elemental 03 - whitecap (7 page)

“She needs quiet, and we thought a private room would be best,” the doctor said quietly. “Her insurance will cover it.” He spoke as if he had read her mind.

Aira nodded and slipped into the room, giving the doctor a glance to tell him not to follow her. She closed the door behind her almost silently, hoping in the delay her grandmother had fallen asleep.

“Girl,” she heard a rusty, hoarse voice say. Aira turned and came further into the room; her grandmother was reclined in a bed, an oxygen tube in her nose and an IV inserted. The constant beep-beep-beep of a heart monitor echoed through the room. Air thought irreverently, if she were in her grandmother’s position, the monitor would disturb her resting plenty. She approached the bed and saw what human eyes couldn’t see—the woman on the bed was utterly glowing, luminous from head to toe, the energy in her shining through shockingly thin skin, radiating through the blankets that covered her. Aira pulled up a chair and sat down at her grandmother’s side, taking a deep breath to suppress the tears she felt welling up.

“Yep, they finally brought me to you,” Aira said, trying to sound cheery. Her grandmother’s vivid green eyes were brighter than ever, but it was obvious something was very, very wrong—she was utterly frail, and the heart monitor occasionally stuttered, before reasserting its normal rhythm. 

“I don’t have any time left to tell you… what I need to say. Take my hand.” Aira’s grandmother reached out with the hand that didn’t have an IV in it, and Aira took it, holding it firmly, but not enough to hurt. “Open… your mind,” the older woman rasped. 

Aira, trembling slightly with fear and grief, did as she was told, closing her eyes. She was not the psychic her grandmother was, but she had learned tactics for divination and telepathy, the small talents her air alignment provided her. As she opened her mind, Aira felt a trickle, and then a flood, a sensation like ice cold water running over her and through her. She gasped, almost dropping her grandmother’s hand in surprise; but the older woman gripped her tightly, keeping her locked in place. Aira bit her lips together to stifle the sound of shock and pain that threatened to rise up as the flood became a torrent, washing through her mind and body.
I can’t give you my alignment…you are meant for air…but I can give you the strength…I can give you what little I have left…Aira, little girl, I’ve always loved you…I will miss you…you are my pride…my heir…
Aira reeled as power surged through her—not elemental air, but something colder, potent and unceasing, washing through her as inexorably as the ocean and as cold as a glacier. 

She never knew how long the transfer had taken—time lost all significance as she held her mind open, absorbing everything her grandmother was giving her. Aira caught fleeting glimpses that had to be memories, knowledge whispered in the deepest recesses of her mind, secrets and data, wisdom and more. She realized her grandmother was emptying her mind into hers—that while Aira would never have the power her grandmother possessed, she was receiving a last gift from the woman who had cared for her so much: knowledge that had no words, strength that was independent of power. As Aira swam back into full consciousness, she found that her Grandmother had entered into a light sleep, her grip relaxing. 

Aira left the room quietly, informing the nurse she was done—and her grandmother was sleeping. She felt oddly calm as she walked through the halls leading into the waiting room. She knew, from the torrent of watery knowledge her grandmother had given her, it would not be long. She quietly told the few members of her family who were present who looked at her stunned for only a moment before nodding, accepting her word as truth. 

Aira found herself sitting down numbly, patiently, between Aiden and Dylan. “I think I’d like to eat something and take my medicine,” she said quietly, looking at both men. Dylan stood quickly.

“I’ll take you to the cafeteria; Aiden can collect your medicine.” Aira nodded, still taking in everything she had received from the woman she loved and admired so much. She mindlessly let herself be led down hallways and seated in a chair as food was placed in front of her. She ate without knowing, swallowed pills without being aware, and fell asleep curled up in a pair of chairs in the waiting room, Aiden’s thick, oversized sweater draped over her. Aira came awake suddenly with a deep chill, her eyes opening and all the haze of the pain medication gone in an instant; she knew the instant she opened her eyes why she was awake. When the doctor came to tell her that it had happened so quickly, her grandmother had been fine… and then she hadn’t. Aira nodded, feeling her Grandmother’s instinct to compassion welling inside of her. The man was distraught—utterly confused, angry, and sad to have to tell her such horrible news. 

