A Taste of Ice (22 page)

Gwen sighed. “I know you want to forget it, but you’re Secondary. I’ve been worried about you.”

“Me? Why? Isn’t this an Ofarian problem?”

He heard the rustling of bedcovers.

“Others are gone, too,” she said.

“Others?” He steadied himself on the counter edge.

“Other Secondaries. Besides Ofarians. Besides…you.”

The motor in the refrigerator kicked on, filling the small
kitchen with an easy hum. “What are you saying? That there are other races here on Earth?”

“Yes.”

That changed so much. Too much. His head started to spin and ache. “I had no idea.”

Gwen made a faint, exasperated sound. “Of course you didn’t. You made it perfectly clear you didn’t want to be a part of our world any longer. And I’ve respected that. But I hope you can forgive I had to break that wish to warn you that something bad is going on.”

He wandered back into the dark living room, the phone cord stretching to the max, and stood before the picture window, one hand on his hip. “How do you know it’s something bad?”

“Because the disappearances seem to be systematic. We haven’t been given access to all the information, but Reed’s analyzed the patterns. There are no…bodies. It’s like they’ve just disappeared. Or been taken.”

“Yeah, well, he should know.”

“He does know. It’s definitely foul play. And with Vail so close, I wanted to warn you, to tell you to keep an eye out for anything unusual.”

“Turnkorner’s going on right now. There’s all sorts of unusual happenings.”

“Xavier.” Her patience snapped. “I’ve been freaking out over here. Why didn’t you answer your phone the other day? Why don’t you have voice mail or a cell phone like everyone else? Why’d you hang up on me this morning?”

He inhaled, and Cat’s phantom scent came to him. It buckled his knees and he fell back into the recliner. “I’ve been busy.”

“I’ve been this close to getting on a plane to Colorado.”

“Don’t do that.”

She sighed again.

“Tell me about these other Secondaries,” he said. “What are they?”

“Hold on a sec.”

“Where are you going?” Reed mumbled in the background.

“Go back to sleep,” Gwen told him, and Xavier heard her give him a kiss. “Going to talk to Xavier in the living room.” There was the sound of bare feet on tile, then nothing, then Gwen’s voice again. “Okay, I’m here.”

“The other Secondaries,” he prompted.

“The Board, before we took them down, had apparently known about them. Not much information, just vague sightings and hearsay and chance encounters, that sort of thing. The Board was starting to research them, go after them, right around the time I was…well, you know. That project fell away once Griffin took over and we had to restructure, but soon it became his number-one priority: find others like us.”

“And he did, I take it.”

“Xavier, it’s incredible. It’s not like there are five or six random people scratching out a life in the backwoods. There are whole societies of other races who originated in the stars, who immigrated here over time. Huge enclaves all over the world. Thousands of each kind. And they all knew about each other—that’s what’s so crazy to us. They’d already banded together and they knew about
us
but they never came forward.”

Xavier didn’t find that all too crazy. The Ofarians had once been pretty unapproachable. Probably still were.

“There’s even a whole system of government between them,” Gwen went on. “It’s called the Senatus and it meets yearly. About three years ago Griffin appealed to the Senatus for the Ofarians’ inclusion, but there was this big, awful misunderstanding.”

“Let me guess. They didn’t let you guys in.”

Awkward silence. “It’s worse than that. Things are pretty strained right now between us and them. Hair-trigger, I might even say. But we were still able to get some basic information about their missing people—Adine’s amazing. That’s how we know something bad is happening on a big scale. What Griffin and I want is to find their missing people and bring them home. Maybe that will get the Senatus to see we’re not as selfish as they think.”

Wow, so much had happened in the years since he’d hid in the kitchen. The Secondary world had expanded while his had contracted.

“Who are they?” he asked. “What kind of Secondaries?”

“Elementals, mostly. They can control air and earth and fire…it’s pretty amazing. We want to know them better. We want them to know us.” She sounded wistful and frustrated.

He nudged his toe into the beam of fuzzy light striping his carpet. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, Xavier. You know that.” Her goodness—her honesty and selflessness—had almost destroyed him once. Then it had saved him, and for that he owed Gwen more than he could ever repay.

