Muse (Descended From Myth) (3 page)

I arrived at the hotel about twenty minutes later than I should have. The stress of the drive had been slowly building, and when I got caught behind yet
another
slow moving vehicle, I was close to exploding. I ground out a series of expletives, first in French, then Italian, and then in English, just because I could and it felt good. I whipped into the lot and parked, looking around for Henry. He was supposed to be waiting for me at the secondary entrance because he didn't want too many of the production staff to see me and ask questions. If anyone did notice me, we'd decided to say that I was his grandson, even though we looked nothing alike. I climbed out of my car and stretched, trying to work the hard knot of tension out of my neck and lower back. My jaw ached from clenching my teeth so much. I'd been stressing pretty hard about both the traffic and about meeting my assignment.

“Maybe if she wasn't so damned pretty, then this would be easier!” I muttered to the sky, even though I was fairly certain that nobody up there
cared what I thought or wanted.

I waited around by the door to the hotel's indoor pool, watching for any sign of Henry. I heard sirens in the distance, and started to get a little worried when I realized they were getting closer and closer to the hotel. I started walking towards the opposite side of the hotel and the driveway that led into town, then picked up speed when I noticed a small crowd had gathered near the next intersection. A big red pickup truck was stopped in the road, its doors flung open and the cab empty. Everyone in the crowd stood bent down around something laying on the ground, just in front of the truck's shiny silver bumper. The first fire truck arrived on the scene about the same time I came pounding up. As the bystanders parted to let the medics through, I recognized the bloody face and body crumpled on the ground. Henry, his eyes open but sightless, was strapped onto a backboard while the first responders performed CPR. I thought about telling them I was his grandson, and trying to get them to let me ride with him to the hospital. But that was before
she
came jogging up to the scene of the accident, horror and concern evident on her face. She was sweaty, her hair pulled back in a scraggly ponytail, and dressed in a pair of cutoff sweatpants and a white t-shirt, but I'd never seen anyone look so beautiful. I was dazed, completely distracted from the tragedy unfolding in front of me by her sudden appearance. She hadn't noticed me at all, of course. She was completely focused on Henry, and the medics' battle to bring him back from the brink. One of the first responders had hooked up a yellow defibrillator to Henry's chest, while the other continued CPR. The defibrillator beeped and both medics stopped and looked at the machine's LED screen.

“No shock advised, Sam,” one said sadly. “I think w
e're going to have to call it.”

They slowly started peeling off the sticky pads, and a fireman grabbed a white sheet from the back of the ambulance. Suddenly, I felt the hair on my arms stand up, my scalp prickled and an enormous rush of fiery, stinging warmth poured over my body. Someone was using Influence, and a lot of it. I took a step towards Anna, moving to protect her, just as she spoke up over the noise of the crowd. “Please, you can still save him. This is what you train for! I know if you just give him a little more time then you can help him. Please, just try harder!”

The medics didn't even acknowledge that they heard her. They just immediately launched back into rescue breathing and loaded Henry into the back of the ambulance. As the truck pulled away, I could still see two of the medics working furiously on Henry as the fireman drove. The crowd started to thin out as the remaining firemen and police officers took charge of cleaning up and documenting the accident. The witnesses all reported that Henry had stepped right out into the path of the oncoming truck, against the Don't Walk sign. I swallowed a big chunk of guilt, afraid that Henry may have been rushing to meet me. Falling into step a bit behind Anna, I watched her slowly turn towards the hotel. I reached out hesitantly, and tapped her gently on the shoulder.

“Thank you for helping him like that. I really appreciate it,” I said softly. “I know he would say the same.”

“Oh, I didn't do anything,” she said, a look of confusion on her lovely face. “I just didn't want them to give up so soon.”

“Yeah, but you blasted more Influence at them than I've ever felt at once! They didn't have much of a choice,” I chuckled.

Anna stared at me as though I'd suddenly sprouted horns through my hair. “What are you talking about?” she huffed.

“Oh, I'm sorry!” I suddenly realized my gaff. Here I was calling her out as a Talent and she didn't even know who I was! “I'm Daniel. I'm your new Guardian. Didn't Henry tell you I was coming today?” Anna's clear green eyes grew even wider, her mouth more tense, and she darted a few glances at the entrance to the hotel, as if measuring the
distance between us and safety.

