A Gift of Wings (33 page)

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, sliding into the seat. “They’ve both worked pretty well for me.”

He chuckled as he closed the door and moved around the car to take his place behind the wheel.

The band was playing at Wild Hare in Wicker Park, and the drive didn’t last long enough for Lucky. The closer they got to their destination, the more knots she could feel in her stomach. As anxious as she was to see both her cousin and her best friend, she was also dreading the first encounter with each of them. Not that Josh suspected anything; she just wasn’t comfortable knowing how much of the truth had been taken from him. Mo, on the other hand…. Lucky really wanted to clear the air with her, and she was hoping her friend would be more amenable to that tonight than she had been in their morning telephone conversation.

As she followed Aidan into the bar, she pressed a hand to her stomach and took a deep breath. Her anxiety was not alleviated when she found that neither Josh nor Mo had yet arrived. As worried as she was about seeing them, she also wanted to get that first encounter over with.

She managed to navigate the small talk that ensued when Aidan re-introduced her to the band members who were present; then she did her best to stay out of the way while they got set up. A couple of times someone called on her to help place or tape cords, but most of the time she just stood to the side and watched, finally taking a seat at the table at the front that had been staked out for the friends of the band. Soon after she was seated, a waitress stopped at the table to ask if she’d like a drink while she waited for her friends. Lucky ordered a Coke, if only to have something to hold on to.

She had just taken her first sip of the beverage when she saw Mo come in with Eric. He hurried to the stage, apologizing for being late, and dived into the setup activities. Mo stopped when she saw Lucky, and the action caused Lucky’s heart to plummet. She met her friend’s eyes across the room and offered a shaky smile and a small wave. Mo didn’t smile back, but she did walk slowly over to take the seat beside Lucky. She was wearing a hot pink sweater and a scarf of turquoise and yellow stripes. The scarf’s turquoise stripes matched her suede boots. It was a combination Lucky would never have thought to put together, but on Mo it worked.

“You look great,” she said.

“So do you,” replied Mo, in a reserved manner so unlike her usual ebullience that Lucky worried she would never be able to patch things up with her. Then, with a small twinkle in her eye, she added, “Nice scarf.”

Lucky smiled, the ache in her chest easing. “Yeah,” she said. “My best friend gave it to me.”

“She has good taste, that friend of yours.” Lucky could see the corners of Mo’s mouth fighting to turn upward.

“Yeah, she does,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

At her words, Mo threw her arms around Lucky and gave her a huge hug. “I can’t stay mad at you. It’s like being mad at my own feet because they made me trip and fall.”

Tears of relief filled Lucky’s eyes as she laughed and returned her friend’s hug. “I’m glad you can’t stay mad at me. And I really am sorry about yesterday. I’ve been miserable all day about hurting you.”

“Good,” Mo said, releasing her. “’Cause I was miserable all day yesterday. Now, we’re even.” Her smile took most of the sting out of the words.

Lucky wanted to promise Mo that such a thing wouldn’t happen again. But given the changes in her life, she didn’t know that she could do so in all honesty. Instead, she gave her friend her warmest smile and said, “Thanks, Mo. I don’t deserve you.”

“No, you don’t,” Mo said airily, “but then, no one does.”

“Not even me?” asked Eric, who had come up to the table just as she was speaking.

Mo grinned at him. “Especially not you.”

“Then I’m a very lucky man,” he said, leaning down to drop a light kiss on her cheek. “I’m going to get a drink. You want anything?”

Glancing at Lucky’s glass, Mo requested a Coke as well.

“One Coca-Cola, coming up,” Eric said as he departed.

“Things seem to be going well with him,” Lucky commented. That was enough to keep them chatting until Eric returned, juggling two Cokes and baskets of pretzels and popcorn that he had balanced on his arms.

“Give me those before you drop them,” Mo said, laughing. She scooped the baskets off his arms and placed them on the table before taking the Coke he held out to her.

“Thanks.” He dropped another kiss on her cheek and then hurried back to the stage.

“I wonder where Josh and Ben are,” Lucky said, more than a little worried that they hadn’t arrived yet.

Then, as if her words had conjured them, the two appeared in the doorway. Ben hurried toward the stage, while Josh made his way over to Lucky and Mo. Lucky frowned as he sat down in a chair across the table from them, holding on to the chair for support as he lowered himself into it.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine, just tired.” He brushed off her concern. “Ben and I played racquetball this afternoon, and I guess I’m not in as good a shape as I thought I was.”

“Maybe you’re coming down with something,” Mo offered. “You should take it easy for the next day or so—and drink lots of juice and eat chicken soup.”

Or maybe he wasn’t recovered from the Dark toxin after all. Juice and chicken soup probably wouldn’t help with that. Lucky frowned again. Zeke and Sambethe had assured her he would be fine—and they should know. She corralled her thoughts as the other chairs at the table began to fill and introductions were made.

A few minutes later, Aidan approached the table.
It isn’t fair,
Lucky thought,
for anyone to be so impossibly handsome.
The light blue of his shirt enhanced the color of his eyes, making them look even bluer than normal.

“We’re about to get started,” he said. “Everyone doing alright here?”

They all nodded, and a few made teasing remarks to the effect that it was about time they got the music going.

Aidan stepped closer to Lucky. “Let me know what it’s like for you this time,” he whispered in her ear, before planting a soft kiss beside her mouth.

The others hooted and whistled, causing Lucky to blush to the roots of her hair. Aidan gave her shoulder a squeeze and headed for the stage.

Lucky glanced at Josh to see how he’d reacted to Aidan kissing her. He seemed distracted, almost as if he hadn’t even noticed, and she thought he was looking a little pale. He was definitely not okay.

