Indelible (18 page)

“I know.” DJ paused. “But the thing about these people is, they bring you in so slowly that you don’t even realize it’s happening.”

“Whatever.”

DJ shook his head. “Remember those pictures I gave you?”

“Yeah.”

“You were being scoped out by recruiters.”

“What?”

“I found those pictures while I was snooping around through their stuff. They’re looking for people who can do what you and Brent and I can do. That’s how I figured out that you two were their top targets. I thought you should be given fair warning so you had time to run for it.” He frowned at me. “Obviously that didn’t work though, since you’re still here.”

“Because you never actually said anything. You were all like ‘Hi, my name is DJ. I’m cryptic’ and then stole the key and left us.” I scowled at him. “Wait a minute, what do you mean they’re looking for more people who can do what you and I and Brent can do?”

DJ looked me right in the eye. “I can project.”

“Astral project?”

He nodded.

“How did you find out you could?”

“After I got accepted here, I met with an unknown benefactor who was going to give me a full ride scholarship for my music.”

“How very Dickens of you.”

He nodded. “Yeah, just call me Pip. Anyway, we were sitting in the music room and he handed me some tea. I drank some and I felt sort of strange and then suddenly I was projecting. It was a test and I passed. They are looking for people who could project and I could.”

“Sounds like they slipped you some black licorice. Been there, done that.” I kicked off my ballet flats. “So you really think your scholarship wasn’t for your music?”

“I think it helped, but that wasn’t my most important talent.”

“Can you project off campus too, or only here?”

He let his bangs fall in his eyes, obscuring them from my view “Only on campus. Being able to project off campus is very rare. It’s practically non-existent.” He paused, moving his bangs so he could meet me fully in the eyes. “Which is what makes you and Brent so special.”

“You’re making us sound like we’re collectable action figures, or . . . some sort of investment.”

“To them you are. Add in Brent’s powers of telekinesis and weather control. And your ability to see ghosts.” He ticked off on his fingers as he mentioned each ability. “How could they not want you? Sometime soon, someone is going to approach you. They’re going to take what’s most important to you and use it to get you to do what they want from you.” He swallowed. “Take it from someone who’s been there. Tell them no.”

“That won’t be a problem,” I stated firmly. “I have no intention of joining a group that’s been spying on me.”

“You say that now, but wait until they crank up the pressure. They know how to get to you. You won’t find it as easy as you think to say no.”

The absolute conviction in his voice made me more frightened than I wanted to admit. “How do they know all of this about us?”

“They have sources, but I don’t know who or what they are.”

I ran a trembling hand through my hair. “Assuming that any of this is true, why warn me about it? You’re already one of them. You’re the enemy, so to speak.”

DJ visibly flinched. “I’m not one of them. I’m warning you because . . . because I owe it to you.” He averted his eyes and loosened his tie.

“About time you admit it. Ever since you took that key, I—”

“Not for that. Okay, for that too, but . . . ” He took a deep breath and pointed at my left eye. “For that.”

I touched the spot above my eye but the only thing I felt was my scar. I looked into DJ’s green eyes and something clicked into place.

Chapter Nine

“
Doogie
?” His glasses were gone, his buckteeth were straightened, and his towheaded hair had darkened to a sandy blonde, but if I looked at him just right, I could see the boy I had known: the love of my second grade life, my first kiss, and the infamous rock thrower. No wonder I’d thought he looked familiar; he’d broken my heart.

He winced and his cheeks flamed red. “Yeah. Although I haven’t been called Doogie since fifth grade.”

“I thought you moved to Seattle!”

“I did. We moved back at the end of school last year. I got a scholarship here because of my music.”

I remembered the hours he had spent in his practice room when we were kids. Melodies popped into my head of songs I had listened to him practice over and over until they were perfect. He had been talented, even then. “You’re still doing that? You must be incredible by now.”

“Yeah, I still play the piano. I picked up the French horn, the drums and the trumpet along the way as well. I also just started the guitar.”

“Impressive.” A pleasant rush of memories swept over me. I had spent hours sitting next to him as he practiced, snacking and talking and laughing with his younger sister. “How’s Amy?”