“You guys still keep pretty close tabs on all your people? You know where they are, who they mate with, that sort of thing?”

“Yes. Even though we can live and work anywhere now, Griffin has insisted we stay closely knit, for safety’s sake. But he’s made everything transparent. Things are so different now.”

He couldn’t believe he was about to ask this, but he had to know for sure. “What about records from twenty-five or so years ago?”

She made a doubtful noise. “We’ve been trying to piece together everything that happened while the Board was in control, but data is splotchy. They hid a lot, destroyed more, encrypted others.” Her voice dipped low. “Why? What’s happened?”

“Would it have been possible for an Ofarian to have been born outside of California? Is it still possible for one to not know who or what she is?”

The silence on the other end dug deep into his brain.

“There’s this girl,” he rushed on, “and I think she might be Ofarian. She was abandoned as a baby, doesn’t know anything about Secondaries, but she’s obsessed with water. And today I thought I saw—”

“What?” Gwen went breathless. “What did you see?”

He looked over his shoulder at the kitchen table. “She was, ah, spinning the water in her glass with a finger. And when she pulled it out, the water stayed connected to her hand. The water came out of the glass, Gwen. Rose straight up and stayed there, defying gravity. I’d swear it on anything.”

“Did she say anything? Words that sounded Ofarian?”

“No. Nothing. It just happened.”

“If she was raised by Primaries,” Gwen said slowly, “the water’s been trying to communicate with her. She’s probably like a magnet to it. It wants to be part of her, so when she pulls away without
touching
it, it follows.”

Xavier swore under his breath.

“How well do you know her?” Gwen padded the question in a casual tone, but there was a layer of sympathy underneath, as if she knew exactly what was going on between Xavier and Cat.

“Well enough,” Xavier said, closing his eyes.

“Is she there with you?”

The emptiness sat hard on his chest. “No. Not anymore. I don’t know…Gwen, I don’t know if I can face her again.”

“Have you heard nothing of what I just told you? If she’s Ofarian and two others have gone missing nearby, she could be in danger. You know that, right?”

He waved a hand at no one. “You’re making assumptions.”

“About the disappearances, yes. But it’s better to be cautious, don’t you think?”

He pressed his lips together, bowed his head.

“There’s another danger, Xavier. If she doesn’t learn to communicate with water in the way her body is meant to, her mind could revolt. In fact I’m a little surprised it hasn’t already. It wants her to do one thing and her body simply can’t. There’s a risk of mental instability.”

He recalled how Cat had spoken of her confusing inspiration, how painting was the only way to express how water made her feel. He could still see each of her paintings—the agitation and mystery and devotion behind each one. Perhaps that instability had already manifested.

“I don’t want to be the one to tell her,” he said.

Gwen made a frustrated sound. “You were always good at convincing yourself of things that would make your own existence easier. But this is someone else’s life. Someone you clearly care about. Ofarians have
disappeared
near you. There’s no more time. Are you willing to gamble her safety?”

His gums hurt as he ground his teeth together.

“I’m not,” she said. “If she’s one of ours, she needs to be protected. She needs to be told.”

He pushed up from the recliner, started to pace across the matted carpet. “You want me to do it.”

“I’m in Chicago. You’re there. Tell her. Keep an eye on her.”

“Fuck.” He stopped and braced one arm on the wall.
“Fuck.
”

“Tell me you get it.” He recognized her tone of voice. The one that said she’d set her mind to something and if she didn’t get the help she was looking for, she’d come in and do it herself, and to hell with anyone who got in her way. “Tell me you understand why she has to be told and what I’m asking you to do.”

“You’re not ordering me?”

“I would never do that.”

He exhaled. “I know you wouldn’t.”

That made it all the more difficult, because Gwen was so reasonable and so
right
. She would never, ever bring up all she’d done for Xavier and his people, but she didn’t have to. He’d never forget all that he owed her.

But he wouldn’t do this solely for Gwen. He realized that he wanted to protect Cat. “I freaked out, Gwen. I shut down. I shut her out. When she left, things were bad.”

