The Gifted Ones: A Reader (22 page)

But this wasn’t rush hour. It was close to ten o’clock, and in this neighborhood, things were relatively quiet. If there was someone on the street, they were probably best avoided. Rique peered around the corner of the brick building he had come to, squinting in the darkness. Carlo Lucinni’s street was even less well-lit than Rique’s. He scanned slowly, his senses tuned, seeking any interruption to the stillness.

He pulled out his night-vision binoculars and focused on three vehicles parked along the street. One, a large black SUV with tinted windows, was an obvious suspect. He couldn’t see the plate from where he stood, but the complete lack of road salt corrosion on the body told him that that car had not spent the prior winter in the Washington metro area. A second, more subtle contender, was parked on the next block. From a distance, it looked like just another overpriced sedan, but Rique recognized the styling as that of a late-model Jag—way too expensive for this neighborhood. The third vehicle—the one with steamed, rather than tinted windows—definitely had people in it and was the least of his concerns. He only hoped the young couple would tie up their tryst and move on. He had no interest in seeing innocent bystanders get hurt.

The landscape, he was already familiar with. It was an older building, which meant it actually had a few trees growing around it, miraculously enough, in the thirty-foot-wide strip of grass that surrounded it. Beyond that was a short iron fence, bordering the grass, which could potentially be an issue. Of course, Rique could easily jump over it, but others might get tripped up. And if he ended up with the package, things might get really messy.

Finally, he turned his head upward, angling it as much as he could without exposing himself. He tried to suss out what was going on behind the lighted windows three stories up. From his vantage point, though, he couldn’t even tell if the curtains were drawn. He reeled in the tension and stood straight again. He wanted to slip in the side door or shimmy up the fire escape and bust on in there, but that wasn’t his job. How was he supposed to just stand there, when
anything
could be happening? Waiting and watching had never been Enrique’s strong suit.

He took a deep breath and then blew it out. Even a loner like him needed to play it cool and be part of a team sometimes. Just not too often. Look what it had done for Angel. She was always so high and mighty on her beloved band of Gifted Ones. Sure, the G.O.s had done a lot for both of them, but that didn’t mean they owed them their lives. And who said they even needed to be rescued from the streets anyway? They were doing okay on their own. Rique had learned to be a helluva sneak-thief at only seven years old, and as soon as he’d grown just a little bigger, he’d have been watching out for Angel, instead of the other way around. And then neither one of them would be caught up in this mess they were in tonight.

# # #

“You’re not still frettin’ about Ellie now, are you? ’Cause I got something that can fix that.” Doo reached across the picnic blanket and picked up the wine bottle. “A little more?”

Grace appreciated that he at least asked. It had always bothered her when men would refill her wine glass or order her an additional drink without consulting her first. Maybe they were just being polite, but it was a little too fraternity-house pushy for her taste. Doo, for all his marvelous masculinity, appeared to have been raised to treat women with respect. “No, thanks, Doo. I’m fine, really. I’m embarrassed that I got so upset. I’m not even worried anymore.”

He grinned in a way that told her he didn’t believe her, but he set the bottle back down in the ice bucket. “Then how about a little of this?” He uncovered a small plate that had been among the many that Chef Renni had left for them.

Grace’s eyes widened at the sight of several small, perfectly shaped blobs of very dark brown. Doo selected one and held it under her nose. The pungent aroma of bittersweet chocolate assailed her senses. “Omigod! Give me that!” He laughed and obliged her, pushing it between her lips. “Mmmmmm.” She leaned back on her hands, closed her eyes, and rolled the soft mass around on her tongue, savoring the flavor while it melted in her mouth. When it was gone, she opened her eyes again and looked over at him. “Wow, that was heavenly. How do you stand it? I’d weigh five hundred pounds if I lived here.”

Doo had leaned back on his hands, too, and was staring up at the clear, starry sky. “No you wouldn’t. ’Cause you’d spend all your time out here.” He waved one hand across the dark, open stretch in front of them. “You’d be in the barn with the animals, or out in the pasture, or up there, in the hills. And you wouldn’t need any wine, ’cause you’d be drunk on fresh air and sunshine.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Isn’t it?”

