Forbidden (35 page)

She gave them a skeptical look. “
Fix me?
What do you have in mind? I won't take drugs. I already told you that.”

Claire shook her head. “Not drugs.” She sat down on the floor next to the bars. “Do you remember me?”

Tammy stood up and walked over toward the bars. “Claire, right? Yeah, I remember you. Are you a healer?”

She shrugged. “Sort of. I'm an empath.”

The tawny-headed girl let out a harsh laugh. “Then you know I feel like shit.”

Claire knew better than to respond lightly to the frustration. “I do, actually.” Emotions rolled off Tammy like pulse waves, widening then contracting. There were too many scents to even attempt to sort out. “If it's okay with you, I'd like to explore why.”

Tammy looked at her askance. “Like therapy? I'm pretty sure wild magic doesn't give a shit about couch talking.”

Now Claire did laugh. “I'm not much of a talker. What I'd like to do is connect with you, like with a mental link. What my magic gift does is let me sort of
see
emotions and follow them like scents backward to figure out where they start.”

Tammy laughed and sat down on the floor, cross-legged. “Cool. Mind-meld me, Mr. Spock.” But the flippant words covered over a fear of what Claire would find.

“Do you want to know what I find?” It was an honest question. Not everyone who was tested for cancer wanted to know for sure it's what they had. Some people liked to remain ignorant except for good news.

She thought about it for a good half minute before finally shaking her head. “You can either fix me or not. I'd rather not know that I'm going to die. Give me the illusion that it's fixable.”

There wasn't more to say to that, so Claire simply started. It was far easier to push through a willing subject's emotions. It was like cutting through hot butter. Likely Tammy never even noticed she'd slid inside.

The cell that surrounded Tammy on the outside was duplicated inside. Claire realized she was using music and books to keep the chaos at bay. Colors that weren't colors swirled and collided behind that carefully constructed layer of normality. In her mind's eye, she reached out and put her hand on the heartbeat of the chaos.

It had a familiar taste. It felt distinctly … male.

Could the insanity not be within Tammy but being pressed upon her?
The Darkness
? Amber's thoughts flowed with her own.
It is insanity.

But to be insane presumes there was sanity once.
“Maybe there was.”

She hadn't realized she said it out loud until Dani said, “Was what?”

Trying to focus on the question pulled her out of the maelstrom too abruptly. She began to heave deep gulps of air, trying to come back to herself. But she only wound up hyperventilating. Like being caught in a riptide, her emotions were heaved in all directions, twisting and turning in on themselves. Snippets of memories, not her own, began to flash through her head. Chaos. Order was needed. Yelling, screaming, crying in the distance. Nobody would listen. Nobody would stop long enough to
think
. Hate would only breed hate. Something had to be done.

She watched words appear on paper, written by a ballpoint pen held in large, thick fingers, in a leather-bound journal.
Today I'm starting the Great Experiment. Heaven help me if I fail. Heaven help us all …

What does that mean?
Claire asked whoever was listening in her head.
What experiment?

I don't know,
Amber responded.
But I'll ask around until I find out. Maybe someone remembers something from that time. Ask whoever you meet. Now get out before we're both stuck here!

“Claire! Snap out of it. C'mon, hon. Breathe!” It was Dani's voice. She felt pounding on her back and with a gasp, she was back in the small basement with what was now a fully shifted cougar pacing on the other side of the bars. A paw reached out sideways from behind the bars, the animal snarling, hungry. She gasped and backed up, helped by Dani and Asylin each grabbing an arm, but even then, the claws were only inches from her face. “Wow. That was close. She turned so
fast
. Are you okay?”

Claire stared at the big cat, snarling and leaping from inside the cage. Then she nodded. “Yeah. I got caught in the middle of her going rogue again. It was a pretty wild ride.” She thought again about the man's hand, writing. “Hey, have either of you ever heard the phrase ‘the Great Experiment' about Luna Lake? Or know a man who handwrites notes in a bound journal?”

