Brush of Shade (12 page)

“Hold on,” I
said, shrugging out of Shade’s light restraint and backing away. “You speak
like there is a difference. Like the name Whisperer implies something that is
not human. That’s just a weird way of speaking to keep an old culture alive.
You don’t honestly believe that Whisperers and humans are different, do you?
What sort of twisted cult is this?” I demanded my voice angry and confused. I
rounded on my aunt, stepping onto the strip of carpet behind the pulpit. “Nice,
tell the unstable girl a bizarre tale that she’ll repeat. A guaranteed plan to
get me locked up and out of your way. Do you hate me that much?”

“Ethan should’ve
done his duty and prepared his daughter,” an angry male voice echoed coldly
from the back of the meeting room. “This is what will lead us? This quivering,
frail being you would put in a position to safeguard us?”

I watched
Shadow, standing there in the darkness at the edge of the door. His name fit.

“Go home, Shadow.
We’re handling this,” Shade ordered without so much as turning to face his
brother.

“Doing an excellent job of it too.
Look at her face; we’ve
no place in her limited mind. She thinks were monsters!” Shadow’s unfounded
accusations drew a rumble of protest from his brother. Ignoring the outburst,
Shadow advanced into the room, stopping next to the back pew. “No wonder Ethan
kept her away. She’s a pitiful reflection of what was once a proud lineage.
I’ll prove it.
O-liv-
i
-a.
O-liv-
i
-a, come to me.”

Shadow’s
enticing,
sing-song voice robbed me of my will while drawing
me to its owner on a trail of promises. It blotted out sensations, depriving me
of connections to the physical world.

“Shadow!”

A thunderclap
punctuated Shade’s warning. I clasped my hands over my ears and watched, mouth
slack as the artwork nearest Shadow swung on its hook.

“Just testing.”
Shadow said with little concern as echoing
rumbles chased about the room.

Freed from the
compulsion, I drew my foot back and spun towards Shade, counting on him for a
rational explanation. A breeze ruffled my neck. My head pivoted as though I was
moving in slow motion. The brothers stood nose-to-nose with Shade gesturing
wildly, backing his twin towards the doors.

“Press Olivia
again and I will retaliate,” Shade threatened.

A low rumble of
an approaching storm resounded up the length of the chamber from the double
doors to the carvings behind the pulpit. Wind swooped and scattered my hair
into my face. The part of me clinging to normal wanted a window to have been
left open. Lemon-fresh air filled each ragged breath, forcing me to face the
truth that we were under ground.

 “I did it
for us,” Shadow replied, unrepentant.

Shade pointed to
the doors.
“Us?
Don’t include me in this reprehensible
behavior.”

“Tell me you
haven’t been burning to try? Deep down, you’re relieved that I’ve saved you
from compromising your overly rigid values. Now that I’ve demonstrated how
pitifully easy she is to breach, tell me that nothing can change. Whatever
greatness once resided in the Pepperdine line has been watered down with the
passage of generations. Look at her quaking. You would follow that? You would
have the clan acquiesce to her!”

“Careful,
brother,” Shade cautioned.

Shadow shook his
head. “I told you she’s not resilient. We could settle this now with a simple
change over. I guarantee you that she’ll fold. What more proof do you need?”

 Shade
shifted forward, forcing his twin to lean back. “Try it.”

Shadow grimaced,
although I could not tell from what. He glared in my direction. The hair on my
arms stood on end. I tried to pass it off as a cool breeze from a vent. Beneath
the soles of my feet, I felt a tremor. Thunder cracked its sound reverberating
inside my skull. I jumped and clutched my head, certain the chamber was
collapsing.

 
“Shade.
Shadow, stop this,” Aunt Claire ordered. “Calm
yourselves. Remember where we are. This is a place of peace. Must I remind a
Grisland
to honor the legacy?”

Shadow stumbled
backwards. Shade grabbed his arm and shoved him across the threshold. “Stay out
of this.”