“I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about,” she said, picking up her pace, “Are you part of the internship program? Who's Henry?”

“
Henry
is the guy they just loaded on a stretcher!” I practically shouted in exasperation. “And I don't have time for you to play dumb. In case you didn't notice, this is hardly standard procedure. You need to fill me in on your security iss—” but I was cut off by the pounding of Anna's feet as she took off at a dead sprint for the front door.

Now I'm in pretty excellent physical shape, and I don't mean that in a vain way. It's just that I've been in training for, oh, my entire life. So I could have caught up with Anna and thrown her over my shoulder before she ever had a chance to reach the lobby's sliding glass doors. Unfortunately, I was fairly certain that if I tried that particular move, it would definitely attract some unwanted attention. Now that I was singularly responsible for Anna's safety, it would not be a good idea to spend the next forty-eight hours in jail for stalking or worse. Instead, I had to find a less direct tactic to get Anna's cooperation and stay near enough to keep her safe. I shoved my hands in my pockets, willing myself to walk nonchalantly towards the doors while my brain worked furiously to come
up with a plan.

When I walked into the lobby, I half expected Anna to have bolted for her room or demanded that the front desk clerk call the police. Instead, she was standing in the lounge area, half hidden by a huge potted plant, just waiting and watching. She looked worried, but luckily she didn't bolt again. I pulled my hands out of my pockets, palms up, to show that I wasn't carrying anything scary. I tried to put on a charming, harmless smile
as I slowly walked towards her.

“I promise that I'm not a crazy person. If we could just sit down, maybe over there,” I nodded toward the breakfast area. “I can explain.”

Anna gave me a thorough looking over, lingering in the area of the pockets on my cargo pants. If she was looking for weapons, she was looking in the wrong areas. I'd never hide a weapon someplace that obvious. I was actually carrying several, but not where she was likely to notice them. She checked the lobby over to make sure that there were enough witnesses lingering around, before giving me a curt nod and making her way over to a small table. Even though her resistance was a bit infuriating, I had to appreciate that she was using some caution. Most of the Talents I’d dealt with in the past wouldn't have questioned me at all.

I followed a few paces behind her, trying to look casual and not like a crazed killer. She sat down facing the door, which forced me into the uncomfortable position of having to turn my back to the entrance. Ordinarily, I would have insisted that we move to a safer arrangement, but I couldn't be sure that Anna wouldn't just storm off. I slid into the seat, deciding how to start this conversation. Could she really know nothing about Henry, or was she just messing with my head? After all, she
is
a Talent. Messing with people's heads just comes naturally to them.

I started talking just about the same time Anna started tapping her fingernails on the table, whether from nerves or
impatience I couldn't say.

“The man out there, the one who got hit by the truck,” I paused, choosing my wording carefully. “Have you ever see
n him or spoken to him before?”

Anna narrowed her eyes, thinking carefully. “I think he was on the bus today. I bumped into him when I got off with my bags. Other than that, I don't know anything about him. What is this all about?”

Damn. As incredible as it seemed, I had to consider the possibility that she honestly didn't know who Henry was, or possibly even what
she
really was. I'd never had to do a complete reveal, heck I'd never even
heard
of anyone having to do one. Usually, a Talent's parents had already told them everything they needed to know before they even had any powers of Influence. The Guardians didn't usually step in until a Talent was mature enough to be at risk. By then, most were sixteen or older and had already been exposed to the Guardians through their parents. I'd never considered that Anna's adoption also meant that she'd had no preparation for what I was about to explain to her. Henry should have done this when
he
started as her Watcher, but that couldn't be helped now.

“My name is Daniel Lyoncourt. That man's name is Henry and he and I are, well you could say, we're co-workers. We both work for a group whose job it is to protect special people. People who have special abilities. People like you, Anna.”

“Right. Is this some kind of sales pitch? 'Cause I'm sorry, but I'm kind of busy right now,” she hedged, rising from the table.

“Wait!” I pleaded. “I know that you don't have any reason to trust me right now, but you will. Please, give me five minutes to explain and then you can decide if you want to hear more. All I'm asking is five minutes of your time in a public place so I can explain to you
why
I'm worried about your safety.”