Mo leaned toward her. “Looks like things are going well with him, too.”

Lucky frowned. “With Josh? No, I don’t think—”

“Not Josh, silly,” Mo laughed. “With Aidan. You and Aidan.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess they are,” Lucky said, her attention divided between Mo and her concern for her cousin.

“You guess? Honey, given the very public nature of that little display of affection, I think you can move beyond guesswork. Lucky, are you listening to me at all?”

“What?” Lucky tore her gaze away from her cousin and focused on her friend. “I’m sorry, Mo. I’m just worried about Josh. He’s… not acting like himself. I really don’t think he’s well.”

“I’m sure he’s just tired, like he said, and maybe coming down with a cold or something.” Mo reassured her. “He’s a big boy, Lucky. He wouldn’t be here if he felt all that bad.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Lucky said, but she had her doubts. Josh didn’t remember what had happened to him. He didn’t know that he might need to worry about something more dangerous than a rhinovirus. And she could do nothing to warn him. So much for her special powers. So far, they’d brought mostly trouble.

As Aidan broke into the haunting
a cappella
opening of the first song, Lucky acknowledged that at least one good thing had come from her powers—or from the fact of her possessing them: her budding relationship with him. She wouldn’t have gotten to know him otherwise. Casting a last worried glance at her cousin before turning her full attention to the stage, she squashed the superstitious voice that wondered if the acquisition of a new relationship might have to be balanced by the loss of an old one.

CHAPTER 22

Listening to Aidan’s voice grow louder and more powerful, increasing in volume so as to stand up against the addition of the band’s instruments, Lucky realized she was more than just curious about how that voice would affect her tonight. She also
wanted
to get caught up in it,
wanted
it to take her away from her uncomfortable thoughts and fears. The opening song was about frustrated love, unrequited longing, unfulfilled desire—not the most positive of emotions. Still, she wondered what it would be like to be swept up in Aidan’s voice as he sang about them. Closing her eyes, she located what she was coming to think of as her inner control room and chose just one aspect of her abilities, the one that would enable her to see what she heard; then, she opened her eyes.

Aidan’s voice filled the room like colored smoke. It was muted blues and grays, shot through with rich reds and purples, thin in places like a light silk veil and thick in others, like satin or velvet. She let the textures in too, and suddenly she could feel the silk beneath her fingertips, the satin against her cheek—but only in the briefest of touches, each teasing feather-stroke evoking the desire for more. A velvety ribbon of sound wrapped itself around her throat and then snaked down over her heart before slipping away, and she almost reached out to catch it, so great was her need to hold it close. She caught her breath and looked toward the stage.

Aidan was looking at her, directing all the longing and unrequited passion of the song toward her. As her eyes met his, she felt him add his Gift to her powers, and she gasped. She could almost, but not quite, feel his arms around her, almost, but not quite, feel his breath on her cheek. It was as if he were mere millimeters from her, and yet she could never close the distance, could never complete the touch. She could hear the words of the song, the timbre of his voice, see its colors, and even experience its textures in those brief, tantalizing moments, but she wanted more. She wanted to grab on to all of it, to clasp it close to her, to hold
him
close to her—his voice, his body, his heart, his soul, all of him. But she knew she never ever could, because no matter how near he seemed, he was completely out of reach.

Just as she was beginning to wonder if one could actually die from frustrated longing, the song ended. Aidan’s voice faded away, his Gift losing its hold on her, and the intense feelings that had filled her drained away as well. Focusing on her own abilities, she watched the smoky tendrils of sound as they diminished and drifted into the corners of the room. Taking advantage of the break afforded by the crowd’s applause, she sought Aidan’s eyes once again. In answer to the silent question posed by his raised eyebrow, she mouthed the word “Wow.” The corners of his mouth curved upward. Then he turned away from her and directed his attention to the general audience.

Well, that was interesting,
Lucky thought. She had wanted to be swept away, but she hadn’t been prepared for the intensity of the experience. She felt both emotionally drained and strangely energized. She wanted to try the experiment again, but she decided she was going to give herself a song or two to recover.

For the rest of the set, she experimented with her Sensitive abilities, drawing first on one aspect of her powers and then another. With a little effort, she found she could even manage to control her powers while responding to the occasional comment from Mo or Josh. On the one hand, she supposed her experimentation distracted her from the show somewhat, but on the other, it offered her a deeper—if strange and synesthetic—experience of it. The set was almost over before she realized that she hadn’t felt Aidan’s Gift after that first song—and she knew he had deliberately used it then. She wondered if the reason she was no longer drawing his power as she had at the last show was because she was now aware of and could control her own abilities.

The set ended and a few of the band members, including Ben, stopped by the table to see if anyone there needed a refill. Commenting that she could use another Coke, Lucky offered to accompany Ben to the bar and help carry the drinks back to the table. She was grateful for the opportunity to talk to him apart from Josh for a few minutes. When she noted that Josh didn’t seem like himself, Ben agreed. He said Josh had started feeling weak and tired during their afternoon racquetball game, and his symptoms had worsened as the day progressed. Although he also remarked that it was probably just a cold or the flu, Ben seemed to share Lucky’s worry.

She didn’t get a chance to talk to Aidan during the break. When she and Ben made it back to the table, he and the guitarist were working with the sound guy to make some adjustments. Ben had only a few minutes to down what he could of his beer and chat with Josh and his friends before he and the rest of the band returned to the stage.

Icarus was halfway through the second song of their second set when Lucky sensed a non-human presence in the room. She couldn’t tell which of her heightened senses had tipped her off. And while she couldn’t be sure this new presence provided a threat, the jangling of her nerve endings didn’t bode well. Shifting more fully into Sensitive mode, she scanned the room, searching for the source of her odd discomfort.