“Don’t say I
didn’t give you and the clan a chance when everything comes crashing down.
Claire Pepperdine, let this be on your head as well,” Shadow shouted.

The doors
slammed against the walls and whipped back together. I barely noticed. My eyes
were fixed upon Shade’s livid expression as he strode purposefully back to the
dais and to my side.

“I think Olivia
has had enough this morning,” Aunt Claire said, hurrying to join us.

Shade’s quelling
look stopped her cold in the middle of the platform. Icebergs had broken
through the surface of ice-crusted seas and were massing along the edges of his
irises. “I just stood in conflict with my twin. Don’t fail me.”

His lips had
hardly moved, but I felt each word propelled out of his mouth. They knocked
against my shoulders as if they had shape and substance. I leaned away from his
ferociousness. Where was the Shade who’d been so kind to me at the church?
Where was the man who had teased Hattie and me in the shop until I laughed so
hard that I knew it was possible to get through an hour without feeling pain?
Moisture beaded at the corner of my eyes, and still he glared down at me as
though he, like his twin, found me inadequate in every way.

“Shade, control
yourself,” my aunt yelled. “This isn’t Olivia’s doing.”

I tore my gaze
away from Shade’s to search out my aunt’s for answers. Expecting more of her
conflict avoidance responses, I cringed, nearly undone by her seething anger.

Her eyes were
locked onto Shade’s. “My niece will have time to adjust, no matter what your
brother or anyone else says. If you raise voice to her again, I will bar you
from her presence. Do not think to test the limits I set forth.”

Like he had done
to his twin, Shade pressed Aunt Claire back, towering over her. Fisted hands
shook at his sides. I tried to go to my aunt, but I collided with nothing . . .
a wall of air? I stumbled back against the pulpit, my thoughts spinning as were
the cold-air currents swirling about the room, raising goose bumps along my
arms.

“Stop!”
I yelled not even certain that what I was
experiencing was real.

Shade snapped
around. I squeaked and ducked around the pulpit on mushy legs.

Aunt Claire put
a hand on his shoulder and said, sounding troubled, “Maybe you should leave.”

“Not with this
impression tainting her opinion. Olivia, don’t tremble,” he said harshly. His
face scrunched up. He formed a steeple with his fingers and tapped it against
his furrowed brow. After several deep breaths, he lowered his hands and began
to speak again in a calm and respectful voice. “It would seem that I’m
constantly telling you that you’re not crazy; I expect you find little comfort
in my words. Unlike most folks, my bite is far worse than my temper. But I
swear it will never be unleashed upon either of you. Please believe me,
Olivia.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “It would appear that even I’m not
above foolish, emotional displays fueled by the clans’ need to feel secure.” He
broke off and stared towards the door.

Aunt Claire
touched his arm. “He’ll come around.”

“I’m used to us
being a united front. Ladies, forgive my reprehensible behavior and forgive
Shad’s as well. Forgive him first for he hasn’t the benefit of the truth to
which I’ve been privy,” he said earnestly. Puffs of warmed air tapped my chin.
“Olivia, I would have your understanding and in time your acceptance.”

His desperation
confused me more. Sane people didn’t believe in— Bang! The doors to the chamber
crashed open. Instinctively I turned.

“His face!”
I screamed. Ghostly features dissolved. The
triangle of tan skin ended at the top of the tidy collar of Shadow’s blue polo
shirt. A rush of wind knocked me back, followed by the sound of enraged male
voices rolling from one end of the chamber to the other.

The door to my
room squeaked as it eased open. “Wow, you could open your own carnival booth.
You must have over a hundred stuffed animals in that pile,” Trent said,
speaking just above a whisper as though he wasn’t sure of the reaction he was
going to get. When I didn’t respond, he shrugged out of his varsity jacket and
strolled across the floor, scooping up a spotted puppy with a heart in its
mouth as it rolled off the top.

