Predominance (20 page)

Sarah narrowed her eyes at him and then turned back to me. She took my face in both hands again, pressed her lips against my bandages, and smacked a kiss that was heard throughout the entire cabin. “There!” she said with a smile on her face.

Damian sneered.

Looking in his direction, I noticed that Yvette had been standing behind him this whole time, her eyes moving back and forth between Sarah and me. She stalked hastily to the front door and opened it. “Yvette?” I called after her. She stopped at the threshold and waited, her eyes looking at the floor. “Where are you going?” I asked.

Her eyes rose with a glare that pierced right through me, practically making a hole in my chest. “I need to get some air,” she said icily and stormed out of the cabin, slamming the door behind her. Damian gave me a trenchant look, and walked over to Denali.

“I'll be back,” I told Sarah, and ran after Yvette. I didn't have to be a genius to understand what had upset her; I only hoped I could set things straight. I looked around from the porch and found Yvette standing by the pond, her eyes facing the water. As I walked over there, I examined her pick from Granny's Stuff. She was wearing a tea-length flowered dress that ended exactly at the beginning of a pair of three-quarter length boots. The dress was old, yet it fit perfectly, as if tailored intentionally to accentuate the curves of her body. The boots were made of suede with an embroidered pattern on the sides, which gave them a Pocahontas look.

The cherry on top of the ice cream was the black-and-white Yankees jacket I'd given her when we escaped from the lab, which she'd decided to wear over the dress. And although the whole outfit was a complete mismatch, I couldn't help noticing how well she pulled it off. Her beauty was so compelling that she could've been wearing candy wrappers for a dress and still would have made it look like a fashion statement.

“Yvee?” I called, trying to sound comforting—but, for some reason, I sounded guilty instead. “Are you all right?” I asked.

She spun around and faced me; anger filled her eyes. “No, Victor! I'm not all right! I thought I understood what was happening, but I don't! I'm more confused now than ever before—and it's killing me!” She paused and took a deep, calming breath. “Please, Victor… just tell me the truth.”

It took a long moment for me to figure out what truth she was talking about. I really didn't want to try to answer an unasked question, especially one where I'd be at a loss myself. “Well,” I finally began. “I still don't have all the answers, Yvee. All I know is that the procedure wasn't what we thought—”

“I'm not talking about the procedure!” she cut me off sharply. “I'm talking about you and Carrot-Top over there!”

Though her words didn't catch me entirely by surprise, they still startled me. “Sarah?” I said innocently. “She's my friend, Yvee… She saved my life. Several times.”

She sighed in defeat, her voice calm now. “Yeah… I know.” She paused regretfully. “I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm acting like a psycho… am I acting like a psycho?” she asked distressfully, too cutely for me not to laugh.

“No,” I said, reaching out to her. Her eyes followed my hands as they entwine with hers, then rose to meet my gaze. A coating of tears glazed her amazing baby blues now. My smile disappeared as I got lost inside her eyes, which sent an inexplicable shock of energy throughout my entire body. A message was decoded in my brain in a fraction of a second, as if the wave of energy I'd felt from her had been nothing more than an unspoken question my mind had been able to sense through our touch. “Do you still love me?” my mind interpreted, as her eyes probed the depths of mine.

“With all my heart,” I said aloud, tightening our clasped hands.

My words startled Yvette, yet a soft smile lit up her face. “What?” she asked.

I shook my head, as if coming out of a trance. “I'm sorry. I thought you asked me something.”

“I didn't say anything,” she mused. “But I felt it… Just like I felt your answer before it came out of your lips.” She exhaled heavily, confused. “This is weird. Should we be worried?”

“About reading each other's feelings?” I smiled. “I wouldn't change it for the world.”

She grinned and cupped the side of my face. Her eyes closed as if concentrating on what she was able to feel now. “Wow,” she exclaimed softly. “Is this real?”

“What do you feel?” I asked.

She opened her eyes. “I feel… you.” She smiled and blushed. “Do you really love me this much?”

“Of course.” My voice was merely a whisper, yet it held all the power of the truth.

“Then say it,” she said, just as quietly.

I took her face in my hands and lowered my head to her eye level, searching for her soul in that perfect, clear ocean inside her eyes, and said, “I really do love you this much, Yvette Hermione Montgomery.”

“Oh my God! I'd hoped you'd forgotten that awful name by now.” Her voice was light, but her face relaxed as her lips curved into the most pleasant smile I've ever seen, as if some terrible pain had just been soothed by my words. It was then that I realized those three simple words had become our very own salvation—three words that when played in unison become the most beautiful and powerful sound of all. Like a piano key: a high-octave note buried deep inside our hearts, a key that when finally played could ignite the most intense and profound feeling known to humanity. A feeling that can make any and all logic and reason disappear; a feeling that once felt can dictate the course of the rest of your life.

I had just played this key inside Yvette's heart.

When her eyes opened again, they opened as if to a brand new world. No traces of fear or sadness haunted her face now. She was happy, and so was I. This inexplicable connection that our touch had created between us had allowed our minds to read our feelings like open books. Yet understanding that I now knew how much she felt for me didn't stop Yvette from striking that high note inside my heart as well. She cupped the back of my head and, pulling my face close to hers, said, “I love you too, Victor.”

At that moment, nothing else mattered—nothing. The entire world's population could have circled around us, and we still would have felt as if we were the only ones in it. Our lips could no longer resist the urge to reach out for each other, so we closed our eyes and let our love take over. Soon we found ourselves lost in a kiss that ignited that powerful spark in my head again, allowing my hypersenses to expand so that I felt everything in extremes: the beating of her heart, the warmth of her body, the susurrus of her breathing, the taste of her lips...it was driving me absolutely mad. But this time, my mind was not only sensing and reading, it was also being sensed and read by Yvette's, creating a connection beyond our comprehension. The ecstasy we felt through this connection was such that neither of us wanted to let go from the kiss. The need for oxygen, however, soon made us break apart, if only to catch our breath.

