Blind Trust (4 page)

“Oh, Aeron,” Renee said, her voice raspy. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s a napkin,” I pointed out. “But even a napkin can have wings
in the right hands.”

Chapter 4

AS WE SCURRIED back to the car after the most delicious pecan pie
I ever tasted, I could feel an odd quiet in the air circling us in the swirling
snow. It was a weird sensation like dangling over the pit of a massive pool,
suspended in air, hanging, waiting until time caught up. 

Everything was so slow, so detached from me as though I were a
spectator. I watched my own hands fasten the seat belt. My stomach tickled with
tight, nervous pulses. Renee turned the key. A car pulled past.

“I think we should stay put,” I said.

“What?” Renee laughed, not looking at me. “I know it was good
food, Aeron, but we have things to do.”

Cold sweat trickled down my back. The windshield wipers thudded
back and forth. Renee careful, deliberate, focused as we drove down the street.
I couldn’t make out any actual buildings through the thick white, just our
headlamps. Nothing beyond. The shops were still there, the faint glow of lights
confirmed they were only a few feet away. Yet it felt lonely in the car, like
we were cut off from everything.

“It’s not that,” I mumbled, my mouth like a creek bed in summer.
“I just . . .” I didn’t really know how to explain it.

Renee leaned forward onto the wheel as she tried to see through
the snow. “I’ve driven in worse. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Was it? I’d liked the snow far better when I was in the
institution. Watching it from the comfort of a cell made it look a lot less
threatening. Still, the panic settled over me. My stomach gurgled away with
tension and the food.

The lights from the café and town disappeared as we rounded the
bend. My stomach and resolve seemed to have stayed back there too. My shoulders
were so tense that they ached as I gripped my knees. Nothing but the headlamps,
nothing beyond the glow. Just us and silent, ominous white getting thicker and
thicker.  

“Aeron. It’ll be okay.” Renee glanced at me.

“Watch!”

Something bolted out of the trees and right in front of us. Renee
swerved. Something crunched under the car. We slammed to a stop. I smacked my
knees on the dash. My belt yanking my shoulder.

We sat wide-eyed, staring at the road. Both of us were puffing.

“Flash?” Renee asked, her eyes tracking the wooded area in front
of us.

“Yeah.”

Renee turned to me, her eyes wide. “The town is just back there.
We can stay with the car or—”

“Town.” My heart was thundering. That feeling, that odd, detached
feeling hung over me. The white swirled around us and felt . . . threatening .
. . that was the only way I could describe it. The only time I’d felt that
surreal stillness was before the twister back in Oppidum and my whole body was
wired.  

“I just have to get our bags out of the trunk.” She leaned into
the back seat and grabbed our coats. “Come on.”

That sense of stillness, of dangling, of waiting grew heavier as
we got out. Like the clickety-clackety wind up of a roller coaster as you
neared the top. Renee was preoccupied with getting our supplies from the trunk
as I looked around at the roadside. Icy cold. Pure drifting white. Dark
silhouettes of the trees on the side that sloped down the mountain. On the
other side was a solid wall of rock. The snowfall got heavier. Threatening.
Icy. Cold.

I didn’t get why I felt that way. I tried to shake it off, tried
to concentrate on Renee but I couldn’t.

“Here’s yours.” Renee handed me my bag.

I looked up at the sheer face of stone. The winding, climbing,
suspended
click, clack, click
.

“Stupid thing is stuck. I have—” Renee yelped.

I reached out. I just missed Renee’s outstretched hand as she
stumbled and fell backward onto her butt.

“If only CIG could see me now,” she muttered. Then she
half-laughed, half-sobbed. I could see pain and fear rippling around her as
tears spilled over down her cheeks.

She sat there laughing and crying all at the same time. I dropped
to my knees beside her, remembering that once she had helped me when I’d
reacted in the same way.

All the while the building . . . something . . . wound up and up. 

“Just take in deep breaths. It’ll be okay. I’m here, okay.” I
wrapped her up in a hug as the biting cold snapped at my fingertips. “I got
you.”

“You must think I’ve lost it,” she murmured into my shoulder.

“I know better,” I answered, glancing out at the wall of white all
around us. I had to figure out how I could get her back into the car or to the
town before we froze to death. “You told me once that you had scars just like
me. I’m guessing something rubbed them raw.”

Renee clung to me, which gave me all the answer I needed.

“You ain’t on your own no more,” I said, ignoring the pounding in
my chest. Panic rippled up and down my arms. “I can pack a punch when I need
to.”

“You’re just a big ball of mush.”

The teasing made me smile and her sobs calmed. I started to pull
her to her feet but a howling gust of wind nearly smacked me over. I looked up.

Click, clack, click
. . . at the summit . . . And freefall.

My body primed with so much adrenaline that I must have squeezed
Renee in my angst.

“What?” She asked. “What’s wrong.”

Thunder, deafening, crashing, rolling, crushing, bursting, faster,
faster, down and down, building, building, building . . .

“Move!”

I hauled Renee up into my arms. She squealed but I burst into a
run. My feet unsteady. The clumps of white thick, wet, cold. I pushed harder.
My head light. Round the corner was safety. But it looked so much further.

“Aeron, what’s wrong.”

My sole focus was on fleeing. The flashes pounded through me.

Rumble, thunder, rolling, crushing, crashing, cracking, faster,
faster.

“Aeron.” Renee struggled in my arms, trying to get me to let her
go. I held on. Followed what road I could see. The surface like glass
underneath the blanketed cover.

“Can’t . . . trust me . . .” I panted. My heart hammered. My legs
screamed with the effort. My knees smacked the hard ground each time I slid.
She searched my face as I pushed on in desperation. She wanted an answer and it
came in a monstrous rumble.

