Echo Into Darkness: Book 2 in The Echo Saga (Teen Paranormal Romance) (12 page)

Connor smacked her on the back, and a full-fledged pillow war ensued.

She was an equal match, holding her ground, swinging as hard as he did. I wondered what sort of gift she had, and if she was as talented as him.
Good enough
for him was the phrase I was tap-dancing around, because this was the girl Mr. McCabe thought his son should be dating.

I watched them for much too long, mesmerized by the sight of holographic people rough-housing in my room. When their battle came too close, I actually stepped out of the way before remembering they weren't real. None of this was real. But it had happened. Connor had cared about her.

Connor charged the girl and they tumbled onto the floor in a laughing mass of tangled limbs.

"Oh, no," I said.

She set her pillow aside and kissed him on the temple.

"Ack! This is not happening." The phone bobbled in my grip.

The girl ran her hand down his back and under his t-shirt.

"You skank! Get away from him! Don't let her touch you!" Which button did I have to push to put an end to this catastrophe?

It was as though Connor heard me, because he got that faraway look on his face, like he was thinking about something else, someone else. He leaned away from the girl.

She kissed his neck.

"No. No! NO!" I yelled. I pressed the Off button. When that failed, I tapped every icon on the screen. The image would not change.

Connor kissed the inside of her wrist and moved it into her lap, signaling he was done. She crawled toward him.

I threw the device against the wall.

The image flickered and then reappeared a few feet from the phone. Lines of white static cut across the two holographic bodies, but it didn't prevent the girl from pushing her fingers through his hair. I snatched the device off the floor and ran to the bathroom with that damn hologram following right behind. I threw the phone in the toilet. Sparks flew; the image sputtered and died.

I sank to the edge of the tub with my face in my hands. What was it going to take to get over this guy?

A sob caught in my throat. It was pointless to feel this way, months after we'd split up, and it was pointless to ache over a relationship that Connor had been in a year before we ever set eyes on each other. I turned on the faucet and let the cool water run over my face.

Connor had a past, and he was going to have a future. Without me. It was high time I gave up my pitiful daydreams and got a firm grip on this reality. It was time to move on.

*******

Sunday night brought another shift at the Smoothie Shack.

"I need to cut back on my hours," I told my manager, Joe. "I can't keep up with my homework."

"Don't make any hasty decisions until you see this." He handed me an envelope. Inside was my first paycheck ever.

"Ninety dollars. Yeah!" I said.

"That's the gross amount. Your take-home pay is at the bottom."

He pointed to the bunch of lines subtracting from the overall amount.

"What? Who are these people, and why are they taking all my money?" I asked.

"They're not people, they're government. The more you make, the more they take out as your contribution to society. By now I'm contributing, like, two hundred bucks per paycheck." He stuck his chest out. "But that's because I'm management. One day, I'll be District Manager and they'll take out a lot more than that. Pretty awesome, huh?"

I shook my head. "You're weird." I stuffed the check in my pocket.

"Hey, respect authority. And you have a customer." Joe went into the back.

Jaxon leaned on the counter, his mouth caught somewhere between a smile and a smirk. His eyes trailed over the completely unimpressive shop. "Fruit drinks
and
arcade games. I've really been missing out."

I squinted one eye. "If you've come to hassle me, this is a bad time."

"Not on my agenda tonight." He dovetailed his fingers and curled them together. Tapped his thumbs. "Do you have time to talk?"

I blew out a cheek full of air. The place was empty except for a grade-schooler and his parents who passed by my counter and went straight to the arcade.

"I dunno. I could be mobbed at any minute." I let the sarcasm flow.

Jaxon looked at me, and then away. "I wanted to apologize for not…" He drummed his pinkies on the counter.

"Not what?"

"Well. Protecting you. From the Mutila or you know, whoever came after you on your way home from the skatepark."

"You made it pretty clear you weren't going to come to my rescue. Ever. I shouldn't even expect a fistfight on my behalf because, according to you, I can take down an entire super-soldier army on an as-needed basis."

"Can't you?"

I sighed. "I hate violence. Besides, the idea terrifies me. My ability isn't exactly predictable when I'm scared."

"Not even to save yourself?"

"Even then. It locks up when I'm freaked out."

Defending myself against Solomon had driven that weakness home. I had no reason to believe I'd recover from that mental block, and prayed I'd never have to find out. A lump formed in my belly. Time to change the subject.

"You've never told me what
your
skills are." I gave him a friendly nudge. "You spent the last nine years living in nirvana. You must be an expert at something. Postcognition? Pyrokinesis?"

"Nope." Jaxon's gaze jogged along the counter.

"A healer? No? Okay, let me read your aura. I bet I can guess."

His lip curled. "Don't bother."

"Isn't that cute. You have a shy side."

"I'm part of the twenty percent." He crossed his arms.

"Twenty percent?"

The corners of his eyes dropped and he flashed a pout, like
do I really have to explain it to you?
Then I remembered. "Eighty percent of West Region citizens have at least one gift."

"The rest don't. Since I was born here, it's no surprise," he added.

"But everyone in West Region gets training." That was the key to bringing out talent in some of the kids.

"It was a big waste of time. Nothing ever developed," he answered.

As his eyes found the far wall, I gave his shoulder a squeeze. Living in Connor's world without any ability must have made him feel even more out of place, and that I could relate to.

"No wonder you're not afraid of the factions," I said cheerfully. "You're free from all this paranormal junk. They won't want anything to do with you." I'd meant it as a sort of compliment. Like, look on the bright side.

