave up trying
to keep my eyes open; it only made the room spin more. At least I agreed with
the name he’d given me. Pieces started to settle back into place, rebuilding
Olivia Pepperdine.

Vibrating
fingers squeezed my chin. “For the love of God, Olivia, say something.”

“What a rush! Is
it always so
mind
spiraling?” I asked, opening my eyes
to foamy seas battering against growing ice fields.

“I’ve no idea
what you’re talking about.” He leaned closer our noses almost touching. “How do
you feel?”

“I know who I am
now.”

“Shade!”
Aunt Claire gasped shrilly, grabbing my hand.

He dropped his
head into his hands, breathing noisily against his palms. “I gave her a basic
taste of what it can be like. To end on a good note, I pushed feelings of
tranquility and initiated a withdrawal.”

“So who won the
race, you or Shadow?” I asked innocently.

Shade’s head
jerked up, his mouth dropping open. Waves crashed against icebergs that were
rising out of frigid seas. He scraped his chair back from the table, thrusting
vibrating hands through his hair and clasping them behind his neck. “You did
it. You pulled out a memory. Either that or I slipped up big time.” His
astonished expression dissolved, replaced by concern. Tension laced his voice
when he said, “Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Maybe I made a mistake. Maybe
your initial order proved too much, and I bowled you over.” Massive ice wedges
ground against each other in overcrowded seas. His chair legs rattled against
the floor. “Olivia, you need to learn to be more careful. I could’ve
permanently scarred you.”

“Are you sure
about the tranquility part? Cause the drowning in anxiety at the end was a bit
of a spoiler.”

“You took that
too? But I’d pulled back.” He spun away from the table, backing into the
refrigerator. “I should . . . I need to speak with Sister Willow.”

Aunt Claire
stood. “Our link was perfectly controlled. What is wrong with Olivia?”

“Wrong?” He
shook his head and stared back at me like he’d never really looked at me
before. “Didn’t you hear me? Olivia might’ve pulled out a memory. For certain, she
scooped up my emotions.”

“Caught up in
the emotions of the moment, you drifted too deeply and allowed her to see;
there’s no harm. It was your intention all along to establish a deeper
connection. She caught it. We should be pleased, not panicked,” Aunt Claire
replied, her voice back to normal now that she’d come up with a solution.

“No, I decided
to hold off until another time. I used my happy memory to graze her mind to
make her feel good. You know my control. I took extra care with Olivia. I tell
you, she took the memory. That explains its unusual degree of crisp details and
why I had trouble shutting it off. It’s been a long day. I should be going. You
did great, Olivia,” Shade said, his tone far from convincing. “I’ll be back
first thing in the morning. Lock up after I leave.”
He
vibe faded before he was halfway out the door.

Confused by his
abrupt departure, I stared at the empty doorway while my aunt silently tidied
up the kitchen. Her continued silence and Shade’s alarmed reaction hung heavily
over the room. Finally, I said without expecting a response, “I thought the
idea was to connect. Figures, I can’t even do that right. Great warden I’ll
make.”

I chose to
ignore the sinister memory if that was truly what it was. Too many pieces were
jumbled in my head. Many of them had melded into my strange nightmares making
separating facts all but impossible. For all I knew, what I’d felt was a
residual from my immobility induced panic at the Cassidy’s. I was even more
messed up than I’d feared.

“Connecting was
the purpose, but the Whisperer in the link controls the access and the depth,”
Aunt Claire surprised me by responding. “If all Shade was giving you was his
emotional state, then that is all you should’ve received. In deeper links, we
exchange thoughts. It’s faster and more complete than speech where people’s
motives are obscured. Memories are rarely exchanged because they’re so intimate
and generally confusing without a broader context. I don’t understand how you
picked up on something he wasn’t aware of displaying, especially if he was
withdrawing. Shade is usually overly cautious with his human partners. This is
troublesome.”

“Hang on. You
said he got carried away and went too deep. Which is it? Is it me? Am I
broken?” I asked shakily.