“Oh, God,” Renee said, eyes wide. “We have to move.” She wriggled
free of my grasp and started to sprint, clutching my hand as she did so.

The thunder grew, its deafening roar building, animals’ warning
calls filled the air. We ran. Heart thumping. Legs pumping. Lungs screaming.
Run. Run. Run.

We rounded the bend as a mighty crash rattled through my entire
body. I rammed Renee to the ground. I covered her up as best I could as a mass
of white burst over the rock face and plummeted down the mountain. The
avalanche close enough that its devastating wave took out the trees only a couple
of feet away from where we lay in a panting heap.

My ears were still ringing as the rumble grew fainter, the run
continuing on its path. My throat felt like someone was trying to strangle me.
I was wheezing so hard I felt like I’d pass out at any minute.

“Okay?” I managed, dragging myself to my knees.

Renee’s wide eyes met mine as she rolled over. “Some sensing.”

“Nan,” I said, thinking back to the blustery warning.

We knelt there, our chests heaving. Our breath puffing out smoky
clouds.

Renee sat staring at me. “Go Nan.”

We turned and stared at the mound of snow behind us. Renee punched
my arm. “What do you think you were doing shielding me from the snow?”

I rubbed my arm, blinking in the direction of where we had been in
the car only moments before. “I’m bigger than you. It made sense.”

I turned to look at her. The smile in her eyes contradicted her
folded arms. “Lilia would have been so pleased that I got her heir squashed.”

“We’re fine.” I shivered. I felt like someone was trying to shake
my skin from my bones. Renee wasn’t fairing a lot better and her skin looked as
though someone had sculpted her out of milk.

“Town,” she managed through her chattering teeth.

I nodded and we picked ourselves up. We followed what road we
could see back toward the welcoming lights. I hadn’t ever been so happy to see
civilization before. We stumbled our way down the icy sidewalk. The café was
thankfully still open and the second we stepped inside looking like human
icebergs, the waitress came dashing over to us.

“What happened?” she asked and without giving us time to answer
turned to a man sitting on a barstool. “Earl. Get some hot chocolate, towels,
the kit.”

He nodded and hurried into a back room.

“What happened?” she asked again, fussing over a cut on Renee’s
eyebrow.

“We got caught in an avalanche,” Renee answered.

The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh, no.” She pulled us over to a
corner, ushered us to sit down, and set two cups of hot chocolate in front of
us.

I gripped mine just to get some feeling back in my stinging paws.
The cuts and scrapes from slamming into the ground at full tilt were starting
to make themselves known.

“Drink up,” the woman urged. “Drink . . . Wrap these around you.”
She threw us the towels. “Once you’re warmed. Earl and I will drop you at the
cabin. No buts, you’ll stay there till you’re recovered.”

For the second time in one evening, the woman had stunned me into
gawping at her.

Thankfully, Renee took over. “Are you sure? Our car is . . . well
. . . gone and I’ll need to tell someone.”

“Of course. I’m Martha and this is Earl, my husband. We own
holiday cabins but there are a couple free.” She smiled at us, making me feel
like Nan was shining in her eyes. “You can stay as long as you need.”

“I’m Serena,” Renee answered. “Doctor Serena Llys and this is . .
. Aeron.”

I met her eyes, thanking her for not lumbering me with another
name. I would end up tying myself in knots.

“We work in Serenity Hills back in Missouri,” she continued. “You
heard of it?”

Martha shook her head and Renee’s aura pulsed with relief.

“On our way to a conference . . . I am the keynote speaker . . . I
really should try and let someone know.”

“Sheriff McKinley will be in his office first thing,” Martha
answered. “Till then there’s nothing to be done but warming and sleeping.”

I looked at Renee. I knew that sounded appealing to me. I hoped
she would feel the same.

“Thank you,” Renee said.

I felt a gush of relief whoosh out of my mouth at her words. Thank
heavens.

“You’re welcome.” Martha smiled and tapped the front of her clean
apron.

Even the motif of the crossed hammer and ski was spotless. I
didn’t get how, as she’d been buzzing around all evening. I’d noticed earlier
she cooked too but nope, it was immaculate. She beamed at me with twinkling
pale blue eyes, crinkled at the corners like she laughed freely. A deep frown
line was etched in her forehead like she laughed
in spite
of the
challenges that had been thrown at her. I couldn’t help gawp at her. She was so
much like Nan in her energy. A matriarch, a real textbook mom who knew how to
darn a sock or bake a pie. Dumb as it was, just being around Martha made me
feel secure and like I didn’t have to have all the answers.

I guessed she knew I needed her reassurance as she squeezed my
arm. “You’re safe here, honey. Some pie will cheer you right up.”

We watched Martha hurry away and I tried to shake off the sickly,
weak feeling that was now drenching me with sweat. I hated visions. I hated
flashes. I weren’t too keen on snow right now either. Pie sounded perfect to fix
that.

Renee bit her lip, at least that’s what I thought until I saw it
bleeding.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Aeron, you just saved my life . . . again. A couple of scratches
are the least of my worries.” She lifted shaking fingers to the cut on her
forehead. “Doesn’t really help to think what would have happened if you
hadn’t—”

“No,” I said to stop her before she went down that road. She’d
told me back in Oppidum how her father and her brother had died out on a
mountain in bad weather. “Don’t do that.” I squeezed her shoulder once more.
“If it wasn’t for you. Who knows what would have happened to me. We’re a team,
right?”

She nodded, her jaw still trembling. “Right.”

“Good ’cause if you ain’t in the mood to finish your pie, I’m more
than willing to pitch in.”

Renee shook her head, the glimmer of a smile on the corners of her
lips. “You and that stomach of yours, Lorelei. You and that stomach.”