"That's another reason I'm glad to be back in my own time. West Region doesn't respect you unless you have some sort of gift."

That couldn't be true. Connor had said…No. Forget what he said. Forget all about him. My life was about moving forward now.

"Well, I think you're lucky. You'll fit in fine here," I said.

His chocolate brown eyes softened. That sensation came over me again, from when he kissed me the skatepark, like there was a storm slowly brewing between us.

"What about you? You as gifted as they say?" he asked.

I lifted a shoulder. "I can do a few things." I slipped off my magnetic bracelets. The shop and The Cave were safe for now, so I let my aura trail along the cooler to the blender. I telekinetically turned it on. I did a swirly thing with my finger and turned it off.

Jaxon's cheek twitched. "You can manipulate on-off buttons. That's what everyone was so excited about?" He faked a yawn, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm just warming up," I said.

A display basket on the counter was loaded with bananas, peaches, and apples. An apple launched itself into my hand.

"For you." I offered, but when he reached for it, I pulled back. "Nah-ah. Wait." I balanced the apple on my palm and levitated it until it was directly between us.

"Take a bite," I said.

He gave me an inquisitive grin. As he leaned in with his mouth open, I did the same on the other side. Our mouths pressed into the firm skin and we each sunk our teeth into the apple's flesh, taking a full bite. The fruit dropped to the counter. Juice ran down the corner of his mouth. I wiped it away with my thumb. He chewed slowly and swallowed hard.

"I have a couple of theories about you," he said.

"Yeah?"

"One. I still don't think you're as talented as they say. And two, I don't think you're as angelic as you let on."

"You're right, but only on one count," I replied.

"Which one?"

"Guess you'll have to figure it out," I challenged, surprised at my boldness.

"I look forward to it." Jaxon pinned his eyes on mine, took another bite of the apple, and walked out of the shop.

Chapter 14

I had hardly any customers the rest of the night, leaving me plenty of time to obsess about the kids I'd seen at The Asylum. I was mad they'd crashed into Becca's car. Madder still that they had so easily and boldly come after me like easy prey, right out in public.

When I obsessed, I went all out: my nails got bitten down to the bed, my knuckles turned red from wringing, my mind went ballistic in a million directions at once. When my shift ended at nine o'clock, I called Kimber. "I'll take the bus," I told her. "You can stay late at the Rose Club." I headed for the bus stop two blocks away.

By the time the number fourteen picked me up, I was freezing my butt off. I stuffed my hands inside my coat to warm them and watched the downtown city lights disappear behind me.

I rode across the river to the warehouse district and got off a few blocks from The Asylum. The surrounding businesses were busy loading and unloading delivery trucks twenty-four seven, but that didn't make the dark streets any more enticing. I jogged the rest of the way to the skatepark.

The sign outside The Asylum said they closed at nine on Sundays, but the door hung open. Cracks webbed across the glass door. A blackness that I could feel but not see scraped down the back of my neck. I froze.

They
were here. They were right inside. I backed away slowly and prepared to full out sprint out of there.

A masculine voice, unnaturally squeaky, called from inside. "Is anybody out there? Um…help?"

The voice was non-threatening. I listened closely and didn't hear anyone else poking around. I crept inside. Skater clothing lay everywhere. Helmets, knee pads, shoes, and skateboard parts littered the space. It was as if someone had tipped the entire gear store upside down and emptied it over the rest of the shop.

"Oh wow. Oh man. It's
you
," that same voice came from behind the counter. Tugg was suspended halfway up the concrete wall, hanging by the back of his shirt.

My eyes bugged. "What the…"

"Don't just stand there. Get me a chair." His arms and legs flailed as he tried to shake himself loose.

I hauled a stool over from the concession stand. Tugg balanced on it and unhooked himself. When he lowered next to me, I was reminded of his massive size. I was afraid to ask who had hoisted him off the floor, but Mutila energy cut through the air like daggers. It wasn't hard to guess.

"Are they gone?" I asked. "Whoever did this, I mean."

He glared at me and swore. "Out. I don't want you here. Go." His knees shook. He planted a hand on my back and shoved me toward the door.

"Wait, I have to talk to you."

"Forget it. Don't ever come here again, and you were never here. Got it? I know nothing."

"I'm not going anywhere." I turned to face him, and he skittered backward with his hands raised between us. Given his size, I found it more than a little disturbing that he was afraid of me. "I get it," I said calmly, "you're wigged out, but I need you to think back to the night I was here with my friend Becca. Remember?"

He squeezed his eyes tight. "Yeah."

"There were three kids here that night." I described the girl and the two guys, and Tugg shook his head violently.

"No, I don't know anything. Now get out…" Movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him. If it were possible, he turned a lighter shade of gray. "What the—"

I followed his gaze to the skating bowl. All the store's skateboards, dozens of them, cruised across the concrete as if ridden by ghosts. They skidded on the bowl's lip, launched up the quarter pipe, jumped over each other.

"Whoa," I said.

Tugg babbled nonsensically and his legs went limp. He put his head between his knees.

Secretly, this was the kind of thing that upset me the most, seeing a normal person's reaction to paranormal occurrences. It reminded me how much of a freak I was.

I rested a hand on Tugg's shoulder. "Tell me what happened here tonight."

He shook his head. "Too crazy. Too crazy."

Frightened people often refused to talk, even when it was in their best interest. I saw this all the time when my dad and I lived in a crime-ridden neighborhood south of Seattle. Our neighbors witnessed the worst of human behavior, but when the police came around asking questions, they clammed right up.