Brush of Shade (27 page)

“Of all the
stupid, fool-hearty, risky ideas with the ego to match,” I snapped, whirling
around, prepared to let him really have it. The amber glow from the porch light
highlighted ugly purplish-black bruises that disappeared into his hairline. I
shoved a hand out of my sleeve, and brushed the yellow blond streak behind his
ear. Coarse stubble from his unshaven cheek tickled my palm. My breath hitched
and I whispered, “These are nasty. Should you be out of bed?”

His cool, macho
shrug was all it took to reignite my temper. “Don’t make light of this. The rest
of us didn’t have the benefit of your first-hand insights. Do you know what it
was like for me to watch as you careened down that slope? Then to have my worst
fears played out before my eyes as you were tossed about? Even Shadow was
panicked. You’re not unbreakable.”

“All for show,
or at least most of it,” he answered, drawing a hand across his jaw. “If I
apologize for frightening you, could we go inside?”

“Take me
seriously,” I shrieked, shoving his chest. Color drained from his face. I cried
out, frightened for him. “Oh, God, Shade, I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“Shake me
tomorrow, okay?” he replied, grimacing slightly when he breathed.

“What were you
thinking leaving your bed? Is anything broken?”

“My pride.
I really wanted to win.”

“Men!”
I said crossly. “I’m worried about you, and all you
care about is that stupid race.”

“This isn’t just
about winning a race. If we concede a single activity, that puts a win in their
column. I won’t do it, and I won’t let you either. Don’t look so worried. I’m
battered, but not broken. We heal very fast. Another day and I’ll be good to
rev.”

“What do you
mean? You can’t vibrate?” I demanded, looking him up and down.

“Dr. Long
doesn’t want me to risk aggravating anything. So why don’t we step inside where
the nice furnace can do the job of warming you up, until I’m fit again?” he
asked hopefully, peering down into my face, the corners of his lips lifting to
form a tentative smile. His brow furrowed. “Apparently we’re going to stay out
here and have this out. Why can’t you just let the council worry about the
situation?”

“Am I your
warden in name only?”

“Sure, throw my
words in my face. Ask anyone, you’ll see I’m not so easily manipulated. No
orders,” he said when I opened my mouth. “Fine, I’ll explain my behavior
yesterday.”

 “No one
should be questioning your behavior. You were having fun,” I replied, enjoying
the contest of wills. I felt stronger knowing he didn’t see me as a doormat.
“Do you believe the purists were behind the snow twisters and the attack at the
ski run?”

“My bureau chief
believes so. Unfortunately, when multiple minds are involved, it’s almost
impossible to identify individual vibration patterns. Unless a witness comes
forward, the enforcers don’t have much to go on.”

“Did they intend
to kill you?” I asked, my voice trembling.

His expression
was unreadable, but his fisted hands gave away what he truly thought. “I may be
young in their eyes, but I’m a force to be reckoned with. After yesterday, they
know it as does the individual responsible for these,” he said, touching the
cuts on his jaw. “The attack at the ski run was an introduction. Someone out
there has a healthy range they’ve been keeping quiet about.”

“Another diamond?”

 
“Possibly.
Had I considered even for a moment that they
meant something more than a warning, that they had intentions towards you, I
would’ve frozen the individual’s vibrations in a heartbeat. They’d have seen me
standing at your side. From now on, I won’t be as forgiving.”

A low simmer
ignited deep within my chest, reminding me of the Soul Oath and the
inevitability of our linked futures. I stepped back into the snow, sinking
deeper. The move was futile. Not even today’s frigid temperatures or
yesterday’s ice shell could extinguish the flame. Both of our futures need not be
consumed. I strove to sound calm and unaffected, but had to settle for the
slight quiver in my voice. “Now that they’ve tested you, they’ll probably give
you a wide berth. When word gets around that my aunt has taken over as warden
and I’m going out east for college, they’ll figure out I’m powerless.” And
you’ll be safe, I refrained from saying.

