Touched (24 page)

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Authors: Corrine Jackson

Tags: #Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Touched
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I nodded and felt Asher’s energy spreading through me. As I had in the car, I used his energy to aid me in healing myself when I found my own energy depleted. Long minutes later, I sighed as the pain disappeared. Feeling a thousand times better, I sprawled on his chest while he ran a hand from my shoulder to my hip, leaving little sparks of heat behind with each pass.
“He’s not wrong, you know. I’m afraid of my new power. I wasn’t willing to use it on him until he pissed me off.”
Asher kissed my forehead. “I figured that out, or I wouldn’t have been able to watch without beating him to a pulp. He was right to step in. I couldn’t have pushed you that far.”
“I know. Gabe’s smarter than I gave him credit for.”
Asher’s laugh nearly toppled me off him. “Please don’t tell him that. His ego is swelled enough already from the world telling him he’s beautiful.”
I snorted. “Ha. He’s got nothing on you.”
“You just like me for my scar,” he teased.
“Hmm. You never told me how you got that scar.”
He slid me off him, and we faced each other on our sides with his arm cradling my head. After a long hesitation, he said, “It was a long time ago. After the War, we returned to our home. It took a while for us to realize we would have to leave everything we knew behind or risk discovery.”
“Every few years—when people might notice we never aged—we moved, changed our names, and set up a new home. Made new friends. But when you watch everyone around you die year after year, something inside you dies, too.”
He paused and his memories filled the silence. “It killed me a little at a time, the numbness and the death and watching every dream I’d had die. This”—his finger traced the scar on his temple—“was a mistake. I jumped off a cliff, almost decapitating myself on the way down. I wanted to feel anything, even pain, but in the end . . . nothing. Six months to heal all the injuries and broken bones, but I didn’t feel a thing.”
“Is it so bad?” I whispered.
A corner of his mouth lifted. “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”
His words acted as a vise constricting my heart. We’d never be normal, never be free to dream like everyone else. “What if I can heal you? You don’t have to fight so hard to be around me anymore. What if you could be mortal again?”
Asher’s arm curled under me, hooking around my neck to pull me closer. “Not while there’s a chance you could be hurt.”
I couldn’t let go of the idea. My body had already tried to heal him. Neither of us knew what would have happened if I hadn’t stopped it. My mother said the possibility existed. Maybe . . .
“No.”
“But—”
He touched the corner of my mouth with a gentle finger. “I’ll give you anything you want. My heart is yours as long as you want me, but don’t ask me to risk losing you.”
Words disappeared again. I placed his hand over my heart, and we stared at each other, falling more into each other. I would stop fighting him for now, but I wasn’t giving up. There had to be a way to make him mortal again because if there wasn’t, he’d lose me anyway. There was one thing we could all agree on.
Healers had a short lifespan once Protectors discovered their existence.
C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-FOUR
E
verything I’d learned about Protectors had made one fact undeniable: My abilities put everyone I cared about at risk. Being a Healer wasn’t something I could shut off, so training with Gabe and Asher became my top priority. Over the next couple of weeks, my life settled into a new routine. School, homework, dinner with the family, and when I could get away, evenings spent in the Blackwells’ gym getting thrown to the mat by Gabe. The abuse continued until he wore me down, and I retaliated by wounding him.
Patience developed into one of my greatest assets—I only needed to touch him once to end the fight, but it grew difficult to take blow after blow while I waited for my chance. The pain made me ill-tempered, but we all knew it would be my prime weapon.
Asher gritted his teeth through the whole process and helped me understand more about how the Protectors moved (fast) and what to expect when they came for me (death, unless I managed to get away). He and his brother drew up multiple escape plans with various rendezvous points to meet up in case an attack came while I was at school, at home, en route from school to home, at the pool.... The list went on and every strategy had a contingency plan. I had no illusions that Gabe helped me out of the goodness of his heart or a newfound liking for Healers. I’d accepted that, if the Protectors showed up, I’d need any help the Blackwells were willing to give. My life wasn’t the only one at stake anymore.
Despite our preparations for danger, I think we all sensed a storm brewing. It festered in the rare glimpses of worry on Asher’s face, and the militant way Lottie avoided any contact with me, keeping to her room when I visited. It lingered in Gabe’s tense voice when he snarled at me during training, cursing me for my weakness that could destroy his family.
Then Gabe heard a rumor that some Protectors were planning on visiting.
“Visiting? Are you kidding me? I’m going through all of this, and you’re inviting them to town for a slumber party?”
Gabe had made his announcement after knocking me flat on my back and promptly left the training room, not caring in the least how his announcement affected me. Asher touched my arm, drawing my attention away from staring daggers into Gabe’s retreating figure.
