The Gifted Ones: A Reader (6 page)

Read The Gifted Ones: A Reader Online

Authors: Maria Elizabeth Romana

Tags: #Fiction

In a second, Joe’s shoulders dropped, he lowered his hand, and he proceeded to unlock and open the door. Angel stepped aside and made way for a member of the hotel staff to enter the room. The young man pushed in a cart loaded down with every imaginable breakfast food—pancakes, French toast, eggs, sausage, bacon, fruit, muffins, sweet rolls, orange juice, and coffee.

“We haven’t got time for this—” Grace started.

But Angel was already diving in. She grabbed a sweet roll off the cart before it even stopped rolling, and waved a hand towards Grace and Ellie. “Don’t be silly, chicas. Come on, eat! I got enough for everybody. I think.” With that, she used her other hand to snatch up a strip of bacon and stuffed it in her mouth with the first bite of the sweet roll. “Mmm, perfect. Crispy, but not burnt.”

The mixture of sweet and savory odors caught Ellie’s attention. She abandoned Grace and joined Angel in snatching food off the cart with her bare hands. “Yum! This is awesome!”

Grace just sighed. Clearly, she had lost this battle. She would have to trust Joe that they were safe, at least for now. She took a few hesitating steps toward the center of the room, but the aching in her ribs made it difficult to move. Joe noticed, dashed over, and wrapped his arm around her, supporting her weight until she could settle on the couch. “What can I get for you, Gracie?”

She tilted her head slightly as she looked up at him. Yes, it had been years since she’d last seen her sister’s One True Love, and the years were starting to show on him, but the kind and gentle nature that Grace remembered, and that Lucy had fallen so hard for, were still there. She squeezed his hand in appreciation. “Just some coffee, Joe. Just coffee.”

 

# # #

 

“Arch.”

Archer Orucov looked up from the spacious desk in his home office as the three younger men entered the room. Although his son was by no means small, he was dwarfed by the two Defenders that flanked him. Wyatt, with his dirty blond hair, fair skin, and boyish features, could almost pass for a sibling, if it weren’t for the fact that he towered over Aiden by several inches. The long, lanky frame worked to Wyatt’s advantage most of the time. His opponents were frequently fooled by his carefree appearance, and thus, inadequately prepared for the speed and force of his fists. Willie, on the other hand, never surprised anyone with his power. At something over 300 pounds, his linebacker build, close-shaven head, piercing black eyes, and chocolate brown skin sent even bigger men racing from the room. What they didn’t know, of course, was that Willie’s greatest weapon was his intellect.

Archer took a moment, making eye contact briefly with each of them before he spoke. He made no attempt to stifle his displeasure as he settled back into his chair. “I don’t need a recap, gentlemen. Just tell me what you found at the house.”

Willie took a step forward, giving Archer a better view of the split in his lower lip. When he opened his mouth to speak, however, Archer couldn’t help but react to the broken tooth; he rolled his eyes and waited for the report. “Nothing, Arch. The place was clean. Most of the personal effects were gone or destroyed. No papers, no tech…nothing but some old clothes, shoes, and toiletries.”

Wyatt stood up a little straighter before adding his two cents, “Yeah, we must’ve just missed them. I swear, the shredder was still hot when we walked in.” He grimaced slightly and massaged a place on his rib cage, where apparently, he’d taken on some damage.

Aiden approached the desk and stuck out his hand. “I did find this, though, stuck in one of the books. I thought you might want it.”

Archer took an old snapshot from Aiden’s hand and brought it closer. Lucy. He recognized her immediately, despite the fading colors and wrinkled paper. She looked younger than when Archer had known her, and happier than he’d ever seen her, laughing playfully with her photographer. He wondered who that might have been.

He looked back up at Aiden. “Thank you, Aiden. I appreciate this.” He set the print down in the center of his blotter, and then shifted his attention to the two larger men. He dismissed them wordlessly with a brief wave of his hand.

