Read The Gifted Ones: A Reader Online

Authors: Maria Elizabeth Romana

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BOOK: The Gifted Ones: A Reader
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Kumika shook her head. “Doubt it. She’s afraid of cats. Hates ’em.”

Wyatt shrugged. “Nobody likes cats.”

But Jillian contradicted him, “Oh no, Wyatt, that’s not accurate. Research shows that over sixty percent—”

“Jill!” Kumika threw her an aggravated look.

“Sorry.” She shrank back into her shell.

“All right, fine.” Archer was apparently ignoring them all and moving on with the discussion. “We’ve established that Elodie is most likely a Scholar of some type, like her mother. We don’t need to know exactly what her Gift is. We just need to make sure that we’re the ones to nurture it. She needs to know who she is and what she can become. It’s time to get planning. I know what we have to do, and we can’t let that dim-witted aunt of hers get in our way. Her work is done. Elodie is ours now.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two: The New Kid in Town

 

“You ready, El?”

Ellie was seated at her aunt’s white, antique dressing table, leaning in toward the mirror and struggling to insert a contact lens into her eye. “Hang on, Aunt Grace, I’ve almost got it.” Ellie dropped her hands, sat back in the chair, and blinked several times. “Whaddya think?”

Grace, who was now standing behind her, met her eyes in the mirror. She smiled softly. “It does make a big difference, honey. Now people can see those beautiful hazel eyes of yours.”

“Thanks so much for letting me get them, Aunt Grace. I know they were expensive, but at least now I don’t have to be a total freak.”

Grace laughed and picked up the curling iron. As she wrapped the first section of Ellie’s hair, she began, “Okay, honey, so tell me again, exactly where are you girls going tonight, and who will be there?”

Ellie let out an exaggerated sigh. She had long since accepted that the death of her mother Lucy had left baby sister Grace fearful of the world and everyone in it. She answered dutifully, “We’re going over to Nathan’s house to eat pizza and watch
The Vampire Duchess III
, and then we’re just gonna hang out for a while and play foosball and stuff, okay? And before you ask, yes, Nathan’s parents will be there.”

Grace rolled the next section of hair and held it carefully away from Ellie’s head. “Good. I like them.”

“You should; they’re even stricter than you are.” Ellie gave her aunt a devilish grin in the mirror.

Grace gave her one back. “I know. That’s why I’ve always encouraged your friendship with that boy. So who else will be there?” She unrolled the iron and laid the curl along Ellie’s neck.

“Well, me, Karen, Wanda, and Liane, of course. And Liane’s baby brother, ’cause otherwise her parents wouldn’t let her come, and Nathan and Tommy and Jammer, and this other kid, Aiden.”

Grace looked up in her head. Ellie assumed she was mentally matching faces with names. “Tommy, I remember, and Jammer…is he the boy who wants to be a professional surfer?”

Ellie giggled. “Uh, yeah. Not the sharpest bulb in the chandelier, but he’s really funny.”

“Okay, now I remember. You know, I think he has a crush on you—”

Ellie cranked her head around and looked directly up at Grace, nearly yanking the curling iron out of her hand. “Aunt Grace, get real! Surfer Boy forgets I’m alive until he needs help in Geometry. He only chases cheerleaders.” She turned back toward the mirror and picked up one of Grace’s lipsticks. She spoke matter-of-factly as she played with it, “Guys don’t go for dorky girls like me. I mean, not
that
way. Especially not ones wearing big ugly glasses and with a face full of stupid freckles.” Ellie wrinkled up her nose, studying her reflection in the mirror.

Grace rolled some loose tendrils around Ellie’s face. “Honey, you just wait. You’ve already gotten rid of the glasses. The rest will come. Believe me, your science-geek mom was a bit awkward in high school, too, but she was extremely popular in college, and fighting them off with a stick after that.” She leaned over, placing her face right next to Ellie’s, and spoke into the mirror, “And you look just like her.”