“Remy, look at me. It’s the way things work in our world. If we turned them away, there would be questions.”
Crouching on his heels at my side, Asher’s solemn gaze begged me to believe him. I ignored his outstretched hand and rose to my feet without his help. “You could have told me you were BFFs with the enemy,” I accused.
Asher stood and tossed me a towel. “Remy, I
am
the enemy.”
I grabbed the towel, hanging it around my neck, and considered shoving him. He sounded as irritable as I did.
“I hate this,” he continued, crowding me. He wrapped a fistful of my towel around each of his hands to pull me closer, his knuckles brushing my collarbones in a whispery caress. “I hate it that I can’t ask them not to come. And I hate it that I know you won’t go while they’re here.”
He was right. I wouldn’t leave my family. Sighing, I turned away from the heat in his narrowed eyes. “Why are they coming here? Why now?”
Asher slipped his hands in his pockets. “It’s our fault. Mine and Gabe’s. Protectors are a tight community. When you don’t check in, they notice. We’ve been distracted.”
By me, he meant. “But why come here? Why not pick up the phone and say ‘hey’?”
Asher smiled. “Spencer and Miranda are friends, Remy. They helped us get out of Italy when our parents died. Like I said, we’re a tight community.”
It didn’t escape my notice that Spencer and Miranda were also immortal, which meant at least two more Healers had died. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that every Protector achieved immortality by an accident of fate.
“No, you’re right.” Asher’s eyes didn’t leave mine.
“They were bitter and angry at the way the Healers had treated them. It was no accident, but it was war, Remy. I won’t make excuses, but mistakes were made on both sides.”
I didn’t know how I felt about that. I had never met another Healer. Was I supposed to feel an instant loyalty to their kind because their power ran through my veins? Could I ignore the things they’d done to the Protectors that had driven Asher’s people to fight back? I only knew what Asher and my mother had told me.
“That’s not true. You know who I am.”
I nodded, and it was a long moment before I broke the silence. “If Spencer and Miranda are your friends, can’t you trust them?”
Asher shook his head. “I trust them with our lives, but not yours. They don’t hunt Healers, but that doesn’t mean they’d resist the temptation of you in the same room.”
“I get it. I’m catnip for Protectors.” With a wry smile, I picked up my bag. “So, what’s the plan?”
The plan was for me to stay out of sight while the Protectors were in town. Asher and Lottie skipped school most of the week, presumably to visit with their friends. I’d promised Asher to steer clear of anyplace in town outside home and school to avoid any possibility of chance meetings. I didn’t realize how accustomed I’d become to seeing Asher until I went a few days without.
To keep my promise, I stayed at the school library to catch up on my studies instead of joining my friends at the Clover Café. I’d kept my end of the bargain with Ben and Laura, keeping my grades up. When my brain threatened to implode, I set aside the equations I’d been working on for math and decided to head home on foot. Unlike New York, Blackwell Falls was a safe place to walk the streets, unless you counted all the Protectors running about.
A full moon lit the evening sky and cast shadows on the thick clouds when I left campus. An unexpected alarm raised goose bumps on my skin. The air felt pregnant with danger, like those seconds before Gabe would attack. Footsteps sounded behind me, and I twisted around, crouched and ready to defend myself as Asher and Gabe had taught me. The parking lot was empty. Convinced someone watched me, I scrutinized the school’s main building and saw the outline of someone passing by an upstairs window. My laugh sounded loud in the quiet night, and I felt foolish for getting spooked. Asher would have called if I had something to worry about. Still, I raced home and didn’t breathe easily until I’d locked myself in the house.
I would have dismissed the incident, except the same thing happened later that evening when I helped Ben take the trash out after dinner. He’d gone back in the house ahead of me, and I had the strange sensation that someone watched me from the shadows in Townsend Park. I peered into the trees, half hoping to see someone. At least then I’d know I wasn’t going crazy. The other half of me dreaded the discovery of what I’d find. I didn’t see anyone, but I couldn’t shake the notion that someone stalked me. I longed to call Asher, but he was off limits so long as his friends were in town. Determined not to worry my family until I had proof, I said nothing and kept my eyes open.
The calls started two nights later.
Ben and Laura had gone to meet friends for dinner, leaving Lucy and me to fend for ourselves. After a quick meal of leftover spaghetti, Lucy beat me upstairs to steal the shower, leaving me to clean our few dishes. I was about to yell after her when the kitchen phone rang, and I answered it. Whoever it was didn’t speak. Assuming the person had dialed the wrong number, I hung up.
Less than thirty seconds later, the phone rang again. Heavy breathing sounded on the other end of the line, and it felt like the person lingered behind me the way the hair on the back of my neck rose.
