Intangible (4 page)

His eyes rolled back into his head, hands clenched into fists at his sides as his mind formed one thought, and one thought only.

That he wished he were dead.

FOUR

S
era’s head jerked up as a scream echoed up the hill from downtown. Her hands gripped the wooden sash of her bedroom window that she was poised to push open, but she froze, her heart jackhammering. It was the most horrible sound she’d ever heard. Despair. Torture. Misery.

For a brief moment she wondered what could possibly make someone sound like that. But then she changed her mind. She didn’t want to know. She shuddered, shaking off the grisly images that couldn’t happen, she knew, in downtown Burlington, and turned back to her window.

Her home, an old tan two-story with maroon trim, was set back from the road and surrounded by a nearly solid wall of trees. There was shade somewhere in the yard any time of day, and an unusual sense of privacy in the large suburban neighborhood. Which she thoroughly appreciated now as she was sneaking back into it. Luckily her and Luke’s bedrooms were on the first floor, their mom’s was on the second, so sneaking in and out without being detected wasn’t a true test of her covert skills.

Which was probably just as well since she wasn’t sure she actually had any covert skills.

Pausing, she listened for sounds signaling that her mom or Luke had been woken by the scream. No lights had come on and she heard nothing but the leaves whispering in the wind. It was safe to sneak back inside. As quietly as possible, she lifted the window to her room one slow centimeter at a time. A quiet squeak made her cringe, but she kept pushing it up until it was wide enough to fit through.

With a little jump, she hoisted herself up head first, and fell inside, catching herself with outstretched hands. She tucked her head into a forward roll to pull the rest of her body all the way in and ended up in the middle of her room, the soft navy blue shag carpet cushioning her fall. Not exactly an elegant entrance—and she was glad no one was around to see it.

“Hey.”

Sera turned with a start. Luke was sitting in the cushy blue chair by the open window. Waiting for her. She stared at him for a moment, her heart beating crazy fast, then found her voice.

“Hey yourself.”

Luke nodded at where she sat on the floor. “Graceful. I give it a seven-point-five.”

“That’s all? I thought it was at least an eight. Maybe a nine.” She started to stand up.

“You lost points for the huff and the puff.”

“I don’t huff. Or puff, for that matter.”

“Do. Did.”

“Didn’t.”

“Big, Bad Wolf.”

“Little Pig.” She smirked at him as she plopped down on her bed, the blue quilt wrinkling where she sat. “Shouldn’t you be busy building your house with hay?”

“Bricks. I’m the smart one.”

Sera snorted, untied her sneakers and left them on the floor, slipped off her hooded sweater and laid it across the wooden trunk at the end of her bed. Oh, boy, did it feel good to be home. She threw herself backwards onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. The ceiling was the same rich blue color as three of the walls, but she wasn’t seeing it, she was seeing Jonas on the street outside the hospital. Jonas watching them turn the corner out of sight. Jonas appearing out of nowhere and disappearing into the night. What a whole lot of weirdness. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table: 1:34 A.M. It was late.

Her eyes flicked back to Luke’s face and narrowed. “What are you—”

“Doing up? I could ask you the same thing.”

She closed her mouth, a small movement, and just looked at him for a moment. He was waiting up for her when he should be sleeping. As if he knew she would be back at this time. As if he knew what she’d been doing.

He’d always been like this. Even when they were little. And it used to drive her crazy because he always knew ahead of time, and not only from the visions. He just had this sense of what was to come. He’d warn her, sometimes, but she wouldn’t always believe him. Why? She didn’t know. It certainly would have saved her from hurt or disappointment many times. And it would have stopped her from showing their grandmother what she could do.

They’d been six years old and visiting their father’s mother. Sera had found an injured butterfly under the sky-high pine trees one morning outside her grandmother’s small, yellow house. She’d very gently touched one delicate white wing, and was watching it glow to health when her grandmother wandered over.

“What have you found, Seraphina?” She bent over to see what Sera was doing.

“A butterfly. It’s hurt, and I’m making it better.”

“What?” Her grandmother chuckled, straightening back up. “Oh, I see. You’re just pretending. Are you going to be an animal doctor when you grow up?”

But Sera looked up, very serious. “No, Grandma, I’m not pretending. I’m really making it better.”

“You can’t make things better, honey. The butterfly is hurt, and it will probably die. No one can fix it. That’s the way things happen.”

“But
I
can. When I touch it, it glows. See? It’s glowing right now.” Sera looked back down at the butterfly. Her grandmother did too, a quizzical look on her face. “It’s getting better. Look, its wings are moving again.” The butterfly crawled away from Sera’s outstretched fingers, folded and unfolded its wings, then took off into the air. “It’s beautiful.”

“Oh! You were pretending,” her grandmother said again as the butterfly fluttered away. “It wasn’t really hurt.”

“Yes, it was. But I made it better, like I told you.”

Disapproval dragged down her grandmother’s face. “Do not lie to your grandmother, Seraphina.”

Sera didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what she’d done wrong. Her mouth quivered, tears spilled over. “But I didn’t lie. I helped it.” She went running across the yard and threw herself into her mother’s arms. Her mom looked over at her mother-in-law with a questioning look, but the old woman strode back into the house without a word.

