True Colors (6 page)
“Which appears to include a cousin we didn’t know about.”
“Yeah.”
Alex chewed at her lower lip. “Is it okay if I file that information away for later and we just hit the highlights?”
“I think that’s a good idea, considering.”
“So this cousin was empathic?”
“Yes, and when she died,” Charlie said, “I was holding her hand. AnnaCoreen thinks I—”
“AnnaCoreen?”
“She’s a friend who has some experience in this sort of thing. She thinks that when Laurette—that’s our cousin—died, I absorbed her empathic ability, and that it supercharged mine.”
Alex couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped past her lips. “This sounds ... I don’t know . . . just weird.” And completely freaking unbelievable.
“I had a hard time at first, too. You’ll get used to it.” Charlie paused, wet her lips. “I mean, you’ll get used to the
idea
. I haven’t gotten used to the ability. I don’t think I ever will.”
idea
. I haven’t gotten used to the ability. I don’t think I ever will.”
Alex stared through the windshield as the scrubby landscape gave way to beachside restaurants, hotels and gift shops. The Gulf of Mexico was a glittery backdrop in the sun. Everything about this moment felt surreal.
“So what happens?” she asked.
“I’d rather hear how it’s happening for you.”
Alex’s brain went blank. She had no idea. All she remembered was spinning disorientation and the incredibly intense sense of being not herself anymore. The first time—or at least the first time she’d become totally aware of what happened—had been right after Logan pulled that little girl out of the burning van. But then the van had exploded, and the chaos had distracted her until later that night. By then, she just hadn’t known what to think.
“Alex?”
She blinked. “You first.”
Charlie didn’t try to dodge, which was unusual for her. “It happens when I make skin-on-skin contact with another person. I relive something traumatic that happened to them recently. It’s just a flash, and then it’s over.” She paused as she pulled over to the side of the road in front of a fuchsia shack sporting a neon sign advertising psychic readings for ten dollars.
“So that’s why you wouldn’t touch me?” Alex asked. “Because you didn’t want to . . . what? Feel what it was like when I got shot?”
Charlie’s lips curved slightly, but it was a sad smile. “I already felt that. I was there, remember?”
And then it hit her. Charlie hadn’t been protecting
herself
. Alex sank back against the seat. “You didn’t want me to feel what you went through when you were kidnapped.”
herself
. Alex sank back against the seat. “You didn’t want me to feel what you went through when you were kidnapped.”
“And you ended up being blindsided by it anyway. I’m sorry I let my guard down.”
Alex squinted at the pink shack, wondering idly why Lake Avalon Beach even let such an eyesore take up precious beach property. Thinking that was easier than thinking about what she’d just learned.
She rubbed at her burning eyes, then winced as her fingers brushed a tender place high on her cheekbone, almost like she had a bruise. No way had Charlie struck her hard enough to leave a bruise, and it had much more likely been a slap rather than a punch anyway—
“Your empathy is different from mine,” Charlie said softly. “When you touched me, you were gone. For a long time.”
Alex turned her head to look at her sister, noted how pale she still looked despite the tan from working in her garden.
Charlie took in a shaky breath before she went on. “I had to slap you to bring you back.” She tried to smile at Alex but managed only a grimace. “I don’t know how, but your ability is different.”
Alex glanced down at her tangled hands in her lap. Different, great.
Suddenly, Charlie grasped Alex’s chin and angled her head up, her eyes becoming scrutinizing slits. “What the hell? I didn’t hit you
that
hard.”
that
hard.”
Alex pulled back with a wince at the painful pressure on her jaw. “Ow.”
Charlie’s gaze dropped to Alex’s hands, as though searching for something she was afraid to find. Gentle this time, she curled her fingers around Alex’s right forearm and lifted her hand to inspect the raw, red skin and bruises encircling her wrist. Her other forearm sported similar injuries.
Charlie let out a shocked breath. “Oh, God.”
Alex stared at her wrists, her own disbelieving “Oh, God” echoing in her head. She remembered being inside Charlie’s head, remembered struggling to get free of the tight bonds around her wrists.
