Chapter Seventeen #2
“You can’t stop it, can you? When you touch someone, you see,” her mother said.
“Not always. And I’m getting some control now.” Daniel looked from Mel to her mother. “I’m just not used to talking about this,” he said.
“Another way you can tell if someone has an authentic talent,” her mother said, looking at Mel. “They’re reluctant to talk about it and even more reluctant to use it.”
Daniel took a deep breath. “Actually, this whole thing is a new development. I mean…” He paused, having trouble finding the words.
“Until a few months ago, I only had dreams about my future, from my perspective. Then suddenly I was having visions whenever I touched someone. Visions of their future, from their perspective. That’s… ”
He didn’t want to say the word, but Mel could sense it. Overwhelming. She wondered what exactly he had seen all those times he touched her.
“Does it hurt when you see?” her mother asked again.
“It used to, but I recently learned that I shouldn’t fight the visions.” He looked at Mel. “Until I learned to accept them, every time I had a vision, it would hurt.”
“He got fierce headaches whenever he did,” Mel explained. “Even his vision got blurry.” She turned to Daniel. “But what happened on the porch that night. That helped?”
“You remember that?”
“You gaslit me into thinking it was a dream, you jerk.” How could I forget it when my burns and blisters disappear and an unborn child yanks me along for a vision? “But when someone borrows my talento and uses it, I remember, Uncle Danny.”
“Borrows—?” Daniel sputtered. “Talento? What talent?”
Her dad came in from the balcony. “You were planning to leave with Mel right away, correct?”
Daniel stood. “Yes, sir. I have a private jet waiting over in Ennis.”
Mel was on her feet. “A private—”
“Good. That’s only a half hour from here.” He turned to Mel. “Sweetheart, you need to go. Now.”
Anxiety. Fear. Mel was almost overwhelmed by his emotions. “Why? What did they say?”
“A man with an accent was nosing around after the fire. Trying to find out where you had gone. All the office had was your cell number, but…” He looked stricken. “He found out that we lived in the park too, and persuaded Mr. Beesom to tell them what we do and where we were.”
Mel looked at Daniel. “Should Mom and Dad leave too?”
“I’m handling that,” her dad said. “I’m taking care of things with the festival folks, and then we’ll be out of here until this blows over.
I’ve got friends up the road where we can hook up the RV for a bit.
” He hugged her tight and her mom joined them, squeezing them both protectively.
She’d never appreciated her parents more.
“I guess I better go pack. Again.” Mel sighed. “But I never really unpack, so it will only take a sec.”
“My car is out in the back of beyond,” Daniel said. “Security wouldn’t let me park anywhere close.”
“Mel, I’ll go with you,” her dad said. “Trish, you guide Daniel in through the gauntlet to the RV. But before you leave, I’d like you to see if Mel’s future has changed,” her dad said.
Daniel’s jaw clenched.
“Dad, you can’t just ask him to turn it on whenever,” Mel said. “It’s like asking someone to stick their hand in a garbage disposal with a toddler at the switch. He’s seen some pretty horrible things.”
Daniel’s expression eased into an almost smile. “Yeah, that’s pretty accurate. But it’s okay. I need to know what happens too.”
“Whatever it is, remember it hasn’t happened yet,” Mel said. “We can change it, just like Italy.”
She held out her hand, and Daniel took it. Her breath caught at the look on his face. Longing. She wondered if he wished, as she did, that they could simply touch.
His expression went blank.
She was holding Daniel’s hand, and she relished the feeling, even if it was only for a moment.
Desire. It ran through her as if she were breathing it. She raised her other hand to her lips. She could almost feel Daniel’s mouth on hers, and warmth bubbled through her veins and shivered along her skin. She closed her eyes and caught her breath.
“Scudo. Scudo.” That was her dad’s signal to put up her shield. Good grief, her dad was standing there watching her breathing quicken as she touched her lips.
Pulling her hand free didn’t help. She was wide open to Daniel as he opened his eyes. Longing. Desire. The feeling swept through her and right on out to everyone around her.
“Cavolo!” Mel muttered and yanked up her shield.
She winced as her father gave a rather embarrassed look and coughed. “Well?”
Daniel blinked. “No guy with a gun,” he said. “Mel’s fine. This is gonna work. If they’re here, we’re going to avoid them.”
Her dad cleared his throat. “Good.”
