Muse (Descended From Myth) (7 page)

BOOK: Muse (Descended From Myth)
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Daniel slipped his shirt back on, looking a little tense himself. “I'm sure you'll be able to come up with something,” he answered, looking away. As he got up, he laughed. “Oh, and when the girls ask tomorrow, tell them it's tribal ink.” Then he said goodnight and left me to look over the
stack of information on my own.

I spent the next hour comparing Daniel's notes with information I pulled off the internet. It wasn't hard to find what I was looking for. It seems like Talents are just not discreet people. Still, I never would have tied them all together otherwise. Sixteen of the twenty four were living primarily in the United States. The rest were scattered around Europe and Asia. One currently made her living as a Victoria's Secret model. Another was a pop star who, while a bit past her prime, was still raking in millions. The Prime Minister of Great Britain was secretly a Talent. The one I found to be the most disturbing though, was the Archbishop, who used his ability to inspire faith and religious fervor to benefit the Church, but also concealed the fact that he kept a mistress on the side, among other things. Where were the social workers? The professors? None of the Talents I'd researched seemed to be sources of inspiration for anything other than selfishness and excess. I started digging deeper, trying to find information about their families. What little I found was disturbing. Almost all had lost at least one parent in a strange fashion, often when they were quite young. Maybe the Guardians aren't as successful as Daniel would lead me to believe. I'd have to ask him about it. It was no wonder, though, that he didn't have a very high opinion of Talents in general if these people were the examples. Actually, it made me wonder why he would be willing to dedicate himself to their protection at all. Surely they could afford to hire their own bodyguards. I had to force myself to stop researching and get some sleep. Tomorrow promised to be a long day of production and the first full day of installations on the site. I drifted off and had weird dreams all night about greedy Grecian statues forcing me to become President of the United States.

When I woke up, the skies had opened up and released a downpour so heavy that we had to halt production for the entire day. Rain cascaded down the hotel windows in solid sheets, soaking anyone brave enough to wander outside in seconds. Most of the crew was congregating in the breakfast area and hotel lobby, playing games of cards and socializing. Over breakfast we were told that there wouldn't be a taping at all today, so Daniel and I decided that it would be the perfect opportunity for some training. He wanted to help me gain control of my ability so that I could release it when I wanted to, not just constantly ooze inspiration. I didn't understand why it would be bad to just leave it turned on all the time.

“Isn't it good to inspire everyone around me? I mean, what if I'm walking around the grocery store shopping for Pop Tarts, and the guy behind me is working on the next great American novel but he's stuck on the closing scene? It's not like I would know that. If he picks up a bit of my vapor trail, that seems like a win-win,” I argued
, munching on a strip of bacon.

“In that scenario, sure. But what if the guy walking behind you in the grocery store is a serial killer planning his next murder? Or a rapist trying to think of a better way to snatch victims? Inspiring
them
is not going to be a good thing,” Daniel patiently explained.

I hadn't considered that inspiration wasn't always working for the side of goodness and light. I suppose even super-villai
ns have their “Ah ha!” moments.

“Have there been any evil Talents?” I asked. I was half goofing around and half serious. For some reason, I was having serious Star Wars flashbacks from this whole conversation. “Come to the Dark Side, Anna. We have cookies!” droned my imaginary Darth Vader. I forced myself not to laugh or grin so that I wouldn't have to explain to D
aniel how massively dorky I am.

“Sure, there have been some pretty bad ones. Some were bad enough that the Guardians ended up refusing them protection. It takes a lot for that to happen.”

“Like who? If they were that bad, surely I've heard of them,” I pressed. I have a terribly nosy streak.

“Well, Adolf Hitler immediately springs to mind. Part of the reason that he was considered to be such a brilliant speaker was because he was using his Influence. I'm sure I don't have to go into detail about the kinds of behavior he Influenced,” Daniel replied. “It isn't a good chapter in the Guardian's history, either. We stepped away from him early in his career, but didn't do anything to stop him. The Grand Master at the time didn't feel that we had the right to exert that kin
d of control over the Talents.”

