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Authors: C. J. Omololu

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BOOK: Intuition
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“Pretty good. Tired, mostly.”

“Is that it? No other symptoms?” I search her face, trying to see if she's been having any memories.

“Not really. Just taking lots of naps. By the way,” she continues, “where were you last night? I was texting but you never answered.”

I take a deep breath. I can keep lying to her, or I can finally tell her the truth. “I was at a party. At Drew's house.”

Her eyes grow wide. “Drew? From the Marina party?”

“Yes.” I look down. “Nothing's happened,” I say quickly. “It was just a party with some other Akhet people.”

“But what about Griffon?”

I think about what he said to me in the hallway of Janine's office that day and feel my anger rise. “What about him? He's gone, Rayne, and he's not coming back. Not to me, anyway. I have to move on.” I think about the easy way he has with Giselle. “I'm sure he will.”

“I thought you loved him.” She looks almost like I've broken up with her instead of Griffon.

“I do—I did. But I also have a history with Drew. We were married once, remember? I need to find out if we're meant to go back to that place, to be those people again.”

“But you haven't even kissed him? This time, I mean.”

I shake my head. “Not even close.” It's not a total lie.

“This whole thing is so insane,” Rayne says. “How was the party?”

“Interesting,” I say. I look at her eager face, and wish I could tell her everything. But I can't, not yet. Rayne doesn't know she's Akhet, and telling her now would ruin the whole night. “You should see Drew's apartment. It's on the top of the tallest building downtown and decorated by a designer. Looks like it belongs in a magazine. It's crazy.”

“So, are you going to go out with him again? What is he, like, twenty-five? Your parents are going to freak out.”

“He's only twenty,” I say. “And they already did. He came by the house the other day to ask me out and they saw him on the porch. Luckily Mom was asleep on the couch by the time I got
home last night, and I snuck into my room without her having a clue.”

“I take it back,” Rayne says. “I thought nothing you could do would top Kat's leaving, but this might do it.”

“Which is why we're not going to tell them. I have a bribe for you if you cover for me.”

“You know you don't have to bribe me. But I'm listening.”

“Remember Portia Martin is playing tonight at the Arena?”

“Yeah. I also know that the tickets sold out in minutes. I tried to win a pair on the radio for weeks.”

“What if I told you that not only can we go to the show, but we have backstage passes?”

“No freaking way!” Rayne pushes me on the shoulder. “How did you . . . ?” She's quiet for a second. “Did Drew get them for you?”

“Indirectly,” I say. “I sort of sat next to Portia at dinner last night. I promised her we'd come, so you can't say no.”

“Wait, wait—you sat next to
Portia Martin
? She knows who I am?”

“Yep. And she said that she'll be personally hurt if we don't come tonight, as long as you're feeling up to it. Drew said that he'd pick us up, but I can't do it at my place. Can he pick us up here?”

“Um,
yeah
.” Rayne licks some cupcake frosting from her fingers. “Hurry up! If we're going backstage at Portia Martin's show, we have to start getting ready now.”

“So I'm forgiven?”

Rayne smiles at me. “There was never any question. You
don't have to resort to bribery. Although I have to say, I kind of like it when you do.”

I'm trying not to be impressed, I really am. When Drew came to get us in a Mercedes so new it still had the dealer tags on it, I tried to pretend like it was no big deal, even when Rayne leaned over and whispered to me that he was possibly the most beautiful man she'd ever seen in real life. When we were ushered into the very back of the Arena and straight into Portia's dressing room, I acted like I did this kind of thing every day. Even when Portia leaped up off the couch and gave us all big hugs, I shrugged it off like I was just visiting a friend at her house. But now, standing just a few feet off the main stage, watching Portia up front with the lights beating down and thousands of fans screaming at her feet, I know my smile has pretty much taken over my face.

“I got you some water,” Drew says into my ear as he hands each of us a bottle.

“Thanks!” Rayne just grins and waves her backstage pass at me like it's all unreal. We found a stool for her to sit on while she watches, and other than looking a little tired, she's doing okay.

As we wait in the wings, Drew stands behind me, not so close that we're touching, but close enough so I can feel the Akhet vibrations between us. I check my phone again for anything from Janine. I feel so helpless, like I failed them all.

“Expecting a call?” Drew asks, nodding to the phone.

“No,” I say, tucking it back into my pocket. “Just habit.”

“Good,” he says. “Tonight you should forget about everything else and just enjoy yourself.”

He's right. How often do I get to be backstage at an Arena show? Portia finishes her song and waves to the crowd as they pound on the floor and scream for more. Her backup dancers race by us for a costume change, their muscles glistening with sweat, grabbing water as they head deeper backstage. The stage lights dim and a hush comes over the Arena.

Drew's been leaning against the wall, but as soon as Portia starts speaking into the microphone, he snaps to attention. “Crap! She's not going to, is she?”

Because the speakers are pointed away from us, I don't catch everything she says. “What?” I look over at Rayne, who just shrugs.

Drew runs his hand through his hair. “I helped her out on a couple of songs on the last album. But she promised she wasn't going to make a thing out of it.”

I look up and see Portia turned away from the audience, her arm extended in our direction.

“Guess I don't have a choice,” Drew says. “Will you ladies excuse me for just a minute?” Plastering a smile on his face, Drew strides confidently out onto the stage and grabs Portia's hand. She says something to the audience and everyone cheers as Drew walks over to the grand piano that's off to one side and sits down.

