Legacy (4 page)

But Rachel had seen two of the murders in her visions. I shuddered at the memory. I’d been in-range for one of them. The images flashed up again and stole my breath.

Isaiah’d leaned silently against the pale stone wall. His eyes had stayed on the green painted door, like a cat watching for the mouse to come out of its hole.

Down south,
Rachel’d thought.
The Carolinas, or maybe Georgia.
She’d pulled back with her vision, seeking details like street signs.

Isaiah tensed and Rachel re-focused on him just as the door opened. She glimpsed the sandy-haired guy in a Duke t-shirt with a backpack over one shoulder. Recognition spiked through her.
Tim? Oh, God…

Tim dropped like a marionette with its strings cut. His legs splayed across the open doorway. Isaiah stepped over him, and then grabbed his limp arms and pulled him back inside. The door closed without a sound.

By the time I got up to Rachel’s room, she’d already called Williamson. “Tim Stewart’s dead.” She rasped the words through a too-tight throat, and tears dripped from her quivering jaw. “Isaiah. I think he…” she drew a harsh breath, “…he was leaving his apartment.”
God, he was just going to class. He only left Ganzfield last summer. He wasn’t a bad guy—for a charm, at least.

“What’s Isaiah doing now?” Williamson’s voice came through her thoughts, stone-hard.

Rachel focused in. Her dismay made her vision swim in and out of focus as she watched Isaiah dump clothing from another drawer onto the floor. Black leather gloves stood out strangely against his pastel polo shirt. “He’s trashing Tim’s apartment.”

None of us had known the second victim, although a discrete charm request for a blood sample from the morgue had confirmed the dead woman had been a G-positive, too. After that, Ganzfield had started filling up as frightened G-positives came to stay here.

Safety in numbers.

Years ago, several people had tried going up against Isaiah. He’d killed them all.
How do you fight someone who can hear your intentions? Someone who can fill your mind with a blast of lethal energy and kill you in a few seconds?
I knew I wasn’t a match for him—at least not yet—so I wasn’t pushing to lead a mission to take him out. For now, we were playing defense, simply trying to keep our people alive and safe. And I had to hand it to Williamson—he’d made good on his promise to step up security: locks on the building doors, new surveillance equipment protecting the boundary walls, and the patrols, day and night. Hell, if someone launched a missile at us, the sparks probably could divert it into the lake.

I wasn’t the only person who felt like Ganzfield was the only safe place right now. Recent “graduates” returned from their colleges or jobs, and some brought G-positive family members. The sparks had added several new cinderblock houses to their little community for the new arrivals, and a cluster of recreational vehicles and trailers housed more people in the field behind Blake House.

Cecelia was back from UNH, much to our mutual annoyance. Heather McFee, the sole healer in a family of sparks, stayed in Blake House, as well. Ann Williamson, Jon’s niece, had arrived a few days ago. She took up residence in her old cabin, even though she no longer needed the isolation. She was off the meds and no longer heard thoughts, but this land had been in her mom’s family for generations, so she could pretty much stay wherever she wanted.

Many beds in Blake House remained empty, though. The melting snow had washed away the bloodstains from the massacre, but the sense of death remained, clinging to our memories. It sometimes felt like the dead were still here.

Haunting us.

Something moved under the surface of the water. The simple, globular thoughts of fish touched the edges of my mind as a strange rumble stirred them up. On the far end of the lake, two small helicopters lifted into the air. Each was barely large enough to hold a single person, although I knew these two would be remotely controlled by a couple of sparks. The lawnmower drone of their motors came across the water as the helicopters flew low, sending a rippling wake out from the wash of their rotors. When they got closer to the sparks’ houses, they splashed-in, one after the other, resurfacing to float on their pontoons. The copters took off again a minute later, repeating the fly-by from another angle.

I nodded absently, feeling reassured. The sparks would never allow another aerial attack on us. Our bigger concern was that some rich skiers would fly too close on their way to a drop on a nearby mountain next winter.

