Dawn, Edward, and Anders were going to take the second four-hour shift, with Anders administering the drugs Drina had been giving Tiny every twenty minutes to half an hour since the ordeal had started.
Leonora, Alessandro, and Teddy were supposed to take the third shift. For that one, Leonora, who it turned out had been a nurse before retiring some twenty years ago, would take over administering the drugs.
Mirabeau was supposed to rest during the second and third shifts, but Drina suspected the woman would insist on staying by Tiny. It was what she would have done if it were her life mate lying there.
“She seems to be fond of you and Tiny,” Drina murmured finally in response to Mirabeau’s comment. Stephanie had brought up the other couple a lot during the last few days. It was always Beau this, and Tiny that.
“The same is true of you two,” Mirabeau said quietly. “But then I think she’s desperate to connect to someone. She’s pretty alone right now.”
Drina nodded and glanced back to the girl again.
“She has a lot of questions,” Mirabeau murmured, drawing her attention again. Meeting her gaze, Mirabeau grimaced, and explained, “She doesn’t really know a lot about what she is now. She only had her sister to ask, and Dani would go to Decker to get the answers and, with them being new life mates, they would invariably get distracted and never get around to answering her, so she kind of gave up asking. The only other immortal female she’s had much contact with until now was Sam, and Sam and Mortimer are new life mates too, so—”
“Sam isn’t turned.”
Both women paused and glanced toward Stephanie as she made that announcement, alerting them to the fact that she was now awake.
Mirabeau peered at the girl blankly for a moment, then said, “Sure she is. Sam and Mortimer have been together since last summer. Mortimer would have turned her right away.”
Stephanie shook her head and stretched. “Sam refused because she didn’t want to leave her sisters behind in ten years.”
When Mirabeau frowned at this news, Drina asked with amusement, “Mortimer’s the head of the North American Enforcers, right?”
“Yeah, under Lucian,” Mirabeau murmured.
“And you’re an enforcer?” Drina asked.
Mirabeau nodded.
“So, haven’t you met this Sam? I mean, if she lives at the enforcer house, and you’re an enforcer, you’d have to go there quite a bit. Surely you would have met her and realized she was mortal?”
Mirabeau frowned, and it was Stephanie who answered, saying with amusement, “Beau’s been avoiding the house ever since I got there. She goes straight to the garage when she has to meet with Mortimer. And Sam pretty much arrived on the scene just days in front of Dani and me, so I doubt she even met her more than once thanks to trying to avoid me.”
Mirabeau looked alarmed, and quickly said, “It wasn’t you, Stephanie.”
“I know,” Stephanie said, some of her humor slipping away. “It was just my situation. Losing my family and all. It reminded you of losing your own, and so you tried to avoid me to avoid thinking of it.”
Drina glanced to Mirabeau curiously. “You’ve lost your family too?”
“It was a long time ago,” Mirabeau said quietly, her gaze moving back to Tiny when he stirred restlessly. She reached out and brushed her fingers along his cheek. Her touch seemed to soothe him.
“Dree’s parents were killed when Rome invaded Egypt, but she has all her brothers and sisters still,” Stephanie announced.
“How do you know that?” Drina asked with surprise.
“You just thought it,” Stephanie said with a shrug.
Drina just stared at her. She was pretty sure she hadn’t just thought that though she supposed it could have been stirred in her subconscious. Still—recalling the accident, she asked, “You were reading Harper’s mind during the accident? It’s how you knew there was something wrong with the brakes?”
“I told you, I don’t really read you guys. You shout your thoughts at me,” she said, looking uncomfortable, and then admitted, “Except Lucian. Him I actually have to concentrate a bit to read.”
“Concentrate a bit?” she queried, eyes narrowing.
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “With most people, mortals and immortals alike, it’s like a freaking radio playing on full volume, and I can’t turn it down or shut it out. But with Lucian, I actually have to concentrate to hear what he’s thinking. Anders is kind of like that too.”
“Anders?” Drina asked sharply, aware that her voice had been sharper than she’d intended. Lucian was still relatively new in the life-mate game, and new life mates were known to be easily read, which could explain away what Stephanie was saying. However, Anders was old and mateless. Even Mirabeau probably couldn’t read him. Yet, Stephanie, who had only been an immortal for six months, could.