When they had closed the door behind them, he invited Aiden to sit in one of the chairs facing the desk. “I want you to understand something. No one blames you for what happened in Atlanta. You did exactly what you needed to do. No one could have anticipated the helicopter aunt calling in the troops over a trip to the pizzeria.” Archer pursed his lips a moment and shook his head. He’d always heard Lucy’s sister lacked the gene, but he wasn’t so sure. Maybe the little witch had some kind of Gift they weren’t aware of—like clairvoyance or precognition. “Willie and Wyatt, on the other hand…” He shook his head in disgust, opting not to express his feelings aloud.

But Aiden jumped to their defense, “It wasn’t their fault! That chick in the leather…man, she just came outta nowhere. It was like Spiderman or The Flash or—”

Archer sighed, “I know. It was Angel.”

“Angel?”

“Angel Espinoza. She’s one of theirs.” Almost to himself, he mumbled, “Only wish I had found her first.” He looked at Aiden. “She’s the single most talented hand-to-hand combat Defender…ever.”

“She is? I mean, she was pretty amazing, but she doesn’t look that tough, and she barely touched Willie and Wyatt.”

“She barely touched them, because she didn’t want to break a nail. They knew they were catching us off guard; they knew we weren’t going to fight to the death or risk exposure over one kid. And don’t let her size or shape fool you. I’ve seen her in action. Her skill isn’t so much in brute force as it is speed and cunning. That girl knows your next move before you do. A guy like Willie can pack hundreds of pounds of force with one fist, but Angel would just duck out of the way. She’s a machine; they’ve developed her into this incredible combination of mental acuity and physical prowess.” Archer narrowed his eyes a moment. “I would love to know how they did it.”

He shook off the wistful daydream and refocused on Aiden. “Point is, Aiden, I was pleased with your execution of the task. You gained her trust, you improvised and manipulated the situation, and you even managed to sedate her without killing her. A chip off the old block.” A wicked little smile crossed Archer’s lips. “Probably pissed off Joe Manning to no end.”

“Joe who?”

“Never mind.” Archer nodded at Aiden. “And don’t worry. We’ll get another chance.” Then he stood up. “Are you ready for more?”

The young man jumped up. “Absolutely.”

“Good. Go get cleaned up. Put on a suit and a tie. We’re going on a little trip.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four: Disneyland

 

“Yes, yes, we’ll be there in time for dinner, Gran. Well, I’m sorry, we didn’t want to take any chances. We’ve been to New Mexico, Saskatchewan, and Michigan already. But we’re almost home now. We’ll see you soon, okay?”

After hanging up with Granny, Joe returned to the main cabin of the plane. He’d left to make the call, because he didn’t want to wake up the girls, and he didn’t want anything he said to ruffle Grace’s feathers. She hadn’t changed position since the plane took off from Fort Dodge. She was still staring out the tiny airplane window, lost in thought, while both Ellie and Angel were crashed out on the leather loungers. They were apparently exhausted, either from the craziness of the previous night or from the carbohydrate-induced comas of their breakfast this morning. Joe had long since given up trying to counsel Angel in her dietary choices, and he expected he’d get no further with his newest charge. The younger ladies had even browbeaten him into trying one of the French pastries that morning.

Grace was the only one who had not joined in the indulgence, sticking to her black coffee and toast. Joe stole a sidelong glance at her, as he returned to his seat. It had been about ten years since he’d last seen her, but who would guess? She looked much the same as she had back then, which was quite different from her older sister. Lucy was tall and thin as a reed, with fair skin and strawberry-blonde hair, while Grace had a rosy complexion, dark, almost auburn hair, and a softer figure. But that’s where the softness ended—Grace’s whole demeanor smacked of a no-nonsense fifth-grade teacher, complete with eyes in the back of her head. Even when she was still in high school, it had seemed as though Grace was the mature elder sibling, and Lucy, the carefree wild child.

As if reading his thoughts, Grace turned toward him. “Joe, I hope I don’t seem ungrateful. I truly appreciate everything you’re doing for Ellie and me.”

“I know, Grace. We all just want what’s best for Ellie.”