 “What?
Of course not.
After all, you’re a Pepperdine.”

“You say that
like it has some significance. What could be more shocking than having nonhuman
neighbors that expect me to lead them? Aside from their strange ability to run
like the wind and get into your head, what else do I need to know?”

 She spun
around to face the sink, shoved the faucet on full blast, and snatched up her
sponge. Darn her avoidance. I wanted answers, not protection. Quite possibly
she was once again contemplating packing me off to boarding school.

I ground my
teeth in frustration while she scrubbed my plate spotless. “Silence is another
lie. If I’m going to commit to staying in the valley, then I’d prefer to know
the facts up front. Considering some of the horror flicks I’ve seen, trust me, what
I think up will be pretty frightening.”

“Not like this,”
she said hesitantly. “Personal things are always the most terrifying. I suppose
you have the right to know, and it would be better coming from me than someone
else.”

Like Mr.
Cassidy. Anything coming from him would be staged to shock. Knowing any show of
fear would send her back into protect mode, I tried to recapture the feelings
from Shade’s memory. “I can’t go to bed with this hanging over me. Just tell
me.”

My stomach
clenched while I waited for her decision. By the time she was rinsing the sink,
I was reconsidering my plans to visit
JoAnna
. Aunt
Claire might even agree at this point.

“Alright, I’m
just going to say it, and then we’ll deal with your reaction,” she said at long
last, turning slowly around. “Roland Pepperdine married a Whisperer woman and
they had children. Even though there were other interspecies marriages over the
years, we can trace our connection back the farthest to the first human with a
natural ability that allowed joint human to Whisperer connections. It’s what
made the
Pepperdines
compatible to act as wardens.”

The last of it
competed with the buzzing in my ears for my attention. I wrapped my arms across
my chest, feeling the thumping of my heart rise up into my throat. It took me
two tries to get the words out. “I’m . . . I’m not human! Is that it?” I asked,
pretty certain that I didn’t want to know more. My stomach hurt. I wanted to
crawl under my covers and hope this was a nightmare.

She wrapped an
arm around my shoulders. “Your mother, Marie, was half Whisperer and your dad
was a fifth, approximately. Technically that isn’t accurate because as I said
we go all the way back to the time of Roland. The percentages get rather
complicated. Are you alright?”

“So what does that
make me, a science experiment?” I said in a high, thin voice. “But I’ve seen
plenty of doctors. My blood work would show something abnormal, wouldn’t it?”

“The two species
are not that incompatible, especially over the years as more offspring have
been produced. Roland lost several children through miscarriages and in the
first days of infancy as did others who joined. But now things progress fairly
smoothly. As a rule though, we don’t donate blood, nor do we go in for test
outside of Spring Valley that would look to closely at our genetic makeup.
That’s why you always traveled with detailed medical records obtained from
tests performed at our lab when you were too young to remember. That’s why your
dad made sure we had excellent medical facilities here in the valley staffed by
our doctors.” She paused and stared at me closely. “Maybe you should lie down.
You’re looking a bit pale.”

I rubbed my
arms. I was still me and yet I wasn’t. “I need to be by myself.”

She blocked my
way. “Now that you know do you think differently of your mother or of me? We’re
the same as we’ve always been. There’s nothing to be frightened about.”

“Easy for you to say.
You didn’t just learn that you’re not
one hundred percent human.” My voice broke as a hysterical laugh burbled out.
“They don’t have a box for this on college application forms.”

She sat down in
the chair next to mine and pulled me back onto my seat, gripping my shaking
hands. “Get a hold of yourself. We can’t call Dr. Martins about this
revelation. You have to deal. Olivia, listen to me. As a people, the Whisperers
are struggling to survive. The fact that we are compatible is a godsend. You’re
still you, just with a special twist, an amazing twist.”