His grin crumbled. “She’s been better.” He dropped his gaze and drummed his fingers against his leg before looking up again. “Anyway, I wanted to apologize for the rock that caused that,” he said, gesturing towards my eye.

I traced the scar again. “It isn’t very many people who get stoned by the boy who gave them their first kiss.”

He chuckled. “On top of the jungle gym,” he remembered. “Smooth.”

I kicked my legs uncomfortably, not sure where the conversation should go from here.

“I was upset when my mom died,” DJ continued. “The idea of someone speaking to her when I couldn’t was just more than I could handle. I don’t remember picking up the rock or even throwing it. But when I realized what I had done, I went home and cried. Not very manly of me.”

“I don’t remember you crying.” I couldn’t help that I sounded a little hostile. “I remember you threatening that you would do it again.”

He shrugged. “I was lying. I felt like crap about it, but didn’t know how to fix it.”

“An apology would have been a good place to start.”

He scuffed the toe of his shoe on the ground. “I’ve wanted to apologize to you for years, but it would’ve been weird to track you down and cold call you.”

“I guess it’s better late than never.”

He took a deep breath. “Yeah. Anyway, I was wrong. Ghosts do exist and you and your grandma can both see them. I’m sorry.”

After all of these years, the apology had come. He had no way of knowing what that rock had done to me. No way of knowing that it was the beginning of my desire to be normal, of my embarrassment of my grandma and her Waker talents. That the scar I carried was much deeper than a physical one. But hearing his words and being where I was now, I realized I had forgiven him a long time ago. I had wanted to unload all of this on him, but now I could see it had scarred him too. And with that, I felt the old wound finally heal.

I nodded, biting my lip. “It’s okay, Doogie.”

“Call me DJ.”

“It was a long time ago. We were kids. But thank you for the apology.”

“I always wanted to make it up to you. And when I found your file I figured that would be the best way.”

I startled a little at those words. “My file?”

His drumming fingers sped up. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

I frowned. “But you haven’t really told me anything.”

He hunched over, leaning his elbows on his legs. “I know. I can’t.”

I scooted closer to him so he could hear me whisper. “You can tell me right now.”

He shook his head. “I already told you, I’m not able to do it.”

“What can you tell me?” I asked, leaning back again. “Can you tell me who they are?”

He opened his mouth and his lips quivered, his face turned red and finally his shoulders sagged and he shook his head. “I can’t say.”

I sighed in exasperation. “Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t. I signed an agreement, a binding agreement, and it’s like I literally lost the words to talk about them.”

“Okay.” I drew my sweater tight around me. “Let’s try a roundabout way. Can you tell me about the file?”

“In general. It had a list of all the things they know for sure you can do. And another list of stuff they think you can do but they’re not sure about.” He shot me an uneasy glance. “It also contained a list of everything they hope you can do. Things that might benefit them.”

“What—” I began, but stopped as I noticed something awry. The temperature was dropping dramatically in the room, becoming chilly despite the greenhouse-like nature of the pool house. The scent of jasmine mixed with the chlorine in the air. I shot out of my seat, and Taffy crashed to the ground.

My breath was a white puff of air in front of me. “DJ, we have to get out of here.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

The lights started to flicker. Sweat formed on my skin and my palms turned clammy, despite the sudden icy temperature.

DJ shivered and cast a worried glance at the lights. “Is there a ghost here?”

“Yes, it’s Sophia!”

Instinct took over. I slipped my shoes back on and sprinted for the door but it slammed closed in my face.

“Not so fast, little Waker.” Sophia’s voice crackled through the air, echoing around me from every angle.

“NO!” I screamed. I pushed on the door, my sweaty palms slipping off the metal handles. My breath fogged the glass as I re-gripped and tried it again. It didn’t budge. I pounded on the glass with my fists. “Let me out of here!”

I had to get out. The room was shrinking, around me.

“I thought you said she was trapped in a mirror!” DJ called out as her manic laughter continued, distorted as if through a mangled speaker.

“It must be the glass,” I said, mentally cursing myself. “I didn’t realize she’d be able to move from a mirror and into windows.” Her image rippled to life on the glass of the door. Her fingers reached toward me until they collided with the edge of her prison. I fumbled away from the door, smacking into DJ.