I flipped off
the lid of the box next to me.
“Three hundred sixty-two
actually.
My folks had a lot of friends from every corner of the globe.
Aunt Claire donated the larger ones to the children’s ward and the rest were
boxed up and mailed here.” My voice faded as Trent squeezed in between me and
the closet door, causing a small avalanche of toys.

“I heard you had
a hard morning and thought you could use a friend.”

“Word spreads
fast in a small town.” Nothing about his attitude indicated that he thought I
was ready for the loony bin. I breathed easier.

“Freaking weird
around here,” he said, while balancing the dog on the top of the pile.

My mouth fell
open. The stuffed koala bear I’d just picked up dangled from limp fingers.

“Hard to believe
postcard perfect Spring Valley harbors dark secrets, well not exactly dark
secrets. But as weirdness goes, the mercury gushes clear off the scale, know
what I mean? Not the sort of thing you needed right now so soon after your
parents’ deaths. We get that. Nobody wants to rush you.”

It was my turn
to stare at him, to search his face carefully for signs that he was just
playing along with my dementia. I’d even settle for an elaborate joke.

“I tried to get
them to let me tell you. Kind of peer to peer, but your aunt was dead set
against you knowing. If it hadn’t been for the storm and you getting sick,
you’d have stayed in the dark about things until you were ready. Folks would’ve
been impatient, but they’d have done it for you.”

“You believe in
. . .” I couldn’t even bring myself to put it into words.

“Kind of hard
not to when you’re raised around it and you’re a descendant of the human branch
of the Ireland clan. Our house is steeped in lore and tradition. Plus my dad is
an elder, so I’ve gotten plenty of lessons on duty. Bet you didn’t know that
I’ve envied you for years, well not the latest part. Current events have changed
my mind. I’d have to say it’s definitely easier to have grown up with the
knowledge than have it thrust into your face, so to speak.”

Memories of
Shadow’s face dissolving into nothingness still stole my breath. I clutched the
koala bear to my chest, stroking the fuzzy fur surrounding its hard, plastic
nose.

“I’m sorry.
Me and my big mouth.”
He tilted his head to the side to get
a look at my face. “You look like you could jump out of your skin. I can call
your aunt?”

I shook my head,
keeping my eyes firmly fixed on the pile of toys. I wished I was five years old
again and living on the other side of the globe. “What was there to envy?” I
asked in a small voice, delaying the hard questions.

“You’ve seen the
world. You didn’t grow up monitoring your reactions to comments, stories,
movies, etc. You just got to be and think like everyday folks.”

His easygoing
demeanor—unlike the charged atmosphere earlier in my basement—helped to uncoil
the knot in my stomach. Maybe I could handle this. “Is it so bad?”

“It’s normal to
me, as strange as that sounds right now.” He slipped an arm around my shoulder
and tucked me against his side. “Things are sure stirred up. Everyone is pretty
upset with Shad. I mean, no way were you ready for a change over. Talk about cruel.
His clan is so fired up that he’s staying at our compound. Folks are running a
step or two behind panic.”

“Why?”

He stared at me,
astonishment written across his face. “You have to ask? Maybe Shad was right
about you being too removed from us to think of the Whisperers as anything but
creatures.”

“That’s not
helpful or fair. I don’t even know what a Whisperer is or does or . . . nobody
has told me anything specific. Don’t tell my aunt, but after what I saw, a part
of me is still holding on to crazy as the sane option.”

“Way to screw
up, Shad. That certainly explains why Shade wants to tear him from limb to
limb. Hell, I’d get in line for a shot, but that would just earn me another one
of my dad’s lectures on, ‘the value of discourse over fist,’” he said, puffing
out his chest, his expression stern.

My lips
quivered, a smile almost formed. “Not to mention getting you grounded. Then who
would I drag to chick flicks?” 

 “I’m so
sorry; this must be nightmarish for you.”

“There is so
much I don’t know. It feels like I’ve lost my parents all over again. I wish
they were here to talk to about all of this.” 

