Twisted Miracles (14 page)

No one moved.

“I said, adjourned.”

There was a soft rustle of clothes and footsteps as people filed out, glancing at each other as they went. Sebastian let the woman down slowly. I took a step back, but she only filed out with the rest of the shadowminds. I thought some of them might’ve given me sympathetic looks, but I was keeping my mind locked down too tightly to read their intent. Jackson and his father exchanged a glance that I was sure accompanied a whole conversation in mindspeak. I rubbed the place on my throat where she’d pressed.

“Are you okay?” Jackson put his hands on my shoulders and ducked down to meet my eyes.

“Yeah.” It came out raspy, and I cleared my throat. “Yeah.” Better.

“Are you sure?”

“I apologize.” The guardian had come up to me. The fire in his eyes made me want to step back. “That is not the way this community usually conducts itself.” He glanced toward the door, and I hoped he didn’t have anything too draconian planned for my attacker.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I think she thought I was trying to attack her.”

“Were you?” He seemed perfectly serious.

“Uh, no.”

He nodded once. “Sebastian.” He held out his hand. I took it and shook, surprised by how warm it was, almost hot. “I take it no one recognized your puller.”

I almost laughed. “I guess not.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more help. Where is it you’re from again?”

“New Orleans.”

“New Orleans.” He started pacing. “Who’s the guardian down there? Someone new? Last I heard it was Eleanor, but that was...” he paused and looked at me, searching my face, “...probably before you were born.”

I blinked. I didn’t know anyone named Eleanor. “I, uh, don’t think we have a—a guardian.”

Sebastian frowned, brows drawing together. “Pity,” he said. “Dangerous.”

I frowned. “We’ve done all right.”

He raised an eyebrow at me and went back to pacing, wings dragging the ground behind him. The tips were picking up dust.

“The closest guardian to you is probably Susannah in Biloxi. You could go to her for assistance, though I’m not sure she’ll have the range to get to the city.”

It was something. It was more than we had. “How do I contact her?”

Sebastian pulled a cell phone out of the pocket of his jeans. He scrolled and tapped for a minute, then went to the council table and wrote an address down on the back of his copy of the agenda. “I can’t guarantee she’ll help you.” He flashed a sudden, unpleasant smile. “We’re territorial.”

I started to ask what he meant, but thought better of it. “Thank you.”

He nodded, and it was clear we were dismissed. Jackson led me out of the bar, back through the concrete tunnel and out of Featherweight’s into the cool night. We walked for a while, and not in the direction of his car.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I didn’t think anything like that would happen.”

“Are they all like that? I mean, does everyone feel that way?”

“No. Janet’s really the only one who’s that fanatical about it. I didn’t even realize she was there until she came at you.”

I wasn’t sure I believed she was the only one. I’d heard the thoughts of the others. “They must’ve known your brother. Did they ever attack him?”

“We kept Adam’s gift pretty quiet. And people who knew...I guess they thought of him as the exception.”

“Did he ever—” I’d been about to ask if he’d ever hurt anyone before I realized it might be a touchy subject. But Jackson heard me anyway.

“No.” He smiled a little. “We caught the gift early. He had time to train before it really got strong.”

“Lucky him.” We’d made it to a block-long park, built against a hill. It was dark out, but there were still at least a dozen people scattered throughout. I suspected most of them were smoking pot. We walked along the perimeter to a bench at the very top where there was a spectacular view of the lit-up city skyline stretched out in front of us. Jackson sat down, and I followed suit.

“So New Orleans doesn’t have a guardian?”

“I didn’t even think they were real.”

He grimaced. “I guess there’s a lot I should’ve told you before tonight.”

“It’s okay. I mean, Lionel used to talk about them, but I guess I always thought they were more like legends. You know, like Zorro or something.”

“Not every city has one, but I guess I assumed...” He shrugged.

“Yeah, well, maybe that’s why we’re in this mess. How do we get our own? Supernatural classifieds?”

He chuckled a little. “I’m surprised one didn’t emerge after Katrina. Supposedly we got Sebastian after the 1906 quake.”

“What, they like, grow out of disasters?”

