Dying to Remember (The Station #2) (14 page)

Jess's hands
freeze in her hair as she stares into the mirror, slowly nodding her head, her
eyes filling with tears as I speak to her.
No matter what happens, Jess…live
well, love hard and laugh always.

I'm back.
I'm
home
. As I have done with every return to the Station before, I curl my
toes under, feeling the coolness of the glassy surface below my feet. I deeply
inhale the air around me and lick my lower lip. Back in my body once again, I
relish the feel of my limbs, of the soft fabric of my tank top and pajama
shorts as they rub against my skin as I move toward the door. I lose myself in
the feel of it all…so grateful to be back.

Half-expecting
to see Niles on the other side looking worried or concerned, I set my face into
a hard and unreadable expression before I leave the small departure room. But
no one stands in the depot lobby waiting for me. Simultaneously feeling bummed
and relieved, I let my shoulders slump forward as I run my hand along the port
wall, feeling the smooth edges of the assignment cards until my fingertips land
on Jess's. The connection to her world and mine is all in that little piece of
slate-colored glass not much bigger than an index card.

Cradling the
card in my hand, I turn it over, getting lost in the shadowy pearlescent glow
that moves inside, curious as to what it is exactly, and how it works. I'm so
engrossed in my wonder that when the second portal door opens with a rush of
sound, I jump. A man just a few years older than me with shoulder-length brown
hair steps out all smiles. I struggle to hold my composure while forcing myself
to smile back at him and look only at his face while he approaches the wall,
plucking his assignment card from it.

We nod at
each other before he turns, leaving the room first. While I watch him exit the
departure room, my eyes naturally cast downward as he walks, hovering over the
bareness of his backside. For the first time, I've just come face to face with
a nude Volunteer.

Welcome
back
, I think to myself with a chuckle.

After
returning my card to the Consignment Department check-in desk, I wander to the
back of the room to study the bulletin board. It's always full of Assignment
faces I don't recognize but I easily pick out Kerry-Anne and Mallory. And
Sloan.
Sloan.

Just thinking
about seeing him again sends delicious chills up and down my spine. I remember
the silken feel of his lips on mine, and the refreshing smell of him. The
sensation of my body molding into his fills my memory and I turn away from the
bulletin board, closing my eyes long enough to picture the angular features of
Sloan's face. His bright eyes haunt me, and his perfectly shaped nose and the
strong line of his jaw make me smile.
And his hair.
Never in my life
have I wanted to run my hands so badly through another person's
hair
.
Sloan is my drug, and I'm addicted.

Slowly I
amble through the crowd until I find myself outside. According to the board,
everyone was still on their cases, so it left just me from my little group to
sit at the fountain and daydream. Returning from an assignment was exhausting.
I have to rifle through my mind and separate myself from the feelings I had
with Jess. I was with her for almost a year. Even in Station time, it was a
lengthy case. But I felt good, as if I had accomplished the unthinkable.

Rolling onto
my stomach, I dip a hand into the chilled water and push it around, as I do
every time I have more than ten seconds to lounge at the fountain. It's the
fastest and most reliable way to calm my nerves. As the water sloshes around my
hand, I vow to not take another assignment until Sloan returns.

Like a movie,
I replay our first kiss over and over again until a voice directly above
startles me. With a slight splash, my hand jumps in the water, flinging
droplets into my face.

After swiping
my dry hand over my eyes, I wipe the water from them and push myself up into a
sitting position. Without turning around, I know who has spoken. And I silently
chastise myself for not remembering him sooner.

"Rush,"
I say over my shoulder.

"Am I
really that forgettable?" he asks with a snicker.

I turn to
find him standing at the fountain rim, just behind me. Dressed in the same
white clothes he wore when I last saw him. He hasn't changed, except for the
surprised expression on his face. He is still just as dangerously beautiful and
equally mysterious as I remember him.

"I
didn't forget about you. I just…didn't remember you is all."