She wrinkled her forehead suspiciously. “Did Joe put you up to this?”

He sat straight up. “Joe? Manning? Heck no! Why would you say that?” He looked genuinely surprised by her question.

She gave her head a little shake. “Sorry, it’s just…Joe has been hounding me. He really, really wants us to stay. He thinks this is the best place for Ellie.”

“And what about you? Where’s the best place for Grace?”

“Me? What difference does that make? Nobody wants to kidnap me.”

“O-o-oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that…” He gave her a devilish grin, then shifted his attention back to the night sky.

Grace found herself blushing and quickly followed his gaze, finding it easier to focus on the constellations than the lanky farmhand.

“Seriously, Gracie, you need to think about yourself, too. Don’t you think your happiness matters to Ellie as much as hers matters to you? Do you think she wants to go through life feeling like you gave up
everything
for her? You gave up vet school, you left your beau, and you moved far away to a strange town, because all that was best for Ellie.”

She turned sharply toward him, her mouth agape. “Wait a minute! How did you—”

His shoulders drooped, and he pushed his hat back on his head. “Oh, uh, sorry, Grace. It’s just…”

“Wait, I know. Elmyra.”

He looked sheepish. “I didn’t ask, I swear. She volunteered the information. She’s got that whole database of all the Gifted folks and their families…”

Grace sighed and patted his hand. “It’s okay. I understand. That old busybody’s just got way too much information at her disposal.”

He just smiled. “All I’m sayin’, Grace, is…you don’t have to be a martyr. You’ve done a lot for Ellie. And she appreciates it, I’m sure, but maybe it’s time to let somebody else do a little. There are people here who want to be her friends and teachers and mentors. Let them do it. Let them help. Every one of us has something to learn from everyone else.”

Whoa. Surprise, surprise. Apparently, the backwoods country boy had more than sweet hay in his head. And maybe he was even right. She looked at him thoughtfully. “So-o-o-o, if I were to share my responsibility for Ellie with all the eggheads and athletes and who-knows-what-else around here, what would I do with myself all day?”

Doo dropped way back on his elbows so he was almost lying down. His voice was playful, “Gimme a little time. I’ll come up with somethin’.”

She laughed out loud, then plucked his hat off his head and slammed it down over his face, making him fall flat on the blanket. He knocked the hat away and grabbed her arms, pulling her towards him with a wide grin.

To hell with propriety. To hell with the age difference. Grace felt more silly and happy and carefree than she could remember feeling in a long time. She allowed herself to be drawn into his arms, and even before their lips met, a rush of heat pushed up from her loins. She kissed him hungrily and reveled in the breathlessness of being crushed against him. Damn, that felt good.

And then, just as her body was melting into liquid honey, her phone, sitting near them on the blanket, buzzed and lit up. They both froze and turned their heads in that direction. She lifted her head just enough to see the screen. “It’s Joe.”

“You could call him back.”

She looked at Doo, biting her lip. He gave her a kind smile and pushed them both up to a sitting position. He nodded toward the phone. “Answer it, Gracie.”

Chapter Twelve: Choose

“Ellie, how’s it comin’ in there? You made a decision on the movie yet?” Angel called out to Ellie from where she and Carlo were cleaning up the mess in the kitchen after their sumptuous Italian feast. Knowing how much Angel enjoyed good food, Ellie was starting to understand her attraction to the fair-haired boy.

“Oh, yeah, I got one now. I think it’s one we’ll all like.” Ellie answered her without looking over. She wasn’t sure if it was so much their relentless affection or the actual heat level in the kitchen that was doing it, but watching the two of them together really seemed to be bothering her eyes. Every time she even glanced that way, her vision was blurred by a shimmery haze of red smoke. Maybe she just wasn’t cut out for contact lenses.