Jackson rocked his head back and forth. “Sort of. More like big disasters tend to bring out the potentials. They have to anchor in a place for life, you know. Easier to make the commitment if the place you love just got destroyed.”

I nodded. When Katrina hit, that feeling of helplessness was powerful. “I wonder why no one stepped up.”

Jackson shrugged. “If it’s been a long time, maybe there’s no one close enough to help train a potential.”

We stared at the city for a while in silence, me thinking of how different my life would have been if I’d been born somewhere like San Francisco, with two converter parents who knew exactly what I was. Would I have gotten the training I needed? Would Andrew still be alive? They were pointless questions, but I couldn’t quell them. At the bottom of the hill by the tennis courts, a bunch of kids climbed the chain-link fence and started skateboarding over the benches along the sides.

“You okay?” Jackson asked. I realized I’d been silent for a long time.

I shrugged and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just thinking about how different things would have been for me. You know—if I hadn’t lost my parents.”

To my surprise, Jackson shook his head. “You never know. There’s no guarantee they would have known what you are.”

“It’s not hereditary?”

“It’s hereditary, it’s just not that simple.”

Janet’s biting hatred came back to me. Her fear. I thought of Mina and her ruined powers, of all the times I could’ve done the same thing to a dozen different people—Shane, Lionel, girlfriends from high school sleepovers. Mary Ellen.

“Cass.” He shifted closer and took one of my hands. “If you really let yourself use your gift—you’d be amazed.” There was awe and caution in his voice. He followed my gaze out over the city, and then turned to face me again. “Don’t you want to see what you could accomplish, if you let yourself?” His mind brushed against mine, gentle and questioning, asking to be let in.

“I’ve seen already.”

“You haven’t. You haven’t even begun.” The touch of his mind was still there, and I yielded, just a little. It was a warm sensation, like clean sheets just out of the dryer, and I found myself opening up to him, drawn in by the smooth, comfortable feel of him. He hadn’t moved any closer, but in another moment I knew he would. I’d be a fool not to see where this was heading. I leaned back.

“I should drive you home.” He stood up. I nodded, not sure whether I was relieved or disappointed, and we walked back down the hill to his car. He unlocked it from the passenger side to let me in.

“I’m going to learn how to control this,” I said.

“I meant to tell you before. I found a new practice spot for you, up in the Trinity Alps. It’s pretty deserted this time of year.”

“Good.” Maybe it would help. I hoped so. Because my only alternative was to live the rest of my life in isolation.

Chapter Thirteen

Jackson couldn’t have picked a better place to practice using deadly telekinetic powers.

We made camp in a meadow near Grizzly Lake, and the place was completely deserted. Redwoods towered around us and the white-capped Trinity Alps peeked through the branches. The ground was rocky, but we’d found a reasonably level spot to pitch the tent. Jackson only had one, but it was big, so we’d have plenty of personal space, and he’d brought his spare sleeping bag for me to borrow. Just enough light remained for us to make a quick dinner out of canned soup, so we ate and then strung up our provisions in bear canisters.

“So, you want to get some rest, start fresh tomorrow?” Jackson banked the fire with loose earth and passed me a bottle of water.

I sipped gratefully. “No. No, I’d rather try now. I think it’s probably better to be tired.” I stretched. “I have less energy to spend mentally wandering.”

“Good point.” He smiled crookedly and dug into his pack. He’d brought along an inflatable raft, and we used a bicycle pump to blow it up. It was dark blue and said RiverMania! on the side.

“I need something heavier than this.” I lifted up the raft with my pinkie. “It’s not much of a challenge.”

Jackson laughed. “Of course.” He walked off into the wooded area to the north. A few moments later, a huge fallen tree came rolling toward me, Jackson trotting behind it. It slid down the rocky shore and into the water, and I reached out mentally to feel it, getting a sense for its weight. It must have been four feet across and four hundred pounds.

“Perfect,” I said, and I walked down to the edge of the lake.

Jackson brought the raft and held it steady while I climbed in. I dipped a finger into the water and found it was colder than I’d expected. “I’d better not fall in,” I said, and he chuckled.

