Seers (29 page)

• • • K 219

Twenty-four

New Mexico, United States

Once back home, I learned that Grandpa was out picking Josie up from a soccer game. Jenna was in her room, and Grandma was waiting for me in the living room.

Generally not a good sign. I moved to sit next to her on the couch, the wide bay window behind us.

She didn’t look upset—only concerned. “Honey, would you like to talk?” She asked softly, as soon as the initial greetings were out of the way.

I tried to give her a real smile, and I think she believed me.

“Yeah. It was just a bad day. Lots of memories hit me at once, and . . .”

But she was nodding gently. “It’s all right. I understand.” The brown in her aura flared, and I instantly felt bad for lying.

“Thanks, Grandma,” I whispered, before leaning closer and wrapping my arms around her slightly stooped form. She folded her arms around me, patted my back softly, but soon enough was pulling back.

“So,” I winced. “I turned off my phone to avoid Aaron; did he call you back?”

“Only once—and I told him I’d talked to you, and you were all right.”

She must have understood my frustrated expression, because she suddenly took hold of my hand. “Now, don’t start accusing him

• • • K 220 K • • •

• • • K s e e r s

of tattle-telling, and make a big deal about this. He was obviously concerned. He was at work, and Lee came by with her mom’s car, to get it inspected. I guess your Grandpa had talked to Howard, the head mechanic over there, about getting your car’s oil changed.

Aaron called the house to talk to Grandpa about the price, and he casually asked about you. I told him you were with Lee. He got worried, quite understandably.”

I sighed, then decided to let the fight go out of me. I knew I’d forgive him eventually, so why not start now? Still, there was something about his actions that rubbed me wrong . . .

“I’m not blaming him,” I told her, and she visibly relaxed.

“Good. Because he’s a very nice boy, and you’re great together.” I casually steered the conversation to school, and I talked with her for a few more minutes before I excused myself. Once in my room I sat at my desk and started up my computer. While it loaded, I let myself think about the day’s events. So much had happened since this morning—I’d learned so much. But for some reason, my mind stuck on only one image. The image that had been burned into my memory, and that I couldn’t stop thinking about the whole drive back home.

I kept reliving the moment at my car, with Patrick. That second when everything changed. When the air became charged as his eyes wandered my face, and I couldn’t stop myself from getting lost in his intense stare.

My stomach was tight, and my heart pounded. I watched him watch me, wondering how a moment could last this long—feel this intimate, without touching or speaking. I was aware of his every breath, the tensing in his posture as the moment dragged on.

I could feel a strange heat in my chest. I couldn’t think of Aaron, or focus on anything but the blue in Patrick’s eyes. I wondered what those strong arms would feel like around my body. I remember thinking about what it would be like to press against his lean figure. To be held by him. That was all. My wondering never took us farther than that.

• • • K 221

h e a t h e r f r o s t K • • •

And that’s why—despite my better judgment—I’d hugged him quickly before escaping into my car. He’d looked surprised.

But when I pulled back, I’d seen the pleasure in his eyes. Just thinking about my arms around him—his hands on my back—

had me struggling to breathe. My head, pressed briefly against his . . .

My computer was ready, I realized. I mentally shook myself, and tried to rid my mind of those dangerous fantasies. Dangerous because they so unarmed me, and also because I refused to get hurt. Belatedly, I realized that Aaron should have been reason number one.

I entered my password, pulled up a search engine, and then pulled out the carefully folded piece of paper I’d taken from the hotel. I typed in the address, and soon found the hit I was looking for. It was a nightclub of some kind, located about thirty miles from here. I printed out some directions, and then folded them and put them in my purse. They’d be ready, when Wednesday came around.

Now I had Monday to worry about. But it wasn’t really worry; more like a strange sense of anticipation. Selena Avalos was going to get a piece of me, that was for sure. I was ready to start striking back for the fear I’d been feeling. I just couldn’t think too much about what Quin Romero would want me for. Then, of course, I was also worried about Far Darrig, the Demon killer that was on the loose—and headed this way. Patrick had tried to reassure me that I wasn’t the target, and I think a small part of me believed him. After all, that made sense. In the Demon world, I was less than insignificant. But still, it was another thing I could worry about, so naturally I did.

