Brush of Shade (28 page)

“The subject is
distasteful, but for more than the reason you perceived. During high school,
when my talent seemed to make giant leaps practically on a weekly basis, I had
moments of arrogance that led to some pretty ugly scenes. One summer, Danny’s
last one with us, he and Shad tag teamed me to keep my head straight and my
body physically exhausted. More than once Shad covered my ass by taking the
blame for a rule that I’d broken. Folks expected that behavior out of him. Not
me, I was going to be the first male diamond of my generation. They had me
slotted to be an elder someday. Were it not for Shad’s mental touch in the back
of my mind, I might’ve dabbled past the point where I could’ve been saved,” he
admitted.

It was hard to
imagine self-confident Shade as an out of control teen, as a potential
dominant. I watched the light in his eyes dim. For the briefest moment his body
vibrated. My hand inched closer. Just before we touched, I curled my fingers
into a loose fist. Even if I offered to share sorrow, he’d turn me down for my
own good.

“We can change
the subject. I’ll ask my aunt about rogues,” I offered.

“You might as
well hear it from someone who understands. Where I was just a teenage boy with
raging hormones and the temptation of power to lead me to question our oneness,
on occasion there have been those individuals who foolishly believed themselves
strong enough to stand alone, unaligned, or rogue if you will. Reports of their
collapse are presented in great detail when a youth’s ability awakens. It is
quite sobering. In retrospect, I was too cocky for my own good. Rules
constrained me at every turn. Intoxicated by the emotional rush, the lure of
going rogue had an old-west, lone gunman sort of appeal.”

“Our version of
the police, the Enforcers Bureau, is charged with containment should someone
yield to their inner demons. Multiple attempts are made to reintegrate the
rogue into the collective. Regrettably, failure results in the silencing of the
rogue’s mind and by extension those qualities uniquely Whisperer. If necessary
the individual will be put down.”

“As in killed?”
I gasped.

“The secret must
be kept and the humans protected. Survival requires sacrifices,” he replied in
an inflexible voice.

“Of what, compassion?”
I wet my lips. “Just how close did
you get to that line?
Shade?”
I said touching his
sleeve.

“Close enough to
scare myself straight although in hindsight not as close as I feared.
Regrettably, my crazed period kept Shad from stretching out his range. On the
plus side, I probably saved my parents from more sleepless nights. Shad’s
stunts have a legendary status amongst the younger crowd.”

 “I bet,” I
said distractedly. I swallowed hard, thinking about my mother. She’d been away
for years. Had her half-blood status saved her? Had she found a way to cope
with the isolation or had every day been a battle? What was it Trent had said?
“As warden you keep the calm.” My father had done this for his wife, kept her
sane. Why hadn’t he quit his job and come home for her? Just who were these
people I called Mom and Dad? My life had been built on a series of secrets and
omissions. I wanted to yell, but the ones I wanted to confront were gone,
leaving my poor aunt to take the brunt of my frustration.

Perhaps sensing
that I needed a minute, Shade waited out my silence. Keen eyes raked my face.
Everything was still so fresh. If he asked, I doubted I could articulate a
coherent response. I wasn’t even close to getting a handle on my emotions. I
suspected that he knew this. That would explain his watchfulness. No doubt he
was regretting coming out here. I know I was. My head was swimming, but I had
the sinking feeling that he had more to say.

Before he gave
me more to process I asked, “What I can’t understand is if the warden is so
important to the clans’ mental state, why would someone be so eager to risk it
all?”

“They no longer
believe in the unity of the clans. They covet power they’ve no right to claim.
When I catch whoever is behind this, I’ll have your answer.”

“I hope you mean
you and several other qualified individuals?”

“Naturally.”

Yeah, right.
Realizing that I’d tied a knot in my drawstring, I dropped my hands to my
sides. They swung there with my fingernails scrapping across my palms. “This
chat has been both alarming and disturbing. Although why bother to explain all
of this when I don’t take on my duties until I’ve finished college. Aren’t you
afraid I won’t return?”

