Water (10 page)
Micah narrowed his eyes, but he got another plate and restocked it. He pushed it in front of me. I ignored it, raising an eyebrow at him.
After a brief stare down, he sighed. "Fine, but you’re not going to like it."
I took my plate and sat down at the small round table in the corner of the room. "I am all ears."
Micah loaded a plate for him and sat down beside me. "Funny. I thought you were all stomach."
I didn’t laugh.
He rolled his eyes. "There is a small team that goes out on missions which will consist of you, me, and Alex. Cato will go on occasions, but Shawn will always be there. The team can be augmented by elementals. Elementals can manipulate one element, but not all of them, like you. Even though you might be stronger with your powers, elementals specialize in earth, wind, water, or fire, and can be more effective because they specialize in it. Kind of like subject matter experts. Shawn is our Medwin. He controls the merging of each person’s force. With the Gaia, specifically, he is like a lens. He can be convex, magnifying your powers, or concave to dilute them. Shawn can also block powers completely. He is just as necessary as any of us." Micah paused to take a few bites and let me process the information.
"So I am going to have to work with him…no matter what? There is no one to replace him, or me?" Micah shook his head. I looked down, fiddling with my plate. I kept my lips tight, trying to suppress a frown.
"I’ll talk to him, but there is no reason to worry. He is rough around the edges, and is still grieving a recent…loss. But he’s no danger to you, really."
Micah continued to reassure me, but he wasn’t the one standing in the line of fire when Shawn shot daggers with his eyes. He also seemed to forget the recent scuffle he broke up between us not days ago.
We finished our breakfast, and I barely put down my fork,
yes I was using a fork this time
, when I was hustled through a five minute shower and off to my first weapons training class with Alex.
Alex was on the mend. No doubt more recovery was involved after sitting in that lab than from the accident that put him there in the first place. It was a brutal place, that lab. I walked toward Alex, who was standing in a large open gym next to a table with an array of guns.
He was busy reading notes on a clipboard. I picked up one of the instruments, and ran my finger over the barrel. It felt more like plastic than metal. I tested its fit in my hand with my finger over the trigger. "These loaded?"
He flung the clipboard on the table and snatched the gun from my hand. "First lesson – don’t point the gun at anything you don’t intend to shoot."
I realized it had been aimed directly at his manhood. "Oh, sorry."
"No harm done, yet. Although with you, I have the medical team on standby." He gestured at a set of bleachers where several men were playing cards. I wanted to join them. "But to answer your question, no – this is a dart gun. You need one of these for it to be effective." He opened a thin, black case and produced a large dart with several red plumes flaring out the end. He went down the table, introducing me to the various guns and ammunition. There were stun guns, flare guns, handguns, rifles; even a crossbow and arrows.
"Why is all this necessary? If there is trouble, I will just, you know – hit the bad guy with my magic. Right?"
"Wrong."
"Wrong?" I swallowed a small lump of frustration that began to form in my throat.
Alex spun around and started loading one of the smaller handguns. "Pretend I am the bad guy. Stop me with your magic."
"Um…okay." I was at a loss at how to proceed.
"Better hurry Kaitlyn, the gun is almost loaded."
I stammered more, then hurriedly closed my eyes to meditate. I could think better with a clear head.
"Kaitlyn…" I opened my eyes and found myself looking straight down a cold, dark barrel. The handgun didn’t seem so small anymore. "You would be long gone by now. Every situation cannot be predicted, so it is best to be prepared in as many ways as possible." He lowered the gun.
I let out breath I didn’t realize I was holding, "You just broke your first rule."
He smiled and shrugged, "Had to prove a point. Now, let's do some target practice."
Drama
"Nice form," Alex said. I had just taken my last shot with the crossbow. "Now if only we can improve that aim."
"Don’t make me regret taking that plunge after you in the lake."
He laughed and responded, "You probably will after tomorrow’s lesson – whips."
The medical team took their leave and Alex began packing up his weapons. Micah, who had been sitting in the background, observing the entire lesson, came to retrieve me, "Come on. Lunch."
He walked away without checking to see if I would follow. I ran to catch up. "What’s for lunch?"
"Food."
I glanced up - only to find his face a mask of stone.
This is why I don’t do relationships; too much drama.
My mood dampened as we walked in an uncomfortable silence. What had I done wrong? I mulled over the possibilities in my head.
He broke the silence. "There are people who don’t agree with what we do and often try to stop us using whatever means necessary. We need to be prepared to defend ourselves."
"I understand that," I said, eyeing him cautiously.
He shook his head. "My point is, you should take all of this seriously. These lessons may save your life one day. You should spend your time learning, not joking around with the instructors."
It dawned on me, and I smiled. "Are you jealous?"
He tightened at my question, his shoulders pulling back.
I stopped him by placing my hand on his arm. "You have nothing to worry about – Alex is fun, and good at what he does. There is nothing more to it than that."
He looked at me for a long time and I found myself being sucked in by those dark green eyes. A short, quick buzz inside my head drew me from my trance. It was coming from Micah. I took a quick step away from him. "What are you doing?"
The tension in his body had disappeared. He even offered a teasing smile. "No matter. I believe you. Come on, you are late for lunch with Cato."
Micah took off toward the kitchen, but all I could do was stand there; a wave of nausea washing through me.
"Are you coming?" Micah shouted from halfway down the hall.
I shook my head in confusion, and followed.
He sat me down at the small round table in the corner, it was already set with lunch for two. "I’m going to leave you alone with Cato so you two can talk. Are you going to be okay with that?"
