8. Cheribelle #2
Okay, so not totally back to square one, but a definitive step back. Oh well. It made sense that his feelings wouldn’t be as intense as the first day we met and someone had sent an assassin after his little brother.
“How is Jackson?” I blurted. Shit, maybe I should have used a code word or something. God, sometimes I really was too stupid to live. I guess my ego could never get too big because I would always end up humbling myself all on my own.
But for what it was worth, Paul didn’t react negatively. “He’s going stir-crazy, but he’s fine. You’ll forgive me if I don’t say exactly where he is.”
“In a hidden underground cache your family has had for generations? Not on your estate, but reachable through some sort of hidden passage there?”
Paul did that thing where he didn’t answer immediately, and I could practically hear his mind whir. “I think, in my absence, I forgot about the whole psychic thing.”
“Happens to the best of us.”
He looked over his shoulder at me, and I found that I liked that a whole lot. Was he smirking at me? I was pretty sure he was smirking.
“Are you calling me the best of us?”
“I suppose I meant it in a more metaphorical sense, but if you wanna take it literally, be my guest.”
“I think I’ll choose to believe that the greatest psychic I’ve ever met is complimenting me.”
I flushed at that, trying to avoid the wave of guilt that bubbled up inside of me.
I really hated lying to Paul, but now I was so deep in, what else could I do?
It would be different if I wasn’t helping, but I was, so why throw that all away by explaining things now?
Besides, it wasn’t like I wasn’t an actual oracle, I just had different abilities than everyone thought.
And having ADHD sometimes made me feel literally psychic, anyway.
Also made me feel literally crazy, but we weren’t talking about that.
“You know, I’ve heard it’s healthy to maintain a positive outlook in life. Bright side, glass half full, and all that.” In truth, I’d read three different studies about that when I was stuck in traffic or on the toilet, but few cared about the finer details of where I found my factoids.
“Then I will try to maintain a sunny disposition while we find out who put the lucrative contract on my youngest brother after the murder of two of my family members.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d think Paul was flirting with me. But he couldn’t be, could he? It surely wasn’t the time for a flirtation, and I certainly wasn’t the girl for a high-ranking wolf shifter like him.
“Yeah,” I agreed, keeping my tone as deadpan as possible. “You can’t let those little things in life keep you down. It’s not like double homicide should ruin your whole week.”
I was well aware that would have crossed the line with some people, but as I watched Paul’s emotions play over his face, I got the impression that he appreciated the candor.
He was a straight-laced individual, so maybe my ability to play outside of the confines of what was often socially acceptable made him feel a little less constricted.
The way I figured it, if I could give him any sort of relief with everything he was going through, then I was happy to play the fool. Not that it was hard for me.
“Is that your psychic wisdom pouring through?” Paul shot back, his tone just as even as mine, but he was still smirking slightly.
“While the fates are indeed great tutors, that particular nugget is from my own learning at the School of Hard Knocks.”
“Ah, yes. I imagine it was quite difficult growing up with a supportive, famous mother who had the ability to prevent bad things before they happened. I also imagine it’s quite difficult to be gifted with the same power to continue her legacy and live comfortably.
Truly, you are a martyr many could learn from. ”
It had been so long since I found someone who could keep up with me verbally, and I was getting lost in the rhythm of it.
For once, though, it didn’t feel like I had to worry about it.
“Perhaps those in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, or was it particularly harrowing to have access to the best resources on this planet and never having to worry about bills and such? ”
“Fair enough,” he said, his smile growing bigger. “Although, need I remind you, we are currently investigating the violent murder of my father, who happened to be my last remaining living parent, and my eldest brother?”
“Touché.”
We shared a laugh at that—small and relatively quiet, but genuine. Considering that everything I was doing now was wrapped around deception, I took the authenticity with open arms.
We continued to talk casually all the way to the subway station, however, once we were on our line, we fell quiet.
Perhaps it was being in close proximity to so many people who could overhear, perhaps it was just me trying not to get overstimulated at being in a box of sardines that was hurtling at an insane speed.