Daniel looked around at all of them, a bit dazed. Confusion. Embarrassment.
“Mel, are you all right with all of this? Flying home to the mountain with me?”
“I’m a little shaken up, but with you”—she looked at Daniel—“and your family on my side, what can go wrong? Even if it does, you’ll see it first, right?” She smiled and put everything she had into it.
“Yeah,” Daniel said. She had a feeling he didn’t believe her bravado one bit.
She put her fists on her hips. “And besides, I have to go, if only to deliver a lecture on the issues of traveling by private jet while I’m on a private jet.”
They all laughed at that, which was what Mel had wanted.
Mel’s reaction to the tiny jet was anything but censure.
“This is amazing,” she said as she relaxed into the cushy leather seat and looked around the cabin.
“It is. The airline is pulling out all the stops, trying to get the foundation to do some kind of timeshare thing. Nick’s considering it.
” Daniel glanced out the cabin window at the tiny terminal, wondering if he would finally relax when they actually took off.
He had kept an eye on their rearview mirror all the way to the airport and hadn’t seen anything that worried him… yet.
“I want to hear more about them. The Firefly Foundation.” Mel leaned over to rummage around in her backpack. “I’ve heard the story of the fireflies, now I want to know why your symbol is fireflies in a mason jar.”
“Escaping a mason jar,” Daniel corrected, but didn’t elaborate.
He watched as the airport terminal receded and they accelerated down the runway.
Mel sucked in a breath as the jet rose swiftly into the air.
The seating had been configured so they could face each other.
For a long moment, she was focused on the landscape below.
“So, this foundation is all about rescuing fireflies? Not sure why that would require a private jet.” She looked at him. “And don’t think you’ve escaped my lecture.”
“Sometimes speed is imperative. Am I being interviewed, Ms. Noblett?” he asked.
She made a point of folding her arms. “Not for publication, no.”
“Well, save the lecture for Nick. This was his idea.” He looked around the cabin. The door to the cockpit was locked, and this company prided themselves on the privacy of their passengers. “And I think turnabout is fair play.”
“What? Are you going to interview me?”
“I want to know what this talento is my unborn niece borrowed from you,” he said.
She didn’t even blink. “I was waiting for the right time to tell you. Then I was…afraid to tell you.” She bit her lip. “I’m still am.”
“You’re afraid to tell me? After—”
Mel leaned forward. “I know. You risked a lot telling my parents about your ability. I understand that.” She shook her head. “It’s not that kind of risk I’m worried about. It’s more personal. It’s about you trusting me.”
He frowned. “But I’ve—”
“Not trusting me with a secret. Trusting me not to use this to manipulate you.”
Daniel forged ahead. “What is your gift, Mel?”
“I’m an empath,” she said. “A tele-empath.”
“A tele-empath?” he said. “Empath I get, but what—”
“Like this,” Mel said.
Suddenly he felt a flood of pride and elation, like champagne bubbles in his blood.
Then there was amusement, so much that a chuckle escaped before he clamped his mouth shut.
And finally there was relief, as if there was nothing to worry about ever again.
Then it was all gone. Mel smiled at him, her eyes the color of morning fog on the mountain.
He remembered those moments in Italy when everyone around her was smiling at the same time.
And then there was how she had leaned on Jamie’s shoulder and the youngster’s worries had spilled out.
Then there had been the warm feelings of love and assurance that had filled him during his painful vision on the porch.
Lily had taken Mel along to use her gift.
“You…” he started, but didn’t know how to finish.
“I don’t just read emotions. I can send as well.
It started when I was about seven. I couldn’t stop it then.
Mom and Dad had a lot of problems, but they figured it out and taught me how to create a shield, or scudo as we called it.
My dad preferred for me to use Italian words for these things, to separate them from my everyday life. ”
She spoke quickly, as if afraid he would escape before she could finish, but it wasn’t as if he could bolt for the door.
“They taught me the right way to use my talento d’empatia, which is to say rarely, and only to protect myself or help someone else.
Even then, I’d slip up now and again, like when I’m tired or ill or frightened, or on a damn plane full of people.
” She paused and looked around in relief.
“Or if someone surprises me. Shielding isn’t perfect, and it isn’t something I can do for a long time… or when I’m asleep.”
He remembered his strange, dreamless naps in Italy when she had said something about a Reverse Sleeping Beauty. “Did you put me to sleep?”