An amazing twist?
I debated the validity of those words as I
stared unmoved at the calendar-worthy scene outside my window. Overnight, eight
more inches of snow had fallen. Under the bright morning, sun ice particles
sparkled as though my garden had been sprinkled with fairy dust. My sad smile
reflected back at me in the glass. Daniel used to tease me when I’d say things
like that when I was younger. Was he just being the smug older sibling
tolerating the naivety of his little sister, or had he already known that some
wonders were actually true? I sighed softly. This place was coloring how I
looked at everything.

I leaned my
forehead against the cold glass, trying hard to avoid thinking about anything
in particular. I wasn’t having any more success now than I had all night.
Normally during break I would crawl back into bed and sleep until noon. But
Shade had said he was coming. Early, he had said, so where was he; it was
almost ten thirty?

I wandered down
to the living room, turned on the television, and started flipping channels not
really caring what was on. Thankfully, Aunt Claire didn’t put in an appearance.
Currently
creeped
out was edging aside anxious
fascination. Every few minutes, I swiveled towards the door, certain that I’d
heard a sound and relieved when I hadn’t. A part of me wanted to get something
for my nerves. I’d sure picked the worst time to go cold turkey.

The bickering
between two guests on a talk show distracted me for almost twenty minutes. When
the doorbell rang, I vaulted off the sofa. I skidded to a halt in front of the
door and yanked it open. My comment about punctuality died on the tip of my
tongue.

“Um . . . Mrs.
Cassidy, come in,” I said, the words coming out stiff and uninviting.

I stepped to the
side and called up the stairs, “Aunt Claire, Mrs. Cassidy is here.” When I
turned back, I caught her assessing look that quickly morphed into an anxious
half smile. It was all I could do to speak above a faint whisper. “My aunt will
be down in a minute. Won’t you have a seat in the living room?” I gestured
towards the sofa. I didn’t know about her, but I needed to sit. Unfortunately,
she took a couple steps in the direction of the living room but stopping just
short of entering. I gave a mental sigh when my aunt came in sight.

Aunt Claire held
herself stiff with her expression guarded as she came down the stairs. She
paused briefly to smooth the collar of her shirt before asking, “Sadie, what
can I do for you?”

Sadie Cassidy
had the grace to appear contrite. With her head lowered so she didn’t return my
aunt’s gaze, she spoke in her quiet, refined manner. “Claire, I’ve come to beg
your forgiveness. It would seem we might’ve frightened poor Olivia last night.
Mark meant no harm. It’s these trying times and his tendency to throw himself
full barrel into situations. He regrets that he got carried away. The man’s got
a heap of pride as you well know. Sometimes it falls upon us women to play the
peacemakers. So I came here this morning on my own to plead for forgiveness and
to apologize to dear, Olivia.” She gave us a tremulous smile. “And of course to
you, Claire, for any perceived slight.”

Aunt Claire
looked unmoved. “Mark had no business interfering in my niece’s care. She’s
been through a terrible ordeal. The pace of her introduction into our community
is up to me to decide not the elders or the clans. You may pass that along to
your husband.”

“I see that
you’re still angry. Truly it was only Mark’s concern for the anxiety of his
people that he broached the subject. Olivia seemed so bewildered and
uncomfortable that he thought a gentle touch would alleviate some of her fears.
Again, it was not our place, but you must see that our hearts were in the right
place.”

“Yes, I see.”

“Well, then I
won’t overstay. But if you could indulge me for another moment, I must speak to
you about my son.”

Finally her face
and voice presented a united front. Beneath the sophisticated perfection, an
anxious mother surfaced. While I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d hastened off
to the kitchen to order Helena to comply with Mr. Cassidy’s agenda, I harbored
a slim hope that Trent hadn’t been involved in his parent’s ambitions.

Aunt Claire
moved further into the foyer. “Has something happened?”

“Trent is quite
upset about yesterday. I can’t get him to come out of his room. He’s afraid
you’ll ban him from seeing Olivia or that she’ll refuse to see him.” She
sniffed and dabbed delicately at the corner of her eyes with a scrunched up
tissue. “He’s afraid Olivia will want to leave the valley. He’s blaming himself
for pushing her to go out in the first place.”

