Brush of Shade (16 page)

Slowly, as
though waking from a sound sleep, both Shade and my aunt drew their hands
apart, their expressions unfocused. Shade stretched his arms over his head and
let out a slow breath. “I’m honored by your sharing,” he said sincerely. “I
don’t envy you in your new journey.”

His gaze flicked
across my face. I caught the hint of frustration behind his incredible eyes. No
doubt much of my aunt’s concerns centered around raising a teenager who wasn’t
coping well with life in general let alone this strange new world. It bothered
me having Shade think less of me. Prepared for rejection, the knot in my stomach
cinched tighter.

Aunt Claire gave
me a quick, reassuring hug. “See there’s nothing to be frightened of. It takes
practice, patience, and the will to allow it to happen for a successful link to
be established.”

I heard the
doubt in her voice. She didn’t think I would be able to do this. Alright, so I
had issues, but who didn’t these days. Granted my issues were more intense than
worrying about grades or getting a date to prom.

 Shade
nodded. “No rush. Our joining can wait until you’re not feeling pressured.”

 “But the
council will be upset. They’ll pressure Aunt Claire,” I replied.

The signed
document was gathered up and rapped against the tabletop. Aunt Claire’s
tight-lipped smile thinned measurably as she slid the paper back into the
manila envelope. “Then I’ll just remind them of the authority granted to me by
the terms of this document.”

 “As the
warden, you could order me to take the test,” I said, pressing my hands against
my thighs to keep my knees from bouncing. The table shook, I pressed harder.

“Your aunt’s
orders will have no bearing on this matter. If you say no, then I won’t
proceed. She could ask another clan member to take my place,” Shade announced.

I sat up
straighter, a bud of warmth expanding deep in my chest. Shade would openly defy
his warden. I couldn’t understand why my aunt wasn’t upset by this betrayal.
“But that would be wrong. You can’t just choose when to follow orders.”

“I follow the
orders of my warden,” Shade replied without hesitation.

“You . . . wait
a minute. I’m not the warden.”

“You are my
warden. I’ve seen you that way since Daniel died. Don’t frown. Your aunt will
have my backing as well. Think of me as your private guard/adviser. Trust is
the key. If you can’t set your fears aside, our sessions will be a waste of
time.”

“I trust you,” I
answered, already focusing on sessions as in plural and the handy excuse to
spend more time together.

His hands came
together in front of his pursed lips. Not the reaction my vivid fantasy had
constructed. Slowly, the tips of his index fingers tapped against his mouth. He
stared questioningly into my eyes as though he was carrying on an internal
debate in which I was being weighed and measured. I held my breath, knowing
there was little that I could say to sway his decision. I was left to wonder
how much of my aunt’s perspective had colored his opinion of my readiness. Not
that it mattered when he could reflect on my numerous bouts of hysteria.
Smiling, confident Daniel, I was not. After years of waiting, what a disappointment
I’d turned out to be.

“Despite being
thrust into improbable situations, you do trust me,” Shade said, sounding
pleased by that observation. “If it would set your mind at ease, we could wait
to have our introductory lesson until you feel comfortable in Spring Valley?”

“That might be a
very long wait. I haven’t wrapped my mind around all of this yet. I know you
dislike it when I think I’m crazy, but you’ve got to admit that from my
perspective, it’s a legitimate fear. I need something tangible to hold me
together.”

Shade snapped
back a step, his posture rigid as he turned away. The conviction behind his
voice deflated as he spoke, “I thought our run from the Cassidy’s was tangible
enough. You’ve the trust, but not the willingness to open yourself to connect.”

I felt his
response like a kick to the gut. It wasn’t that I’d let the valley down,
although that was part of it. For some reason known only to his ego, my
response had struck him on a personal level, a rejection, so to speak of his
deeds. Denial was pointless when it was impossible for him to truly comprehend
what he’d never faced, readjusting his concept of reality. I glared at his
profile, wishing he’d turn, so I could explain, while on the other hand,
foolishly hoping he’d say I was still his warden.

“The council
should’ve listened to you, Claire. It was unrealistic to expect Olivia to be
receptive when she is burdened by grief. It would’ve been kinder to have left
her in D.C., until she had finished healing and had completed college. The
entire situation has been mishandled. At the moment, all I can suggest is to
convene the Elder’s Council, inform them of your change in status, and then
remind them of Ethan’s arrangement in regards to his daughter’s future. For the
time being, we cut off all contact with this life. A nice endowment should get
Olivia a slot at her old boarding school in England. Once she’s completed
college and has had time to grieve and adjust, only then do we set about
integrating her gently into valley life.”