Mother and daughter looked at each other blankly, then back at her. “No,” Asylin said. “No idea. But since you're going out there anyway, you might ask Bitty. She was one of the first people in charge of the town, back when it was just a refugee camp.”

*   *   *

Alek lay with bent knees on the wooden glider on the porch, trying to gather his thoughts. The wind had died down but there was a bite in the air that went nicely with the lightly falling snow. What the hell was wrong with Denis? Could it really be jealousy? Of
what
exactly? He didn't buy it was just Claire. Something deeper was going on. He'd dated before and Denis had never had this reaction. Maybe something was going on in school or with his friends. He needed to sit down and talk to him as soon as this mess was done.

Dad came outside just then and sat down in the rocker next to the glider where he was sprawled. No sweater, no coat. He was a winter bird. Loved the cold. He started rocking, like he always did when he was waiting to hear whatever one of the kids had to say. Alek didn't even know where to start. For the first time, there were things he couldn't tell his father. He'd always been able to tell his father anything and get good advice. Keeping secrets was new and he wasn't sure how to deal with it. He picked a safe topic, staring at the side of his adoptive dad's face. Just like always. “Jealous, huh?”

“Partly,” his dad responded. “The anger makes it worse.”

“What's he angry about?”

The rocking got a little faster. “Lots of things. He'll graduate next year and hasn't a clue what he wants to do. His girlfriend dumped him and he's not positive he cares. His grades are in the toilet and he's been hiding the notes from his teacher from me and his mom. Of course, there's always getting caught vandalizing the park and having to go before a real judge, with the possibility of actual jail time. And while Darrell is back, he's not
really
back, and Kristy is still missing. As much as he ragged on her, she's always been Denis's favorite sis.”

While Alek had been aware of each thing individually, when they were all strung into a list, it was pretty overwhelming. The anger he'd been feeling at his little brother was swept away in sympathy. “Jeez. It sucks to be him right now, doesn't it?”

Dad just kept staring at the moving leaves on the trees, rocking quietly. That was the one thing that made talking to him easier. He never looked at you when you were spilling your guts. Even though he was right there, it always felt sort of anonymous, like a confessional. “You've always had your act together, Alek. You knew what you wanted, even when you were little, and went out and got it very methodically. Fixing
his
life has been the one thing Denis has always relied on. Now he's old enough that he has to take responsibility for what he does … and what he doesn't do, and you can't fix it anymore.” His dad paused. “Yeah, I guess it sucks to be him.”

The front door opened and Dani came out, followed by Rachel and Claire. She spoke while she adjusted the hood on her down jacket. “We're off to check in on the Kragan triplets, Alek. Want to come along?”

No,
said Amber's voice in his mind
.
Claire must have heard it too, because she said, “Nah, we don't want to overwhelm them. Three's probably as many visitors as they need.”

Rachel nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they wear out pretty quick. With three of us, we can finish up and be out of there fast. It's Saturday, so nobody's really expecting us anyway.”

It
was
Saturday. No wonder everyone was hanging out at the house. It might mean no beating from the chief. Omegas typically got the day off to be with their families, and all of the city offices were closed. It would be a perfect opportunity to start making some noise.

The women walked off down the drive, chatting about music, one of Rachel's favorite things. It didn't really seem like Claire's sort of discussion but she seemed to know all the bands that Rachel liked. Then again, he really didn't know her all that well …

After a few minutes of staring out into the forest, Alek asked, “Seen Scott today?”

The chair beside him stopped rocking. “Now that you mention it, no.”

“Have you ever seen him shift off the moon?”

John let out a chuckle. “Lord, no. I have to help him shift every month. There's a reason he's spent about the same time doing the Omega duties as Rachel.”

Doing the Omega duties
. The phrase, so common in the house, made him sick to his stomach now. “Could he
fake
not being alphic?”

“No. Of course not. Why would you ask that?”

“No reason,” Alek replied. But his dad was good at smelling a lie.

“Try again. Why?” John scooted the chair around so he could see Alek's face. The interrogation position. Alek could nearly feel the light being turned on his face.

“I saw him last night. Well, actually this morning, before dawn. He was flying.”