I've been told that I can be charming, and that women like my smile. I tried that suave smile, ignoring the rising tendrils of panic. Talents don't refuse protection, they demand it. They also don't apologize politely to anyone they think is wasting their time. I forced myself to maintain eye contact with Anna, using my eyes to plead my case, too. Things would get much more complicated if she walked away or caused a scene now. I needed her to stay and talk to me.

I kept telling myself to just turn and walk away. I needed to get away from this guy before something bad happened. How are you supposed to react when an incredibly good looking guy walks up to you and just starts talking to you like he knows all about you? Sure, he's obviously on the lam from some nearby psych ward, but at least he thinks I'm special! My Mom would remind me that guys will say anything to get a girl's attention, but this didn't feel like a pick up line. It just felt…bizarre. I couldn't think of anything that would qualify me as “special.” I hadn't told him my name either, but he
had
called me Anna.

“I have no idea what I would need to be protected from, nor do I consider myself in any way “special.” I added, “You must have the wrong person. I'm sure there are other people named Anna in this hotel. You should ask around.” I started to get up from the table again, but his hand shot across the table and lightly gripped my wrist. It tingled, but in a pleasant way that surprised me so much I paused, unintentionally giving him the chance to continue.

“You are Anna Saint-James, age nineteen but you turn twenty next month. You were adopted by Edward and Karen James when you were two years old, after your parents were killed in a traffic accident. You have an adopted sister, Stacy, a dog named Bugsy, and a close-knit group of friends. You're surrounded by successful, inspired people for a
reason
. Maybe you haven't even figured out why that is yet, but I can clarify it for you. It's because
you
are their inspiration. You are a direct descendent of a Muse. You are special because you have inherited the ability to influence people, for good or for bad and
that's
why we have to keep you protected,” he ended in a harsh whisper, glancing over his shoulder and around the lobby.

He shouldn't know so much about me. There's no way anyone here should know so much about me. None of that information was even in my application, but this guy knew it and off the top of his head, too. I had to know why, especially if he might be dangerous. He might go after my family or friends. My palms were starting to sweat, but he still held onto my right wrist. I could probably break his grip if I just pulled away, but then I might not get the answers I needed. I leaned forward a little in my chair and asked, “How
do you know anything about me?”

He smiled like that was a silly question and leaned toward me. “I have an entire file folder filled with nothing but information about you. Henry was assigned to you over a year ago. The Guardians have been around for well over a thousand years and our sole purpose is to protect Talents. That's what we call people like you.”

I squirmed, my mind racing, and said, “I don't understand. This all sounds ridiculous! How would your group know about me in the first place? I've never heard of any of this.”

“Well, when a Talent has a child, we protect the whole family, and when the child grows up and moves away, they get their own Watcher,” he responded as if all of this was perfectly normal and natural. “You didn't live with your biological parents, so the Guardians didn't need to interfere until you started to develop your Influence.”

“So you're saying that one of my parents was,” I paused, fishing around for the right word, “talented and so they would have been protected by your group?” He nodded proudly, like I was his prize student. “Okay, then. So where was this Guardian the day that they both died? And for that matter, how did I end up in an orphanage?” The pride on his face melted away. It seemed like I'd struck a nerve and now it was his turn to fidget.

“I have no idea,” he said, sounding slightly reluctant to admit that there was something he
didn't
know. “But if it's important to you, then I promise to help you find out. The information that I had on your parents was incomplete. I wondered about that, too. I want to make sure that what happened to them was indeed an accident and not something that could be a threat to you.”

Oh crap. The one thing he could have said that could
possibly
have enticed me into listening to any more of this little crazy-fest would be that he could tell me about my biological parents. My adopted parents are marvelous, and I love them with all my heart, but I've never been able to stop wondering about my real parents. I didn't even know why I wasn't with them when they died. Or who I'd been with. I'd be willing to play along if there was any chance that I might get a few more scraps of information about them. If this group was real and could have access to anything about my parents—wow, that would be huge for me. It just sounded too out there to possibly be real.

“Prove it to me. Can you show me anything about my parents? Immediately?” I pressed.