“You can’t
change who you are. You’ve Pepperdine and Whisperer inside of you. It’s a
powerful combination. Sister Willow agrees,” he said with conviction.

“Because I can snatch up someone’s memory?
Watch out, scary
weapon,” I said, holding my hands out with my fingers curved like claws ready
to strike.

“Memories,
impressions, and ideas can be. Knowledge is power.”

“It’s creepy and
unethical.”

He shook his
head. “Only you would be worried about the ethics of picking up the plans of
those who mean the valley harm.”

“I suppose
you’ve never heard that two wrongs don’t make a right?”

“You’ve got it
all wrong. You live in a valley where a significant portion of the population
routinely links minds.”

“Then you or
Sister Willow should have no trouble finding those behind this.”

He stared at me
patiently. When I didn’t get his point, he explained. “We only pick up on the
emotions or thoughts an individual brings to the link. Someone with the skill
to execute a sustained, precision attack of the magnitude unleashed on gate
five—without being detected by enforcers watching the race—has the mental
control to put forth only what he wants people to know during a connection.
Granted, if we had a suspect, Sister Willow has the gifts to penetrate his
walls. Without strong cause, the Pact won’t allow the violation.”

“Alright just
say it. Where do I come in?”

“Once you become
the warden, you are the Executer of the Pact. As well as being the only one
permitted to call into question acts that you deem of possible harm to the
clans.”

“I’m above the
law?” I asked, wondering what idiot had decided it would be a good idea to give
one person that much power.

“You are the
law.”

My eyes widened at
the distinction. I sort of hobbled a step back. Warm, steadying hands pulled me
forward out of the drift. “That’s heady. I don’t want that responsibility.”

“It comes with
the position. The warden isn’t restricted by clan boundaries nor does the
warden need to obtain council permission to act.”

“Privacy is a
right people have died to protect. I can’t trample it. I won’t.”

“You saw
firsthand how ruthless these people are. Not even children’s lives carry any
weight.”

“I’m not a
dictator. It’s wrong!” I replied in a high tight voice. I knew I sounded
desperate to be released from my fate, but this was too much. I tucked in my
upper lip, biting it lightly with my lower teeth, going numb inside at the
thought of what these people found acceptable let alone that Shade expected me
to be that sort of person. Aunt Claire, she couldn’t issue an order like that,
could she? But then, the purist had hurt people and needed to be stopped.

Shade leaned closer,
revealing choppy seas breaking across thinning white bands. Ice wedges amassed
like soldiers in formation. “So you’ll just hand your enemy what they want. To
what end? Do you want to be responsible for the misery of untold generations?
The warden’s voice stands between a community and chaos. Stop denying your
heritage and help us,” he shouted, punching the air with his palm, knocking the
fresh powder off the railings.

Neither of us
said anything as a circle of snow melted into a pool of slush extending a good
eight inches past our feet. I rocked back and forth, my shoes sloshing a
channel to drain the water, while I contemplated snow twisters, wind shears,
and what Shade could potentially do should he really lose his temper. I shifted
position, so I could see my snowman guarding my back yard with his off center
hump that Shade had playfully exaggerated. I breathed easier thinking about
this side of him. In a thoughtful voice I asked, pointing down at the slush,
“You can do this and you need my help?”

His head swung
towards the back door. “Your aunt wants to keep your life simple. As your
protector, I would arm you with knowledge. I’ve waited years to show Danny’s
little sister the wonders of our community. I regret that lost opportunity.
We’ve been stained by ugliness.”

The sadness in
his voice made my heart thump loudly. He turned back and gave me a quizzical
look. To cover I said, “Contrary to popular opinion, I’m adjusting. I’ve not
ordered you to drive me to the airport.”

“I’d be quite
conflicted if you did.”

“I wouldn’t want
to cause you more pain. I’ll wait until tomorrow,” I replied in a playful tone.
His lips pressed together forming a tight, white line. I felt a pang of regret
for his sacrifices. For his sake, I tried to be what he needed. “Please explain
how the warden isn’t a dictator.”