His dad waved off the suggestion with a flop of one hand. “You must have been mistaken. It's days until the full moon.”

Alek nodded. “I know. It's why I was asking. But I'm not crazy. Nobody else has the Big Dipper pattern under the wings.”

“What about my Big Dipper spots?” Scott walked out of the house just then and hopped up to sit on the railing. He looked like he always did and Alek felt no rush of power that might signal that he'd suddenly become an alpha.

Might as well just come out with it. “I saw them this morning.” He paused for effect. “
Over
my back porch.”

Scott paled until his skin was the same white as the streak in his hair. His smile was shaky. “You're confused. I can't shift without the moon.”

John pivoted the rocking chair to face away from Alek. “Never have been able to that I know of. But you didn't actually say Alek didn't see you, son.”

Brows lowered, Scott went on the defensive. He flipped his ponytail off his shoulder and stood up. “Look, I'm twenty-one. It's none of your business what I do at night.” He stormed down the stairs and toward the road, stuffing his fists into his pockets as he walked.

Alek shook his head, surprised yet not surprised at Scott's reaction. His brother wasn't strong enough to be the Darkness and Alek couldn't imagine he was involved with the missing kids. Plus, Claire had said he was one of Lenny's victims. What did it matter if Scott had learned how to shift off the moon? He shouldn't give Scott a hard time for having a little fun. “He's right. He gets to do what he wants. It's none of my business.” He sighed and laid his head back against the armrest. “This doesn't seem to be my week for talking to people.”

“No, it's a very good question, Alek. You did the right thing, asking him. There are strange things going on in this town. Maybe it's time to start being suspicious.”

*   *   *

The sound of distant banjo music made Claire pause. She looked at Rachel and Dani, who shrugged. “I've never heard music out here,” Rachel said. It made all of them start looking around them more carefully, sniffing the air and watching the bushes for movement.

They reached the turnoff where the Kragans lived and crept up to where they could see the clearing in front of Bitty Kragan's cabin. Claire was surprised to see Bitty sitting on a rocking chair on her porch, clapping her hands while two elderly men straddled the railing, playing instruments.

The one with the fiddle was singing in a rich baritone, “Picayune Brown's a 'comin, a 'comin, ol' Picayune Brown's a ‘coming, aha, ayah.”

“Is Bitty
smiling
?” Rachel asked, sounding stunned.

Dani added her astonishment. “I didn't know Mr. Egan could play the banjo.”

The music stopped abruptly as all three Kragans sniffed the air. The men reached with their free hands for the shotguns leaning next to the front column.

Bitty raised a hand. “Put down those guns, boys. It's the little owl and her friends. The sweet one who sings.” She motioned them forward. “Come, come, join us.”

One of the men peered at them, still suspicious. But when he saw Rachel emerge carefully from the brush, his eyes lit up. “Oh, it's
you
.” His voice had a thick accent, like Claire had heard from people visiting from Louisiana. “Well, get on up here, girl. Let's hear that pretty voice to music for a change.”

Claire looked at Dani, who shrugged and whispered, “I
guess
it's okay. I've just never seen them standing up and moving around before. Not ever.”

Rachel went onto the porch, touching each of the elderly people, like she couldn't believe her eyes. “Miss Bitty, you're
outside
. It's been so long! And you're walking, Mr. Claude.” She beamed from ear to ear. It was obvious she really cared about these people.

“Ayah,” the one Dani called Egan said with a nearly toothless grin. “Too long. But there's a snap in the air today. Makes a person want to make some noise.

“Make some noise, girl. Give us a smile.” Egan made a show of strumming the banjo and rolled a hand, inviting Rachel to sing.

“Well, you've heard about jambalaya, crawfish pie, and gumbo too. But have you heard about boudin? Down in Louisiana, it's an all-American food.” Her strong soprano picked a fast beat and the men jumped in with their instruments. Bitty started clapping again, and stomping one foot on the board as Rachel sang a song about, of all things, sausage. “Take it home and eat it to the temperature of the moon.”