“I understand doctor,” she said quietly, catching his gaze. She called up the persuasive ability she had and pushed out at his mind with it, saying, “You did everything you could. You have nothing to blame yourself for. You should go have something to eat.” The doctor looked at her in confusion for a moment before nodding. 

“I’m going to go have something to eat—I apologize. I just haven’t eaten all day.” Aira smiled softly.

“Go. I appreciate you letting me know.” The doctor left quickly and Aira sat down in one of the chairs she had used as a makeshift bed, sighing long and low. The rain continued to pound outside, accompanied by gusting winds and shattering lightning that somehow managed to avoid all power grids attached to the hospital.

C
HAPTER
7

AIRA WOKE UP THE MORNING after her grandmother’s funeral screaming, her heart pounding, and her mouth dry. The sensations in her body were not like the power surges from her elemental transition into full power; instead she felt pain lancing up from her back, ricocheting through her chest. Her injury had been aggravated by her insistence on standing in heels through the graveside service, while the rain poured. The storm that came with her grandmother’s passing had only abated in the evening after her funeral, leaving everything saturated and making difficult work for her pallbearers. Aira’s cousin presided over the ceremony, using dirt from the most prized of Lorene’s gardens to cast over the casket for the first handful. Aira had been submerged in a fervor of arrangements from the night of her grandmother’s passing; decisions to be made, family members to be contacted, legal details to see to. She hadn’t slept in the three days between the death and the burial. 

Aiden and Dylan had kept an uneasy vigil, staying up with her, making sure she managed to eat in spite of her insistence that nothing had any flavor. They kept away the most annoying of her relatives, suggesting tasks that would take them away from the house, or otherwise getting rid of them—whether they were polite about it or not. Aira had finally come home, soaking wet, and fell into her bed at her grandmother’s house, too exhausted to worry about the possibility of ghosts. 

The pain was intense—the grief was worse. Aira sat up awkwardly in the bed, trying to force her mind to work well enough to remember where her clothes were. She hadn’t made any effort to change into pajamas, stripping her wet things off and immediately curling up with tears still drying on her cheeks. She climbed stiffly out of bed, cringing as every movement sent a wave of agony through her body. She would have to get her back checked again—by someone more inclined to observation and testing than the ER doctor had been. For the moment, however, she hunched over into the least uncomfortable position she could manage and rummaged through her suitcase until she found a nightgown, deciding a pajama set was too much effort. Aira pulled the gown over her head and shuffled out of the bedroom through the hall, feeling another stab of grief as she smelled breakfast cooking. A sob clawed at her throat, and she took a deep breath, suppressing it ruthlessly. 

Aiden was seated at the table, and Aira looked around the corner into the kitchen to see Dylan hard at work at her grandmother’s stove, preparing bacon and eggs. She smiled slightly, sitting down uncomfortably in one of the chairs. 

“I almost thought I’d dreamt the whole horrible thing,” Aira said, shifting in the seat. 

Aiden stood silently and poured her a cup of coffee, putting her bottles of pills in front of her and giving her a stern look. “I need to eat first or I’ll vomit,” she told him defensively, feeling irritated at his authoritarian manner. 

“Food’s ready,” Dylan said, bringing a skillet to the table and bringing it down to rest on a trivet. Aira suddenly didn’t want food at all. She wanted to go back to bed; to take her medicine and curl up and forget everything for hours at a time. She forced herself to take a plate and fill it with eggs and bacon; to bring the filled fork to her mouth again and again until the plate was empty, making no conversation. 

“You’ve eaten, take your medicine,” Aiden said, taking her plate and bringing it into the kitchen. Aira’s temper began to rise. She stood, gripping the table tightly. The wind picked up, rustling the wind chimes positioned around the house, rattling the branches of the closest trees against the windows and roof. 