I decided that while I was on the internet I’d look to see if they’d learned anything new about the Death Train, but I couldn’t find anything.

And so I turned to homework, though I wasn’t really able to focus.

222 K • • •

• • • K s e e r s

Before I’d accomplished much of anything I heard Grandpa and Josie return—long overdue, in Grandma’s mind—and I heard Josie loudly giving Grandma the play by play of the game they’d barely won.

I tuned my family out, trying to concentrate and actually get something done. But it was a wasted effort. Grandma yelled for me to come down, and I looked at the clock—shocked when the time registered. It was nearly six. I’d been up here for hours.

I tucked my stuff away quickly, and then headed down.

Grandma was in the kitchen, wearing one of her nicest dresses for the Symphony. She was getting a glass of water, which she didn’t drink when she saw me. “Okay, I just ordered pizza—I got enough that the twins can make themselves sick. We won’t be back terribly late. Make sure the twins are in bed by ten—I don’t care what excuses they use. I expect you in bed not much later than eleven.

Saturday or not. We should be back around then.”

“Unless I kidnap her and we elope,” Grandpa joked, entering the room.

I turned to smile at him, taking in the dark suit he wore. I usually only saw him in an old pair of comfortable suspenders or overalls, so the change was almost startling. “You look great, Grandpa.”

“I look like a fish out of water,” he complained, but it was in good fun. He smiled back at me, cocking his head slightly to the side. “You know, you actually look happy tonight, darling. I mean, really, genuinely happy.”

“Thanks, I think.” I shrugged. “I feel pretty happy.” Grandma dumped her remaining water into the sink, and then turned to us. “Right. Do you have your wallet, dear?”

“Yes indeed.”

“And you stopped to fill up after picking up Josie, right?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Good.” She nodded, satisfied. She could get so flustered, it was almost funny.

• • • K 223

h e a t h e r f r o s t K • • •

They both hugged me goodbye—Grandma kissed my cheek—and then they were out the door. Grandma came back a second later, though, to call up to the twins to be on good behavior. “I’m leaving my second pair of eyes here, just in case!” She threatened. And then she left, and I sighed in relief. Her stress at the evening had been rubbing off on me, and at last I could relax.

I went into the kitchen to get a drink of my own, and I’d just set the used glass into the dishwasher when there was a knock on the door. I closed the dishwasher, and wandered back to the front door. I pulled it open, and blinked in surprise. It was Patrick.

He had that awkward stance, the one that was growing very familiar. Only one hand was in his pocket, though—the other held my wallet. He followed my gaze, and smiled apologetically.

“Toni, uh . . .” he shrugged. “I’m still working on him.”

“Oh, um,” I lifted a finger and scratched absently at my hairline. I was very aware of his stare on my face, catching every motion, every emotion. It was warming and unnerving, all at the same time. It left me slightly unsure of what to say. But I had to say something—he was waiting for me to say something. “Thank you,” I forced out at last. “You didn’t have to come all this way—I would have seen you Monday.”

“I know. I tried calling, but, your phone’s still off.”

“It is?” I patted my pocket, but it was still upstairs. “I guess I forgot to turn it back on,” I said, sounding sheepish. It was a new sound for me, and I didn’t really like it.

He smiled a half grin, and then handed the wallet to me. I took it with both hands, trying really hard not to push my hair back behind my ear. I wasn’t going to give into my nervousness.

My fingers ran uselessly over the corners of the wallet, flipping it over and over in my hands.

Both hands were now firmly in his pockets. “I didn’t mind. It was an excuse to get away from Toni for a while.”

“Yeah, um, I can’t imagine living with him full time.” An honest answer, but it shouldn’t have been that hard to come up 224 K • • •

• • • K s e e r s

with.

“It can be a challenge,” Patrick admitted.

There was a short silence, and I honestly didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want him to leave, I realized. But that was exactly why I needed to let him go.