"That
isn't the same thing?" His laughter went well with the benign expression
on his face. I begin to think the sharpness of his personality has lost just a
smudge of arrogance since our first meeting, but that quickly changes when Rush
sits down beside me, making no attempt to hide his up and down glance of my
body.

Pulling my
knees in to my chest, I arch an eyebrow at him, waiting for his curious gaze to
settle on my face. When it does, he clears his throat but surprisingly locks
his eyes with mine, rather than glancing somewhere else. I refuse to be the
first one to look away.

"You've
been gone a long time, Piper Willow," he says softly, unblinking.

"Yeah? I
thought there was no concept of time here?"

He lifts his
chin but still refuses to break eye contact. "True, time does not matter
here. But when one as lovely as yourself is absent for such a considerable
amount of time, it's noticeable."

"Noticeable?"
I'm intrigued.

"Yes, I
noticed your absence."

"My
absence," I say quietly.

"Will
you be repeating everything I say, Piper Willow?"

"Maybe
when you stop calling me by both my names, I'll think about it."

"I
see."

I can't help
smiling at Rush as he shifts uncomfortably on the hard fountain rim, his legs
looking impossibly long compared to my shorter ones. It's my smile that breaks
his eye contact. Rush grins and then briefly looks down at the hand that rests
between us.

Ha! I won
that round, Rush!
I blush when his eyes dart back to mine; something dark
and wanting lingering near the surface.

Sighing, I
lift my hands up in surrender, "What is it that you want, Rush?"

"We need
to talk about your last assignment, or did you forget we would be
watching?"

"We? Who
exactly is 'we'?" I stare hard at him, wishing I could penetrate his
thoughts just as he is able to read mine.

"The Mentors
and myself, of course. We were curious to see how things went for you," he
says with a smirk as he rises from the fountain, towering over me like a Greek
God.

"And?"
Despite my irritation with him, I'm beyond curious.

"And…we
were
not
disappointed. Come, let's speak."

Hesitantly I
take his outstretched hand and let him gently pull me to my feet. Standing
before him, I feel exposed and half-naked in my skimpy sleep clothes. For what
had to be the seven hundredth time, I wish I had picked out a last outfit with
slightly more material.

***

I stare
nervously at the descended step in the center of the room where I first met
Rush - only more people are apparently expected to be in attendance this time.
We're the first two to arrive, and when Niles enters the room only minutes
later with Edith, I fly across the wide room to hug him. Edith smiles at me
warmly, as if she sees me truly for the first time. And then the rest of the
mentor's enter. After being introduced to each of them they begin taking seats along
the oval shaped bench that dips below floor level, chatting quietly amongst
each other.

I remember
Hector's name from when he escorted the shamed Beady Eyes from the Station
after I was pulled off of Sloan's case. His army camouflage attire is worn and
faded and incredibly soft as he leans over to give me a half-hug before
crossing the room and sitting down comfortably next to Niles and Edith.

When Carlson
enters the room I glower at him, and as expected he glowers back before nodding
submissively at Rush. His thin legs wobble as he scurry's over to sit with the
mentor's. I have no idea what he's doing here until the sexy drawl of a
familiar voice behind me fills my ears like music.

I turn slowly
and gasp as Sloan scoops me up into his arms, ignoring the interested looks
from the others in the room as he spins me around twice before kissing me on
the lips. Breathless, I slowly put my hands upon his chest and stare up into
his face, deliriously happy to see him, but confused at the same time.
What
is Sloan doing here…in this meeting?

"I have
so much to tell you," he says into my ear as I glance quickly at Rush. His
cold and hard eyes are focused on Sloan's back and I furrow my brow as the glow
around him shimmers brightly.

"Please,
if you two are finished, have a seat?" he says flatly.

Jealous
much?

I regret the
thought instantly as Rush's piercing gaze lights me up like I'm on fire from
the inside out. My face throbs as a hot flush spreads over my cheeks. I'm
almost certain I look as if I've been slapped across both cheeks.