“Oh,” I responded quietly. I couldn't think of how else to respond. Bringing up Hitler sort of sucked all the fun out of this conv
ersation and made it a lot heavier than I expected. It was time to change the subject. “So what kind of lessons are you going to teach me today?”

“Today we'll work on focus and control. I want you to be able to pick out a specific person to Influence and not affect the entire room and to be able to shut it off when you don't consciously need it. It's okay to just let it flow when you're in creative settings like this, where you want the entire project to flow well and for people to collaborate and feed off each other. We don't want people to start spontaneously performing show tune medleys every time you go to a
Wal-Mart, though.”

I almost snorted my orange juice through my nose, enjoying the visual of people in blue smocks belting out, “The P
hantom of the Opera” too much.

We went back to my room, where I spent the next hour focusing on Daniel, trying to Influence him in some way, and then shutting it off. I started to recognize the feel of it, something that I'd never really noticed before and was hard to describe. It was similar to a slight vibration along my skin, but so very subtle. I didn't feel the warmth or tingles that Daniel described, at least not from my Influence. Whenever I thought back to the first time I practiced using my Influence on Daniel I felt very warm and tingly, but that probably had more to do with his influence than mine…

I was doing my best to avoid any flirtatious remarks or Influencing Daniel to do anything that wasn't strictly platonic. The last thing I tried to push him to do was find me a paper clip. He hadn't even twitched a muscle. I'd pushed harder, and he just yawned. I was really getting frustrated.

“Did you bring a swimsuit?” he asked ab
ruptly, pushing up off the bed.

“I thin
k so, for the hotel pool. Why?”

Daniel gave me a look that said, “Duh,” but didn't actually say it out loud. “I thought we'd go down to the pool and swim for a while and then grab lunch.
Maybe we could order a pizza?”

“Yes!” I agreed quickly. “I'm kind of ready to take a break from training anyway.”

“I didn't say anything about taking a break. Get your suit on. I'll be right back.”

I dug through my suitcase and found my turquoise swimsuit near the bottom of the bag. It was a one piece, but it had cutouts on the sides that kind of made it look like a two piece. I'd had a traumatic experience my freshman year of high school when I'd gone swimming at a friend's house and lost the bottom of my suit while rough housing in the water. I still felt mortified every time I saw her little brother. Ever since then I have tried to stick with one piece suits, even when my friends have given me a hard time about it. It's just safer this way. I slipped my feet into a pair of black flip flops and wrapped a black sarong around my waist. Daniel met me at my door in a pair of gray and black board shorts and a sleeveless black t shirt, casually carrying a beach
towel slung over his shoulder.

We walked down the hallway toward the smell of chlorine. “Most of the crew was planning to go swimming. This will be the perfect chance for you to practice on people other than me,” Daniel explained as we got near the door. Then he paused, holding the door slightly ajar. Frowning, he muttered, “No kissing, okay? I don't want to have to drown some guy.”

Right. So did that mean no kissing at all or just no kissing other guys? I wasn't going to ask. The pool was really crowded, all the windows were steamed up and every table and chair had been claimed. Members of the team filled the hot tub, the pool, and lounged on the white plastic deck chairs as though we were under a bright sun and not florescent lights. It made everyone look just a little pasty, but nobody seemed to mind.

Daniel led the way to the far side of the pool, where several of the design assistants were gathered, including Ginger and Sara. They were only too eager to let Daniel put his things with theirs, and mine too since they didn't want to look jealous. We sat on the edge of the pool, dangling our legs in the water. It was almost bathwater warm and full of jostling, splashing crew-members.

“So now what, Sensei?” I asked, leaning against Daniel's arm so he could hear me better. I swear, it was just so he could hear me better and had nothing to do with the fact that he was shirtless.

Daniel looked around the room, then picked his target with a smirk. “That guy, the one with the glasses who wanted to beat me up for you yesterday. See the girl he's chatting up? See if you can influence
him to push her into the pool.”