“Okay, Aiden, listen to me right now.” She turned to face him. “I appreciate that you and Dylan have been here for me through all this, but let’s get this straight: I am not crippled. I am not a basket case. I am capable of making my own decisions and doing things for myself. If I want to take my medicine, I will take it. If I don’t want to take it, you can leave me the hell alone or I will find a way to beat the shit out of you.” Aira scowled at Aiden, who was staring at her in unabashed shock. Dylan chuckled and Aira turned her gaze on him, ruining the effect of her glare by cracking a smile. “Stop it, I’m being serious right now,” she whispered. 

“I know. And you totally could beat the shit out of Aiden,” he replied. 

Aira laughed, the motion sending a sharp lance of pain through her. She shook her head and sat back down, reaching for her pill bottles. 

“Just so you know, I’m taking this because I’m in pain, not because you told me to, Aiden,” she eyed him harshly, swallowing the pain pill and the muscle relaxer with coffee. 

Aiden snorted, and Aira felt satisfied she had done what was necessary to stand up for herself. She finished her coffee and tried to decide what to do with herself for the day; the will had been submitted to the court, but she hadn’t read it—it wouldn’t be read until the next week. Aira was at odds and ends, with nothing to do; not even translation work. Her back injury precluded her working in the garden or even going out. After all of the hard work of preparing the funeral, and before that of preparing for her grandmother’s passing, Aira had no idea what she could use to fill her time, now that she suddenly had so much of it. 

“You know, I could try and help you with your back,” Dylan suggested, looking at her warily. Aira raised an eyebrow, and Dylan shrugged. “She did… teach me a little bit about healing. I could see if I could help.” Aira smiled, feeling a dull sadness at the mention of her grandmother, oblique as it was. 

“Maybe later,” she said. She decided abruptly she wanted to go through her grandfather’s books. He had amassed a respectable collection, and she had only ever gotten partway through cataloging them. It would occupy a few hours at least. Aira hobbled into the den that had belonged to her grandfather before his passing, leaving the brothers behind. 

Aira wasn’t aware that she had dozed off until she awoke abruptly, a feeling of fire running along her arm—oddly pleasant and tingling in its burning, rather than painful. She opened her eyes to Aiden hovering inches away. He had knelt next to where she had fallen asleep, books scattered around her. “Aira, you need to get up. You’re going to make your back worse,” he said with concern. Aira chuckled, taking a deep breath and gathering her willpower as she sat up unsteadily. Her back didn’t hurt at the moment, and she decided that she must still have some of the pain medicine in her system. She looked at Aiden, suddenly aware of the stillness in the house, the utter silence surrounding them. 

“Where’s Dylan?” she asked, worried. She looked around as if expecting to find him in the room with them. Aiden smiled slightly.

“He’s outside checking on the fish. The ponds just about flooded, you know,” he told her. Aiden reached out once more and Aira felt a thrill run through her body as he began to lift her to her feet carefully, holding her by the shoulders. “C’mon, let’s get you into bed,” he said with surprising gentleness. Aira giggled, thinking she was definitely still under the influence of the medicine—though she was cognizant and conscious. She found herself suddenly, completely aware of Aiden as a man; not as the annoying guardian, the frustrating, overprotective, domineering body guard, nor the occasionally amusing companion—but as a man she had found physically attractive in spite of the fact that he got on her nerves. 

“You know,” she said gracelessly as Aiden steered her through the kitchen and down the hall to her bedroom, “You are incredibly annoying. I mean you get on my nerves constantly.” Aiden kicked the door to her bedroom open softly and led her through it.

“The feeling is mutual,” he said, shaking his head and bringing her to the bed. He helped her into the bed and under the covers then turned to leave.

“No! Don’t leave me alone, Aiden,” Aira said, reaching out to stop him. “The house is too quiet. I can… I can almost hear her when it’s quiet like this.” She felt her eyes stinging with tears. 

“I’ll put some music on for you, how about that?” he suggested. Aira nodded her agreement, trying to get her ready tears under control. She sniffed, swallowing down the sob forming in her throat. Aiden went to the book bag Aira had left in a chair near the dresser and took out her phone, along with the portable speaker she had brought with her. He turned on the speaker and brought her the phone. Aira smiled slightly at the screen, setting the device to transmit to the speaker’s Bluetooth. She flipped through her music. 

“Can I play anything I want?” she asked quietly.