Destiny Binds (22 page)

“James is a really good guy. I mean, like a really good person. Trust me, I know people better than the average girl. He just needs some self-esteem.”

“And youʼre the person to give it to him?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I could hear Talleyʼs sigh over the rush of water from the shower and the clanging of bottles as she scavenged through the cabinet. “Because only I can See what he needs, and what he needs is for someone to go to prom with him and treat him like a real person. I can do that. Iʼm going to do that. Iʼm sorry that you have to be inconvenienced, but I promise Iʼll make it up to you.”

Crap. I couldnʼt argue with that.

“So, how does this Seeing thing work?” I asked as she pushed yet another bottle of fruity smelling body wash around the shower curtain. I lined it up with the others. The bathtub was starting to look like Bath and Body Works. “Like, do you have to touch flesh or could you grab onto someoneʼs shirt?”

“Flesh to flesh is the best conduit, but I can sometimes get a read off someone if there is a layer of fabric between us. Depends on how strong the person is projecting.” I washed behind my ears for the sixth time. “Projecting?”

“You know, like giving off a vibe. If someone is really stressed out or upset about something they project it off of them and I canʼt help but See whatever it is. When I first started Seeing it was overwhelming. I couldnʼt walk down the hall at school without finding out someone had wrecked their momʼs car, had an abortion, or made out with another guy while their girlfriend was out of town. It was too much. Thatʼs why I started working on controlling it. Itʼs not right for me to know those things.”

“It was Jordan, wasnʼt it? Heʼs totally hot for guys, right?”

“Scout.” Thatʼs the problem with having a good, kind hearted person as a best friend. She sucks all the joy out of gossiping.

“Fine. Sorry.” I tried to remember how many times I had washed my hair and failed. Oh well, one more time couldnʼt hurt. “How long have you been able to See? Where you born like this?”

“No, Seers are like Shifters. Weʼre supposed to come into our powers as we go through puberty.”

“So youʼve been Seeing since you were, like, eleven?”

“July.”

“July what?” I opened a bottle of body wash and immediately rejected it. I would rather smell like wolf than roses.

“I started Seeing in July.”

I poked my head around the curtain to look at my friend who had built a fort around her out of scented lotions. “July? Of this year? Youʼve been wearing a bra since the fourth grade and had your first period before we started middle school. I think youʼre a bit past puberty at this point.”

Talley stopped arranging the multi-colored bottles and looked up at me, grimacing at the puddles of water my dripping hair left on the floor. “I said that weʼre
supposed
to come into our Sight when we go through puberty. I was a late bloomer. Everyone thought I was a squib until I had a vision over the summer.” She handed me a loofah and motioned for me to continue my de-wolfing.

“I thought you were a Touch-a-Soul or whatever. You have visions too?”

“Well, Mom thought it was a vision, but then I started doing the whole touching thing. Since Seeing is an only-one-item-per-customer kind of thing, it obviously wasnʼt a
real
vision. Not that I can convince the boys of that.”

The water had gone from hot to luke warm to tepid and was now threatening to slide into the land of flat-out cold. I had enough of cold last night to last a while, so I shut off the shower, confident that my potpourri of floral and fruity scents would mask any lingering Alex-related aromas.

“What was your vision of?” I asked, wrapping a large towel around me before I stepped out of the shower.

Talley twisted a piece of hair around her fingers and looked at the wall just to the right of my head. “It was nothing.”

Nope, she hadnʼt developed super-lying skills over night. That was good to know.

“Still keeping secrets from me?”

“Iʼm sorry. I should tell you. It will help you to understand. Itʼs just that...” She took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. “You understand that itʼs not a real vision, right? I canʼt See the future. This isnʼt going to happen.” Her intensity was a bit unsettling.

“Not a real vision. Got it.”

“I was watching one of those reality TV shows with the has-been almost-celebrities. I must have fallen asleep without realizing it because I thought I saw this man walking through the living room. I had never seen him before, but I immediately knew he was a Shifter. Something about him just seemed so animalistic.” She paused and ran her fingers through her now knotted hair.

“He wasnʼt wearing a shirt. His chest was covered in blood, but not his. It had all came from the person that lay limp in his arms. There were claw marks across her stomach, shirt and flesh ripped to shreds.” Talley rubbed her eyes as if the image was affixed to the back of her eyelids. “There was so much blood. It was everywhere. Her clothes were drenched, it was dried on her face and matted in her hair. But still, even caked in blood and completely lifeless, I knew who he was carrying.” My heart hammered in my chest, already anticipating the punch line. “It was you, Scout.” Talleyʼs voice trembled. “He was carrying you.” Well, that sucked. “Good thing it wasnʼt a real vision, huh?”