The girl in question was named Amanda and she was wearing a white micro-bikini covered in crystals and gold studs. It was not the kind of swimsuit you get wet. Plus her blonde hair was piled up on top of her head in an elaborately messy style that probably took her an hour to create but was meant to look like she'd just twisted it up carelessly. She was one of the hair and makeup girls. “Oooh, she will not be happy about that!” I giggled,
ready to take on the challenge.

I imagined the delicious scene down to the look of shock on Amanda's face when Chad planted his hands firmly on her bazangas and shoved her backwards into the water. The image solidified and I released it just as Amanda playfully swatted at Chad's arm and threw her head back to fake a laugh. He shoved, then she shrieked and hit the water. When she surfaced, she was spitting like a cat and a hunk of her hair had come unclipped and floated limply in the water next to her. She snatched it up, flopped over the edge of the pool and screamed some very unflattering obscenities at Chad before stomping away to her room. Chad stood there the entire time looking a little confused, but laughed it off with some false bravado. “Well, she didn't take that well, did she? Guess she can't take a joke!” he announced
loudly to the room in general.

“Very nice,” Daniel congratulated me. “I'm impressed. Did it happen just the way you imagined it?”

“Pretty much, except I didn't see the fake hair coming!” We laughed together until I had to wipe tears from my eyes.

“Okay, how about we try some real inspiration?” Daniel suggested. “See anyone who's in need of a bit of courage or a good eye opening?”

I looked around, scanning the group and finally saw them. In the corner, leaned up against the wall stood Tylinda's grad assistant, Amy. She was looking shy and nervous, but trying to talk to one of the camera guys. She seemed like she was really interested in him, but he just wasn't picking up on it, or maybe he didn't have the nerve to make a move.

“Those two,” I gestured to Daniel. “I think they need a little help making a love connection.”

Daniel shot me a crooked grin. “Okay, let's see if you've got the juice to make that happen,” he challenged playfully.

They were standing next to one of the racks of hotel towels so I had an excuse to wander over. I felt like it would be easier to give them a little nudge if I was in closer proximity. When I was a few steps away, I started loosening the hold that I'd been building up on my Influence. I felt it shiver across my skin. Now, how to inspire romance? I started thinking about my favorite scenes from romantic movies, happy endings of books where the hero and heroine live happily ever after. Maybe I should come up with things that were more specific to the people I wanted to inspire? I thought of every story where the cool underdog gets the girl and makes her happier than the jerk jock ever could. Okay, I thought about most of John Cusack's early movies.

I snagged a towel and walked back over to Daniel. Was he watching them or watching me? I kind of hoped he was watching me, because I looked pretty good in my suit. Just in case, I put a little extra swivel in my walk as I crossed the room. I tossed the towel with my sarong on the table and slid back down next to him. “Did it work?” I asked, glancing over. The guy, I thought his name was Ian maybe, was leaning a lot closer to Amy, who was giggling and batting her eyelashes. “What do I win if they get all kissy?” I asked, feeling pretty proud of myself.

Daniel jumped into the water, holding a hand out. “I will escort you to a dinner of your choice, my lady. Name it and it shall be yours.”

Amy's neck was now being nuzzled and Ian had a strand of her hair wrapped around one of his fingers. “I hope you like sushi, because you are going to owe me dinner in 3…2…1 and they're off! I win!” I crowed, drawing the attention of a couple of other swimmers.

Daniel silenced me with a quick splash of water and it was on. I splashed him back with extreme prejudice. We spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon just relaxing and getting to know each other a little more. At some point the flirting crept back in, but I wasn't the one to start it! Okay, I actually knew exactly when the flirting began. We were about to get out of the pool to dry off and go up to our rooms to change for lunch and as I reached for the ladder to haul myself out of the water, Daniel skimmed an arm around my waist, hauling me back against him. He whispered against my ear, his breath tickling my neck, “While we have a slightly private moment, I wanted to tell you that you look
really
good in that swimsuit. It's very distracting. Especially this part,” he ran his palm lightly over the skin bared by the cutout on the side, a move which I found to be equally distracting. Then the moment was ruined when another swimmer crashed into us in pursuit of a foam ball.

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