And then Josie was bounding down the steps, chanting, “Not supposed to have friends over, not supposed to have friends over!” She reached the bottom of the staircase, and then pulled the door open wider, so she could see who it was. “Wow. Hi. I’m Josie.” She saw my wallet, then got a really confused look on her face. “Is he the pizza guy? Where’s the pizza?” The last was directed toward him, but before he could stumble out an answer, I was speaking. “He’s a friend from school. Patrick, this is my sister, Josie.”

He extended a hand, his smile small but genuine. “Ah, the one with the loud voice.”

Josie took his hand, smiling despite herself. “Flattery won’t work on me, but I do take pride in my lungs. Does Kate talk about me often?”

“She may have mentioned you once,” he shrugged a single shoulder, obviously teasing her. “I mean, older sisters avoid talking about younger sisters, right? It’s perfectly natural.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s nice,” Josie argued. She elbowed me, and then caught sight of his car on the street. “Nice ride. Are you one of those rich guys that move in from foreign countries with parents who are spies with plans to make their children into terrorists?”

“Wow,” he laughed shortly and blinked his wide eyes once.

“Should I be offended? I’m not sure . . . ”

“You just talk funny, that’s all.”

“Thanks.”

“You said I had a loud voice,” she pointed out.

He bowed quickly, the motion mostly from the shoulders up.

“True. Truce?”

• • • K 225

h e a t h e r f r o s t K • • •

“Why not?” Josie glanced back at me, eying me strangely. “So, were you going to invite him in, or make him sweat on the porch all night?”

Patrick spoke quickly, twisting slightly away from us, jerking a thumb back toward his car. “No, that’s all right. I was just leaving.”

“You just got here!” Josie protested. She rounded on me. “Is he staying, or not?”

I stared at my sister’s face, wondering if her sudden interest in him was a blessing or a curse. Then I decided to seize the moment.

I’d be making amends to Aaron tomorrow anyway—why not really dig myself a hole, first?

I turned toward Patrick, a somewhat cautious smile on my face—but sincere nonetheless. “I guess that’s up to him. He’s welcome to, though.”

He glanced between us—eyes almost sinking into mine, once they met—and then he smiled. “I’d love too.” 226 K • • •

Twenty-five

An hour later the four of us were crammed onto one couch, laughing hysterically. The movie wasn’t all that funny, but in our present mood, anything would have been hilarious.

The remains of our dinner cluttered the beautiful coffee table—only one slice remained, and there were a couple leftover bread sticks on the side.

Jenna was almost hyperventilating, she couldn’t breath. Josie was laughing so hard she was slipping off the couch.

Why the hysterics? Quite simply, Patrick was hilarious. For a guy who hadn’t watched many movies, he knew how to enjoy them. He hadn’t done it on purpose, but he’d certainly started a new fad.

While I was getting drinks and bringing in plates, Josie and Jenna fought over what movie to watch with dinner. Patrick tried to help out by turning on the TV, but he accidentally hit a wrong button on the stereo. We didn’t realize until we started the movie that we were listening to a corny Mexican radio station while watching our movie.

The result was instant laugh attacks. Patrick was embarrassed at first—but soon he was laughing right along with us. He alternately switched through stations, but always kept them classical, or easy listening. The result was best when there was no singing, we soon learned. One of the best moments was during a shootout on

• • • K 227 K • • •

h e a t h e r f r o s t K • • •

screen, while listening to spa-worthy music.

That’s what made Josie slip to the floor the first time.

Once that movie ended, Jenna was up, grabbing another.

“Let’s try it on this one!” She gasped.

My arms were wrapped tightly around my body, and I gasped for air. When our laughter would start to die, Patrick would switch to a new station. I told myself that I’d be prepared—that I wouldn’t start laughing again. I honestly thought I might die from lack of oxygen if I went through another fit.

My resolve fled when he flipped back to a classical station, where the strains of the Wedding March accompanied a high speed chase.

The twins literally rolled on the floor, and Jenna gasped about how much it hurt. Patrick’s laugh was loud, and his face was almost completely red. He was shaking the whole couch, and I had to tightly grip the arm to keep from falling off myself.

I think I was laughing more from the three of them than the movie/music antics.