Somehow, what had happened to her sister then had carried over into her own reality.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Y
ou still thinking you’ll turn that kid Justin around?”
ou still thinking you’ll turn that kid Justin around?”
Logan glanced up at his lunch companion. Noah Lassiter had a bacon cheeseburger in one hand and a can of Coke in the other. In a navy polo, white shorts and sun-streaked hair, he looked like a tourist, minus the sunburn. Fleeing his life as a police detective in Chicago in favor of private investigation in Lake Avalon, along with living with Charlie, seemed to agree with the man.
“Yeah, I do,” Logan said.
“Why don’t you just take the kid into custody and get it over with? He’ll get the help he needs that way.”
“He needs to make the choice.”
Logan took a drink of Coke and squinted out at the pedestrian traffic that flowed past the sidewalk cafe. People in shorts, tank tops and sunglasses mixed with men and women in business suits or khaki pants. Tourists and residents alike out for lunch or a stroll. Since it was May, residents outnumbered the tourists, most of whom had returned to their northern homes after Easter. But the weather was still comfortable ahead of the dense humidity of summer.
After finishing off his burger, Noah flipped open a notebook he’d pulled out of his back pocket. “I did the checking you requested and came up with zilch on the kid’s background. None of the Parkers in Lake Avalon have heard of him.”
“Damn. I knew the name he gave me was bogus, but I was hoping it had a family connection.”
“He’s probably a
Spider-Man
fan.”
Spider-Man
fan.”
Logan arched an inquisitive brow. “How do you figure?”
“Peter
Parker
. Teenage boy dealing with the rejection and feelings of inadequacy that go with growing up. Odds are Justin’s first name is for real, though it’s unlikely he’s a closeted superhero.”
Parker
. Teenage boy dealing with the rejection and feelings of inadequacy that go with growing up. Odds are Justin’s first name is for real, though it’s unlikely he’s a closeted superhero.”
Logan smirked. “Or maybe he just likes the sound of Parker.”
Noah sat back and began tilting his half-empty soda can from one side to the other. “You got a vested interest in this kid?”
“You could say.”
“Care to share?”
“Not really.”
“Mind if I make an observation?” Noah asked.
“There’s nothing to worry about here.”
“I don’t know about that. You get tense when you talk about him.”
“Kids living on the street make me tense.”
“It’s more than that. Charlie’s friend AnnaCoreen would say there’s something dark inside you.”
Logan snorted as he tossed his crumpled napkin onto the wrought-iron table. “Please.”
“You haven’t met AnnaCoreen. She knows things.”
“What the hell are you talking about?
“She
knows
things.”
knows
things.”
Logan cocked his head, ready to laugh, until he realized Noah was serious. “You mean, like a psychic? That’s such bullshit.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“No, I don’t think I would. Don’t tell me you buy into that crap.”
Noah said nothing as he drained his Coke, but it was clear that he disagreed.
“Why are we even talking about this?” Logan asked. “I’m just looking out for a homeless teenager I caught Dumpster diving behind the Iguana a couple of weeks ago.”
Noah slipped his notebook back into his pocket. “You didn’t have anyone to take you in, did you?”
Logan stiffened. He shouldn’t have gotten defensive, damn it. He should have let the “there’s something dark inside you” roll off his back. Like a damn duck. But, no, he’d had to let his feathers ruffle, and now he looked like a pitiful jerk. “Just forget it.”
“Does Alex know?”
“There’s nothing to know.”
“She should know. Guy like you has issues to work out. Intimacy issues.”
Logan opened his mouth to tell the man to fuck off when he caught the glint in Noah’s eyes. The bastard was trying his damnedest not to laugh.
Logan let his shoulders relax. “You’ve been rifling through Charlie’s
Cosmo
s, huh?”
Cosmo
s, huh?”
Noah leaned forward and dropped his voice. “I read it for the pictures. Did you know that there’s a position called the Amazing Butterfly?”
CHAPTER NINE
A
re you kidding me?”
re you kidding me?”