“Obligation
required an explanation. I judged you strong enough for the truth. While Claire
holds the position of temporary warden with the authority to act in your stead,
you are and always will be the
Warden
. The ability to call across clan
boundaries and into the hearts of clan folks is your birthright. There is ever
only one granted that full unequivocal right. Your aunt will not receive that
blessing.”

“I don’t follow.
My aunt is a Pepperdine by birth. Shouldn’t she be able to do this call that
you’re talking about?”

“A call, yes,
but not the
binding call
of the heart. As the daughter
of the last warden that is your birthright.”

“She is the
daughter of a warden.”

“True. This will
enable her to a certain degree, based on her level of talent and skill, to
encompass her people and guide them in a united purpose. The blessing follows
through the bloodline of the last warden. Our people treasure your aunt’s
devotion, but our hearts know intimately Ethan’s love for his daughter.”

“That sounds
sort of iffy to me.” The pity in his caring eyes barreled over the nice logical
argument I’d been constructing. Destiny was quickly becoming a hated word in my
vocabulary.

“Another could
step forward, but I wouldn’t want to test the extent of the blessing that might
or might not be bestowed upon them. In these troubled times the valley cannot
afford to be without a strong warden.” He cocked his head, studying my
reaction. “Look at you; you’re pale and tense like you’ve been given a death
sentence. I said too much and frightened you. I’m sorry.”

He looked it to
with his downcast eyes and slumped shoulders turned partially towards the back
door. “Don’t be. There’s an upside. I won’t have to look for a job when I
graduate.” When he didn’t smile I pushed ahead. “What is the blessing?”

“The heart and soul of the Whisperers.”

“Loads of help, thanks.”

The corners of
his lips curled up although with his bruises it looked tortured. “I cannot
describe for you that which I cannot experience. Until puberty our family’s
loving support fills the hollow places of our mind and heart. As we grow into
our abilities, our awareness for and of the community expands. For us it’s
another sense, one that perceives the underlying emotional thread of our
people. It’s what Grandmother Willow calls soul music. For our human warden, I
imagine the blessing is much like what you experienced during our joining
session just on a much grander, soul enriching scale. One warden wrote of the
essence of his people coalescing to form another consciousness that shared in
his life journey. I don’t know if that helps clarify or makes you more uncomfortable?”

“I can’t get a
handle on what’s inside my head. I don’t want to be filled with the emotional
output of strangers.”

“We won’t feel
like strangers,” he said with a touch of exasperation. “I’m doing a poor job of
explaining the gift. I wish your father was here.”

“No offense, but
the warden’s job sounds invasive and way too powerful for one person.”

“I believe more
joinings
will help you relate to the peace we feel when
connected. Then you’ll understand why I cannot conceive of the idea of severing
this connection and going rogue. The emptiness, the sheer weight of all that
quiet must surely be the worst form of torture.”

I shuddered and
said under my breath, “I’d take the quiet.”

Air rapped
against my body. “Our joining was that terrible? Explain,” he demanded.

The word
exploded in my mind, driving unrelated thoughts to the side until the answer
spilled out of my mouth unedited. “Even for us mere humans quiet can be
sinister and frightening. Unlike you, I want its weight to pull me under. Quiet
is when the voice snakes out.”

Chunks of ice
banded together, forming a dense ice field surrounding a massive iceberg
centered over each eye. Hot vibrating hands gripped my upper arms, lifting me up
onto my toes. “You’d prefer the company of your tormentor, a voice that feeds
on your fears and makes you question your sanity? You prefer that over a
joining?”

With me, he’d
left unsaid. The chill in his voice made my stomach clench. “That’s not—”

“You spoke the
truth.” He snatched his hands back and took a step, putting distance between
us. “Clearly your aggressor’s torment has proved detrimental to your mental
health. I’ll ask my grandmother to reconsider expunging the voice.”

 “And risk
losing any chance of remembering what he wanted from my dad, no way.”

