The Alignment (18 page)

As soon as the makeshift heating pad makes contact with his lower back, he groans. I situate it evenly so it won’t slide off.

“Oh my god you have no idea…”

Pleased at the intended effect, I use the rocks to work his muscles, losing myself in the rhythm. I’m vaguely aware the room has turned dark, the decreasing light so gradual I didn’t notice the sun was setting. I turn on a lamp and lie down next to him. “Are you alive?”

“Barely.” The softness of his voice is my reward.

After a few minutes he rolls to face me, pulling the pillow over so we can both share it. “Thank you,” he says, his face inches from mine.

“My pleasure.”

He rolls onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “I’m using you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes. I’m using you to carry out my own revenge.”

“No you’re not. I agreed. Remember?”

“But what other choice did you have?” Disgust fills his voice, and I know he’s right.

“But I want to help you.”

He rolls to face me. “Why?”

Good question. “I…think we make a great team. Why do
you
want me to come with you?”

He smirks, his eyes lighting up. “Because I think we make a great team.” He drops his smile. “And I don’t ever want to be away from you.”

I look away from him. There’s a flutter in my stomach, and my thoughts turn to mush.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No,” I begin, trying to think. “It’s just, you can’t say something like that and expect me to remain professional.”

He laughs, a symphony in my ears. “Good point.” He pushes himself up and holds out his hand. The muscles in his arms flex as he pulls me to standing. “I’m going to explain everything that will happen tonight, so you can choose if you really want to do this.”

There’s a defeat to his voice, like he’s already decided I won’t commit. He has to believe I’m with him. Our trust has to be strong in both directions or this team won’t last. If he’s blaming himself for dragging me into this, well I’m just as guilty. “I’ve already told you I’m in.”

“You don’t know what you’re—”

“Trey, listen. I could’ve walked away from this a long time ago. I could’ve driven to the police station and explained the entire situation at any time. But I didn’t. And in the beginning, even I don’t know why I didn’t. So my involvement is just as much my fault as it is yours. I have nothing else in the world right now, and staying with you just feels right. Can you accept that?”

“God, where did you come from?” He looks down and notices he’s still holding my hand. He presses his lips together firmly and drops my hand. “I need a snack.”

In the kitchen, he cuts open a watermelon with an enormous knife better suited to clearing a jungle path, and I take a seat at the table. I try not to wonder if that blade has killed. He brings a plate of sliced watermelon to the table, the ripe fruit so perfect that the first bite leaves juice running down my arms.

“Okay.” He pulls out his chair across from me. “The process I planned for tonight is a mind sharing process. Your mind will go to sleep, opening for input. My mind will project to your mind.” He takes a few bites of watermelon while watching for my reaction. “The more compatible our minds are, the better it will work. If our minds aren’t compatible, it won’t work at all. But we already know our minds are compatible.”

I wonder what my expression looks like.

“It’s not as crazy as it sounds. It’s just a quick way for me to teach you certain things I know. Once those things are in your mind, we’ll work with them so your mind and body can adapt to them.

“So, those tablets I made? We’ll take them together. You’ll go to sleep, and I’ll stay awake but on a different level of consciousness. I’ll enter your mind and apply my knowledge. Don’t look so freaked out. It’s easy.”

“And then I wake up and know how to install a roof?”

He allows himself a moment’s smile but remains serious. “Do you want to know how to install a roof? I can include that.”

“Is this for real?”

“Yes. But the tricky part is we can’t do it here. We have to go somewhere they can’t easily find us.”

“Why?”

“Because if one of them comes when we’re busy—I can’t protect us when I’m in that state. The process could take hours.”

Hours, under his control, at the whim of his mind. “Is it reversible? If it doesn’t sit well with me, can we revert back?”

“Sure. A little harder to do but it’s possible.”

“What exactly are you going to teach me?”

“Combat, weapons, and tactical knowledge like how to escape. And…I’ll have to think if there’s anything else. But once you have the knowledge, you’ll need to learn to apply it, to sort of customize it, because physically you’re so different from me.”