"Shouldn’t you ask if
he
is going to be okay with that?" I said sarcastically as I sat down.
Micah leaned over me. "If it gets a little…stormy…in here, I wouldn’t mind making another intervention." With that declaration, he kissed me on the forehead and was gone.
I was halfway finished with my sandwich by the time Cato arrived. He strode in slowly with his shoulders back and head held high. His body language suggested he was overcompensating for something, perhaps fear. Still, he exuded a regal presence. I suppressed the urge to stand up at his entrance.
He stopped at the table, looked down at me warmly and gestured to the empty seat. "May I?"
I swallowed what was still in my mouth. "Be my guest." I folded my hands in my lap, but that was as humble as I cared to get. I studied his face closely while he made a sandwich for himself. There were bruises, but not nearly as bad as I expected. They were yellowish in color, nearing the end of their life.
I cleared my throat. "How are you feeling?"
He smiled. "I’m all right."
I opened my mouth to apologize but he spoke over me.
"There is no need to apologize. Your reaction was no less than we should have expected, considering. Besides, it wasn’t anything a little dirt couldn’t handle."
He had managed to ease most of my guilt, but he did nothing for the part of me that was still angry at him. I leaned back in my chair, and crossed my arms. "How is that everyone seems to be reading my mind as of late?"
"Kaitlyn, I can assure you I cannot read your mind. I assumed you were getting ready to apologize because you would be a questionable character if you didn’t feel the least bit remorse for what happened. But I cannot speak for anyone else. Is it Micah? The connection between a Gaia and her Ardwyad is always different."
"Oh, yes. Micah the Ard-WEE-yad. My protector." I faked a southern accent, and swooned.
Cato swallowed a bit of his sandwich, "I used to be an Ardwyad."
I huffed, attempting to quell my sarcasm. After a few minutes, I sat up straight and tried to be cooperative, "Has Micah been an Arr, Awd…" I stumbled over the word.
"Ardwyad." Cato corrected.
I tried again, "Has Micah been the Ardwyad for someone before?"
"Oh, yes. Several times over."
My stomach dropped, the picture of someone else sharing a relationship similar to what I had with Micah hit me stronger than I would have liked. Them in bed together… I forced my mind away from it.
Cato continued, "But like I said, the connection is always different. He has never before reported the ability to read his Gaia's mind. It had always been purely about reading the energy she was giving off or taking. However, there is no doubt something more between you two. Many have mentioned they felt a heightened sense of charged energy when you are together." Cato hesitated and cleared his throat. "Also, Micah has never shared his room with another Gaia."
I felt my cheeks get hot.
Great, people are actually seeing sparks go off around us.
"What about mind-reading?" I asked.
He put down his sandwich, "What about it?"
It was my turn to clear my throat. "I’m pretty sure Micah can read my mind."
Cato leaned forward. "Do tell."
"We were walking here, a few minutes ago, arguing."
"About what?"
"That isn’t important," I said. Cato didn’t need to know the details of our relationship. "But he thought I was lying until he, well, read my mind. At least, I think he did."
"What made you think that?"
"We were looking at each other, not talking, and I felt, well, a tickle on the inside of my head."
"Were you thinking of anything in particular?" Cato asked. "It could have purely been something inside your head."
I shook my head. "I got a very distinct feeling that it was coming from Micah. And I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular, I was just sort of, you know, getting lost in his eyes." I rethought that last part, "Well, maybe you don’t know."
"No, but I can imagine."
My cheeks grew even hotter. Thankfully Cato dismissed it. "I suppose I need to do some research on it." Finished with only half of his sandwich, Cato wiped off his mouth and brushed off his lap. I could hear him mumbling under his breath, "I need to call that professor and get more books on telepathy, and find those notes on parapsychology..." He stood up and without saying a word to me started for the door, "…and follow up on this energy thing. It could explain Shawn’s behavior…"
I stood, following him into the living room. "Umm, excuse me?"
He acknowledged me by a slight turn of his head but he kept on walking. "Sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to be so rude. I will get back to you when I can be of some help."
"Wait, you said something about Shawn’s behavior?"
"He has been a little on edge as of late. He probably sensed the heightened energy once you arrived and also when you and Micah are together." Cato lowered his voice. "His instincts are to keep the status quo by suppressing or alleviating the source."
I stopped and threw my arms in the air.
How is everyone just blowing this off?
Cato, a few steps ahead, stopped suddenly and turned back, "Oh, I almost forgot. You have a date with me tonight."
I dropped my arms by my side in defeat, "A date?"
"Yes, once it gets dark I’ll send for you. We are going to start working with your newfound powers." Without further explanation, Cato turned on his heel and headed toward the library.
I watched him go, still stunned by the conversation. No one takes the new kid on the block seriously.
Probably not until it was too late, anyway
. I made no move to return to the kitchen. I wasn’t in the mood to wait around to be retrieved by Micah and herded off to another training event.
It wasn’t long before Micah appeared anyway. He was struggling to balance a tall stack of books in his arms.
I looked at him suspiciously. "Don’t tell me I have to run with those, now."
"No, but you do have to read them." He motioned for me to follow.
He set the books down on an end table in the living room, and I half expected it to buckle from the weight. The wood creaked but held. He motioned for me to sit. I took one of the couches for myself, sinking into the deep cushions, and looked ahead at the stone fireplace sitting prominently at the front of the room. The air smelled of incense, hitting me in waves while I looked around. Knickknacks lined the shelves in a way that might have given the room character had they been arranged correctly. As it was, it looked like a man’s overdone attempt at decorating.