“Oh, yeah, I wish.” Ellie reached across the dressing table. She touched the photograph that sat just below the mirror, a youthful shot of her mother. In it, Lucy’s strawberry-blonde hair fell gently over her shoulders, surrounding her oval-shaped face and accenting her pale skin. Her clear blue eyes jumped out of the image, as though she could see right through to the present day. Ellie felt her nose tickling and saw it turning red in the mirror. She quickly shifted her eyes over to some of Grace’s jewelry and make-up. Anything to get her mind off her mother.

She supposed that Grace had noticed it as well, since she promptly changed the subject. “So, uh, who was that last boy you named? Aiken?”

“Aiden. Aiden Orcutt.”

“Right. I’m having trouble placing him. When did I meet him?”

Uh-oh. Ellie bit her lip. She’d been so hoping that lack of familiarity would slip by unnoticed. “Um, I don’t think you have. He’s new. He just moved here from, uh, Kansas, I think. But he’s really nice, Aunt Grace. Nathan said so. They’ve been hanging out.”

Grace set the curling iron down. “Now, wait a minute, Ellie. You know our rules—”

“I know, I know, but I haven’t had a chance—” The doorbell interrupted them, and Ellie jumped up. “Please, Aunt Grace, just this once, okay? I promise you can meet him at school next week, when you come pick me up. I’ll make sure. And I won’t be late coming home, not even five minutes. And I’ll text you every hour. Okay? Please?”

Grace sighed deeply and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she gave her head a little shake. “Okay, sweetheart. Go on. But I do expect to hear from you, every hour, on the hour.”

Ellie grinned, giving her aunt a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Aunt Grace, you’re the best!”

She raced out of the room and started down the stairs, but not without hearing her aunt’s final helicopter warning, “And grab your sweater on the way out. I know it’s April now, but it’s still chilly!”

 

# # #

 

As Ellie bounded down the stairs, Grace hurried across the hall to watch out the front window. The street below was lined with tightly-packed row houses, mostly early twentieth century in soft pastels with ornate trims. The tall skinny houses with their minimal lawns and scraggly trees—often ringed with black iron fences—gave the neighborhood a semblance of small town community, despite being minutes from the big city of Atlanta. Grace was happy enough here. She wasn’t a fan of densely populated metro living, but if one wanted to disappear, it was a swell way to do it.

Ellie’s friend Wanda had pulled up right out front, double-parking long enough for Ellie to run out and hop in. Grace could see the three other girls and the tag-along baby brother packed into the car as they drove off. She scanned the street, of course. Nothing out of the ordinary. Reluctantly, she stepped away from the window, hoping that Ellie understood that all her Mother-Henning had nothing to do with trust; it was just about keeping the girl safe.

Grace made her way down the stairs and into the parlor, stopping for a moment to admire the way the setting sun was bouncing around the room as it passed through the stained glass bordering the front window. This pretty old Victorian had so many layers of charm, no one would ever guess the kind of security system that lay beneath it. Nor would she want them to; if people knew how well-protected their home was, they might start wondering what there was to be protected.

Grace walked over to the old rolltop desk in the corner. The top stuck, as usual, as she tried to unroll it, but she liked to think of that as just one of the many charms of an antique. She’d learned a lot about antique furniture since moving to this artsy-fartsy section of Atlanta—mostly which pieces were truly valuable collectibles, and which pieces, like the rolltop desk, looked just as nice, but could be had for a song. Once she got the rolltop to behave, she pulled up the matching chair, opened her laptop, and headed straight for Ellie’s school website. She used her parent login to do some basic recon on Aiden Orcutt, then started a wider search. She found his FacePlace page and ferreted out some general information—previous schools, sports, friends, a few awards, a few photos. He appeared to be a good student, respectful, articulate, and apparently, never in trouble. Not a bad looking kid, either. Maybe he and Ellie would hit it off a bit, and Ellie would stop thinking that “boys don’t like dorky girls.”

So good, she could let it go now and relax. Well, almost. She took her search just a little deeper, to Aiden’s parents. That is, she tried. But she couldn’t find a name or a picture or even a reference to an occupation or employer. Odd. But not that odd. Not everyone wanted their whole life story on the internet for all the world to see, especially folks in Grace’s generation. Maybe Aiden’s parents weren’t into social media, or maybe they had different last names, or maybe they were dead, like Ellie’s parents. Now wouldn’t that be an unfortunate thing to have in common?