It took me ten minutes to push myself and the log to the center of the lake. It was almost full dark by then, the faint remains of the sun tingeing the sky to the west. There were no lights for miles around, and the stars were so clear, it was as if I were on a different planet, somewhere that had never heard of electricity. The hazy tail of the Milky Way cut across the sky like gauze over black velvet.

I sent a focused thought to Jackson. “
I’m ready.
” He didn’t reply in words, but I sensed his acknowledgement, as though he was telling me to go ahead.

The air around me was chilly, and there was a steady breeze coming from the west, but even though the water was cold, it wasn’t frozen. Fish rested in the still water deep beneath me and waterbirds nested in the low, spiky grass on the opposite shore. I reached out, trying to avoid the animals and pull in the diversity of inanimate energy around me.

Nothing happened.

I tried again. And again, and again, all night long. My raft drifted closer to the shore, where Jackson had gotten the campfire going again. He was sitting on a fabric folding chair, one leg crossed over his knee, watching me. Mars shone faint and red on the horizon.

I should have known this would be difficult, but part of me had hoped that what had held me back before was the fear of discovery. I made a frustrated sound in my throat and reached out fast, trying to pull without thinking, but it was like pedaling a bike in low gear. I could still sense everything around me, full of life and potential, but none of it felt
available.

Then the pull found Jackson.

He was hundreds of yards away, but I could feel him breathing. His body was warm and strong and full of energy, exactly the kind of energy I needed. Pulling from him was like eating shelled pecans out of a metal tin, compared to cracking open each one and picking out the meat with my fingernails. Strength slipped out of him, into me, filling me up. It was incredible—I could lift anything. Do anything. The log rose out of the water and Jackson’s heartbeat slowed down, and I realized too late what was happening.

“No!” I screamed, and I stood up without thinking and fell off the raft.

The shock of the cold water snapped me out of the pull, and the log hit behind me with a huge splash. On shore, Jackson had gotten up so fast he’d knocked his chair over. He sprinted for the lake, taking off his jacket as he ran, but I met him before he got in past his knees.

“Are you okay?” I struggled to my feet, breathless. He’d kicked up a lot of mud, and the water was cloudy around him.

“Me? Are
you
okay?”

“I’m fine!” I ran dripping hands over his arms like I could tell if I’d hurt him. “Are they working? Are your powers still working?”

“
I’m fine
,
Cass.
I’m fine.
” His mental voice, smooth and calm, flooded me with relief. He lifted a perfectly round sphere of water from the lake and let it splash back down.

I nearly sank to my knees, but Jackson held me up by my elbows. “I felt you,” I said. “I pulled from you. It was so easy.”

In front of us, a dead fish surfaced in the shallows.

“It’s okay, everything’s okay.” He plucked at the dripping fabric of my sweater while he stared at the fish. “Come to the fire. You’ve got to get out of these wet clothes.”

He was right—I was shivering. I let him help me up the shore and lead me to the campfire. He went into the tent while I shucked off my sodden clothes, and I stood naked in front of the fire until I was warm again. When I stopped shivering, I pulled on dry clothes and went into the tent. It was warm inside, and I knew Jackson must have been heating it up.

“This is too dangerous,” I said as I unrolled my borrowed sleeping bag. Jackson was already cocooned in his. “I think you should be farther away while I’m practicing. At least until I learn how to control where I’m pulling from.”

“Cass, I’m fine. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll move farther back.”

“Like, all the way to the parking lot.”

“Whatever you want. But I don’t want to be too far away, in case something happens to you.”

I reached over and shut off the lantern. “Better me than you.”

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, the light was still new and the air felt fresh and wet and clean. Jackson made a surprisingly good breakfast—scrambled eggs and bacon over the fire, plus apples and pears he cut up with a pocketknife. When he suggested we spend the day hiking, I agreed. I wanted to be physically tired again by evening.

That night, as soon as it grew dark, we headed back to the lake. Jackson walked off into the woods surrounding the campsite, and I paddled out to the center of the lake with the log. I spent a long time sitting there, watching the stars, using my powers only to warm the air around me. When I was ready, I reached out and searched for Jackson, relieved when I couldn’t feel his presence. He must have gotten out of range.