Drina glanced to Mirabeau and saw the troubled expression on her face and knew without a doubt that it reflected her own expression.
“Well, we already knew you had mad skills when it comes to reading thoughts,” Harper said mildly, apparently awoken by their discussion. His hand covered Drina’s and squeezed gently in warning.
Getting the message, she tried to blank out the worry from both her mind and expression and noted Mirabeau’s suddenly clearing her own expression as well. Harper continued, “You’re a whiz at reading minds. Have you noticed any other new skills since your turn?”
“Like what?” Stephanie asked, looking uncomfortable.
“Anything that is different now that you’ve been turned,” Harper said easily. “Some edentates have special talents other immortals don’t. Maybe you’re one of the gifted ones.”
She bit her lip briefly, but then admitted tentatively, “Well, I know when life mates are around, and usually who is whose. Like I knew Dawn and Edward were mated and Alessandro and Leonora were each other’s mates before you guys introduced them even though Dawn was helping Leonora in the kitchen while Alessandro and Edward set the table.”
“Really?” Drina asked with amazement. “How?”
“There’s this kind of electricity between them, and this energy that comes from them,” she said, and then frowned and tried to explain, “The closest thing I can compare it to is what comes from cell phones and satellites and stuff. I sense these kind of . . . waves or streams of something coming from cells and satellites. It’s the same kind of thing that flows between life mates. Like a million nanos are sending out text messages back and forth between them.”
Frustration crossed her face, and she said, “I don’t know how to describe it any better than that. But anyway, I knew the minute you got here, Dree, that you were Harper’s because both your nanos started buzzing.”
“I wonder if that’s how Marguerite zeroes in on finding life mates for each other,” Mirabeau said thoughtfully. “Maybe she picks up on these waves too.”
“But Marguerite can find them without their being in the same room. I was in New York, and Harper was here in Canada when she decided I would suit him. She wouldn’t have sensed waves between us,” Drina said with a frown.
Stephanie shrugged. “Well, she probably recognized that the sounds are the same from both of you.”
“Sounds?” Harper queried gently.
She looked frustrated again. “I don’t know what to call it. Frequencies maybe.”
“Marguerite can’t be finding life mates by zeroing in on these frequencies,” Mirabeau realized suddenly. “Tiny is mortal. In fact, most of the life mates she’s put with immortals have been mortal. There wouldn’t yet be nanos in the mortal to communicate with.”
“True,” Drina murmured, then glanced to Stephanie and said, “Were you able to tell that Tiny and Mirabeau were life mates?”
She nodded.
“How?” Mirabeau asked.
“The electricity you each give off is the same.”
“Electricity?” Drina asked with a frown. The girl had mentioned electricity and energy earlier, but she’d thought she’d just been using two different terms to try to describe one thing.
“Yeah. Well, I call it electricity,” she said with a sigh that spoke of her frustration with not knowing the proper terms for what she was trying to explain.
Drina supposed it was like trying to explain color to a blind person. The teenager struggled to try to make them understand, though.
“It’s energy too, but different than the waves thing. This energy is more physical, like a shock wave. It makes my hair stand on end on the back of my neck. It’s not so bad when there’s only one life-mate couple around, but tonight, with so many mated couples here in the house”— Stephanie grimaced—“it’s like my finger is stuck in a plug socket.”
“That doesn’t sound very pleasant,” Drina said with concern.
“It isn’t,” she said wearily. “But then neither are all the voices in my head. It’s easier when there are only a couple of you around at a time. With so many of you in the house, it’s like several radio stations playing at the same time, all with a different talk program on. It gets maddening and exhausts me.”
“You should have said something,” Mirabeau said with a frown.
“Why?” Stephanie asked, almost with resentment. “It’s not like you could do anything about it.”
“We don’t know that,” Mirabeau said at once. “Maybe if you went up on the top floor, and the rest of us stayed on the main floor, it would make it better.”
“She can’t be left alone,” Drina reminded her.