He blinked and
then slapped his forehead. “I’m an idiot. Of course you want that. Sorry, I’m
still edgy.”
Fingers
vibed
gently
as they cupped my chin.
“Your father wouldn’t want you to continue suffering.
He’d expect his people to shield you from this horror. It’s our privilege to
ease his daughter’s sorrows.”

My gaze fell.
He’d meant every word. It was hard to be angry that he’d voiced me when I’d
just felt his loving, generous spirit brush my thoughts. “I do want to try
another joining with you, if you promise not to bolt for the door,” I answered,
smiling up at him through my lashes.

“I had good
reasons for my actions. Let’s go inside. You need to rest.”

“Have you looked
in the mirror?” I answered; concerned that Mr. Noble was hiding the extent of
his injuries.

“My bruises will
be gone days before yours have completed turning all those lovely putrid
shades,” he said with an irritating touch of superiority.

“I could order
you to go home and go straight to bed. It would be in my best interest.
Considering all the guilt and worry just looking at you brings up. I do believe
I’m feeling rather anxious. Definitely not good for my recovery,” I said,
putting the back of my hand against my forehead and pretending to swoon.

For the first
time since I’d come downstairs he smiled broadly. “Sure twist things around.
I’m going to have to watch out for you.”

The ember buried
in my core pulsed, flooding me with warmth and contentment. Taut muscles lost
their cohesive structure. I swayed. Amazed and rather embarrassed, I stared out
across the yard, contemplating his one hundred watt smile and wondering how
blinding it would be when it actually meant something significant.

“Why is it just
when I’ve made up my mind that I’ve had enough of this place, you manage to
talk me out of it? I must be spineless,” I said.

“On the
contrary, my warden, you charged up that slope to save
Rylan
and Meadow. Talking you into staying isn’t hard when your heart knows you’ve
come home.” His warm voice trilled across my cool cheeks. “Trust your heart,
Livi
. Please.”

He tucked me
gently against his body, vibrating ever so slightly to steal away the cold. I
should scold him for vibrating against doctor’s orders. Instead, I waited,
watching intently as ice melted and ripples of tension slowed and lapped
rhythmically against wispy white bands. Crystal-blue seas beckoned for me to
wade into their skin-tingling depths. For a brief moment, I stood on their
banks and knew I was home.

I gave it fifteen
more seconds. Cuddling against his warm, very solid chest most definitely was
going to give me future heartache. To him, I was his warden first, friend
second, and third
an
off-limits, high school girl
with major baggage. Reluctantly, I raised my head to suggest that we head
inside. Before I could register the cold air that had replaced the warm chest,
the storm door swung open.

“Olivia, Trent’s
on the phone,” my aunt called out.

 “Sure
common sense can’t convince her to go inside. But
a phone
call
from the football star, and she’s quick to dump the guy who took a
battering. Don’t mind me. I’ll hobble inside,” Shade said, his playful tone
sounding somewhat forced.

“Right.
Just a minute ago you were the guy whose bruises
were going to be gone long before mine,” I said over my shoulder. Actually, I
was the one hobbling. I stuck my tongue out at him when he beat me to the door.

“That’s mature,”
he said, holding the door open.

Shade’s teasing
had put me in a better mood, so I was much cheerier on the phone than I’d
originally intended. Not that I was over the incident at the Cassidy’s ranch or
seeing that girl clinging to Trent’s arm. But then, who was I to judge,
considering the confusing state of my relationship with Shade. Poor Trent
sounded so dispirited that I agreed to a short visit.

We said goodbye
then I stretched out on my bed. My body mutinied; I was asleep with the phone
still in my hand. Sometime after two, I rolled out of bed feeling very groggy.
I grabbed clean clothes and headed for the shower. By the time I plopped onto
the sofa, I had fifteen minutes to spare.

“Where did
everyone go?” I asked my aunt, who upon learning of Trent’s imminent arrival
was stock piling cookies onto a second holiday plate.

“The guys left
when you disappeared into your room,” she said, her tone disapproving.

“I fell asleep.”

“I had errands
to run.”

“Sorry.”

She frowned.
“Don’t be sorry that you fell asleep. You needed that.”