Designed with a Destiny (13 page)

An hour into the flight back home, Sophia is
sound asleep with her head resting on Brandon’s chest, thanks to
Cat’s strong gift for mental persuasion that works like a sleeping
pill on her. I wait until he closes his eyes too before reaching
forward and holding my hand behind each of their heads feeling for
their individual vibrational signature that according to Cat should
be a close match. I bet her that they wouldn’t only because she
promises to put flying lessons on hold if I’m right—she’s already
smiling even before I announce the results. “Three hundred
twenty…and three hundred twenty-five,” I report, sitting back in my
chair. “You’re still not flying unless I go with you,” I assert,
ignoring the fact that she won the bet and they are within ten
points of each other.

“The hell I’m not,” she replies confidently,
not the least bit fazed by the fact I’m against it. She casually
made the comment about arranging a redo solo flight with Marti
Campbell as early as next week, as if she were arranging a luncheon
with an old friend, not even considering that I might be opposed to
it.

“Cat—I can’t let you—not after what’s
happened.” My chest tightens as I recall the day I was told she
crashed her airplane into the side of a mountain in Idaho. I
couldn’t—no, I wouldn’t go through that kind of pain again. “As
your husband, I’m forbidding you from flying alone ever again,” I
blurt out, even while knowing how ridiculously old-fashioned and
rigid I sound. Thank god the others have their headsets on and
can’t hear us. She busts out laughing, and says, “Ha ha, very
funny,” waiting for me to confirm that I’m joking. When I don’t so
much as crack a smile she quickly looks out the window. I don’t
even have to see her face to know she’s pissed—I can feel the
change in energy in just the palm of her hand as it rests in
mine—before she jerks it away, and folds it across her chest.

“You seriously did not just say that did
you?” she hisses, indignantly. “You know damn well you can’t stop
me.”

“Well I’m damn well going to do my best to
try,” I retort fueling the tension between us.

Silence ensues as neither of us back down.
We both stare out our side window where at ten thousand feet,
there’s nothing but a sea of blue. I hate to fight with her, but I
can’t understand how she can consider putting not only me, but
Claire, through the risk of losing her again—doesn’t she realize
the hell we went through? Several minutes pass and it isn’t until I
remember Lawrence’s pep talk on the destructive nature of fear that
I waver in my point of view.
It cripples and consumes us
emotionally drawing the exact circumstances we fight to avoid
,
he had warned. I look over at her and twitch with guilt. I can’t
say that I’ve ever really experienced fear for myself or been
restricted from getting what I want out of life, yet my
obsessiveness over her safety restricts her from doing what she
loves—totally sick. I have no choice but to relinquish my attempt
to control, and quietly think of how I might back out from my last
statement while still retaining some dignity. Before I have a
chance to deliver my briefly rehearsed apology, she slips her
headset on and taps her finger on the mic-piece to get Zane’s
attention.

“Air traffic at three o’clock, heading
towards us,” she announces. General aviation pilots rely mostly on
sight, rather than radar to avoid mid-air collisions. It’s
everyone’s responsibility to take her announcement seriously and we
all scan the skies to our right looking for the approaching
aircraft.

“Where?” I ask, leaning over her lap to get
a better look out her window. My face is close enough to hers that
I can smell the mint on her breath, and when she turns to look at
me, her mouthpiece gets caught on my chin. We both smile, locking
eyes, on the verge of possibly making amends—when a look of dread
washes over her face.

“Oh God—it’s a missile!” she shouts,
awakening Brandon and Sophia from a dead sleep. “They’ve launched a
missile—change course! Change course!” I still don’t see the
aircraft she’s detected but the terror in her eyes is genuine and
we impulsively conjugate together mentally, taking over the
controls of Brandon’s plane to make a sharp maneuver that resembles
a diving seabird. Sophia screams and Zane cusses, pulling hard on
the yoke.

“Let it go, we’ve got it!” Brandon hollers,
grabbing him by the shoulder, as we continue our steep spiral
plunge to the earth, trying to out maneuver the heat seeking
missile that through Cat we can all see coming.