Behind me, the pools raged in motion. I spun toward them. The water frothed, forming waves that curled over the edge of the closer, larger pool, spilling onto the concrete floor. A trail of water snaked its way toward me, puddling next to my shoe before climbing up my leg. Tears dripped from my eyes as I shook my leg, trying to throw off the watery manacle. I screamed and DJ threw his arms around me while he tried the handle himself, rattling the door futilely before leading me away from it.

“No, not toward the water,” I managed between gasps. I dug my heels into the ground and fought against his grip. But I couldn’t break free. The room didn’t have enough oxygen and I couldn’t get a deep breath; my head felt fuzzy and my feet were lead. I went limp, my shoes slipped on the slick floor, and I slid through DJ’s arms, landing onto the wet ground. With a sickening thud, my skull bounced off the tile floor. DJ swore as he fell down next to me.

I ignored the pain and pushed myself onto my elbow. Beside me the pool writhed and surged. The water rose into the air, forming a giant rippling wave like the face of a cliff. The tower of water bent, hovering over us before crashing down with such force that my body was slammed flat against the unforgiving ground. Stars burst behind my eyes. I screamed, allowing a rush of water to slither down my throat and up my nose. I sputtered the liquid out of my mouth and tried to sit up, but another wave broke over us again, pounding me flat onto my back on the hard floor and filling my mouth and lungs with water. I was drowning again, but this time on land.

With a detached awareness, I realized that death had returned to reclaim me. By some cruel twist of fate I would die in the same room and by the same method I had before. An unexpected feeling of calm settled though me; part of me had been waiting for this all year.

The water paused; droplets halted in mid air, the tiny spheres revolving in the air. It reminded me of a snow globe that had been shaken violently, but instead of snow, the room swirled with water. I sat up, propping myself onto my hands, and blinked up at the glass room, chlorinated water dripping from my eyelashes. Something glittered along the glass ceiling, catching and reflecting the sunlight. Prisms of crystalline ice spread down the transparent walls, scattering rainbows through the droplets of water suspended in the air.

On the pane of glass directly above me, a single icicle began to form, pulling the droplets of water from the air as it thickened and grew. Forming a beautiful stalactite, the spear of ice lengthened, its icy point sparkling in its descent. Its beauty bewitched me and I watched in awe until it picked up speed, jutting toward me. Its point sharpened and grew nearer, aiming directly between my eyes.

I dropped down onto my back cowering away from its edge that was now so near I couldn’t roll way from it. The icy shard pressed into the center of my chest, but before it could pierce through, a quick hand reached and broke off the tip. DJ threw the pointed shard across the room where it shattered in a burst of ice. I rolled out from underneath the monolithic icicle just as the tip re-grew and stabbed into the ground, the point crushing into fine particles that showered me with cold, stinging pricks on my skin. DJ helped me to my feet and together we hurried toward the door on the other side of the large pool.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Sophia.

“Little Waker, little Waker.”

Almost instinctively, I stopped and looked up. She floated in the ceiling glass above me, rapping on her prison with an almost polite knock. Each tap reverberated down the walls, coming not from one single window, but from every pane.

Tap
. A crack formed on the frozen ceiling, which strained under the weight of the immense stalactite. I couldn’t tell if it was the glass or the top of the gigantic icicle—or both—but something was breaking.

Tap
. The fissure deepened.

The terror built inside me, pressing against my straining nerves. Water dripped down walls, and I shivered. More icicles formed above us, and the tiny water droplets still misting through the air coalesced into snow, which swirled in billowy frozen tufts, the cold chapping my skin.

Tap
. The crack grew longer.

The glass walls started shaking—pulsing and humming like a wine glass about to shatter. The weight of the icy stalactite pulled on the paned ceiling, weakening its integrity. If the ceiling collapsed, the oncoming storm of glass and ice could rip us to shreds, slicing us open with shards of crystal shrapnel. Fright settled around me, threatening to chain me down. Sophia’s image flashed in the glass on every wall, her auburn curls framing a face twisted with hysterical rage.