She turned the film box over in her hands and scanned the back again. Hitchcock’s
Notorious
was her selection for their movie. Carlo would get his fix of iconic actors like Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman, Angel would probably love all the super-spy mumbo-jumbo, and Ellie could bask in one of the greatest love triangles ever captured on the silver screen. She couldn’t help but liken the famous three-minute kiss scene with what she’d been seeing and hearing from the kitchen for the last quarter hour. Devlin and Alicia had nothin’ on Carlo and Angel. Ellie wondered if she’d ever feel that way about anyone, or more importantly, if anyone would ever feel that way about her.

But there was yet another reason for her selection of this particular film. To Ellie, Hitchcock and Cary Grant and the others were some of her only remaining connections to her dad, for it was Martin Eggleston who had turned her onto the “moldy-oldies”, as Angel called them, at an early age. For a man dedicated to science, Martin had kept a warm and fuzzy place in his heart for classic films, and
Notorious
was one of his favorites. Ellie could still recall the first time they’d watched it together; she was probably only seven or eight years old, a time when most kids were slurping up pirates and wizards and dinosaurs. Of course, he’d had to explain some scenes to her and fill in background about the war, but that was part of the fun. Her mom wasn’t a huge movie fan, so watching movies together, with him adding in all kinds of trivia and historical notes, was their special Daddy and Daughter thing. That was a long time ago, though, and nowadays, if Ellie wanted someone to watch an old movie with her, she’d have to drag Aunt Grace kicking and screaming.

Aunt Grace! Oh, crap! Ellie looked up at the wall clock. Geez, it was way past ten, and she hadn’t texted her aunt since they first arrived at Carlo’s apartment. On the other hand, Grace, miraculously, hadn’t texted her, either. Usually, if Ellie was even a couple minutes late checking in, Grace was all over her. Ellie jumped up from the couch to grab her phone. As she looked for it, she wondered if maybe Uncle Joe was pinch-hitting for her again. He had done all the heavy-lifting with Grace since the idea of traveling to D.C. had first come up. It was kind of nice having someone else do the begging, er, asking, for a change. In fact, Uncle Joe had seemed happy, even anxious, to talk to Grace on Ellie’s behalf. And he seemed pretty effective in getting her to loosen the reins a bit.

Hmm, so where was it? Ellie could’ve sworn that both she and Angel had set their phones on Carlo’s desk in the corner, but they weren’t there now. And if memory wasn’t failing her, Angel had hung her black leather jacket over the back of the desk chair. That was also no longer in place. She’d have to ask Carlo where he had moved the stuff to, but she didn’t want to interrupt…

“So what we got?”

Ellie spun around to see that Angel had plunked down on the couch and picked up the DVD case from where Ellie had laid it on the coffee table. Ellie joined her on the couch while Angel scanned through the images and description on the box. “Huh. This actually sounds okay. Might even be good.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “It
is
good. It’s Hitchcock. Classic film noir. Spies and wartime secrets and everything.” She took the box back from Angel and opened it, pulling the disc out. “Trust me, Angel, you’re gonna love this.”

“Love what?” Carlo had stepped up behind the couch and was drying his hands on a dish towel. Both women looked up at him, as he read the title over their shoulders. “
Notorious.
Awesome choice, Ellie. Now, you girls get it set up, and I’ll make you both a nice, cold drink.” He looked at Angel. “The usual, baby?” She nodded. “And for you, Ellie? I’ve got a bunch of different sodas, flavored water, tea…”

Ellie looked at both of them. “What’s the usual?”

Angel blushed slightly, then mumbled, “Root beer. It’s my favorite.”

“Root beer? Really?” Ellie grinned, but then shrugged and said, “I’ll try one.”

“Coming right up.” Carlo turned to walk back into the kitchen, but Ellie stopped him, “Oh, Carlo, did you move our phones? I need to text my aunt, or she’ll freak out.”

“O-oh, yeah, I did. They’re…in the kitchen.”

Ellie started to get up. “Okay, I’ll—”

“No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll bring it to you. Help Angel with the DVD. She’s a klutz with machines.”