For the most part,
I’d stopped listening somewhere after the revelation that Aunt Claire had been
pressured to bring me out here. After experiencing Mr. Cassidy’s persuasive
techniques firsthand, I was angered for my grieving aunt. How many council
elders and clan folk had followed Mr. Cassidy’s example? I indulged in a second
or two of well-deserved guilt for the delightful moods that I’d inflicted upon
my poor aunt.

Bits and pieces
of the rest of Shade’s announcement penetrated the listing of my offenses. They
were giving up on me? My chest squeezed. Only minutes ago I’d been complaining
that I had plans for my life. The idea that I wanted any part of this valley
was crazy. If that was true, then why did it feel like I’d been offered a treat
only to have it pulled away at the last second? My insides grew cold at the
thought of leaving. Which world did I want?

“You’d send me
away?” I asked of my aunt, finding it hard to get the words out of a throat
that was closing down.

“Shade’s right.
We had no business thrusting you into valley life completely unprepared. Some
space and time will help you gain perspective. Maybe after college you’ll see
that underneath folks’ anxiety for the future, we’re just a normal town with
normal concerns.”

“You’d send me
away?” I asked again of my aunt, feeling the first beads of moisture in the
corner of my eyes. The knot in my stomach twisted harder.

“Olivia? I don’t
want you to go. You understand that, right?”

“In the
hospital, you said it was just the two of us. That we’d always have each other’s
shoulders to cry on. But now that you’re certain that I’m still broken, you’d
send me away,” I said, hating the fact that I cried so easily these days.

My aunt pulled
me closer. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s on
another continent? Who am I going to talk to about all of this?”

“That’s the
point. You won’t have to talk about it because it won’t be your problem. You
can go back to just being Olivia.”

“Nice sentiment, but totally unrealistic.
I can’t rewind the
past. All I can do is
fix
what is broken.” Shade stood
at my side, scowling at my choice of words. Neither of them understood what if
felt like to be thrust into madness.

“Think of this
as a chance to catch your breath. A chance to live free of fear,” Aunt Claire
said.

I pulled out of
my aunt’s hug. “It’s too late for that.”

Her face
scrunched up as though she were on the verge of tears. She turned pleading eyes
onto Shade who said, taking a different approach, “For the last time, you’re
not broken. Your father—”

“Yes, I know
what he wanted and what the council wants now. Everyone has an opinion. Too bad
no one ever cared to let me in on the secret, so I wouldn’t end up looking like
a frightened child. To tell you the truth, it’s kind of insulting that you’re
so quick to write me off.”

“Don’t be
dramatic.”

“I don’t think I
am. I’d like to see how well you’d cope if everything you counted on fell
apart. Lose someone then talk to me about keeping your chin up.” 

Hands then arms
blurred. Fragments resembling ice shavings broke off the swirling white bands
circling his irises. A low growl resonated deep in his throat.

Aunt Claire
rested a hand on his arm. “Now, Shade, she doesn’t understand the significance
of events. Let’s just take a moment here and collect ourselves.”

An uncomfortable
silence settled over the room. Had I really said that I would feel better if he
lost his family? Geez I was turning into a capital ‘B’. Head lowered, I spoke
in his direction. “I didn’t mean to imply . . . I meant that you can’t really
understand what I’m going through. No one in the valley can, not really.
Everyone says they do, and they pretend to care if I’m alright. But all they
really want is for me to jump right in and be the warden to make them feel
good.”

“We don’t,” he
retorted, the words flinging out of his mouth, flipping my hair to the side.

“You’re the
guiltiest. You think I don’t pick up on your disappointment? I’m not my father
or Danny or your warden. It’s not fair that you expect me to be when I’ve been
left in the dark and lied to.” I took a ragged breath and thought of something
else. This time, he was on the receiving end of my not quite as intimidating
gaze. “When I came down to the kitchen tonight, you said my fears were
justified, but now you think I should be sent away. What am I supposed to
think? That I don’t measure up or that I must be—”

“You’re not
broken,” he said before I could get the words out. He looked down at the table
and expelled a long, deep breath. “I apologize for putting pressure on you. In
my mind you are my warden whether you ever take the position or not. And for
the record, I’m not pretending. I care a great deal about how you’re doing.
You, Olivia.”
He emphasized, staring straight at me.
“Not my warden, you.
Understand?”

I didn’t know
what to say. Aunt Claire broke the silence for me.

 “On that
note, I think we should call it a night. The stress of the past couple of days
is making everyone a bit touchy,” Aunt Claire announced, postponing making a
decision on whether I should leave or not.