“Are you saying I’m a wimp?” I can’t take all of this as seriously as him. Maybe because if I do, I’m admitting it’s real. It’s even crazier that I’m going along with it.

He won’t take the bait. He’s all business. “Not at all. I’m saying your proportions, your weight distribution, your size—are all different.”

“So, in other words, I’m weak.”

His concentration doesn’t waver. “Not weak. Different. I’d whip you in arm wrestling, but wouldn’t want to go up against you with a knife on a steep roof. You’ll find your strengths. And your existing physical abilities with your dance and gymnastics background are almost too good to be true.”

“So when we’re done, I’ll know everything you know but with my own personal stamp on it.”

“When we’re done, you’ll be a highly-trained assassin.” His sudden radiant smile carries a sinister edge.

“You’re going to enjoy this, aren’t you?”

“I’m not going to lie.”

“It’s just a little hard to believe.”

He shrugs. “It’s how my mother taught me some things when I was little. She just didn’t like to do it because she didn’t want me to cheat. She wanted me to grow up like a normal child.”

“So much for that.” The words mingle with my laughter.

He gives me a look.

“How can you do this? Can anyone do it?”

“Anyone can receive. But to project, you have to be part of my bloodline.”

“Your bloodline.” I’m repeating it more to myself than to him. At some point, I’m going to wake up from this dream. These things he’s told me, this talk of the supernatural and ancient prophecies and bloodlines that should not exist in reality are going to come crashing down.

I finish another piece of watermelon while he watches with the attentiveness of a dog waiting for a treat. He wants me to respond. He wants my agreement. My permission. What does he expect me to say? Yes, I will take some mind-altering tablet you made in a beaker in your basement and let you program my mind while I’m unconscious? And that’s just the beginning. He could probably do so much more, and I’d never know.

I’m not opposed to taking the tablet or letting him have his way with my mind. But intrigue and curiosity cannot fully silence the fear of losing too much of myself. Will I end up a killer, like him?

He leans back in his chair, breaking his focused intensity with a smile. “The suspense is killing me.”

Killing him. What an interesting choice of words. “Sorry. I’m not doing it on purpose. I just don’t know what to say.”

“Are you afraid?”

“No. Not afraid of what will happen tonight.” I wonder if my honesty will offend him. “I’m afraid of what I will become.”

He nods slowly, closing his eyes for a moment as if he’s already considered this idea himself. “Don’t worry. It won’t change you as a person. It won’t make you like me.”

“That’s not what I was saying. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s a valid point. But it’s no different from me teaching you kickboxing every night after work. If we did that, you’d just know how to kickbox. You wouldn’t become a killer.”

He answers my questions almost to the word. Is he already in my mind? “You missed your calling. You should be in sales. Either that, or I’m the biggest pushover alive.”

“You’re not a pushover. And I’m not selling it. It’s just a damn good idea and you know it.”

He’s got something there. I’m not sure who could complain about learning a lifetime of skills in just a few hours. And all you have to do is take a nap. Forget magic. Consider it something ordinary people do every day. Who knows, someday they’ll probably invent it. Pretend it’s possible now, with technology instead of an ancient bloodline and strange words from an old book. Who wouldn’t agree?

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He leans forward.

“Okay I’m in.” I reach out my sticky, juice-covered hand and he takes it in his.

Sometimes you just have to go with your gut feeling.

Chapter 21

Trey

“I
’ll get you
back for that.” I wipe my sticky hand on my jeans and stand.

“What?” Her attempt to look innocent falls short because she can’t contain her smile.

I debate telling her the part of the prophecy I left out earlier. I swore I would, but I don’t want to add any complications to this day. Putting it off now means I have to tell her soon. If it comes up for the first time when we’re facing them, she’ll think I deliberately kept it from her, that I betrayed her. I will not betray her.