“The valley
meant everything to your dad.” Trent paused and added after a moment of
silence, “Almost everything. He gave you a different life. Folks can’t figure
out why. Some feel betrayed and others confused. Folks assumed you’d be open
and prepared for your future when your time came. Your status is unheard of. It
has left the clans unsettled.”

I waved my hand
at the pile of toys, one eyebrow raised. “They’re unsettled? They live here.”

“Some of their
feelings towards your dad are spilling over onto you. Ignore them. Your aunt
and Shade,” he said, saying Shade’s name as though he had to drag it out, “have
been trying to calm the situation. For the most part, folks around here feel
real terrible about what you’ve been going through and are truly glad to have
you here. They want to help you get better and stronger.”

I thought of
Shadow’s disappearing head and shivered. How many felt like him impatient and resentful?
“I don’t think I can do this warden thing. That’s what Shadow wanted to know,
right? What exactly do the clans want with me?”

“Don’t say it
like
you’re
on the dinner menu. You’re the warden, or
you will be in the future. Olivia, you’re beloved.”

“I’m insane.”

He laughed.
“Then move over. We’ve got to crowd a valley’s worth of folks in here. Was that
a smile?
Half of one?
I’ll take that. Come on, let’s
go do something.”

“I don’t think
Aunt Claire will let me.”

“You’re not a
prisoner. The holidays are almost here. Tell her you’ve got shopping to do.
We’ll browse the shops along Main Street.”

“You’ll browse?”

“That’s not my
thing. I’m your designated bag holder and errand boy.”

“What’s an
errand boy’s job description?”

“It’s a lengthy
list. I’m tall, so I dig to the back of shelves that you can’t reach. I flirt
with Mrs. Jenkins at the Emporium, so we can get an extra dollop of whip cream
on our hot chocolate. You laugh?” He cracked a grin. “Trust me, it’s an
important assignment. I’m wide, so I can clear a path through the crowds. No
pushing and shoving for my lady. Plus, I know the guy who drives the carriage
up and down Main Street. We won’t have to wait in line.”

“Tempting,” I
said.

“Do I still hear
a
but
?”

“Aunt Claire.”

“If I can
convince her, will you go with me? Please?”

“I’m afraid.”
There I finally admitted it. Trent continued to give me his earnest, puppy dog
look. Did this guy really not care that I was a mess? “I need answers and time
to sort this all out. My head is spinning.”

“Answers are your
aunt’s department.”

“But—”

“Sorry, as my
father reminded me, I’m a friend, not an elder. Don’t look scared. You know the
worst thanks to Shad. They’re good folks.
Ease into this.
In the meantime, you’ve serious shopping hours to make up for.”

He stood, shoved
a clear path through the toys, and then bowed from the waist.
“Errand boy at your service, my lady.”
His hands slid around
my waist with his fingertips nearly touching in the back. Once I was steady on
my feet with my crutch in hand, he kissed my cheek. Grinning broadly and with
his eyes sparkling full of mischief, he said, “I forgot to tell you one very
important duty that’s particular to this errand boy. I’ve already scoped out
all the shops that have hung mistletoe.”

The quaint
downtown garbed in its holiday finest was everything I’d hoped for when I
dreamed of a place to call home. Strands of twinkling lights edged the
buildings, coated the trees, and spiraled around the roof of the bandstand.
Streetlights wound with garland displayed holiday banners decorated with
wreaths and bells. Themed trees decorated store windows for the annual Best
Dressed Tree Contest.

Despite the
festive air, I couldn’t make myself climb out of the safety of Trent’s truck.
Every time someone walked by, I checked the lock on the door and breathed hard
enough to fog up my window. After the carolers strolled past our parking spot a
second time, Trent reached for the ignition.

“Wait. Just a
couple more minutes,” I said, putting out a hand to stop him. He glanced down
at my right boot tapping the underside of the dash and grimaced. “Sorry.” I
uncrossed my legs. “Freaking weird is an understatement.”

