Crowned (42 page)

Do you know how many drifters there are in the world? Less than a thousand. You’ve only existed for four generations, but every single one of you is a miracle. A healer. For decades your kind has lived in hiding. You can change everything. You can save them. You can save your cell.

“My sisters are close,” she whispers. “They’re waiting for me, but I can’t go. The people need me.”

Your cell needs you, too. All you have to do is come with us and meet them. They’re not going to take you away. Just meet them.

She shakes her head.

Time for Plan B.
I’m in love with a drifter,
I tell her, and her eyes widen.
I know – it’s taboo. He’s half-drifter – his mother is ungifted. His clan doesn’t understand his bond with me, but they have to accept it because as much as he loves them, he loves me, too.
I take her hand, and her energy sends a painful jolt through me.
It’s possible to live in two worlds. I’m proof of that.
If you want to, you can do it, too.

I release her. She doesn’t say a word. After a moment she gets up and runs into the house.

“What did you say?” Ntatemogolo hisses at me, brows bristling.

“Give her a minute. She’ll come with us.”

“How can you be so certain?”

I smile. Sure enough, Maria emerges a few minutes later with a bag slung over her shoulder and shoes on her feet.

“One meeting,” she says.

I nod. One meeting is all it takes.

* * *

Johannesburg, South Africa

I have never seen so many good-looking people in one place. It’s like a beauty convention. After a few minutes my eyes adjust and I’m no longer floored by the pretty drifter faces, or the gorgeous garden of Serame’s massive estate, or the amount of psychic energy fizzing in the air.

“Overwhelmed?” Rakwena whispers in my ear, handing me a glass of juice.

“Yes! How many drifters are here?”

“About twenty cells. Most of the South African clan, the Botswana clan, one cell from Ghana, one from Nigeria, one from Kenya, one from Angola…say, two hundred drifters. Plus you and your grandfather.” He grins. “You
should
be nervous. We’re scary.”

I give him a look. “I’m wearing a dress picked by Lebz and shoes picked by Kelly. My biggest fear is tripping over my own feet.”

He lets his gaze roam lazily over my pretty red cocktail dress in a way that makes me flush. “I knew you looked too good to have dressed yourself.”

I give him a playful shove. Maria’s visit to her cell resulted, as expected, in her agreeing to join them. After that she met the council, and subsequently representatives from other councils. Serame, hostess with the mostest from what I hear, insisted on throwing a huge dinner to celebrate. Maria is here with her cell. Her grandmother decided to remain in D’Kar, and since Maria doesn’t want to leave her alone for too long, she and her sisters will head back tomorrow.

As grateful as I am that Serame invited me to this soiree, I’m feeling the pressure. In some ways I realise I’m here on approval. I’ve set a precedent, and all the drifters will be monitoring my relationship with Rakwena, searching for signs of trouble.

“Hey, fortune teller! Why are you hiding in the corner?”

Elias is even louder than usual, which leads me to suspect he’s put something in his juice. Wine is being served, but only to the grown-ups, and he, Spencer and Reetsang seem a tad too boisterous. He comes over and slaps me on the back.

“I’m not hiding, I’m talking to Rakwena.”

“In other words, go away,” says Rakwena with a grin.

Elias laughs. “I’m just the messenger. Your grandfather’s calling you.” Her jerks his thumb over his shoulder.

Rakwena leads me to where my grandfather is standing with a tall, dark man with very straight teeth, then excuses himself.

“I want you to meet someone,” says Ntatemogolo. “Sangu, this is my granddaughter. Connie, meet Sangu Dele, the other first-generation drifter.”

“Oh, hi!” I’m thrilled to finally meet him after everything I’ve heard. I hold out my hand and he kisses it. Normally I’d find that weird and creepy, but somehow he makes it seem old-school and sweet.

“What a pleasure to finally meet the famous Conyza Bennett,” he says, beaming at me. “You are a heroine of our times. All of us – all the gifted – owe you a great debt.”

I blush. “No, you don’t. If anyone’s a hero, it’s you and Maria.”

