“Samantha! Are you all right?”
Samantha nodded, then felt stupid realizing Lane couldn’t see her in the dark. “It wasn’t me.”
“Sorry.” Audrey’s voice sounded hollow in the darkness, “I should have warned you guys.”
Lane flipped on the lights and now Sam could see Audrey’s sheepish expression, “I scream sometimes, during the nightmares.”
“If your dreams were anything like the ones I just had, I don’t blame you.”
Audrey’s brow furrowed at that comment.
“Excuse me.” The voice belonged to a newcomer: a man standing behind Lane in the doorway, dressed and holding a glass of milk and a chocolate chip cookie. With the same hair and eye color as Audrey, he was obviously related. Judging by his age, Sam guessed older brother. He gave Lane and company a curious glance, but said nothing. He placed the cookies on a nightstand and handed the milk to his sister, who smiled, “Thanks, Rob.”
Rob nodded, yawning. He turned to them, “All right, everyone, I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but the show’s over. You can have your answers tomorrow. Right now my sister needs to get some sleep for her test.”
Audrey turned to Sam, “On second thought, I think it might be a crazy night. Maybe you’ll be more comfortable in the living room.”
Inclined to agree, Sam grabbed her pillow and climbed out of the bed. Gently herding everyone out of the room, Rob turned off the light and shut the door to Audrey’s room. He caught Samantha’s eye and smiled warmly, “You have enough blankets and pillows, right?”
Samantha nodded. Now she had more to be envious of. What would it have been like to have a protective older brother like Rob looking after her? She padded into the living area, surreptitiously watching Lane help Al and Harry fix the hide-a-bed. Those three were almost like brothers, she thought, except they were more doing this out of a sense of decency and obligation than fraternal attachment towards her.
“You want the recliner, Sam?”
Sam nodded, climbing into the nest Lane had already made. It was comfy, but, tired as she was, she couldn’t think of sleeping. Not after the scenes she’d just witnessed. It was one thing to know people were bad, to be mistrustful and suspicious. It was another to watch, helpless, as someone bashed a man’s head in for a coat and a crappy radio. Even after all she’d been through, it made Sam sick to her stomach, knowing she lived in a world like that. She wondered if those were the kinds of dreams Audrey had been alluding to earlier. If so, it explained a lot. Sam guessed she didn’t hold the monopoly on crappy childhoods.
“Awake, Samantha?” Lane whispered. It wasn’t really a question. Of course he knew she was awake.
“What do you want?”
Lane got up and came over to the recliner, sitting next to it and talking softly so he wouldn’t wake up his friends: “You OK? You look kind of sick yourself, you know.”
Sam nodded, “I guess nightmares are contagious.”
He placed his hand on her shoulder. The gesture should have been awkward. She didn’t normally like this kind of touching—any kind of touching, actually. But something inside her responded to his touch, the warmth and reassurance that came with it. Something she very quickly squelched.
“Don’t worry,” he went on, “We’re here to protect you.”
Sam tried to cover her laugh with a cough and wound up snorting instead. That snort led to a few others and it took her some seconds to get herself under control.
“What?”
“Don’t get me wrong—I’m grateful for your help. It’s just... you sounded so... I don’t know. Heroic.”
“What’s wrong with heroic?”
Everything. “Nothing.”
Lane fell silent. A silence that said, ‘I don’t believe you, but I don’t want to push the issue.’
“You know, we can’t protect you if we don’t have all the information we need.” Referring, of course, to her family situation.
“It was my business. And I didn’t know you needed
it.”
“You could have told us and let us decide.”
“What was I supposed to say, ‘Oh, by the way, my mom died in a suspicious car accident and my dad is in a mental health facility run by the government’? It’s an awkward subject to breach. Do you think I like having everyone look at me the way you’re looking at me right now?”
Lane looked down, “I guess I can see that. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Believe me, I’m used to reliving bad memories.”
“No, I meant, I’m sorry for what I have to say next.” Lane’s hand snaked up and grabbed hers before she could pull away. His grip was hard and firm. “You heard what Al said. About the number one killer of Talents being car accidents. And your mom’s brakes went out.”
“I’d made the connection,” Sam said shortly.
“What if the Corp has been after you this whole time? What if they killed your mother trying to get to you? Or what if they were trying to kill both of you?”
No. Sam’s stomach pitched. She didn’t believe that. She couldn’t believe that. “They’ve had so many opportunities to kill me after that car accident and they wait until I’m twenty-two and better able to defend myself?” This excuse came easily, since she’d been telling it to herself since the diner. “It doesn’t make any sense. No, no,” Sam continued to deny, “My mom’s death was a terrible accident, and it might be connected to the Talents, but I don’t think it’s connected through me. It’s just too much of a stretch.”
Lane stared at her. In this light, his eyes looked more steel gray than green. He wanted to argue, she could tell. But he left it alone.
“You’re probably right,” Lane said, “But at this rate, we’ll never find out. You should let us help you. All of this mystery doesn’t help anyone.”
“It’s not mystery, it’s privacy, and I never asked for your help.”
“Why can’t you just accept it?” Lane said, “We’re doing our best, you know!”
“I know,” Sam snapped, “That just makes it harder.”
“And how is that?”
“Because—” Sam looked down, unable to finish the sentence. She couldn’t voice her real thoughts. That was because she knew in the end he was going to leave her. That it was dangerous to get accustomed to being taken care of. His ulterior motive would run out and she would be left alone to fend for herself. Just like she always had done. Only it would be a harder, colder world for the absence. She couldn’t have that.
“Sam, look at me.” She did, reluctantly. “Samantha, I’m not going to leave you,” Lane said solemnly, “I promise.”