Behind me, I felt a gentle touch from Trevor’s mind. I smiled and sent him an image of where to find me.

You left without me this morning.
He carried two coffee cups in his physical hands. A plate with two bagels and a bowl of green grapes floated in front of him.

Like you wouldn’t have spared me that meeting if the situation had been reversed.

How’d it go?
He joined me out on the rock and handed me one of the coffees. He’d even added milk and fake sugar, just the way I liked it.

About as badly as we expected.
I gave him a quick mental recap.

So they know you’re not pregnant and they don’t know about Rachel. Sounds like you did wonderfully.

Thanks, I needed that.
I took another gulp of coffee, feeling the lump in my throat as I swallowed.
You’re the only one who doesn’t think I’m a major screw-up right now.

Trevor put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.
That’s because I know you better than they do.

I smiled, resting my head against his chest, feeling like everything was okay now that he was here.

Any sign of Rachel?
I asked.

Didn’t see her at the dining hall.

Well, if she’s looking for me, we know she’ll be able to find me.
I knew Rachel would figure out who’d given her that particular little gift. If she wasn’t looking for me, she didn’t want to talk about it. I wasn’t going to push—well, anymore than I already had by putting a pregnancy test in her room last night.

I looked at the bagel in front of me; it didn’t appeal. The bowl of grapes was on the other side of Trevor. His hands were full with his own coffee and bagel, so I concentrated, telekinetically picked a single grape, and lifted it back to my mouth. My “turns” with Trevor had improved my skills with his borrowed ability.

Hey, that’s my job!
He smiled and invisibly picked another grape. I leaned back against the rock, shedding my sweatshirt to use as a pillow. Trevor stretched out along my side, propping himself on one elbow to watch me. He fed me another grape, his unseen fingers lingering against my lips. I concentrated again and did the same for him.

Think we can just stay here for a little while and feed each other grapes?
I asked.
I don’t want to deal with any of them for a while
.

Absolutely. If anyone tries to bother you, I’ll splash them until they go away.
A wall of water shot out from the surface of the lake next to us, drenching the tree trunks along the shore.

I was about to try telekinetically splashing a wall of water myself, but we suddenly felt my mother coming toward us. Trevor’s smile melted away, and his moral dilemma made me laugh.
Don’t worry. You don’t have to drench my mom for me.

Whew,
he joked, but his relief was genuine. He really did want her approval.

“Maddie? Honey? Where are you?”

Mom, we’re over here.
I sent her a little image of the path. We sat up before she came into view. I already knew I no longer had to shield my thoughts—my mom’s mind practically shouted her dismay. She’d walked past Rachel in the hall of Blake House this morning and she’d looked upset. Concerned, my mom had “accidentally” brushed against her arm and had gotten a mindful, most of which spilled out of her right now. Rachel hadn’t taken the pregnancy test, but she had been full of the
Oh, my God
realization that such a test was necessary.

That’s pretty uncool, Mom. I can’t help overhearing other people’s private thoughts, but you can. Rachel HATES having people in her mind like that. You not only peeping-tommed her head, but now you’re leaking it to every minder in range.

She ignored my rebuke. “I just need to know—the test was never for you, right?”

No, Mom, it wasn’t for me. But you can’t tell Jon or Seth or anyone. You’re not able to shield your thoughts, so you need to avoid them for a day or two. You’re broadcasting the details of Rachel’s intimate life all over right now. It’s none of your business. It’s none of their business.

“It affects everyone here. Jon and Seth need to know.”

Doctor-patient confidentiality, Mom. Think about something else. Go hang out with the sparks or something. Or Ann! Ann won’t hear anything from you since she’s not taking the meds anymore. If there’s anything to tell, let Rachel do it when she’s ready.

“That’s why you were shielding this morning?”

Yeah. I can’t stay out of other people’s heads, but I CAN keep their secrets.

My mom gave me a searching look.
Is Maddie becoming so responsible and self-sacrificing that she’d take the fall to protect her friend? Or is she just being a sneaky, lying, difficult teenager?