His eyes bore into mine, and suddenly I feel a familiar sensation, one I didn’t expect to feel again. For a moment I panic and snatch my hand out of his grip. There it is again – someone tapping at the base of my neck, and then sliding up to my brain, a cold filament of consciousness. It can’t be. I stare at Sangu, searching for signs of the Puppetmaster, but of course there are none. His eyes are earnest and querying – and innocent.

My fear subsides in a wave of relief and joy. He’s a telepath! I lower my barrier, curious.

I’m sorry,
he says, his voice hovering politely at the edge of my thoughts.
I didn’t mean to startle you. Should I withdraw?

No! No, I just wasn’t expecting it.
I turn to stare at Ntatemogolo in wonder, and he chuckles.

“Surprise,” he says with a smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He raises his eyebrows. “If I had told you, it would not be a surprise.” He pats Sangu’s shoulder. “I will leave the two of you to talk.”

I turn my attention back to the wonder in front of me. I still can’t quite believe it. The Ultima did say there would be other telepaths, but I honestly didn’t think I’d meet one. Not yet, anyway.

I’ve been looking for another telepath for years,
he tells me.
It seems our gift is rare.

Too rare.
I study his face.
How far is your range?

He smiles.
Not nearly as far as yours.

We chat a bit longer and make plans to reconnect once we’re back in our respective countries, then Rakwena comes to steal me away. As he leads me to a quiet corner of the garden I gush shamelessly over Sangu.

Rakwena grunts in response, and I look at him.

“Are you jealous?”

“No,” he snarls.

I laugh. “He’s old!”

“Thirty isn’t old.”

“Are you joking? He might as well be fifty. Besides, he’s not my type. No scars, no tattoos, and not a spark in sight.” I look into Rakwena’s eyes and realise that losing me to a handsome older telepath isn’t his real concern. “You’re afraid he’ll become my new Puppetmaster, aren’t you?”

He sighs. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m glad you’ve found someone like you, and I’m glad he’s not a lunatic this time. It’ll be good for both of you. It’s just that you share a connection that shuts me out.”

“Like how the drifter bond shuts
me
out?”

He looks sheepish. “You’re right. I’m being stupid.”

“No, you’re not. I’m jealous of the drifter bond, too. But I like that we have lives outside each other. Without all that other stuff, we’d get bored.”

He draws me close, slipping his arms around my waist, and regards me with a thoughtful expression. “You’ve grown. When we met you were so scared of your gift you wanted to get rid of it. Remember?”

I nod. The idea of life without my gift and all the chaos that comes with it is unimaginable now. I love being gifted. I love being strong and confident, and knowing what I want. It’s hard to believe that I was once content to hide in the shadows for fear that someone would notice me. People
should
notice me. I’m awesome.

Rakwena brushes his lips against my forehead, sending a tingle through me. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

I smile. He’s never called me that before. I like it. I sink into his embrace and tilt my head back to look into the starry sky. It’s a gorgeous night, and I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I never allowed myself to want a lot from life because I thought anything more than a simple, normal existence was too much to ask. I remember what Thuli said about not wanting to be mediocre. I was the opposite. My greatest desire was to be mediocre.

But not any more. Now my whole life stretches out before me, and I’m excited to see how it unfolds. I’m open to the unexpected, but I’ve also let myself make plans and set goals. I’m going to be a renowned psychologist, helping gifted and ungifted alike. I’m going to be as brilliant as Dad and as insightful as Ntatemogolo. I’ve faced odds I never thought I could, and beat them. If need be, I’ll do it again. And through it all I’ll have the perfect man at my side to support me and give me strength. Maybe one day I’ll get all warm and fuzzy at the thought of the word “husband” and the pitter-patter of little gifted feet, but for now “best boyfriend ever” will do just fine.

I lower my head and look into Rakwena’s twinkling eyes. How could I ever have wanted a normal life? Normal is dull and grey. There are no drifters or blue sparks in normal. There’s no chaos, no surprises. No colour. I’m a huge fan of colour.

Flashing that cocky, sexy, wonderful grin, Rakwena leans forward to kiss me. I close my eyes and lose myself in the magic. Tingle, tingle, tingle.

Glossary

ISBN: 978 1 474 03400 5

Crowned

Copyright © 2015 Cheryl S. Ntumy

Published in Great Britain (2015)

by Carina, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18–24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

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