She sighed, and turned back toward the window. “I hope we’re doing the right thing. This is not what I wanted for Ellie. I wanted her to have a normal life. I didn’t want her to grow up feeling like she’s weird or different, or even special…just normal. Is that so wrong?”

Joe held his tongue. He had never agreed with Grace’s approach to raising Ellie. Ellie
was
special, and why shouldn’t she know that? But it wasn’t his call. Much as he might have liked it to be, it wasn’t his call. “Gracie, I—”

“Gracie?” She faced him again, allowing a smile to escape her lips. “No one’s called me Gracie in…well, since Lucy died.”

“No one?” Joe grinned. “What kind of people you been hanging around with down there in Atlanta?”

“The wrong sort, I suppose, or maybe I just never gave them a chance.” She shrugged. “I never really got close to anybody. I never felt like I knew who to trust.”

His tone was more serious, “I’m sorry, Grace. I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve done a lot of things differently.”

“Joe, don’t. You know I wouldn’t have let you. I wanted to do things my way. I wanted to give Ellie that safe, normal life. I would’ve pushed you away if you’d tried.”

“And maybe
I
wouldn’t have let you. Maybe…” He softened his voice, “Maybe if I’d done things differently, I wouldn’t have lost all three of you.”

Grace reached over and laid her hand on his. “You haven’t lost us, Joe. And you never lost my sister. You know she loved you. Always. Nothing that happened could ever change that.”

He shifted his gaze out the window nearest him, pretending to study the mountain range they were passing over. He fought the gnawing ball of pain that rose in his throat, then finally grumbled a response, “Thanks for saying that, Grace.”

Okay, he needed to change the subject. He reached down next to his seat, picked up his bag, and moved over to the the long couch that lined that side of the plane, bringing him close to Grace. He motioned toward the bruise on the side of her face. “Can I at least help you with that?”

Grace glanced across the cabin to where Ellie was sleeping, then nodded at Joe. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’d hate meeting everybody with a black and blue face.”

He dug around in his bag and came up with a small rectangular package. He tore it open and removed a lumpy-looking blue cloth. He held it up, explaining, “New creation from that kid Spencer. Works like a charm. See, it helps to draw the energy—” He caught himself babbling. “Uh, never mind. Just relax, Grace. Lean back and close your eyes.” Once she was in a more comfortable position, he spread a white salve gently on her bruised face, then laid the lumpy cloth over it. He placed one of his hands on top of that, and the other along the side of her neck to keep her head steady. “Grace, you’re not relaxing.”

She peeked out at him. “Sorry, Joe. It’s just…it’s been a long time…”

“A long time since a man has tried to heal you?”

“No. A long time since a man has touched me, period.” They both laughed at that, Grace wincing from the pain as she did so, and then they tried it again.

Joe talked her through the ritual, as he did with all his patients, reminding her to focus all her healing energy on the injured spot, to increase the blood flow to the area, and to chase away the inflammation and swelling. Then they did the same thing with her bruised ribs. When they were done, she boosted herself back into an upright position again. “Better?” he asked.

Her eyes looked soft and drowsy. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Thank you, Joe.”

“Glad to help. Hopefully, you’ll lose some of that awful color by the time we get there.” He wondered if he should return to his seat, if it would make her feel uncomfortable for him to stay so close. He wanted to stay close. He hadn’t realized how much he missed her, too, until he was with her again.

Before he could make up his mind, something caught his eye out the window. He pointed. “Hey, look, remember the old mountain tunnel?”

“The tunnel! Omigosh, I forgot about the tunnel.” Grace laughed. “When I was little, I thought this place was better than Disney. Disney’s just make-believe; Granny’s farm is real.”

“You’ll be impressed with all the stuff that’s been added, and some of the improvements we’ve made, especially to the security features. Oh, and you’ll love our new cook. Some famous chef from Jamaica. He can turn a pile of rocks into a gourmet meal. I think I’ve gained ten pounds since he settled in with us.”

“Joe…”

He ignored the cautionary tone in her voice and ran right over her. “And we’ve got this great room in the back corner of the house where Margo Wilcox used to stay. It’s got a beautiful view of the pasture, and the most charming—”

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