All I can see is the top of his head as he bends over the keys, and in seconds, the first bars of Portia's newest hit come bursting through the speakers. Portia stands motionless next to the
piano, one lone spotlight illuminating her figure, the rest of the stage bare. The crowd is silent as she begins singing about losing her love to someone else, the sense of loss and longing transmitted perfectly to every single heart in the massive space. She sings to the audience, who wave their arms in slow motion, and turns to Drew as she reaches the part of the song where she talks about finding someone just like the one she lost. Even though it's just Portia and Drew and the piano, no flashing lights or glittering backup dancers, it's the most beautiful moment of the whole night.

“What's up with that?” Rayne leans over and whispers in my ear. “I didn't know Drew could play.”

“I think there's not much he can't do.” I watch as the song finishes and Drew stands up and waves to the crowd. Everyone is on their feet, screaming for more as Portia wraps her arms around him and plants a kiss on his lips. She said that they had a history, but now I'm wondering just how long ago that history ended.

“Sorry about that,” Drew says a little sheepishly as he joins us backstage. There are beads of sweat on his upper lip that he rubs away with the sleeve of his shirt.

“That was amazing,” Rayne says, a flicker of awe in her eyes. “I love that song. Why didn't you tell us you played on it?”

We flatten ourselves against the wall as the dancers rush back onstage and the lights come up for the next song. “We were just messing around in the studio one day, and that came out,” he says. “We had no idea it was going to take off like it did.” He glances at me, a faintly guilty look in his eyes. “She usually has one of the guys in the band play the piano part. I honestly didn't think she was going to do that.”

I smile. “You were great.”

Relief washes over his face, and I realize just how much he cares what I think.

“I'm glad,” he says. “It didn't matter that thousands of people were out there. What mattered was that you were back here. Every word, every note, was for you.”

There's a pause, and it feels like time stops for just a moment. Everything seems to come into sharp focus as the music and the stage are pushed into the background. I see the way Drew's hair is damp at the ends from the heat of the stage, and the outline of the ankh he wears through the thin fabric of his shirt. I see the way we were back then, how safe and protected I felt with Connor's arms around me and how unbelievably broken I felt when he was gone.

I want to be part of something like that again—to feel that level of devotion again. Drew loves me even though I've given him every reason not to, and eventually he'll stop giving me second chances. Someday soon, he's going to stop asking.

I reach up and put my arms around his neck, pulling him to me and pressing my lips against his in a kiss that I hope holds both an apology and a promise.

Drew pulls back, surprised, and looks into my eyes for confirmation that it wasn't an accident, like somehow I tripped and fell into him. I smile, almost embarrassed now. He throws his head back and laughs, picking me up and spinning me around, giving me a kiss that's both tender and insistent. I put one hand on his chest, and his heart is beating so loud and so fast it drowns out the Akhet vibrations between us.

As he sets me back down, I look over at Rayne. She's
watching it all with a smile on her face, and I know that any sins against Griffon have been forgiven. “Nice,” she mouths, and I roll my eyes at her.

We're walking through the parking lot after the show when my hand bumps Drew's, and instead of moving apart, he wraps his fingers through mine, watching my face to see that it's okay, that things have changed enough between us to hold hands in public.

I glance up at Rayne, who's walking ahead of us through the rows of cars, her head bent and the light from her phone reflected in her face; texting Peter, I'm sure.

“You don't have to worry,” I say, leaning into him. “I'm not going to run away.”

Drew laughs and squeezes my hand tighter. “I guess I'm not totally sure of that.” He brings my hand up to his lips and kisses my fingers. “It's just so hard to believe that you're here, that you're with me now. It's been so long.”

“I thought the kissing might have convinced you,” I say.

“I might need a little more convincing,” Drew says, leaning in and kissing me deeply. I can feel his hunger inside, an overwhelming desire so intense it scares me.

I hear a phone clatter to the ground, and we look up to see Rayne slumped against the hood of an old car from the '50s. She's not completely unconscious, but looks dazed and not totally aware of us as we rush over to see if she's okay.

I recognize the look in her eyes, seeing but not seeing, and know she's someplace else. “I think she's having a memory,” I say.

“What are you talking about?” Drew grabs her by the
shoulders and eases her onto the ground next to the car. As he lets go of her arms, he turns to me. “Why am I feeling Akhet vibrations from her?”

“I'm okay,” Rayne says thickly. She tries to stand up, but her legs are wobbling under her. “I just had the weirdest flashback.” She rubs her forehead. “I've been getting them a lot lately. I think it's from the stuff that Veronique gave me.”

“It is, sort of,” I say, helping her up. “What did you see?”

She squints. “I was driving an old turquoise blue car on a country road somewhere. It had these huge fins on the back like it was the '50s. It was really hot, so the windows were down, and I was blowing cigarette smoke out into the air.”

I look at the car she's leaning against. It's red, not blue, but it has the same huge fins in the back. “Was it like this car?”

Rayne looks at it thoughtfully. “Yeah, it was, kind of.”

Drew stares at me, taking it all in. “You don't mean . . . how . . . ?”

I exhale. I should have done this long before now. It's not fair to keep either of them in the dark, even if it's for different reasons. “Let's find Drew's car. I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Twenty-Six

“So Rayne's fine with it?” Janine asks, leaning back in her chair as I tell her a carefully edited version of last night's events.

“More than fine with it,” I say. “Thrilled is more like it. I wish you could have seen her face when I told her. I thought she'd be pissed about what Veronique had done, but I don't think I've ever seen her happier.”

BOOK: Intuition
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