“Besides, it wouldn’t matter as long as I’m in the house with you all,” Stephanie assured her. “The floors and walls don’t seem to stop it, at least not inside. Although going outside helps muffle it quite a bit if you’re all inside. I’m not sure why, though.”
“This is an old Victorian house with connected double outer walls,” Harper said quietly, and when Drina raised an eyebrow, he explained, “If you’ve ever looked at the bricks on the outside of the house, each row has three or four normal-sized or uniform bricks and then a small end piece, then more normal sized and another small one and so on. It’s because they built an outer wall and an inner wall. The small bricks are actually ones that connect the outer wall to the inner. It made for good insulation or something . . . or perhaps just sturdier buildings. But that was how they were built when this house was erected.” He shrugged, and then suggested, “The double brick, and then plaster on top of that probably creates more of a barrier for whatever Stephanie is picking up.”
“I don’t suppose you guys would let me just step out on the deck for a couple of minutes?” Stephanie asked hopefully. “Even a few minutes respite would help.”
Drina exchanged a glance with Mirabeau and knew at once that the other hunter, like herself, wanted to say yes but just couldn’t. Especially when they were on high alert. They had to consider Stephanie’s safety first.
“That isn’t necessary,” Harper said suddenly, sitting upright in his seat. “The porch off Elvi and Victor’s bedroom was an add-on sometime after the house was built. They’ve insulated it and put in an electric heater, but the wall between it and Elvi’s room is the original double-walled construction. It’s as good as standing outside in that regard except it’s heated, furnished, and has a television and music system and everything.” He smiled, and explained, “Elvi and Victor spruced it up a bit to use it as their own private living room, for when they feel like getting away by themselves.”
Mirabeau smiled. “Well that sounds perfect; why don’t you two take Stephanie out there and watch a movie or something?” When Drina hesitated and glanced toward Tiny, Mirabeau glanced at her watch, and said, “It’s only fifteen minutes until the next shift, and Tiny seems quiet enough for now. We should be fine.”
Drina checked her own watch and said, “It’s time for his next shot in five minutes. I’ll get it ready and give it to him before we go.” Standing, she glanced over her shoulder to Stephanie, and suggested, “Why don’t you run down and get us some snacks or something? Maybe pick a move from the DVD collection in the living room.”
“On it!” the girl said, cheerful now, apparently at the prospect of a respite from the constant voices and energy. She stood and rushed out of the room.
Silence fell briefly in the room as Drina prepared a needle, and then Mirabeau said solemnly, “This isn’t good.”
“No,” Harper agreed on a sigh.
Drina didn’t comment. She knew what they were referring to. Stephanie’s abilities. Harper had tried to sway it like they were a good thing, a special ability she’d been blessed with, but the truth was it might be a curse.
There were very few edentate in their society, most were from the time of the fall of Atlantis or shortly after. Very few had come afterward for the simple reason that male edentates never turned mortals. If they found a mortal life mate, the council assigned an immortal the task of turning that mortal rather than create another edentate with the flawed nanos. Any offspring they then had took on the mother’s blood and nanos and would be immortal as well.
The same was true for female edentates, except if they did have children, that baby would take on its mother’s blood and nanos and so would be edentate.
The council hadn’t outlawed edentates having children, but most refused to do so for fear of having to watch their progeny die or be killed as a mad thing. There had been a few born, but not more than a handful since the fall of Atlantis. They were rare. Between that and the length of time since the no-fangers had been believed to be wiped out, little was known about the madness that turned an edentate into the dreaded no-fanger. It was usually assumed that in a turn, the madness was evident as soon as the turn was done, that the turnee came out of it screaming mad. However, there were rumors and legends that suggested it might not be that abrupt, that they could still come out of the turn seemingly fine, but then shortly thereafter go mad, driven there by something, though the tales had never specified what that something might be.
Drina had always disregarded the rumors as ghost stories told around a campfire, but now wondered if constantly being bombarded by people’s thoughts and these energy waves and the electricity Stephanie spoke of might not be the cause. She hoped not. She liked Stephanie and wouldn’t want to have to see her put down like a rabid dog.
“Lucian will have to be told,” Mirabeau said quietly, when Drina didn’t comment, and then added, “Maybe he knows a way to help her.”