While I wouldn’t say I had a phobia about trains, submarines, subways, or any large, fast vehicle, I also wouldn’t say I was expressly comfortable in them.
Especially since they were packed full of layers and layers of emotions of literally thousands of people—some stale and old as a week, whispering to me insistently with their last dregs of staying power; some so bright and brand new I had to shade my eyes from their intensity.
I was, however, less adept at hiding it than I thought, because after a while, Paul leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Fine.” That was a lie, of course. But what else was new?
“Is there a lot of psychic energy here?” he asked.
Not for the first time, I was tempted to confess the reality of my nature and how my power worked. That to me, the relatively quiet car we were in was filled with neon and radical colors, lightning bolts, toxic bubbles, and even the occasional explosion of conflicting feelings.
Instead, I said, “Yeah.”
To my great surprise, his large, intensely warm hands sneaked over to mine, his fingers wrapping around my palm. He gave me several comforting squeezes. It wasn’t quite holding hands, but it was close enough to make my heart flutter.
What, am I in grade school?
He’s not even actually holding my hand!
To think that this explodes into a wolf paw!
~the head bone’s connected to the head bone!~ Shifters are kinda wild, really...
Twenty-seven bones in the average human hand!
Excluding sesamoid bones, of course.
Focus, focus, focus !eight are carpal, five are metacarpal.
Not to be confused with the metatarsals in the feet!
Wow, he has calluses.
I kind of didn’t expect that with him being wolf-royalty.
Wait, was his father, like, a king?
The hand also has fourteen phalanges! ~The knee bone’s connected to the leg bone!~
Is shifter bone structure different?
“Hey, why don’t you just close your eyes and breathe with me for a bit?”
“It’s okay,” I said shakily, trying to quiet my torrential thoughts. But it was kind of like trying to wrangle jumpy water with a colander. Mostly just made a mess and got everything wet.
And not in the fun way.
“I’m used to this kind of stuff,” I finished lamely, even though I really tried to avoid being in crowded areas if I could help it.
“I know, but you’re not alone in it now. I want to help if I can. It’s the least I can do after you saved my brother’s life.”
“I dunno. I get the feeling he might have been able to handle that assassin without being tipped off ahead of time.”
“Perhaps, but perhaps not. Especially since security found weapons laced with wolfsbane in the assassin’s bag. Because of your tip, he didn’t have time to use them.”
“Okay… maybe I helped a little.”
“So humble.”
“Yes, it is one of my greatest character traits.”
The talking worked as a balm, and before I knew it, our stop was lighting up on the old, yellow-aged board on the side runner of the car. “Here’s our exit,” I said gratefully. Much to my dismay, Paul withdrew his hand.
I wasn’t virginal—not by a long shot—but I hadn’t really had time for dating in, what…
years? I’d had my share of flings, sure, but then my mom got sick, and my whole life had shifted, and I hadn’t had time for that anymore.
What, was I supposed to download an app, swipe on a line of digital cardboard cutouts, and waste my precious time going on dates to hope I’d found a catch? Ugh. Not really my scene.
Not when I had my mother’s legacy to preserve.
“So it is,” Paul said with a nod. “We’ve made good time.”
“Let’s hope that trend continues.”
***
“Whoa,” I said, dubiously staring at the derelict building.
It was after sundown by the time we arrived, and I had to say, the dark cover of night suited the decrepit place.
It looked like it might have once been a factory of some sort, maybe even a brewery, but it had long since fallen into disrepair.
Even the light from the streetlamps didn’t seem to touch the dinginess of the area, the dank of it all weighing heavily in the air.
“You know, for a magical, seedy underbelly, I kind of expected a little more traffic,” I said, looking around. I couldn’t even see any emotions lingering about, which seemed especially devoid compared to how eye-burningly fluorescent the subway had been.
“Probably because it’s glamoured,” Paul said.
“Glamoured? Like what vampires do? Aren’t they mostly in Europe?
” That was a mystical creature I’d never met in all my twenty-six years.
Which was kind of crazy, since I was a night owl and my sleep schedule was more akin to playing hopscotch with a rabbit on a pogo stick than following any sort of discernible pattern.