Charlie flashed Alex an amused, albeit grim, smile at her reaction to the hot pink shack with its rusted tin roof. “If you’re nice to her, she’ll read your palm for free.”
“Charlie, come on. A beachfront psychic is going to explain this?” Alex glanced down at the bruises and red skin on her wrists. Were the injuries already fading? A fingertip dragged over a particularly purple mark returned an answering twinge that did indeed feel less intense than it had only minutes ago. What the hell?
She started to shake again. She must be dreaming, in a sleep so deep that her subconscious had visited an insanely lucid world, where everything was turned upside down and crazy. Or maybe she was dead. Maybe she’d never recovered from the gunshot and this was hell.
“It’s not.”
Alex jolted. She’d completely lost the thread of conversation. “What?”
“It’s not a dream,” Charlie said.
“What, are you psychic, too?”
“No. I’ve just been there.”
“God, Charlie.
God
.”
God
.”
Charlie craned her neck to look at the rundown shack through the window on Alex’s side of the car. “AnnaCoreen is waiting for us.”
Alex turned her head to see a petite older woman in blue jeans, a blousy white top and flat sandals waving from the sidewalk leading to the shack. She had short springy strawberry blond hair and, even from the car, Alex could see she wore simple, if any, makeup. That woman was a beach psychic? Not the garish character she’d expected.
“Come on,” Charlie said and pushed open the driver’s door.
Alex followed Charlie reluctantly. She knew the polite smile she offered the psychic as they approached couldn’t get any stiffer. This was going to be such a massive waste of time, and all she really wanted to do was lie down and jam a pillow over her head.
Then, as if things couldn’t get any weirder, Charlie shared a warm hug with the faux psychic and brushed a light kiss over one of the older woman’s awesome cheekbones.
“Alex, this is AnnaCoreen Tesch,” Charlie said.
Alex nodded in greeting but kept her hand to herself. No way did she plan to touch anyone else until she knew what the hell was going on.
AnnaCoreen’s lips took on an amused quirk as she looked Alex up and down. “My goodness, but you are gorgeous.”
Alex felt her eyes widen. Okay, not what she was expecting. And
so
beside the point. Somehow, she’d fallen down her very own rabbit hole. Perhaps this was the Queen of Hearts. No, had to be the Mad Hatter. Or maybe Charlie was the Mad Hatter . . . Man, that would suck. The most sane, logical woman on the planet suddenly a crackpot? An
empathic
crackpot.
so
beside the point. Somehow, she’d fallen down her very own rabbit hole. Perhaps this was the Queen of Hearts. No, had to be the Mad Hatter. Or maybe Charlie was the Mad Hatter . . . Man, that would suck. The most sane, logical woman on the planet suddenly a crackpot? An
empathic
crackpot.
AnnaCoreen glanced from Alex to Charlie and back again. “So very obviously sisters, too. Look at the both of you, all that thick dark hair and lovely shades of brown and gold in your eyes. Your Nana must have just wanted to eat you both up when you were youngsters.”
Laughing, Charlie launched into a story. “Nana pretended to capture and eat Alex’s nose once, saying it was the best white chocolate she’d ever had, and Alex screamed bloody murder until she gave it back.”
AnnaCoreen smiled, showing perfect white teeth. “Oh, that’s precious. Truly precious.”
Alex smiled tolerantly. “I hate to be a party pooper, but—”
Charlie cast an apologetic look at the older woman. “She’s not on board yet.”
AnnaCoreen’s grin didn’t falter. “How can she be? She’s been blindsided.”
Alex almost rolled her eyes. Please. This was such bullshit. Whatever was going on with her . . . well, it’d go away. She’d get a good night’s sleep, eat better, do some exercise, and she’d be fine. “Look—”
“I’m afraid there are no miracle cures for empathy, my dear child,” AnnaCoreen said. “Why don’t we go inside, have some tea and talk? You’ll feel better afterward.”
As AnnaCoreen turned, Alex gave Charlie a questioning look.
Charlie shrugged. “She does that sometimes.”
“Does what?” Alex wasn’t willing to concede what she’d been thinking.
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