During lunch, Luke had looked up from his sandwich suddenly and said, “Grandma? When you get your headache later, can we watch a movie?”

Their grandmother was bemused, put her cup down. “Luke, honey, I don’t get a headache every day.”

“I know.”

She watched Luke eat for several minutes before continuing her own meal. Though she maintained her part of the conversation with their parents, her eyes occasionally flicked over to Luke throughout the rest of the meal.

A couple of hours later, their dad sat down on the couch next to their mom. “Mother has a migraine starting,” he whispered. They both glanced over at Luke, eyebrows raised. “The kids need to keep quiet and away from her room.”

Their parents turned on the television, volume low, and started flipping through channels to find something for them to watch. They paused on a news show and became momentarily engrossed. Sera got up quietly and inched toward the hallway. As soon as she’d made it out of the room, Luke was there, too.

“Sera, don’t go in there,” he said.

“Where?”

“Grandma’s room.”

“But I can help Grandma.”

Luke looked at her for a moment, thinking. “She won’t like it.”

“But I can make her better. Everyone likes to feel better.”

“She’s gonna get mad. Really, really mad.”

“I want to show her.” If their grandmother only understood what Sera meant, what Sera could do, then she’d realize Sera hadn’t been lying earlier. And her grandmother would be happy with her again.

She walked soundlessly to their grandmother’s room, and knocked quietly on the door, Luke behind her. There was no response, so she opened it and peered in. Their grandmother lay on top of her yellow flowered comforter with an arm thrown over her eyes. White curtains were drawn across the windows, still letting in too much light. Her body was rigid, face pinched.

Sera tiptoed over to the bed as Luke silently closed the door behind him. She lay a gentle hand on her grandmother’s arm. Her grandmother moved slightly to see who was there, and sighed.

“Seraphina.” Her voice was whisper thin. “I cannot play right now, honey. Grandma doesn’t feel well.”

“I know, Grandma,” Sera said softly. “I’m here to make you better.” She reached up with her other hand, touched her necklace, then watched as her grandmother started to glow.

Sera could see her grandmother’s body relax as the pain lessened in her head. Her breathing calmed, her muscles unclenched, her face smoothed as the pain left her body. She sighed again, this time in relief. “Oh, my goodness,” she said.

“See? I can make you better, too.” Sera smiled over at Luke. It was okay.

But her grandmother suddenly snatched her arm away from Sera’s touch. “What are you doing?” she said. “
What are you?
” She scrambled backwards to get as far away as she could in the tiny bedroom.

Sera didn’t understand. She’d helped her. Her headache was gone. It didn’t make sense, the way her grandmother was reacting to being healed. Eyes wide, Sera backed up toward Luke at the door.

Their grandmother crossed herself, her hand flying through the motions. “Don’t you
ever
touch me again, devil girl. And
you
,” she turned on Luke, “there is something wrong with you, too. My son never should have—” She broke off. In her eyes was a horror that Sera and Luke couldn’t understand. “Get out of here!”

They ran out of the room. For the second time that day, Sera didn’t know what she’d done wrong, but this time she knew it was terrible. It had made their grandmother
scared
of her. Of them. She wondered if there really was something wrong with them.

Their grandmother had said they were evil.

And maybe they were.
She’d never thought about it. She’d thought that everyone could do what they did. Healing was like breathing to her. Seeing was like that to Luke. It was normal. At least, they’d thought it was.

From that point on, their grandmother wouldn’t speak to either of them. She’d barely even look at them, and when she did it was a glare of such force that Sera’s eyes would fill with tears and Luke would scowl back while putting a protective arm around her.

Their mother took great offense.

Their father made excuses.

They didn’t go back to visit their grandmother again. Sera heard her parents’ whispered arguments about it. She knew it was why her dad eventually left. She knew it was why they got divorced.

It was all her fault.

Their grandmother had been the first person she’d told. And the last.

At least she had Luke. They had each other. Always had. Always would.

And here he was, looking at her. The one person who could really see her. Tonight there was an intensity in his eyes. He looked genuinely relieved to see her. He had been worried, she realized, really worried. She could see it in his face, feel it in the room.

“You’re upset,” she said.

He looked away for a moment, sighed. Something was up. Her eyes got caught on his necklace, visible in the unbuttoned gap at the top of his shirt. Like hers, the silver pendant was shaped like a hand, but his had an eye etched into the palm. Similar, but different. Just like the two of them. And just like her, he always wore it.

“Sera? Where were you?”

“What’s wrong?”

“
Where were you?
”

“Out saving the world,” she said. “My cape is drying on the porch right now.”

L
uke pressed his lips together in mild frustration. She wasn’t answering his question. He looked away from her, rested his head in his hands, and wondered how he was going to keep her alive if she wouldn’t tell him what was going on. If she snuck off by herself.

She’d probably been healing someone. Somewhere she shouldn’t have been. At least that was the feeling he was getting. And she did that sort of thing. Often. Part of him felt like he needed to get her to stop doing that and stay home where it was safe. Where no maniacal monster-lady roamed, waiting to kill her.

It just didn’t seem possible, his vision. And yet he knew it was. In fact, it wasn’t just possible, it was inevitable.