Her cool hand
lightly touched my arm. “Please don’t hold it against my son for following his
father’s lead. Trent thought he was helping you cope. Could I tell him that
you’re not mad at him, and that perhaps in a few days it would be alright for
him to give you a call, maybe go out?”

“I guess I’m not
really mad at him,” I said, turning to my aunt for help.

“I won’t
interfere with things between you and Trent. That’s your decision.”

Sadie slipped
the tissue into her purse. “Just between the three of us, Olivia is all Trent
can talk about.” She hugged my aunt. “Please, forgive Mark.”

“I’m not one to
hold grudges. But understand this, I won’t tolerate intrusions into the
Pepperdine Clan’s rights nor mine as Olivia’s guiding relation. Don’t force me
to act as warden towards two of my oldest friends.”

“Warden?
You?”
Sadie gasped, her
delicately curved brows arching. “What about your art shows? You don’t like
being tied to the valley with its . . . upsetting memories?”

“The Pepperdine
obligation requires seasoned attention.”

“If you think
that is for the best. Your decision will come as a surprise to many. Not that
you aren’t capable.”

“Some would say
it was past time I made that decision.”

“Naturally, you
can count on the Cassidy’s for support. I should be off. I’ve got gifts for the
staff to buy. We’ll probably see you later this afternoon at the bonfire. Take
care.”

I let out a long
breath when Aunt Claire shut the door behind her. “Do you believe her?”

“Mark has always
been overbearing and headstrong. He was never one to miss taking advantage of a
situation. I’d like to believe things got out of hand. For now, I suggest we
forgive but remain cautious. As for Trent, see him or not, that is up to you.
He’s quite the hunk or whatever it is you girls say. You could do a lot worse.
Trent’s very much a part of this place. One day he’ll be an elder.”

“Why, Aunt
Claire, are you trying to play matchmaker?”

“I think I’ll go
make a pot of tea and read for a while.”

I trailed behind
her into the dining room. “We’re not going to talk about last night?”

“Maybe later.
I’d like to give you some space to sort things
out.”

This wasn’t the
turn of events that I’d been expecting. At the very least, we could discuss the
bombshell she’d dropped on me last night. So many thoughts had rattled around
inside my head all night, and now I was going to have more time to weave my
thoughts into connections that made me uneasy. The house, with its passage to a
fate I didn’t understand, hemmed me in. I hastened up to my room, donned my
winter coat and related gear, and headed down the back stairs. I performed a
few leg stretches in the mudroom before putting on my boots. For the past month
while in the privacy of my own home, I’d been going longer stretches without my
crutch. Endurance and muscles were slowly returning. It was time to push to the
next level.

With no
particular destination in mind, I wandered around the backyard. My attempt at a
snow angel looked more like a misshapen butterfly. I managed to stack two huge
snowballs together for the base of my snowman, but I’d made them too large, and
I couldn’t get the head lifted up high enough. Finally, I called it quits and
put the face on his head anyways and left it propped up against the poor
snowman’s feet.

The wind picked
up, swirling fresh flakes in my face as I stood up and looked skyward towards
the western slope. Beneath the postcard scene of craggy, snow covered peaks and
spruce laden with snow, it was as inhospitable to the unprepared as it had been
since man or Whisperer had first arrived. In that regards, it mirrored the
undercurrents of this valley hidden beneath Mrs. Cassidy’s polished exterior,
her cultured tone, and her careful choice of words. Just how much of Aunt
Claire’s free-spirited personality would survive the demands of appeasing the
conflicting forces battling for survival? The relief that had come over me when
she’d signed the papers didn’t entirely extinguish my fears. Whether it was now
or in four years, in too many individual’s opinions I would still be that
young, shattered girl and fair game.

The need to have
something solid between me and the deceptively tranquil scene propelled my feet
towards the gazebo. Wind-sculpted drifts curled around the structure, mounding
higher until I was foolishly sinking up to the tops of my boots. I swept my
right foot side to side to shove the snow off the steps. Then, I scurried up
the stairs, ignoring the twinges in my left knee and the tightness of my lower
back.

