Read The Origin Online

Authors: Wilette Youkey

The Origin (27 page)

BOOK: The Origin
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“And besides, your face is not yet entirely healed,” Maggie added with a small flick of the wrist that made Olivia feel self-conscious for the first time.

Olivia touched her cheek, where the wounds had all but healed and only slight purple marks remained. “Makeup will cover that.”

Maggie shook her head. “I’m sorry. My mind is made up. Cheyenne will dance the rest of the week. And after you heal, you can come back and audition for another solo.”

Olivia seethed. As much as she liked Cheyenne, she had worked too hard to lose Odette to an understudy now. She’d be damned if she was replaced on account of a few justified tears. “You
will
let me dance as Odette tonight, and for the rest of Swan Lake,” she said with a steady voice, her eyes fixed on Maggie’s face.

Maggie blinked and began to nod. “Yes, you can come back tonight,” she said, but as she spoke, her thin, black eyebrows knitted. “But pay Dr. Hewitt a visit on your way out, okay? Just to be sure you’re all right.”

Olivia stood up, feelings of guilt and relief warring in her head so that she felt a little lightheaded. Had she done the right thing? “If you don’t mind, I’d rather see my own psychiatrist, Dr.
Vogele
.” After the week she’d had, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk to a professional.

Maggie looked surprised at the mention of the most sought after psychiatrist in all of Manhattan. “Well, by all means,” she said with a nod. “I just want to make sure you have a clean bill of health.”

Olivia left the ballet master’s office a few minutes later, feeling a little of the guilt lifting off her chest.

It wasn’t like I robbed a bank,
she thought as she walked down the wide halls of the ballet school she’d come to view as her second home. Would it be considered an abuse of power if she had merely used her silver tongue to get what was rightfully hers? The way she saw it, God had given her two gifts – of dance and of persuasion – and it would be an outright show of defiance if she didn’t use them.

A smile had already formed on her face, the sting from her cut lip completely gone, as she exited the building. Finally, her life was getting back on track.

 

* * * * *

 

The moment Coral stepped inside the dim cathedral, her gaze swept upward from the rows of pews to the white columns rising majestically to
criss-cross
on the ornate ceiling, and she was left with nothing to do but gape. She had been to this house of God many times in the past, yet each visit always imparted in her a sense of unearthly grandeur, an imposing reminder of a greater power at work.

She walked up the aisle slowly, wishing for a vision of a white dress and a waiting groom. With a sigh, she sat down at the edge of a pew and trained her eyes towards the altar. It had been a long time since she’d last entered a church, a fact that filled her with shame and worry. Would God still listen to her, recognize her voice even?

She pulled down the kneeler and assumed the position, her fingers wound tightly in front of her face. “In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit,” she said under her breath as she performed the sign of the cross. She gazed up past the marble pulpit, to an unseen being beyond the stained glass window. “I know it’s been years since I’ve been to mass or confession, but I could really use some guidance here.”

Daniel Johnson’s attractive face appeared in her mind, and once more, she found herself yearning for the dream wedding. But more than the elaborate ceremony and the tuxes and the big cake, she wanted most to belong to someone unequivocally.

“You brought him into my life for a reason, Lord, and I thank you. But I learned something about him that could change the world, and if I tell him, it will change his life forever. It will change him as a person. So what do I do? Do I tell him and risk being hated by the most extraordinary man I know? Or do I keep it to myself? Which is right and which is wrong?”

She sat back and closed her eyes, allowing the incense-scented serenity to fill her lungs. She listened closely for a whispered answer or perhaps a string in her gut to start pulling one way or the other, but the answer did not come.

“Come on, please,” she whispered, squeezing her hands and eyes tighter. “I need to know what to do. Please give me a sign.”

But, it seemed, God was not in a sign-giving mood for all remained as it was, especially the clutter in her brain.

Coral sighed deeply and grasped the wood pew as she stood up. And as she emerged into the sunshine, she made the decision to take matters into her own hands, consequences be damned. This kind of information was simply too fantastic to keep to herself.

 

* * * * *

 

Daniel was grateful for the much-needed reprieve. He had stirred when Olivia rose to dress but had quickly fallen back into unconsciousness once she’d kissed him goodbye. He suspected that she had whispered something in his ear – something that would send him to a dreamless sleep for a long time – and for that, he was thankful. So it was with an angry huff that he awoke to the phone as it rang in the cradle.

“Hello?” He held the phone up to his ear and scratched his right pectoral where the skin itched, irate that his blissful nothing of a dream had been interrupted.

“Daniel, it’s Stephen.”

Daniel opened his eyes with a start. Somehow, in the chaos of the past week, the fact that he still had to keep watch over a bank lobby had escaped his mind. In light of everything that had transpired, his day job suddenly felt so insignificant.

Let the bad guys steal some money. I don’t care,
he thought testily. If the last few days had taught him nothing else, it was that there were far more significant things in the universe that required his attention than opening doors for little old ladies who insisted on depositing their checks the archaic way.

“Stephen, I’m sorry.” All of a sudden, it struck him that he was plain tired of apologizing. “I’ve been dealing with some personal issues.”

“Daniel, personal issues aside, Chase Bank has no need for an unreliable security guard.” His tone was all business, as though they had never spoken before.

“I understand, Stephen,” Daniel said, trying to inject some sincerity in his voice when, in reality, he could not have cared less.

“You do know that that I’m letting you go, correct? You’re being fired.”

He gritted his teeth. “Yes.”

“Drop off your uniform today,” Stephen said as if Daniel had robbed the bank instead of protecting it these past few months.