 Maybe she
had decided, I thought, getting a sick feeling in my stomach, but didn’t want
to break it to me in front of Shade. The tension in her voice shook me. So
Shade wasn’t the only one with doubts. I looked at her, really looked at her as
a person and not as my aunt. Since the accident, she’d lost a lot of weight and
a few gray strands of hair now framed her face. She’d lost that sparkle that I
remembered from her visits. She’d aged, because of me.

It occurred to
me that maybe I wasn’t the only one out on that wobbly boulder. Maybe my aunt
needed something to hold her together, too. Maybe she needed something from me
just like I needed for her to be strong, so I could be. “Give me a minute. I
have to get something from my room,” I said, my voice uncertain as I pushed up
from the table.

I could hear
their voices in low conversation as I clumped up the back stairs. A few hours
ago, I would’ve jumped at the chance to leave, but now I was fighting to stay?
My fears were the same. Something else wasn’t, and it was stronger than my fears.
Looking past my resentment was tough as was ignoring Mr. Cassidy’s motives in
showing me that photo. What mattered was Danny’s confident smile, and his bold,
forthright stare that still had the power to reassure his troubled little
sister. Danny hadn’t been afraid of this place or his future. In a sad twist of
fate, that became his last gift.

The contents of
my medicine cabinet clattered into the cheery holiday bag with the smiling
snowmen family. I was sure my aunt would object.
Too bad.
This wasn’t just about me, and what I needed to move forward anymore. This was
about us and a bunch of people I hadn’t met yet.

Without
explanation I dumped the bag out on the kitchen table. Several vials rolled
towards the edge. I let them. Shade plucked them out of the air and held them
out towards me in the palm of his hand an eyebrow arched over a wary eye.

 “What is
the meaning of this?” Aunt Claire demanded, flipping over the bottles, her
narrowed eyes skimming the labels. “Antidepressants, sleeping pills, pain
pills; did you take everything?”

“You need me to
move forward, so let me toss them out,” I answered.

“Not like this.
You need these. Dr. Martin’s—”

“Would have me
committed if I spoke a word about what really goes on in Spring Valley. I’m tired
of the lies and that includes those I live to get through each day.”

“Let’s not be
hasty. The sleeping pills are necessary. Even with them, you wake up screaming.
Not the pain pills—you need those, too. This rashness is exactly why I believe
you should go away for a little while.”

“Why don’t you
listen to me? Alright, I get it. I fell apart. You can stop protecting me every
second of the day. I need, no I want to be able to think clearly and feel like
myself, or barring that, try to find myself again. I can’t do it when I feel so
detached from my own life.”

“You’ve no idea
what you’re asking me to agree to. You were so out of it for months. It was as
though I’d buried you in the family crypt,” she replied, her voice thick with
tears. “I couldn’t bear to see you that way again; drifting through your days
like the walking dead with hollow eyes and a lifeless voice, crying
hysterically for hours on end. Please, put these away.”

“It was scary
being inside my skin and trapped in my head by . . . doubts.” I’d almost said
by a sinister voice, but that would give her more ammunition. “But I’m not that
girl anymore, just like I’m not the Olivia Pepperdine that was before the
accident. I need you to let me do this. Otherwise, I might just stay lost,” I
said. My voice kept quivering now that I faced myself through her eyes. “Let me
try it without all the meds.”

“Claire, maybe—”

 “No,
Shade, you weren’t there.” Aunt Claire cut him off. “The littlest thing would
set her off.”

“Please, I’ll
try harder. I’ll stop hanging out in the gazebo. I’ll go back to the yearbook
meetings and work more hours at Hattie’s store. Just tell me what you want me
to do!” I begged, the words running together. I sucked in my lower lip and
tossed my
earbuds
and iPod on the table. “Take them.
I won’t use them to block out the quiet. Just believe in me one more time.”

 “Sweetie,
I never stopped believing in you. I’m sorry if I’ve made you doubt yourself. I
only meant to protect you until you were stronger. Maybe until I felt strong
enough for all of this. I’ve been so wrapped up in getting through each new
thing thrown at us; that I didn’t see that you were getting better.” She
fingered my iPod, thinking. “We’ll compromise. Keep your music, the pain pills,
and the sleeping pills. Keep the low dose anxiety pills for those times when
you need a little help coping,” she said, pushing those towards me. The rest,
she pocketed. “I’ll speak with Dr. Long about weaning you off the others and
ask what to do in case you have a bad day.”

“Does that mean
I can stay here with you?” I asked, holding my breath.