“Itʼs why they hate them, why they donʼt want you near Alex. Theyʼre afraid that if you get too close to him that heʼll —”

“Gut me like a pig?”

Talley flinched. “Itʼs not funny.”

“Which is why Iʼm not laughing.” I didnʼt find this even remotely funny. I wasnʼt worried about Alex. Alex would never hurt me, but Talley had seen a man. An animalistic man. I only knew one of those, and imagining him having a desire to disembowel me wasnʼt hard. “When did you have this not-really-a-vision vision?”

“July fifth.” She was back to the hair twirling routine. “And before you ask, yes, thatʼs the same day the Coles moved here.”

That certainly was convenient. I sat down on the edge of the bathtub, unsure that my legs could continue to hold me. “But you canʼt See the future, right?”

“Alex would never hurt you.”

“I know that.” She wasnʼt answering my question and I knew why. Uncertainty was written clearly all over her face. “Does he know about this?”

“No.”

“But Jase and Charlie do? And they think itʼs really going to happen?”

“They think itʼs too much of coincidence, them showing up and the vision. And then, with Alexʼs obvious obsession with you...” She shook her head. I wasnʼt sure if her dismay was aimed at Charlie and Jaseʼs belief in the vision or Alexʼs feelings towards me. “Iʼve tried to tell them, explain how much Alex loves you, that heʼs completely incapable of causing you harm, but they wonʼt hear it. Well, Charlie hears it, but that doesnʼt really help.”

“What about Liam?” I asked through numb lips.

Talleyʼs focus shifted to the right of my head again. “What about him?”

“Heʼs capable of ki...hurting me, isnʼt he?”

“I donʼt know.”

I did. He was more than capable, he was willing.

I grabbed a bottle from the lotion fort. “I need to get dressed,” I said. “Iʼll be out in a minute.” Talley nodded and got up to leave. She paused with one hand on the door. “Iʼm not a Future Seer, Scout. No one is going to hurt you.”

I forced up the corners of my mouth. “I know. Itʼs no big,” I said, grateful that I was capable of lying convincingly.

Finding out that Liam Cole might kill me was disturbing to say the least, but I had been aware of the possibility since August. Sure, I lost some sleep those first few nights after Talleyʼs revelation, but eventually I was able to stop obsessing to the point of distraction. That didnʼt mean, however, I had forgotten.

“You know, having my guts ripped out by a werewolf is starting to sound not so bad,” I said as Talley jabbed me in the skull with a bobby pin.

“Must we resort to gallows humor?” Talley used unnecessary force as she situated another long strand of hair onto the back of my head.

“Well, itʼs bound to hurt less. What on earth are you doing back there?”

“Trying to get this to stay in place. I swear, even your hair is stubborn.”

“You donʼt really have to go to the trouble. Whatʼs the point? Itʼs not like I have an actual prom date.”

“Alex will be there. Donʼt you want to look nice for him?” When Alex found out I was being forced into attending prom, he decided to go too. I suggested that he ask Joi, since she had recently been dumped by John Davis. I knew better than to be jealous, and I wasnʼt, but I did feel like a loser.

“Okay, thatʼs it.” Talley doused my head with half a can of industrial strength, only-for-Southern-women hairspray. “Go look,” she said, pointing to the full length mirror mounted on the wall.

I didnʼt recognize the girl staring back at me. The dress Mrs. Matthews constructed looked like something out of an edgy fairy tale. She had attached layers upon layers of sheer gossamer material in a range of soft metallic shades to the crazy corset/bodice. The cut gave the illusion of a tiny waist and sizable chest, while the colors make my skin, hair, and eyes look more ethereal than freakish. Oddly enough, the messy up-do Talley had arranged on top of my head looked elegant and sexy.

“I thought you guys were Seers, not witches.”

“Witches?”

“Yeah, witches. Only witches are capable of magical transformations of this degree. Well, witches and fairies. Are you and your mom fairies?”

Talley laughed and came to stand beside me. “So, you like it? Do you feel pretty, oh so pretty?”

“I did until I saw myself next to you.” Talleyʼs dress was the more glamorous of Mrs.