“Yours is the
call that unites the clans. Without the Pact and our warden some would find the
temptation to stray too great to resist. We would be diminished. Should too
many stray we, Whisperers and humans alike, would suffer greatly.” 

 “Why give
the warden so much power?”

“We dare not.
Our ancestors were aggressive, arrogant, and amoral. Unlike humans, this nature
hasn’t been as suppressed into our subconscious as we would like. Even though
our species was on the verge of extinction, the dominants subjugated lesser
males as hunters to execute the mates and offspring of their rivals. Unclaimed
lessers
banded together to combat the emotional barrages
released by the dominants. In most cases, these tentative alliances led to
internal bloodbaths. After a particularly violent period of carnage and raging
emotional storms, territories were assigned to small contingents. Our
pre-Roland attempt at civilization met with limited success as long as we kept
our physical, mental, and emotional distance. Then humans encroached. Waves of
invaders and an endless succession of wars forced us to live as they did in
towns and farming villages. The noise of all those minds with their emotional
spikes overloaded our most vulnerable, our young. Many children were lost.
Dominants re-emerged, risking our discovery. People lost hope and feared they
were destined to be savage, insular beings. Our communal experiment was on the
brink of failure.”

“What did Roland
do, that everyone now expects from me?” I asked, fiddling with the zipper on my
jacket, trying my best not to panic at the idea that there might be a dominant
in our valley.

“Our ancestors
discovered within Roland the ability to connect and hold the wash of many
minds. We became a unified people not combatants.”

I tugged the
zipper up and crossed my arms. “Just because this is a conversation and not an
order, you don’t get to gloss over the details. Are you afraid of scaring me
off?”

“Let’s say I’m
cautious because you didn’t grow up here experiencing us as friends and loved
ones before being exposed to our history and darker aspects. Strong-willed egos
and emotional releases ruled the collective until Roland’s compassionate touch
drew into the forefront our empathetic nature. In the same way I bolstered you
by projecting emotions during our joining, the collective’s intermingled
thoughts and emotions sustains us with its consistent background presence.
Bound to the whole, we function at our best when the collective grazes our minds
on a regular basis. The oneness bridges the emptiness that drives reason to the
side. Thanks to Roland’s patient influence we as a people became grounded. We
became a community.”

“At the risk of
melting my back yard, it sounds to me like your ancestors traded their
individuality for order rather than working through their difficulties,” I
replied.

“It’s because
we’re interconnected that strong emotional spikes no longer overwhelm an
individual. The community need not live in fear of enslavement by those individuals
with abilities and talents in the upper ranges. I’m always an individual. This
is possible because our warden treasures and safeguards the motivations of our
hearts. As our warden, you will be our binding voice that holds us together in
peaceful co-existence because your humanity fosters our empathetic nature.”

My hand shook as
I pressed it to my forehead and drew it across the top of my head. “You don’t
ask for much, do you? From a newcomers perspective it sounds like you’ve
created your own weakest link. A corrupt warden could undermine the fabric of
your community. I can understand why some might view Roland as your people’s
single greatest mistake.”

“
Our people
,”
he corrected. “That pivotal moment kept us from succumbing to our savage side.
Roland was a godsend.”

 “Whisperers
aren’t savages anymore. They’ve evolved. Has a warden ever attempted to step
back and allow the collective to operate without outside interference?”

“Would you be
willing to risk the fate of so many lives? I told you our history is one of
brutal domination.” He shook his head. “To this day, some Whispers argue that
we deserve to be as nature intended, dominance driven with humans enslaved or
exterminated. This disdain for our intense oneness, fostered by those who advocate
a return to the old ways, has led to experimentation. In some cases, the
temptation to yield to our inner demons couldn’t be silenced.”

“Are you
speaking of rogues?” Grim-faced, Shade stared across my backyard at the peaks
blanketed by slate-gray clouds descending into the valley, promising more snow
to restrict our world. “Answering my questions is in the advisor handbook.”

 “So it
is,” he replied and then fell silent.

“I’ve never
considered how awful the conflict must be for you,” I said empathetically.