Her body responded to that, strongly. It didn’t listen to her brain, which was telling her he’d always say the right thing, that she couldn’t trust an empath. The words were what she’d been waiting to hear her whole life.
Kiss me
, Sam thought. No. Wait. Where had that thought come from? Her throat seemed strangely constricted, her face felt flushed. Her brain was flooded with thoughts that she’d been struggling to keep at bay. Why not? Why was she keeping him away? He slept on her doorstep. He drove fourteen hours a day without bitching or complaining or snapping that this was all her fault. And he was smart and funny and above all, he had a good heart.
Why not? Because
, her brain pulled out its trump card,
he’d never do it. He’s too much of a gentleman.
But I’m not!
Her heart screamed.
But that wasn’t her. She wasn’t impulsive. She didn’t kiss guys she’d only known for a few days. She didn’t fall for their lines. She knew better than that. She pulled back.
“I wish I could believe you.”
“Fine,” Lane said through his teeth, “I’ll prove it. I’m keeping that promise. You’ll see.”
He grabbed one of her blankets, moving over to the couch bed, which might as well have been miles away.
For her part, Sam turned her back on him, on what she really wanted.
So I like him
, Samantha thought,
big deal. It happens all the time. Two people, thrown into a stressful situation. They need something to focus on, so they create romance. I won’t let it go to my head
, she decided, pulling her own blanket up to her chin. But as she covertly watched Lane climb in next to Al, fighting for elbow room, she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. It would have been nice to cuddle with something more than a pillow.
Chapter
13
“Good morning, good morning, sunbeams are smiling through. Good morning, good morning, to you!”
How could someone who’d slept as badly as Audrey be so very chipper?
Maybe because her neck wasn’t permanently bent thanks to sleeping in a recliner, Sam thought darkly. She should have taken the pullout and made the boys share the floor. She was the rescuee, after all. That ought to entitle her to something. Sam pulled the covers back over her head, but a delicious scent filled the air. What was that? Waffles?
“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!” This voice was decidedly more masculine, and the enticing smell was enough to convince Samantha to yank an eye open long enough to see Lane standing over the stove cooking.
OK. So maybe she could pull herself out of bed. Tumbling out of the recliner, Sam stumbled on the four short steps to the kitchen where she pulled out a chair and plunked down at the table, yawning.
“Give me one!” Al said, plopping down next to Audrey.
“Beauties before age.” Lane dropped waffles on Sam’s and Audrey’s plates, winking at Sam. And Sam blushed. At a wink. A wink! There was nothing charming about a wink. Winks were for skeezy old men. Sam coughed and busied herself with the waffle, which was quickly joined by, yes, eggs and bacon.
“So I hear I’m not the only one having nightmares,” Audrey said, getting straight to business. “Wanna describe yours?”
Sam complied, giving Audrey a bare-bones description of what she’d seen. For the first time since she’d met her, Audrey looked genuinely puzzled. “Those are...very similar. To my own.”
Sam shrugged. “I’ve never dreamt like that before. They felt real.”
“You’d be surprised just how real.” Audrey said dryly, “Let’s hope you don’t again. It’s not fun.”
Amen to that, Sam thought.
“But will you write what you remember down, later? They sound a little sketchy, but if I have enough clues I might be able to—”
“Are those waffles I smell?” Robert entered the room, rubbing his eyes and Audrey stopped talking, abruptly turning away from his voice.
Well, well, well,
Sam thought,
maybe I’m not the only one with secrets
. And maybe Audrey and her brother weren’t as open with each other as Sam had first assumed.
There weren’t enough chairs. Robert grabbed a plate and perched on the arm of the couch. He cocked his head. “Not that I’m complaining, because I do enjoy real food, but why are you people still here?”
“I told you, they’re some of Scotty’s friends.”
“They look...old to be his friends. Couldn’t they stay at his place?”
“His mom and stepdad are fighting. He didn’t want to subject them. Don’t you have to be at work soon?”
“Yeah,” Robert said, shoveling waffles into his mouth, “But I’m on clerical duty so I’m not in a rush.”
Despite his words, after wolfing down his food Robert grabbed his coat and was out the door within seconds.
“Now that he’s gone and everyone’s had breakfast,” Audrey said cheerily, “we can get down to business. Samantha, it might interest you to know that I’ve decided you are right. You are in grave danger. You should be careful.”
“Really? Thanks,” Sam said.
Audrey ignored the sarcastic tone and went on, “Lane, you, I’m a little mad at you.”
“Why?”
“You didn’t mention they’d sent that pyromaniac after you.”
Lane looked up suddenly, his attention zeroed in on Audrey. Sam wanted to ask him what he’d just sensed, but she knew that would be tactless. She’d ask later. For now, judging by the way Audrey’s spine had tensed, Sam would guess good old-fashioned fear. Well, she supposed it were only natural that Hal would freak her out. Hal freaked most people out. “I didn’t think it mattered,” Lane said.
“It matters,” Audrey said, “Keep away from him. That goes triple for you, Sam. Don’t get cocky. Watch your back.”
“Got it.”
“There’s one more thing. But you’re not going to like it.”
“What?”
“You gotta go see your dad.”
Sam nearly choked on her waffle, gasping until Al came up and hit her on the back. She shook her head, “No, no. We can’t do that, right guys?”
Al, Lane, and Harry chose this moment to keep their mouths shut.
“It’s too far out of our way!” Sam went on, “Besides, he has nothing to do with the Talents. Or me.”
“Oh, sure, the one person you have left in this world who went mysteriously insane years ago probably has very little to offer about your personal history. Especially since transitional Talents of any magnitude have a tendency to go insane.”
Boy, Audrey was even more sarcastic in the morning. Sam wouldn’t have thought that possible. Wait...wait a minute: “Did you say insane?” Sam gasped, glaring at Audrey.