“
It’s still tracking us, pull up and bank
right. We have about thirty seconds before we are going to be blown
to smithereens,”
Brandon says, his voice tense with emotion.
The plane under our guidance does almost a one eighty, something
it’s not designed to do under normal flying conditions.

“
Twenty seconds guys—think of something
else,”
Cat cries, grabbing my hand and gripping it hard.

“Heat!” Austin shouts out loud, thankfully
forgoing the mental dialogue. “It tracks a heat source, we need to
create something hotter than the plane’s engine. Heat is energy—we
can create it by speeding up the molecules.”

“What molecules!” Zane screeches, already
being tuned out as I remote travel to an area fifteen yards from
the airplane.

“Use me as your focal point,” I propose
hoping I don’t have to explain what I mean. Cat gets it right away,
holding her hand out in the direction where part of my mind now
hovers; she streams her energy making the molecules around my
subconscious entity vibrate faster. When Brandon and Austin join
forces, I instantly detect a warmth that quickly becomes hot.

“What the hell?” Sophia breathes looking out
the window at the fireball now floating in the air just past the
right wing of the airplane. I wasn’t exactly sure if the part of my
mind separated from my body could be destroyed and if so whether it
would have any lasting effects on the rest of me, but the searing
heat feels like an incinerator and everything from that point on,
gets real fuzzy, real fast.

“
Ten, nine, eight, seven…”
Cat gives
the countdown and at five I pull back from the now self-sustaining
ball of fire which at the moment has the lock of the missile.

“Get us out of here!” Brandon shouts at Zane
two seconds before the missile detonates into the already burning
mass. The explosion blows the airplane up on its side where it
careens through the sky being carried by the wave of energy from
the blast alone, until Cat and Austin intervene tipping it back on
its belly allowing Zane to regain normal aerodynamics.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Sophia
warns, tucking her head between her knees, taking deep breaths in
an attempt to avoid it. Brandon hands her a barf bag, then holds
her hair out of her face as she gives up her last meal, filling the
bag to the top. My head feels like it’s ready to explode and I
fight hard not to be a throw-up copycat as I list sideways, unable
to talk or sit upright. Cat catches me in her arms, lowering my
head into her lap and that’s the last thing I remember about the
remainder of the flight back home.

***

“Ronan—we’re home,” I hear Cat softly say,
as her lips brush the side of my face. I roll over and look up at
the most beautiful face on the planet. “Do you feel better?” she
asks, smiling as she runs her hand through my hair.

“Much—you have the power to heal too?”

She nods modestly. I slowly sit up and focus
on the Freeman Estate as Zane taxi’s the plane towards the
hangar.

“What time is it?” Judging from the way all
the lights are off in the house, it must have taken much longer to
get home than expected.

“Nine-eleven,” Zane says, looking at his
cell phone.

“Naturally,” Cat mumbles reminding the rest
of the Designers on board of the peculiar eleven phenomenon that
just this morning she and I had a discussion about.

“Any ideas on who tried to shoot us down?” I
ask, expecting Zane to implicate his father in the attack.

“It was military,” Cat says quietly.

“Military as in Bernie?”

“No—I didn’t say as in Bernie, just that it
was a military fighter jet,” she replies a little defensively.

“How did you see it when the rest of us
couldn’t?” I ask, suddenly recalling that particular detail. She
hesitates and wrinkles her brow.

“I don’t know that I did see it now that I
think about it. It may have been a premonition or vision,” she says
looking at me with serious dark eyes.

“You can predict the future too?” Brandon
asks, starting to look at her as if she’s some sort of prodigy.

“Can we have this discussion some other
time—I want to see Claire and I think we all need a good night’s
rest.” she responds looking a little embarrassed.

“Hey guys—we might have a little problem
with the sleeping situation. There’s not enough beds for everyone,”
Brandon states the obvious, as we head toward the house. I can’t
help but think the statement is meant to boost his chances of
getting Sophia in his bed and it makes me smile knowing what I know
about the two before they’ve even had a chance to discover it
themselves.

“Perhaps Ronan and Cat will let me cuddle
with them in their bed,” Zane says sarcastically, and Cat grips my
arm tightly, as Brandon and Austin block me from reaching him.