I deliberately
chose a view that looked out across our yard towards the gardens and my pitiful
excuse for a snowman. I tried to do as my aunt asked. The whole not being
entirely part of the human race thing hung me up. Just as it had last night
while I stared at my ceiling as the hours had crept by. Sure, the reflection in
the mirror this morning had looked the same if you ignored the circles under my
eyes, but I was different. I was part of something unique that could very well
be vanishing from our world. If I could accept that I was still me and not a
monster, then I had to accept the Whisperers as well. I couldn’t see it any
other way, for if I didn’t succeed, then I’d be turning away from all the love
I had for my family. I sighed heavily.
Normal
needed redefining.

“Such a deep sigh for so pretty of a day.
Can I be of help?”
Shade asked in a cautious voice from just inside the entrance to the gazebo.

And there was
him to consider, picking up on my internal battle to right my strange corner of
the world. How could I lump the Whisperers into an unflattering other category
when Shade was so utterly amazing.

He cocked an
eyebrow. “Something is off about your snowman. I can’t quite wrap my head
around it.”

Oh yeah, that
deep drawl that could be both rugged and sweetly creamy took my breath away
every time. “I ran into a snag. I’m out of shape.”

 “Like at
Hattie’s, you just need someone not height challenged.”

“You
offering?”
Foaming seas crashed against a flotilla of ice. I
had the feeling we weren’t only talking about fixing my snowman. In case I was
wrong, I hid the telltale warm glow of my cheeks by slapping the snow off my
jeans.

“Could be, if you agree to come up to the house.”

Get your head
out of the clouds. He’s here because of what happened last night. “You’ve been
talking to Aunt Claire.” Please let her have kept quiet about my nonhuman melt
down.

“
Your
Aunt?” His brows knitted together, and he seemed to
take a moment to order his thoughts. “Right, Mrs. Cassidy stopped by to offer
an olive branch. I can’t say I’m surprised. They had to have been sweating it
out last night, as was I.” He shifted his weight as though he wasn’t sure if he
should stay or go.

In my current
state, I couldn’t be certain what he’d see. Thankfully, my anxiety level had
dipped markedly since his arrival. Best not think about what that meant. I
exhaled slowly when the deeper furrows on his brow smoothed out. Ice flows
melted into crystal-blue seas, leaving behind a cracked, narrow band of white
along the outermost edges of his irises. He stepped closer with a crooked smile
on his face that made my heart skip a beat.

“Guess you were
right. The hero couldn’t take it after all. That doesn’t explain why you look
exhausted. You didn’t go to bed thinking you’d messed up or were wrong in the
head or something did you?” he asked, coming quickly forward to rest his hands
on my shoulders. His gaze lengthened, revealing slivers of white breaking off
and forming clusters of ice islands. “Olivia,” he sighed, “you’re not to think
that way, not for one minute.”

I had to get a
better poker face. On the other hand, I might not be the problem. I turned in
his arms to avoid his uncanny eyes. Privacy apparently wasn’t a barrier when
checking up on my emotional state fell under the purview of
for your own
good
. I took my time responding, waiting until I could speak without
sounding annoyed. After all, I had no proof, and embarrassingly I did tend to
wear my emotions on my sleeve.

“Do you blame
me? When a valley resident freaks out, what am I supposed to think?”

“I did not freak
out. Things needed to be considered, that’s all.”

“Well it scared
me. Don’t do it again.”

At the flash of
tension in his body, I clenched the drawstring for my hood in my fist and
pulled. In case he was angry, I gave it till the count of three before turning
slowly around to face his reaction. “Sorry, it slipped out. I didn’t mean—”

“I know.” After
he rolled his shoulders, he gently slid the cord out of my hand. “So are you
going to explain the circles under your eyes?”

“I’m fine.” His
frown made my heart beat even faster. To cover, I said the first thing that
popped into my head. “Not to worry. Aunt Claire explained about my family
lineage. Trust me, your freak out paled beside the one I had. Guess it was my
turn.”