Daniel nodded slowly, thinking, and then a lopsided grin lit up his face. I kept thinking how he really was exceptionally good looking for a crazy person. He stood, held out a hand to me, and pulled me up to my feet. Standing this close to him, I caught the fresh, clean scent of his clothes and could feel the warmth radiating off his chest. My heart started to beat a little faster, I had to look up to meet his eyes, and he smiled even broader. Daniel nodded toward the front desk. “I can get you quite a few documents, actually. I have to get them anyway, but I'm going to need your help to do it.” When I looked at him skeptically, he chuckled and added, “Don't worry. It's not going to be illegal and you'll be a natural at it. All you have to do is get the clerk to give us a key to Henry's room.”

He steered me over to the front desk and we waited while the clerk chatted on the phone. She eyed us, lingering much longer on his muscular build than on me and my scraggly workout clothes. “Can I help you?” she almost purr
ed, still ogling his shoulders.

Daniel nudged me, and then said, “We need a replacement key card for room 212. My girlfriend lost hers while she was out running.” He casually draped his arm around my shoulders, leaned in and whispered, “Just think really hard about what you want her to do, and make a suggestion.” My heart was hammering, either from disbelief that I was even going to try this, or because of his hand rubbing my shoulder.

“It would be really helpful if you could get one for us. We'd really appreciate it,” I managed to stammer. The clerk just smiled, and handed me a key card. Unbelievable. Of course, I was pretty sure that she was cooperating because she thought Daniel was hot, not because of my supposed super powers. Either way, we snagged the card and made a beeline for the elevator. Daniel was still holding my hand, and as we stood in the quiet confines of the elevator, he gazed down at our clasped hands as if he was surprised to see that he still held mine in his. I moved to pull mine away, a little embarrassed that I'd let a total stranger hold my hand this long. It just felt…nice.

As he released his hold on mine, Daniel took a small step away and flexed his now empty hand.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I—I, uh. I know this is going to sound kind of strange, but I've waited a long time to meet you,” he whispered. Now what girl doesn't want to hear that at least once in her life? The problem was that I had no idea how to respond. Part of me was still convinced that this was all part of some elaborate hoax, another part was clinging to the idea that I was dealing with a crazy person, but there was a sliver of my mind that believed every word that left Daniel's lips. Maybe if I hadn't just witnessed a traumatic event I would be thinking more clearly. Or if Daniel was some chubby, dorky looking guy who seemed like he spent all day writing Dr. Who fan fiction, then I'd be able to dismiss this whole premise and just move on with my life without giving it a second thought. But no, I couldn't change the situation. I just had to go with it. I walked out of the elevator, still trying to wrap my mind around what I was doing. My parents would have an absolute aneurism if they knew I'd just gone with a total stranger to his hotel room without even letting anyone know where I was. I never did anything this stupid, this blatantly naive, and yet here I was. When we reached room 212, he gestured for me to be quiet and pressed his ear close to the door. I hadn't been talking, but once he shushed me I had to suppress the urge to giggle. After he listened for a moment, he opened the door and carefully slipped inside. Only after he checked the entire room, including the bathtub and under the bed, was I allowed inside.

“Aren't you worried the police will come here looking for his stuff?” I asked, pointing toward the unpacked suitcase that sat by the side of the bed.

“Not really, since Henry registered the room under my name. He was carrying a false ID anyway. But I do need to make sure none of his information ends up in the wrong hands.”

Daniel opened the suitcase and shuffled through it, but didn't seem to find what he was looking for. Then he bent and retrieved another case from under the bed that I hadn't even noticed. This one was briefcase sized and made of metal. Daniel keyed in a code, cracked open the case and smiled.

My heart was hammering in my chest. What if I was helping him steal something from this hotel room?  I could go to prison for aiding and abetting a criminal, because there was no way the police would believe
my
story. I still didn't believe it.

After flipping through several files, Daniel finally produced a stack of papers about an inch thick and handed them over to me. On the top was a slightly grainy gray-scale picture of me, exiting a campus bus. My face was turned toward the photographer, but my eyes were focused elsewhere. It could have been taken anytime in the last year,
but my gut said it was recent.

“Why don't you have a seat and look through that while I make a call to my supervisors. I have to let them know what's happened to Henry,” Daniel suggested, while guiding me over to the hotel room's little sitting area. I settled into the small easy chair with the stack of papers balanced on my lap and began leafing thro
ugh the pages of my life story.