“As long as you want.
No more pressure either. I’ll make
sure of it.”

“We’ll make
sure,” Shade said.

“Agreed,” I
sighed, giving my aunt a hug. “Now, can we try before I chicken out?”

“That’s between
you and Shade. Personally, I’d like you to sleep on it.”

I turned to
Shade. He grabbed the milk jug and headed over to the refrigerator. “Great show
of confidence,” I said when he started rearranging items in the door.

“I thought we
agreed no pressure.”

“I thought you
said I wasn’t broken.”

He ran a hand
through his hair and turned slowly around. “After the series of shocks you’ve
had, I’d prefer you eased into valley life and enjoyed your senior year.”

“I can’t believe
I’m saying this, but I don’t agree.”

In a blur of
movement, he was standing next to the table, searching my expression. I took a
deep breath and tried to sound calmer than I looked, judging by the increase in
the tension in his stance. “I want to understand this place my family cares so
much about. Maybe it’ll help me feel closer to my parents and the clans. I’ve
got to start somewhere. Small steps remember?”

The corner of
his lips curled up slightly. He sat down. Then, just as he had for my aunt, he
put his hands on the table, palms up. It helped that he looked so utterly
relaxed and nonthreatening. Not quite sure what to expect, I placed my hands on
top of his.

He chuckled.
“Relax. I’m not going to leap across the table.”

Calluses rubbed
gently against my palm. I knew he was strong from watching him heft Hattie’s
supplies. But was he always so warm, I wondered, noticing the low simmer. Tense
muscles relaxed as the warmth spread up my arms. I shot him a questioning look.
Leave it to Shade to help me relax for my own good.

“Better,” he
said in his compelling, deep drawl. “Now then, I don’t want you to be
disappointed if nothing happens. I’ve seen it take several sessions. Not
everyone responds in the same way. And like it or not, Olivia, you come into
this with a lot of baggage.”

“Baggage.
How attractive,” I said, smiling crookedly. “I
think you’re the one who’s going to be the stumbling block. I’m just saying
you’re all Mr. Hero type afraid to hurt the heroine of the story.”

He snorted.
“Give me a break. I’m just moving at a nice slow pace, so you have a good
experience.”

“You mean a
snail’s pace. I can’t experience anything if you don’t actually do something. I
mean it, Shade. Prove to me that I’m not broken. Join.”

He growled. His
brow furrowed and he said in a strained voice, “Olivia, could you try not
ordering me. I could cause you serious mental damage.”

“Oops, sorry.
Take your time.”

“Thank you. Now
if you don’t mind, close your eyes and take slow, deep breaths.”

“How will I know
if it’s working? What will it feel like?”

He sighed.
“Deep breaths.
There you go nice and even,” he said in his
smooth, melting voice. “I’m just going to skim. You’ll feel a tingle of
awareness.
Nothing invasive.
It’ll be like the sense
you get when you think someone is observing you and you need to turn and look.
If you can breathe through that, I’ll deepen my touch until you get a sense of
my emotional state. Depending on how that goes, we’ll see about taking it a
step further. Don’t be upset if you don’t feel anything. This is all pretty new
to you. And no matter how much you think you want this, underneath there’s
baggage.”

Excellent pep
talk, guaranteed to fire up the nerves. The warmth from his hands continued to
spread into every crevice of my body. My shoulders drooped. It was all I could
do not to yawn. Briefly, I suspected him of trying to make me too tired to make
an attempt tonight.

Like the tickle
of a feather, Shade ghosted along the periphery of my mind. I gulped in my next
breath of air and started to cough. He waited patiently while I sipped some
water and got comfortable in my chair. I tried to smile to show him I was okay.
Judging by the tiny stress lines at the corner of his mouth, I don’t think he
bought it. I half expected him to decide we were going to wait until tomorrow
when the white bands around his eyes began to thicken and spiral around his
irises. Intrigued, I leaned in closer. Apparently, my curiosity he took to be a
good sign. His posture relaxed. Leave it to Shade to devise a test of my
readiness.

The ghosting
sensation resumed followed by a subtle shift in pressure. I accepted it
confidently enough that he decided to move things along. Now, the ghosting
bristled and tugged, forcing me to notice what he was trying to convey. I
shoved back into my chair and it scraped across the linoleum.

Aunt Claire
touched my shoulder. I sucked in a startled breath. “If you want to stop,
Olivia, just say so. Shade won’t be offended.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure
about that?” Shade hooked a foot around the leg of my chair and pulled it up to
the table. “Try to remember that you trust me.”