“You sick little bastard—you’re testing me,
Harrington,” I warn, not the least bit amused by his comment. He
chuckles softly and walks on ahead, either confident in the others
ability to keep me from him or my ability to exercise self-control
when it comes to hurting him.

“
I don’t want him in this house,”
I
announce silently to Cat, knowing full well without the protection
of the Designers he would be murdered within a matter of days, and
not caring in the least.

“We’re not going to be here long enough to
worry about it. As soon as we get a plan, we’re going to find my
brother and the rest of our family,” Cat reminds everyone, shooting
Zane a warning look as she quietly adds, “Knock it off Zane.”

We are almost to the deck when the door
flies open and Claire comes flying down the stairs in a nightgown
and bare feet, her blonde hair still damp from a recent shower.

“Cat!” she cries, flinging herself into my
wife’s arms with such force, it would have knocked her over had I
not been standing behind her to catch them both.

“I knew you were alive. I knew you’d come
home,” she declares triumphantly, wrapping her arms tightly around
Cat’s neck, as the two lock in an emotional embrace. Everyone but
Zane smiles at the two. He fidgets nervously and a moment later I
understand why when Claire spots him over Cat’s shoulder and says,
“Who’s he?”

“Why don’t you introduce yourself Zane,” I
say, putting him on the spot, and wondering how he’ll manage
admitting to an innocent little girl that he’s partially
responsible for stealing her whole family from her. Of course he’ll
try to lie, I predict. She squirms out of Cat’s arms and studies
him with interest, her feline DNA allowing her to color screen him
in spite of the moon lit night.

“
Not now Ronan—I want some time alone
with Claire first,”
Cat says privately, in a pleading
voice.

“Of course,” I murmur, causing an immediate
distraction when I reach for Claire. “Don’t I get a hug squirt,” I
say as I toss her high in the air and she squeals with delight arms
and legs flying everywhere. “Our family is back together,” she
says, grinning ear to ear as she lands in my arms and hugs me with
genuine happiness.

“Cat, I think I owe it to Claire to tell her
the truth,” Zane interrupts, ignoring her when she shakes her head
no. His statement is enough to pique Claire’s interest again, and
she lets go of me, walking gingerly up to Zane who kneels so that
he’s at eye level with her.

“Claire, my name is Zane Harrington, and I
once was a really bad person, doing really terrible things.” He
swallows hard, and glances nervously up at Cat. “Your sister
changed me, and now I want to help make things right again. I hope
that someday you can forgive me, just like Cat has,” he says.
Claire stares at him quizzically then slowly nods in
acknowledgment, softly asking, “Did you kidnap all of them?”
stunning him with her frankness.

“Yes—I participated.”

“Will you help us get them back?”

“Yes—that’s why I’m here.”

“Are you sorry for what you’ve done?”

“Very,” he says with remorse on his face as
he tears up. She smiles, and to the relief of everyone except me,
holds her hand out to greet him with a handshake, which he takes
and kisses the top of making her giggle and me gag.

***

Zane Harrington may have passed the litmus
test with Claire but Alisha is an entirely different story. She,
Jason, Bernie, and Lawrence are all in the great room waiting for
us when we enter the house.

“It’s good to have you home, Cat,” Alisha
says becoming emotional. Of course Cat isn’t used to seeing this
side of her and looks at me questioningly when Alisha begins to
sniffle.

“I’m sorry—it’s just that seeing you alive
gives me hope that I’ll see the rest of my family, too,” she says,
dabbing her eyes with the corner of the oversized fleece shirt
she’s wearing of Jason’s. Lawrence steps forward next, hands
outstretched, and his eyes misty with tears.

“Lawrence?” Cat whispers going right to him
and bypassing the handshake for a good old-fashioned hug.

“I’m so proud of you Cataryn,” he says,
pulling away and cupping her face in his hands. “You progressed so
much faster than I anticipated—well done kid.” His eyes settle on
Zane and he looks questioningly at us, but doesn’t make a deal of
him being there, almost like he was expecting it.