“Listen, if you’re a prank caller, we get the message. Time to move on and irritate someone else.” When the person didn’t respond, I hung up again. Immediately, the handset sounded under my hand, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Tired of the game, I yanked the receiver to my ear with an impatient movement. “Who is this?”
The distinct
snick
of a lighter flaring to life echoed on the other end of the line.
Dean.
The phone dropped from my limp fingers and hit the floor with a
crack,
spinning across the tiled floor to come to rest under the small kitchen table. Dropping to my knees, I scrambled to grab the phone and checked the caller ID for the last call received.
A local number was listed, and praying an innocent prankster would answer, I dialed. It rang six times before a woman answered in a breathless voice, a tourist strolling down on Beech Street who had heard the pay phone ringing. Her friends had dared her to answer it when they’d seen no one about.
I dropped the phone back in its cradle and sank into a chair at the table. Asher had reassured me that Dean remained in New York, but what if he’d made it to Blackwell Falls? Few people knew how the sound of a lighter could terrify me, and I didn’t know anyone who would play such a prank on me. It had to be Dean.
“Remy, you okay? Who was that on the phone?”
Lucy stood in the doorway in a robe. Her eyes narrowed in concern, and I pulled myself together, keeping my tone light for her benefit. “Prank callers. They freaked me out a little.”
She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “It was probably Brandon or Greg trying to get a rise out of you.”
My sister looked so innocent standing there barefoot with her hair wet—so unprepared to protect herself—that I decided to tell Lucy at least a little of the truth so she’d be on her guard. “I don’t think so. The caller pretended to be Dean. The boys would never be that cruel. You mind if I call Asher and ask him to stay with us until Ben and Laura get home?”
My fear registered, and she sat across from me, touching my hand. “They really rattled you, didn’t they? Go ahead and call him. To be honest, I’d feel better having him here, too.”
Asher answered his cell on the first ring.
My voice sounded hesitant. “I’m sorry to call you. I know you said not to, but—”
“They’re gone, Remy. I was just about to call you. What’s wrong?”
I told him what had happened.
He said, “I’m on my way,” before I could even get my request out. Lucy tossed me a confused look when I hung up until I relayed his brief end of the conversation. She laughed and squeezed my hand again. Less than ten minutes later, Asher called to let me know he’d arrived at the front door.
Relief flooded through me, and I nearly jumped into his arms. Instead, I stepped back to allow him to enter. My brows rose when I glimpsed Gabe at the edge of the front yard, circling the house. “What’s he doing?”
Asher closed the door and braced his hands on his hips. “Checking to see if anyone is out there. Tell me what happened.”
I relayed the calls in the kitchen, and his expression tightened. “Stay here,” he said. “I want to check the locks and windows.”
Lucy and I waited in the living room, and he returned a few minutes later. Lucy seemed surprised at his quick reappearance, but didn’t mention it. When a knock sounded on the front door, he answered it and spoke in quiet tones to Gabe. I heard him tell his brother good-bye, and then he returned to the living room.
“Nothing. No tracks and no evidence that anyone has been hanging around.”
Asher and I eyed each other. He really meant that the caller wasn’t a Protector.
“Remy thinks it was Dean,” Lucy said, tucking her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture.
Asher suggested, “Maybe Ben can have someone check on his whereabouts. For tonight, I’ll stay until your parents get home.” Translated, that meant he already had his brother checking on Dean.
Lucy nodded and yawned, her jaw cracking. “Thanks, Asher. Tell your brother I said thanks, too. I wouldn’t have thought he would do something nice like that. No offense.”
His smile had a wry edge. “None taken.”
Before I could disillusion her on Gabe’s motives—which had more to do with his brother and nothing at all to do with us—Lucy said good night and headed up the stairs. Asher and I stood rooted where she’d left us in the living room and stared at each other.
Asher moved suddenly, his arms winding around me, yanking me into his body, so I had to lean against him on my tiptoes. Both his palms flattened against the middle of my back, and I felt safe for the first time in days. Relieved to be touching him, I hugged him close and breathed his scent in. I don’t know how long we stood like that, but it was like coming home.
Eventually, he pulled away and studied my face. “Gabe is checking on Dean. We’ll know more soon.” He swallowed. “Spencer and Miranda had just left when you called, and I was sure we’d given something away somehow. I’ve never been so scared.”
I brushed his hair off his forehead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to take any chances with Lucy.”
When I hesitated, he shot me a suspicious look. “What are you not telling me?”
I sighed. “I think someone’s been following me the last couple of days. Nothing I can pinpoint, and there’s never anyone there when I turn around. Still, I’d swear I was being watched.”
He listened silently as I explained the creeped-out feeling I’d had at school and when I’d been taking the trash out. When I finished, he stepped back, sank down on the couch with his elbows on his knees, and passed a weary hand over his face.

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