“What was the last thing she said to you?”

He drew a breath and it rattled in his chest. When he spoke the sound was thin. “That she’d be there to talk, if I wanted.”

“See, that’s woman code for: I’m not giving up on you.”

“She’s
Ofarian
.”

Gwen paused. “It’s hard, Xavier, to fall for someone against your better judgment. You don’t think I know that?” Five years ago Gwen and Reed, a Primary, had valiantly fought their attraction, but love had always come back to them, no matter how hard they flung it away. “And this is more than your relationship with her. This could mean her safety. Her life. Please. Go to her. Tell her.”

“What if she doesn’t believe me?”

“Tell her to put her finger back in that water and say this.” She gave him an Ofarian phrase, made him repeat it until he got the inflection just right. It was the first time he’d ever said anything in that language and it made his skin crawl.

“Good,” said Gwen. “Now give me everything you know about her and I’ll get on research.”

He related all Cat had told him about growing up in Indiana, and what he’d guessed to be her birth year based on that story. He could hear Gwen’s fingers typing as he talked.

“Will you give her my phone number? Tell her to call me?”

The prospect of telling Cat actually started to appeal to his
baser male instincts. Stand guard over a woman. He’d never been able to do that before; they’d always been snatched from him in the Plant. And Cat was so very worth saving.

But to put Cat in touch with Gwen? To give Cat full access to the world that still haunted him? He’d found Cat when he needed someone most, but she wasn’t just any old female who’d wandered in and filled an open slot—she meant something to him. What that was exactly, he couldn’t articulate. But he wasn’t ready to hand her over to the people who’d created his hell of a life.

“Please.” Gwen was still typing, but the plea wasn’t any less sincere.

He was scum for even considering not to. “All right. I’ll tell her. She’ll call you.”

And I’ll give her to you, because if she belongs with anyone, it’s you, not me.

Xavier found Cat’s cell phone number where she’d scribbled it
on a corner of the Cantonese House takeout menu. His foot wouldn’t stop tapping, making his shin ache.

She answered on the fourth ring. A loud party went on in the background. Lots of laughter and what sounded like a live jazz band.

“It’s me,” he said.

“Xavier. Here, let me go…what time is it? Can you hold on?” She sounded a little drunk. He didn’t blame her. A door clicked shut and the sounds of the party were muffled. “There. I should be mad at you, but I’ve been wanting to hear your voice.”

“I need to see you.”

“What, now?”

“Yes. Now. Where are you?”

“At a party. At Helen’s.”

He rubbed his sweating hand on his jeans, then switched the phone to the dry hand and rubbed the other. “Can I come get you?”

“Um.” There was a burst of party noise, like she’d opened the door to look outside and then shut it again quickly. “Why don’t I just meet you somewhere? I’ve been wanting to leave anyway.”

Michael must have been there.

“Just stay there,” he said. “Go back to the party. Stay next to Helen if you can, where there’s lots of people.”

Pause. “You’re kind of scaring me.”

“Which house is Helen’s?”

“The big white one on Windflower Lane. There’s a gazebo in the side lot and some sort of freaky sculpture next to the garage.”

“I know it. Just stay there. Be there as soon as I can.”

“I’m so glad you called. I don’t care what time it is.” She sounded soft and dreamy, like those moments after she’d come against his mouth and hand and around his cock.

He had to remind himself why he’d called in the first place, why he was about to race across a wintry town in the middle of the night. That stole away the desire good and fast.

He didn’t bother knocking. The jazz band inside Helen’s house
could be heard a block away and no one would ever notice the doorbell. The great oak door, stained a deep brown, swung inward to reveal a formal living room to the right, its windows overlooking town, and a dining room to the left. A wide hallway stretched toward the back of the house. Primaries mingled everywhere. Just yesterday Xavier would’ve thought himself alone among them.

Not anymore.

He scanned the crowd and saw Cat walking up from the back, her coat draped over one arm. She was wearing ridiculous heels again, this time with slim black pants that made her legs look a mile long, and a shiny gold top that gathered at the waist and made her chest look incredible. His mouth started to water and he ran his tongue along the inside of his bottom teeth.