I felt her anger and disappointment evaporate as warmth filled her gaze. Something in my chest unclenched.

Okay, she knows you pretty well, too,
Trevor thought to me.

My mom’s eyes flicked to him, sensing that he’d thought something to me but unable to make out what it was, since he wasn’t minder-loud. She’d been furious with him this morning, and now she had to dislodge that particular piece of emotional décor.

“Trevor.” She gave him a nod.

“Hi, Nina.” Since my mom’s arrival, she’d gotten us all to switch to first names. We just interacted too intensely for formality. I still felt strange little tinges of impudence whenever I called Dr. Williamson “Jon.” It’d be only a little weirder to call my mom “Nina,” like the rest of them did. I’d never tried, though. That wouldn’t go over too well.

“You knew about this?”

He nodded. “I was with Maddie when she figured it out.”

My mom frowned. She didn’t like to think about our “special connection,” although she understood that Trevor and I had no secrets from each other. “Well, if I have to avoid the other minders for a while, you’ll need to go up and take care of any new arrivals today.”

I sighed. I avoided welcome-wagon duty whenever I could—the whole speaking-into-minds thing creeped some people out.

So much for feeding each other grapes in the sun.

Trevor and I got to our feet, picking up the empty plates and mugs as we went. At least my mom was taking Rachel’s privacy concerns seriously. She’d taken to telepathy like a natural—which I guess she was. I guess we both were.

I pulled a mental shield around Trevor and me as the main building came into sight. Drew flashed us a big smile and a wave as we passed then returned to the controls of one of the helicopters, weaving and dodging to avoid Grant and Ellen’s combined ability. Most sparks now could suppress the engines and cause the copters to stall. A few could grab the combustible parts and rip the machines out of the sky. Something steely-hard inside me gave a grim little nod of satisfaction.

Anyone who comes here to hurt us will get what they deserve.

I started to glow before we got up to the main house and Rachel came around the corner and met my gaze. I met her halfway and, after a moment, self-consciously placed an arm around her. I didn’t know how else to respond to the emotional whiplash. First, she felt terrified, then giddy, then embarrassed, then freaked out, then angry, and then a wave of grief hit her. By the time I’d framed something to say, she was onto a different reaction and my half-formed mental words were inappropriate, so I just stood there and hoped that the arm-thing was enough.

Trevor hung back slightly, hesitant and ill at ease. A question formed in his mind—the question that was so central to his own life-long anxieties.

Does she want to keep the baby?

What would Rachel do? I’d always been pro-choice—it just seemed wrong to force a woman to go through a pregnancy against her will. Since meeting Trevor, though, I’d felt my convictions become shakier. A single decision by a scared teenager nineteen years ago could’ve removed this amazing person from the world and that idea sickened me. I had no right to have an opinion here—it was Rachel’s choice—but I knew which decision I wanted her to make. Maybe it was selfish and wrong of me to even have an opinion.

Well, being selfish and wrong never stopped me before.

Williamson’s concerns flashed through my mind. What if the baby wasn’t developing right? I couldn’t say anything to Rachel right now. She had so much to deal with!

Multicolored waves of emotion tumbled through her mind, overflowing her ability to process them. She’d lost the man she loved; her uncle had been murdered; she’d been repeatedly assaulted; and now she faced an unplanned pregnancy. It was too much—she couldn’t handle it alone.

But she wasn’t alone.

Hey, I’m here. I’m here for you. You’re not alone.
I didn’t know why I, of all people, would be particularly comforting, but I was here and I knew she needed someone. I guess I was better than nothing.

Rachel sniffed, trying to pull herself together. Her quick breaths were gasping, half-crying sounds, like she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. Above us, I felt Williamson’s mental touch as he took in the situation. Questions for me began to form in his mind.

Not now, Jon
. My shield had gone down when I’d first spoken to Rachel. The secret I’d been protecting was already out—Rachel’s turbulent thoughts had broadcast it almost violently to every minder in range.
I’m taking care of this.