Grace shook her head, clearing out the morbid thought, and pushed herself away from the desk. Surely, she was just being her usual paranoid self. She felt it was a forgivable trait, considering the experiences that had led her to this life.

She decided she needed to take her mind off of it, and headed into the kitchen. A bowl of popcorn and a couple movies would do the trick—maybe for once, she could indulge in a silly comedy or a chick flick, instead of those classic black and white films that Ellie adored. By the time she was finished watching, Ellie would be home again, safe and sound. Grace walked into the kitchen, got out the popcorn, and poured some oil into the popper. She stared absently out the kitchen window at their tiny backyard while she waited for the oil to heat. It was almost dark out now. She glanced at the kitchen clock. Not quite time for Ellie’s first text.

The oil was taking just a bit too long. Grace’s mind started tossing out alternative explanations for New Boy’s absentee parents. Frequent travelers? Super religious? Secret service spy jobs? Uh, no, probably not. Dammit. Could she ever shut off the nagging voices in the back of her brain? She hurried back to her computer. She really didn’t want to ask for help, not from
them
anyway, but Ellie’s welfare was more important than any old grudges Grace was hauling around. She typed a few keystrokes, then waited until a familiar face appeared on the screen. She adjusted the volume so she could comprehend the Indian accent.

“Grace Nagle! It has been so long. Good to see you, mishti!”

Mishti. After all these years, he still greeted her with Indian pleasantries. Grace gave him a weak smile. “Hello, Rishi. Yes, sorry I haven’t been in touch. You know how it is—busy, busy, busy.”

“No problem, my friend. Your face is always a welcome sight. What can I do for you today?”

“I need a little background check. I’m sure it’s nothing, but you know I don’t have the reach you do.”

He grinned. “No one does, my lady. You have come to the right place. So, which young man are we checking up on tonight?”

She gave him a wry grin. “How did you know?”

“The lovely Elodie is sweet sixteen now. It is not hard to figure out what you would be wanting.”

“Mmm, s’pose not. Okay, his name is Aiden Orcutt.” She started typing again as she spoke, “I’m sending you what I’ve got so far. He’s a new student at Ellie’s school, and he’s been chumming around with her friend Nathan Woodruff. They’re all over at Nathan’s house tonight.” She paused to mentally chastise herself again for asking, then continued, “He sounds like a nice enough boy. I just want to double-check, ya know?”

“Of course, I completely understand. You can never be too safe. Give me a few minutes, all right? I will ring you back.”

The screen went black right about the time the smell of burning oil reached Grace’s nose. “Oh, crap!” Grace jumped up and ran into the kitchen, where a cloud of black smoke was rising from the pan on the stove. She grabbed the oven mitts, pulled the pan off the stove, and ran out the back door with it, just in time to set off the smoke alarm.

By the time she had dumped the burning oil, reset the alarm, shooed a stray cat off the back porch, and aired out the kitchen, she had to admit, she had managed to get her mind off Ellie’s new friend for a while. She checked the clock again. In fact, it had been thirty minutes since she’d spoken with Rishi. The man was nothing if not efficient, so why hadn’t he called her back?

The fear returned with a vengeance. Grace hurried over to the desk and started typing without even sitting down. Before she could dial him up, however, an incoming call chimed. She clicked her assent and started speaking, “Rishi, what did you—” But the face that appeared wasn’t Rishi. “Elmyra? I-I wasn’t expecting—”

“Elmyra.” The older woman made a face. “For heaven’s sake, dear, I wish you wouldn’t call me that. People will figure out how old I really am.”

Grace tried to smile. “Sorry, it’s just, uh, I haven’t got time to chat. I need to make a call—”

“You mean to Rishi? No need. He called us.”

Grace couldn’t hide her annoyance. “He did? Just because I had a little attack of paranoia…”

“No, dear, not paranoia. You were right.”

“Right, what?! What is it? Tell me!” A wave of heat washed over her, and a growing panic snatched her in its grasp.

BOOK: The Gifted Ones: A Reader
13.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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