Given my rapid
breathing, I decided to just nod.

It seemed like
we reached the bristling and tugging stage much faster this time. Then as
though pieces of him had inserted hooks into the brief microsecond between
thoughts, awareness became a connection and I sensed my world extending to
include another. Unobtrusive like the lightest touch upon my arm to get my
attention, Shade’s emotions hovered, respectfully waiting for the next step to
be my decision.

I almost smiled
at his overly cautious hero approach. Then I recalled the gravity of the
occasion. The curve of my lips straightened into a serious line of
concentration that hid my unease. I’d asked for this. If I hesitated much
longer he would decide to end this before we started, for my own good. The
moment I turned my attention onto the most pronounced emotion it flowed forward
in an unhurried fashion, spreading with the consistency of thick cream until it
coated my next thought but did not mix or hinder. Again, Shade doing all he
could to make this a pleasant experience.

Anticipation
radiated off of him, and then deflated when I drew back, disconcerted by the
intimacy. I couldn’t help it. This elevated invasion of privacy way beyond
having my diary read. I was the diary. I struggled to keep my revulsion from
showing on my face and could only hope that it didn’t spill over into the part
of me that Shade could sense.

I must not have
succeeded because he asked,
both tone
and touch
concerned, “Are you alright?”

 “I’m used
to it just being me in here.”

“At this point,
it still is. If you want to stop just give the word.”

Discouragement—so
faint that it was immediately smothered by another round of deep concern—upset
me on several levels. In my before life I’d never quit when things got hard.
I’d been so much bolder. Between the memory of Danny’s happy smile and my trust
in Shade, I found the courage to say, “I’m fine. I just needed a minute. Please
continue.”

I breathed
harder as, one at a time, his emotions flowed alongside of mine, allowing for
an undemanding adjustment to the intriguing, everyday world of the Whisperers.
Concern.
Hope. Welcome. This intimate gift, a snapshot of
the motivations behind this intriguing man, left me humbled. I should’ve known
my hero would take care that nothing upsetting filtered through the connection.

My hard fought
for equilibrium—still so new and more fragile than my pride liked to
acknowledge—wobbled. Doubt fed me a diet of my past hysterical episodes and
debilitating depression. While I took slim comfort that this couldn’t be
classified as one of my episodes, I had to scramble to find solid footing to
cope with this strange, new life.

Hands clasped
beneath her chin Aunt Claire leaned closer, resting her weight on her elbows. “Olivia,
how are you doing?”

Her words
floated amongst my thoughts, reminding me of when I’d drift off during a
television show and wake up long enough to snatch a word here and there of a
conversation. Marshaling a response took more effort than I expected. “Shade’s
everywhere. It’s kind of hard to think straight.”

Aunt Claire
frowned. “Shade, perhaps you should pull back a little. This is her first
time.”

“I’m hardly
projecting,” he answered.

“For an
accomplished linker I expect that is true. When was the last time you connected
with a new initiate?
Years, if ever?
Withdraw,” Aunt
Claire ordered. “You’re scaring Olivia.”

I swallowed and
tasted blood from where I’d bitten the inside of my mouth. Memories tumbled out
of the darkness. Anxiety ratcheted immediately up to panic that was out of my
control. The catalyst, tree limbs that morphed into ghostly, long-fingered
hands caressing my face, released months of suppressed terror. I didn’t want
to, but I was compelled to peer into churning eyes. My heart banged against my
ribs. Injured and pinned in place I couldn’t stop splayed fingers from clasping
the top of my head. A callous voice snaked between memories and disrupted
thoughts, igniting the inside of my skull. I screamed and begged as my brain
burned. The brogue thickened with frustration, demanding answers. Like greedy,
grubbing talons, cruel images clamped hold, driving my consciousness deeper
into the disjointed nightmare.
Blood pooling in my shoes.
Rasping breaths.
Cruel hands
delivering searing, immobilizing pain.
Screaming.
A seductive voice owning my name.
Daddy!

Memories
collapsed helter-skelter one into the other, momentarily unearthing a dark,
frightening place filled with malevolent purpose. I recoiled straight into the
terrible quiet. Alone, I waited for death. The voice had promised.

Reassurance
plunged into my private hell. A steadfast presence ruffled across my raw
consciousness. It tugged and prodded, trailing an enticing whisper that refused
to yield to the quiet. My heart quickened in response, although I couldn’t
explain why. Fear fizzled out. Loss loosened its crushing grip. Caring curled
about the empty places in my heart. I sighed, drinking in the comfort and oh so
natural brush of Shade.