She probably doubts what I said about not wanting to be away from her. I wanted to say more. It’s such a struggle with her. I’ve possessed unfaltering willpower my whole life. Then Liv Gilchrist shows up and it all goes to hell.

“Should we get ready for our adventure?” I ask.

“Is that what you’re calling it? I like that.” Her blue eyes shine.

“Dress in layers. It’s going to be cold tonight, and we’ll be outside for most of it.” I follow her into the bedroom to get some extra clothes from my closet. “If you need more clothes, help yourself.” I leave the closet door open and go gear up.

After getting dressed, I pack a bag with our tablets, the jar of the agent, bottled water, matches, and a blanket. I stick the sheet of copied notes into my pocket. Liv joins me in the kitchen wearing jeans and one of my flannel shirts over my thermal undershirt. I curb my thoughts immediately. She doesn’t mean to look so cute in my clothes.

“Sorry. Your clothes are just so comfy. And you offered.” She rolls up the sleeves.

Nothing gets by her. I should know this by now.

“Is there anything you need to bring?” I hold open my bag.

“Here, my Chapstick. That’s it.”

She is definitely not like most women. I pull one of my sock hats over her head and slide her hair out of her eyes. She smiles up at me, and a tingle runs through me, charging my blood. I pull a sock hat over my own head, and we both sit to tie our boots.

“Are you wearing anything under your jeans?”

She shoots me a quizzical look. “Who wants to know?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’ll be warm.”

I open the back door and click my tongue for River. Leaves rustle, paws pound the decking, and she stops in front of me, tail wagging. “Go scout.”

She runs off eagerly. I grab my sheathed knife off the top of the fridge. It wouldn’t hurt to bring a gun too, so I go downstairs for my nine millimeter. I’m slipping into the shoulder holster as I reach the top of the stairs, and Liv’s eyes go straight to the gun and settle there.

“Are you sure you’re not taking me out in the woods to kill me? I’m kind of making it easy for you.”

That hits a nerve. I know she’s kidding, but it feels like I’ve just taken a bullet to the chest when I imagine how easily she could’ve overdosed on that handful of herbs. How it would’ve been my fault. How my only concern that night was how to dispose of her body. There is no amount of gratitude I can pay to whatever caused me to sleep on it instead of toss her body off a cliff. I grab my heavy jacket and River appears at the back door with her friend from Liv’s house. Both tails are wagging, signaling the all clear.

“Looks like River had some help tonight.” I get two pieces of cheese from the fridge and hand them out the door. “Ready?” I turn around and hold her coat for her.

She slips her arms in the sleeves. “Do you have any gloves I can borrow?”

The smallest pair I have are the fleece-lined ones, still way too big but she’ll need the warmth. She laughs as she puts them on, and I make a mental note to buy her some new gloves.

I sling the bag over my head and settle the strap across my chest, situating the bag behind my hip. We head out the front door and circle around toward the river. Both dogs catch up.

I point to her dog. “What’s his name?”

“I don’t know. I guess I call him Coyote Dog. When I first saw him I didn’t know if he was a dog or a coyote.”

“He definitely has some coyote in him.”

“He probably had a name. I should ask Nancy if she knows.”

“Want me to ask him?” I try to be nonchalant. I don’t want to sound cocky.

She glances at me, her eyes big in the moonlight.

“Or, we could just give him a name, so I don’t have to freak you out any more than you already are.”

“Whatever you think, Merlin.”

“Okay give him a name.”

“Well if he’s hanging around with River now, he needs to fit in. How about Brook, Creek, Stream, Tributary?”

“Tributary. Now that’s a name.”

We walk for awhile, both lost in our own thoughts. Wet pine needles on the ground offer a damper to our step. The cloudless sky creates a dome of stars over our heads, and the moon casts enough light to guide our way. The temperature is crisp and invigorating, keeping us moving. We couldn’t have asked for a better night.

I lead her to the footbridge and across, the dogs’ gallop on the wooden planks breaking the serenity. We head into the woods, and when we reach the ravine it’s filled with an inch of standing water just as I expected.