What we witnessed then made us realize my mind had gone a little farther than just connecting with Yvette's mind and senses.

Stones from the shore of the pond were hovering around us, like planets orbiting a powerful binary star. It was like watching the abstract power of our love, laid bare by this otherwise intangible event. Alas, the connection with them broke as we realized that, and they pattered to the ground. Yvette laughed in astonishment. “Wow!” she panted, still trying to catch her breath. Her awe-filled eyes locked with mine. “Did you do that?”

“I guess I did,” I admitted. “I'm still trying to control this...this thing I have, you know? But it sometimes gets out of hand.” I stopped as my voice began to sound cagy and studied Yvette for a moment, wondering about the connection that had allowed her to sense my feelings. Was it just a projection of my new mental abilities, or had Yvette's mind also been altered by the procedure? The mere thought of it frightened me.

“What is it?” she asked, as she noticed my scrutiny.

“Nothing,” I said feebly, then: “No. I won't lie. It's just that… My brain was changed by Walker's procedure, Yvee. Yours could have been altered too. Maybe not in the same way as mine or Damian's—I mean, according to Sarah, this is the rarest of side effects—but it could still carry some consequences. That's why I need you to tell me if you feel anything strange at all, anything that you feel is out of the ordinary.”

“Well,” she began with a smile, “there's one thing… Look!” she said, placing her hands firmly over mine, her eyes fixed on them. At first I couldn't see what she was trying to show me, but then she finally said it: “My tremors are gone!” she exclaimed, tears in her eyes. I smiled, realizing what a big deal this was. I'd felt the same way when I realized my headaches were gone.

Of course, I would never have agreed to let Walker cure them had I known the price I was about to pay, but...

“This is great!” I celebrated with her.

“What about your headaches?” she asked excited.

“They're gone, too.” My response was short; I didn't want to get into details for the fear of ruining our happy moment.

“You know what this means?” Her question was rhetorical. “We have another chance…” she paused, as if waiting for me to finish the sentence. Her eyes were enough for me to go back in time and remember our conversation under the weeping willow.

“To live?” I asked softly.

“To live,” she confirmed with a smile.

Two worries invaded my mind at that moment. One was the possibility of the change wrought by the dark energy, a transformation that would only lead to my demise. The other was the thought of having found the love of my life, only to lose her again.

I pushed the worries into the back of my mind and locked them away, hoping I'd never see them again.

But neither our celebration nor our happy moment lasted long. A brand new chapter in our ordeal was about to start, and there was nothing we could do to stop it. I was still holding Yvette when a distressed call yanked us back to reality. “Mr. Victor?” Denali yelled.

“What's wrong?” I shouted over my shoulder.

“I dunno! You better come and take a look!”

My eyes followed him as he ran back into the cabin, scared and confused. I tried to keep calm; somehow, I knew I had to. I could sense that something terrible was about to happen. I asked Yvette to come with me; she held my hand with both hands and walked with me along the path. I couldn't help but notice someone staring at us from the window, following us with her eyes as we walked back to the cabin. It was Sarah; her eyes seemed glossy and sad, yet fixed on us.

I needed no clairvoyance to realize that she had been watching us all along. I had to admit that her surveillance made me feel uneasy... And after learning how Yvette felt about Sarah, I knew that Yvette wouldn't like it either. So I kept my eyes away from the window, thinking that if I didn't look in that direction, maybe Yvette wouldn't look either. But once again, I underestimated the female power of perception. When I turned back to Yvette, I noticed she was already glaring into the window. It was then that I realized that Yvette had probably noticed Sarah presence even before I did.

It seemed odd that none of my newly acquired powers were a match for feminine intuition.

Yvette wrapped her arm around my waist, sending a distinctive and intentional signal of possession. Her eyes wouldn't turn away from that window—they almost seemed defiant. I took hold of her, mirroring her gesture, and picked up the pace, trying to end this awkward moment. Sarah took one last look at us and turned away from the window, thank God. I couldn't help wondering what was going through her head at that moment.  

When Yvette and I walked into the cabin, we found everyone on their feet, standing around the big couch where Roger had laid down to rest. “What's going on?” I asked, cutting between them. The fact that nobody answered me straightaway should have tipped me to the severity of the situation. Sarah, who was now kneeling next to the couch, held a belt folded into a wad and was trying to slide it between Roger's teeth as a protection. He was having a seizure-like episode and was grinding his teeth. She was able to successfully slide the belt into place right before he began to shake with uncontrollable spasms. I didn't have to be an expert to realize that this wasn't a normal seizure. Roger's body was rejecting whatever had been deployed inside his brain; the question was, would he live through it?

His back suddenly arched, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. The whole experience was terrifying and painful to watch. One final spasm shuddered through his body as we all just stood there, watching, powerless to help him. Once the convulsions stopped, Sarah asked Damian to help her roll the nearly three-hundred-pound man onto his side while she fixed a pillow under his head. “Roger?” Sarah called, trying to get a response from him. But he was out. “He's not responding,” she said.

“Oh my God!” Laura exclaimed. “Is he going to die?”

“No!” Sarah said quickly, but then she shook her head and turned back to me. “...I don't know. His vitals are normal. But for some reason he's fallen into a comatose state. It's the first time I've seen something like this. We have no choice but to wait it out.”

A strange mixture of pain and anger filled me as I watched Roger lie there, completely helpless. I felt pain because no one should have to go through such suffering, and anger because I knew the responsible ones hadn't paid yet and maybe never would. The feelings overwhelmed me, and I began to feel my eyes burning with my anger.