With downcast
eyes, I pad across the cool floor, hoping my embarrassed blush isn't noticed by
anyone, but the way Carlson raises his eyebrow at me in disdain I know I'm not
that lucky. Sloan seems oblivious; in fact he seems proud to be holding my hand
as we settle down on the ground next to Niles.

"So,"
Rush starts, facing away from me, "I want to thank you all for humoring
me. You know that I don’t interfere with the inner workings of your station
often. But this lady here," he nods at me, furthering my blush, "is
quite the remarkable find."

All eyes are
on me, boring into my being like I'm transparent. I want to scream for them to
stop staring at me but it's useless. I want to stare at me too, even if only to
see how crimson my face has become. Sloan squeezes my hand hard enough to hurt
as Rush continues his explanation of why we are all huddled together in the
strange meeting room.

I'm aware of
the hardness of Sloan's muscular thigh as he leans his jeans against my leg,
and of the feel of his body heat leaving his arm and radiating into mine. We
are pressed into each other firmly, breathing as one, moving as one. I don't
notice how close we truly are until Rush turns to finally face me and his words
catch momentarily in his mouth as he glances between me and Sloan.

Clear your
mind, don't let him in.

His eyes
narrow before he tilts his head up slightly, defiantly staring me down. Or
Sloan. I can't be sure exactly which of us he is glaring at. Sloan's hand
tightens briefly before loosening. I try not to flinch as he pulls his fingers
from mine and leans backwards, resting against the floor. He hooks a leg up
over his knee, looking as relaxed as ever. But I can almost hear his heartbeat
thudding wildly in his ribcage.

So it was
him you were shooting daggers at with that angry stare of yours?

As if to
confirm, a smile twitches at the side of Rush's mouth just enough to be
noticeable only if you happened to be looking. And I was.
I shouldn't be.

I look down,
staring at his bare feet while he continues his rehearsed speech. If I keep
staring at his feet, perhaps I will be able to block him from my thoughts. I
begin to concentrate on the curve of his instep, the roundness of each toe and
the pink color of his heel. With each small step he takes inside the oval
center of the room, I simply watch his feet. Eventually I blank out altogether,
and it's not until those same feet are standing just in front of my own that I
jump, pulled back to the present with a jolt.

Oh my god,
what was I thinking about?

Slowly, my
eyes travel up his legs and the crisp white pants he is wearing, hovering only
a millisecond on the area between his upper thighs and abdomen. As my gaze
trails upwards, I can see the outline of his chest muscles beneath the cotton
shirt and the movement of his throat as he swallows. Without a word, I can see
it all in his eyes. He's read my every thought.

Crap.

Not a single
trace of blue is left in his eyes as he looks down at my startled expression.
Only steel shines back at me, intense and cool like the blade of a knife. The
severity of his fixed stare doesn't match his mouth. Both his lips are parted,
relaxed even. And the corners twitch, as if he's struggling not to smile. I've
hit a nerve in him, I'm sure of it.

"All
this talk, and you've yet to tell us why we are all here," I say calmly,
hoping I can move the conversation into a direction that makes Rush's
appearance less desirable.

Sloan squirms
next to me, struggling to find a comfortable sitting position and as Rush lifts
an eyebrow, he backs away from me until his legs are only an inch from the
recessed step. I watch as he sits down gracefully, fluidly using every muscle
in his body in slow motion until he's perched on the step in a manner that
commands his attention.
And boy does he get it.
All eyes in the room are
on him, and breathing has all but ceased. We wait. When Rush takes a deep
breath, he looks first as me and then to Niles.

"Piper
Willow is a
Seer
."

At first
everyone continues to stare at Rush, and then slowly, the others begin to turn
their stunned gaze from him to me. I still don't get it.
What the heck is a
'seer'?

"But,
she does not know it…yet," Rush adds, the slow drawl of his voice echoing
slightly off the empty white walls around us.

"And…what
is that?" I ask.