“I’m going to have to carry you for awhile.”

She stops and turns toward me. “Why?”

“The fewer footprints we leave the better. I can make my own hard to track.”

I slide the bag around to my front and squat down, and she hops on my back without complaint. I can feel her breath on my neck, and I’m thankful for the layers of clothes separating us.

“Why don’t we just go the rest of the way like this?” she asks in my ear, her arms secure around my neck.

“If you wish.” I wouldn’t last for very long with her so close to me.

Halfway up the ravine I break into the woods again, and about fifty feet in I let her down. I lead her toward the bluffs and up the gently sloping side, the side we’ll retreat down if anyone meets us up here. This way she’ll be somewhat familiar with the trail. At the top, I take a look around. If we stay under the shadow of the trees, no one can see us. We can see two hundred and seventy degrees around us, leaving only one side where someone can sneak up. River can camp out on that side.

It wasn’t very long ago I had a completely different idea for bringing Liv up here. The thought of what I could have done makes me sick all over again. A coyote calls, followed by two more. River sprints up the steep side of the bluff, panting hard.

“She’s got the whole pack working for us tonight,” I say to Liv, grateful for the distraction from my dark thoughts. I lower my hand and River licks it. “Your reward is at home.” She looks at me with her head cocked and one ear sticking up. “Later,” I tell her, and she runs off to her friends to keep guard.

Noticing Liv’s silence, I glance at her. She’s hugging herself and watching me with guarded eyes. And something else, something new. Doubt? Mistrust? Fascination? In a few minutes I can find out. “I need to gather some rocks and place them in a circle. Want to help?”

“As long as I’m not the human sacrifice.”

“Not tonight.” I play along. She has no idea how true that would’ve been.

“So what are you? What do you call yourself?”

I start making a pile of rocks. “Trey.” I know what she’s getting at, but I’m going to make her work for it.

She throws a rock at me. I catch it and toss it in the pile.

“I’m referring to your…heritage. Your abilities. What can I call you? Witch? Warlock?”

“You can call me Master.” I can’t help myself.

She throws another rock at me, and I dodge, laughing.

“You’d get off on that, wouldn’t you?”

“It depends on which abilities you’re talking about.”

She straightens up and stares at me, trying not to smile.

“Do you disagree?”

She presses her lips together in a tight line. If we didn’t have work to do, I’d take her hard right now, and after it was over she’d have no reason to disagree.

“I’m not sure. I need another run-through before I make a decision.” She goes back to her work, walking along the edge of the pine forest surrounding us.

Before I can think of a comeback, she gasps and freezes. When I see her looking into the trees, I move to her side. I should have warned her.

“There’s a coyote right there!”

“I know. She’s just curious.” I take a rock from her hand and lead her by the arm to our pile. “She’s with River.” It may be simplifying the truth, but it is the truth. Her rigid stance relaxes, but she watches me again with that same look from before while I arrange the rocks in a large circle on the ground and spread the blanket in the middle. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

We sit on the blanket cross-legged, facing each other. I take the tablets out of the bag, remove the jar and unscrew the lid. I lean over and grab a nearby stick to dip into the jar. “You’re going to have to take off your gloves.”

I unwrap the tablets, placing hers on her knee, and mine on my knee.

“How can you tell them apart?”

“I just can. Hold out your hands, palms up.”

She offers her hands and watches me as I place a drop of the binding agent on each of her palms. I pull the page of notes out of my pocket, unfold it, and smooth it out on the ground. I pick up her tablet, and she opens her mouth. I drop it on her tongue.

“Just let it dissolve slowly. Don’t bite it.”

She nods. I place a drop of the binding agent on each of my palms.

“Now, hold your hands up, palms facing me.”

I press my palms against hers and close my fingers, binding our hands together. Her fingers close along with mine and I read the words from my page three times. She can’t understand the words, but she doesn’t ask me what they mean. I pick my tablet off my knee with my teeth. She calmly watches me while our tablets dissolve, and I observe the gradual change in her expression.