Matthewsʼs prom creations. It was cut to make Talley look like a voluptuous sex goddess and was dyed the exact same shade of blue as her eyes. Her hair hung in perfect, shiny spiral curls. “Poor James. Heʼs not going to know what hit him.” A hint of red colored her creamy cheeks. “Itʼs not like that. Iʼm not trying to seduce him or anything. I just want him to have one nice night, one night to feel like he belongs, in his entire high school career.”

“Saint Talley,” I teased.

A knock on the door prevented Talley from shrugging off the comment in her trademark modesty or delivering a speech on how we should always do the right thing, whichever she was preparing. It was okay; I had heard them both before.

Mrs. Matthews stuck her head in the door, giving us a rare look of approval. “Well, you girls look just as pretty as a picture,” she said, her Appalachian accent becoming more pronounced in her obvious cheerful state. “I canʼt believe how grown up youʼre getting.” He eyes glistened in the light and I feared that she was going to shed an actual tear.

“Thank you, Mrs. Matthews. This dress is amazing. Youʼve really outdone yourself,” I said, remembering my manners.

Mrs. Matthews eyes critically trailed over me. “I shouldʼve put a bit more material up top.

Your mama ainʼt going to be proud that youʼre showing off your breasts to God and everybody.” Okay, now I was blushing. Mrs. Matthews shouldnʼt talk about my boobs and who could see them. Ever. And she really shouldnʼt try to readjust the top of my dress so they were better concealed, but I was too mortified to mention that to her.

“I reckon that will have to do,” she said, sighing at my bosom. “Your dates are getting tired of waiting on you two out there.”

“Dates?”

“What? Is that not the right thing to call them nowadays? Are they hooker-uppers?”

“Hooker-uppers?” I didnʼt know what that was supposed to be, but it sounded dirty.

“Scout is going stag, Mom. That means that she doesnʼt have a date.” It also meant I was pathetic, but whatever.

“Well, someone should have told that poor boy sitting in my living room.” Talley and I exchanged a look of confusion before rushing down the hall. Mrs. Matthews wasnʼt kidding. There were, indeed, dates. James sat on the edge of the loud floral print sofa like he was prepared to bolt out the door at a momentʼs notice. He looked...well, not good, but better. His hair had been washed and brushed, and he wore a tux as opposed to his normal too-short Wal-Mart jeans and Nintendo T-Shirt. Of course, the tux looked two sizes too big and the angry red marks on his face were more obvious without a curtain of greasy hair to hide them, but it was an improvement.

In contrast, the other guy looked like a GQ model perched on the arm of the sofa.

“Charlie?”

“Itʼs Hagan. Charles Hagan,” he said in a rather remarkable Sean Connery impersonation.

“What are you doing here?”

He stood up and straightened his jacket. “I am here to escort you to the dance, mʼ lady.”

“Since when?”

“Dammit. I knew I forgot something. Okay, here we go.” He took a deep breath and affected a look that reeked of fake sincerity. “Scout, will you please go to prom with me?”

“Nope.”

“Too bad. Iʼm taking you anyway.”

“Listen, I know Jase put you up to this--”

Charlie executed a snort-chuckle hybrid and shook his head. “Jase didnʼt put me up to anything. I drove four hours, rented this stupid monkey suit, and bought some rather attractive flowers because I wanted to take you to the prom. Now, say youʼll go with me.” I felt certain there were other reasons bringing Charlie to Timber this particular weekend, but I let it slide. “Let me see those flowers.”

His smile was triumphant as he slid the corsage on my wrist. They really were rather attractive, for the most part. Tiny, delicate roses in every color imaginable were interspersed with babyʼs breath. I couldnʼt understand, however, why someone had stuck a clump of oddly shaped yellow flowers in the middle. “What kind of flower is this?”

“Iʼm supposed to be a botanist now?”

“Are you going to be snippy all night?”

“Does that mean weʼll be together all night?”

Like there was ever any doubt. “I guess it wonʼt kill me to help you relive your high school glory days for one night.”

“Thatʼs what I thought,” he said slinging an arm over my shoulder.

Dinner was a painfully awkward affair. Valero's, one of only two formal dining establishments within a forty-five minute drive of the school, had overbooked. The four of us crammed ourselves around a table meant for two. We kept bumping elbows and grabbing the wrong water glass. Charlie attempted to engage James in conversation, but that went over about as well as a Joan Crawford parenting manual.