 “I thought
getting you out would help, but this was too soon. We can try again tomorrow.”

 
“Does everyone in town know about, them?”
I couldn’t bring
myself to say more. It was just too normal out there. Moms and toddlers were
lined up to see Santa and to pet a reindeer. Shoppers were smiling and dropping
coins into the Salvation Army’s kettle. Small town America stuff and I was on
the verge of a panic attack.

“At first
everyone knew, then when civilization encroached and especially after we landed
on the tourist radar, the council enacted stricter laws limiting the knowledge
of the Whisperers to protect their existence. Think of it as need to know.
Unless a human is an elder’s heir like me, or part of a dual species family,
knowledge is disseminated based on the situation as judged by the individual
clans.

“Dual species?”
I stammered. “You mean marriage?”

“It’s not
unheard of in a tight knit community especially since the Whisperers don’t move
away.
More weirdness, sorry.”

 “They just
live and work like normal people?” I said in a high pitched voice that didn’t
even sound like me.

“Well sure, I
mean they have to earn a living right? Primarily it’s ranching. Generally, the
members prefer living with their clans in communal settlements. It makes it
easier. They don’t have to be so cautious every second of the day. Then there
are those clan folks that prefer to keep to themselves to insure their culture
survives. They spout all this purity rhetoric as if they could survive on their
own in this world. You know how people love to gossip and speculate. It’s no
different in Spring Valley. It’s just that here things really are different
only folks can’t put their finger on the specifics. Those of us in the know are
sworn by age old oaths to absolute secrecy. This goes for you even though
you’ve not taken any oaths yet.”

“You’re okay
with this. I mean you can stroll down the street knowing that—”

He squeezed my
hand. “Take a deep breath. It’s not a big deal.”

My eyes flicked
between holiday shoppers. I had up until recently no idea that Shade was
different. Maybe it wasn’t anything obvious. “How do you tell?”

“It takes more
than casual observation. Otherwise they’d all be locked up in a government lab
by now. They’re taught from an early age to be extremely careful. I’ve grown up
around them. They work on our ranch, so I’ve developed a sort of sense about
them.”

“Could you be
more vague
?”

“Alright, I’ll
tell you something, but if asked, I’ll deny the conversation. Aside from
generally being tall, slender, and blond, you can get a read on them by
checking out their slightly almond shaped eyes. Flecks of white are released,
creating distinctive textures and patterns depending on their emotions, talent,
and skill levels. The use of sunglasses and dark tinted glasses help hide the
condition from the tourist.
If asked, Spring Valley has
reported a significantly higher than average occurrence of individuals with
extreme light sensitivity.
The clinic has gotten grants to study this
genetic trend. See, with the right precautions it’s possible to hide in plain
sight.”

“Great, now I’m
going to be nervous anytime someone wearing sunglasses strolls by,” I said,
keeping my voice down when a couple passing the truck couldn’t take their eyes
off of me. How had I missed all the staring? “Let’s try something less
unsettling. How many clans are there?” I asked not sure if I wanted to know or
if it mattered. No doubt tomorrow I’d wake up in a padded cell, and this
would’ve turned out to be an intense hallucination.

“Two full clans,
the
Pepperdines
being one, came over along with five
partial clans and a group of nonaligned folks. The
Pepperdines
and the
Cassidys
made up the largest contingents.”
His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “Your face is whiter than the snow.
Please, let me take you home.”

“So Aunt Claire can go on as if everything is perfectly fine.
I don’t think so. Tell me something useful about being the warden.”

“I’m not
supposed to.” He rubbed the back of his neck and groaned. “You’re killing me
here. I hate seeing you work yourself into a state over nothing. Being warden
is no big deal. The Elders Council handles most of the day-to-day stuff. Think
of the position like an ambassador’s job. Spring Valley recently celebrated its
bicentennial. Everything major was settled ages ago. That’s probably why your
dad stayed with the State Department. But I wouldn’t pack your bags just yet.
The people want you to get . . . a sense of them.”