Funny how quickly people turned on you.

After hanging up, Daniel sat on the edge of the bed and rested his face in his hands, sighing wearily. He was tired of being in a funk, tired of feeling like a depressed piece of crap, tired of the instinct to hide. He needed to get out and breathe some fresh air.

Dressed in his usual jeans, sweatshirt and green jacket, he emerged from the apartment and into the unexpected sunshine. The day was a beautiful, crisp New York day that held promise of an end to the grey winter, and he angled his face up to the warm rays for a few minutes before his stomach rumbled its dissent.

Several seconds later, he stood in front of Johann’s Diner, staring through the window with trepidation at the woman he’d come to associate with misfortune. He couldn’t even begin to guess why she’d come here again, but already he knew he would not like it.

With a ball of dread weighing heavy in his stomach, he opened the door and trudged towards the booth where she sat.

“Daniel,” she said, her glasses reflecting the fluorescent light so that he found it hard to see her eyes. One side of her full, red lips curled up. “Will you please lose the attitude and sit down?”

“What are you doing here?” He clasped his hands on the worn Formica table, a wall to protect himself from the woman who could read minds and divine the future.

She pursed her lips and lost her glasses, revealing two big brown eyes framed with thick lashes. “Would you quit that? I’m not some sort of gypsy oracle.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here? This is no coincidence.” He tried to block his thoughts by humming a tune.

She laughed. “That doesn’t work, by the way. I can still hear what you’re thinking.” She sobered up and leaned forward, the steam from the coffee mug rising like ghostly fingers to caress her face. “And you’re right. I’m here to bring you some bad news.”

Daniel sighed. “Damn.” He rubbed the short spikes of his hair, sure that the police had already linked him to the deaths at the Wheat bar. “Alright, let me have it.”

“It’s not that.” Coral took a deep breath before she spoke again, a tiny motion that petrified Daniel to the core. “The first time we met, I saw a vision. Of you and me inside a house.”

His eyes narrowed as he fought the urge to laugh in relief. “As in living together?” Another laugh was stifled at the absurdity of the statement.

She winced. “It’s not that farfetched. I’m not so horrible.”

“It’s not you,” he said quickly. He shut his mouth and let his thoughts complete the picture of his affection for Olivia, infusing the image with warmth.

“Regardless,” Coral said softly, her eyes cast down. “It’s what I saw. And I haven’t been wrong yet, have I?”

Not exactly,
he thought. “You could have warned me about Rap’s brother.”

“Who?”

“Never mind,” he said, waving away the memories of the man who’d so willingly tried to murder him. Not that he hadn’t deserved to die for what he’d done to Rap and to the others. He forced his thoughts away, towards his found balaclava. “What about the police? Have you had any visions about them?”

She frowned. “No. But they’re the least of your worries, Daniel. Remember when I said you were contagious but I didn’t know anything else?”

His eyes widened and his heart lost the ability to function. “You know.”

“Yes.” Coral leaned forward once more, her eyes wild with intensity. “I lied that night. I know what it is you infect people with.”

“What is it?” he said, straining against his skin. “Tell me, Coral.”

“I…”

He pounded his fist on the table, very nearly breaking it in half. “Damn it Coral, tell me!”

“Okay, okay!” she said, shrinking back into the vinyl seat, though the fire in her eyes remained. “You infect people with special powers.”

30
 
|
 
PRESERVING THE INNOCENT
 

 

“What?” Daniel shot to his feet and tried to absorb what he stood accused of, but his brain, whether for lack of trying or flat out denial, refused to compute. “I don’t understand.”

“Sit down, please,” Coral hissed under her breath and glanced around at the other diners.

With his eyes firmly fixed on the woman, he lowered himself to the seat.

“Your skin has an effect, similar to a virus that spreads on contact,” she said, going slowly for his benefit. “Except in your case, you’re not spreading germs. You’re spreading powers.”

He leaned into his palm and covered his eyes. Immediately he thought of the people he’d encountered with special abilities like his own. Had he unwittingly awakened those powers in them? “But there are others, like that kid who can walk through walls. How did I infect him with a power I don’t have?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but the virus invades the cells of the host and takes over what’s already there.” She shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. I’m not a geneticist.”

“Shit!” he said, gripping the edge of the table and feeling the pressed wood disintegrate under his fingers. He had touched, accidentally or otherwise, hundreds of people in his twenty-seven years of existence. And many of them had been criminals, the same ones he had been trying to quash in the first place. Had he unintentionally armed an entire city of criminals with extraordinary powers? “How can you be so sure? You could be wrong!”
You
have
to be wrong!

“I’m not. This is your destiny,” Coral said without a trace of doubt on her face. “Once you touch someone, you can awaken their power.”

“I
can
? Meaning, it doesn’t happen with everyone?” he said with renewed hope. He was splitting hairs, but he didn’t care. The game had suddenly changed on him, and he needed all the rules.

“I don’t think so. Just like with a regular virus, some people are immune.”

Daniel paused, trying to stop his whirling dervish of thoughts. The power to propagate more powers was a responsibility that no mere mortal – especially one so foolish and weak of will – should ever bear.

“So can they fight the virus off? I mean, if it works like a virus, then the body’s immune system should be able to fight it off, right?” He looked at her with wide eyes as a current of hope surged through his veins. “Right?”

She shook her head gently. “I honestly don’t know,” she said, placing her delicate fingers on the table as if afraid to reach out further and comfort him. “But there’s nothing you can do to change what you are, Daniel.
You
can’t fight this off.”

BOOK: The Origin
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