When her eyelids blink several times then fall, I gently lay her down, pushing her legs out from under her with my own so she can lie on her side and face me without breaking our joined hands. Her face is peaceful and her breathing slow, and I start to feel myself rising out of my own body, each of my senses strengthening and extending beyond what is normal for me. The rustle of leaves nearby is suddenly inside my ear. The brightness of the moon blinds me. The clothes on my body caress my skin with every microscopic fiber. The smell of the wet earth becomes a taste on my tongue. And then all my senses join together in one singular entity, not sight, sound, smell, touch, or taste, but something entirely new. A new dimension.

Chaos. Surrounded. I try to get my bearings, but I can’t see. I remind myself not to panic. Stimuli from my ears mix with stimuli from hers. All the fragments of sound become a din, nothing making sense. I relax, try to settle into it, and slowly, my vision adjusts.

Movement, all around me. I hear voices, traffic, a dog barking. I look to the right where cars are passing along a street. I look down and see I am wearing a silver ring carved with a complex design on each of my middle fingers. I turn my hands over and there are dark stains on both palms. Below them, my brown work boots. I look up and I’m in the middle of a busy sidewalk in a city. I start walking with the crowd.

Why am I here? For her. I have to find her. There are some things she needs to know. In all these people, how am I going to find her? I’m lost in this mass and it feels wrong. I try to move on my own but bodies force me along in their direction. She wouldn’t be here in this crowd. It’s just not right.

I see a grove of trees up ahead, and I cross the street toward them. Wait. There’s that dog again. That barking. It’s getting closer. My senses zone in on it in the way a familiar sound would capture my attention. I walk toward the barking and enter a small city park. Children are making wishes at a fountain. I pass them and see a row of Austrian Pine. There’s something red on the other side, and movement low to the ground, like a dog. I push through the pines, the sappy needles brushing against my face. A woman wearing a red coat is crouching down, petting a little black puppy. She throws a ball, and the dog bounds after it. She looks up. She smiles. It’s her.

Seeing her face in this unfamiliar city park deepens the throb of my heart. I take her hand. “We have work to do.”

“I know.” Her cheeks and nose are rosy.

“Is it always so busy around here?” There’s a chill in the wind I didn’t notice before.

She gives a slight shrug. “Not always.”

“Would you like to go somewhere quieter?”

“I’d love to.”

We’re standing on a deserted beach. I’m wearing cutoff jeans and a white T-shirt. She’s wearing a white skirt and sleeveless top that ties behind her neck. Her hair is twisted up on top of her head, and her bangs are swept to the side by the breeze. She’s looking down at our bare feet as the tide touches us, stealing the sand from under our toes. She lifts her arm to admire a bracelet of delicate pearly-white shells.

“So pretty.” She looks up at me. “You have good taste.”

I’m not sure how I knew she would like that. I raise my face to the sky. The sun’s position tells me it’s late afternoon. Time should pass at the same rate in here, and we’ll probably be done by the time the sun sets. Four, maybe five hours. I take her hand, soft and cool in mine. “Are you cold? I can make it warmer.”

I hear her answer like a reversed echo before she speaks. “No. It’s just perfect.” She looks out to sea.

We walk along the beach, the tide stroking our feet in its uneven rhythm, and I collect my thoughts. When I’ve been silent for awhile, she looks at me.

“What am I supposed to do?”

I squeeze her hand. “Nothing. Just enjoy the scenery. I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

With my thoughts organized, I begin my work. As we walk, I feed her information, with the most crucial pieces first in case I run out of time. The work isn’t difficult, but it requires my complete concentration. It seems easier since I know this will be successful. Her mind is completely open to me, and so similar to my own that I make a mental note to think about it again later.

When the sun touches the horizon, I search my mental database to make sure I haven’t missed anything important. I’m tempted to throw in something about roofing. It would be a good way to prove this worked.