Touching Smoke (19 page)

“It won’t do you any good,” he shifted closer, dropping his voice. “Garrison has Trackers. They will find you the second you turn seventeen.”

“What the hell’s a Tracker?” I shrilled.

“It’s the one power wielder Ashton warned me to watch out for most. They can find anyone with even a spark of power. They can’t be tricked, and you can’t out run them. Their ability is to track others with powers.”

I folded my arms. “Well, it’s a good thing then that I don’t have any powers.”

“You do! Maybe not a whole lot right now, but you will.”

A chill roamed mockingly down my spine, a sick reminder that I was not in control of my own life anymore. I wrapped my arms around myself, cupping my elbows in a pathetic attempt to ward away the dread. “How can you possibly know that?”

He sighed. “Because you’ve already showed signs, the earthquake for example. That was you,” he added I stared at him like he’d spoke in tongues.

The table rattled as I nearly leapt out of my chair. “I caused an earthquake?” I shrieked, horrified.

He shushed me, glancing around to make sure no one else had heard me. The two at the bar were still engrossed in their bottles and the old woman was nowhere in sight.

“It’s the first sign of developing powers, and that’s how Garrison’s cronies found you that night.”

“Is that what you meant when you told my mom I was becoming unstable?” I hissed, barely controlling the volume of my tone.

“Yes.”

I gasped in disbelief, slumping back in my seat. “Is there anything else I should know? Because you failed to mention that small
important
point last night when we were talking!”

 “Everything is much more sensitive with you.”

“Just tell me the truth!” The salt and pepper shakers shook dangerously when I slammed my hand down on the table. Water glasses rattled and dishes clanked, but I continued to stare at Isaiah. “I can handle it. Stop treating me like some stupid kid who needs to be coddled and protected!”

“You
do
need to be protected!” he hissed back. “We have no idea what you are capable of doing. For all we know, you could explode if you get angry enough. Everything I say, I have to be careful. I have to make sure I give it to you in small doses. I don’t like it, but if it means keeping you safe, keeping you alive… well, then I’m willing to do whatever it takes!”

I scoffed. “That’s just stupid!” I growled. “Don’t you dare pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining, Isaiah. You have no idea of what I’m capable, and I’m getting sick and tired of people keeping my life a secret from me and claiming it’s to protect me! Well, you know what, it’s
my life
and I have the right to know what’s happening to me.”

“You have absolutely no control over your emotions, Fallon. Are you really willing to sacrifice the lives of billions for answers?”

My fury snapped. “That’s low!”

“But it’s true. Even you can’t tell me with complete confidence how you will react to something I say or how big the damage could be if you take it badly.”

I had a rebuff right on the tip of my tongue when the little, old lady approached our table, interrupting our heated argument.

“Are you dears ready to order?” she asked, smiling at us sweetly.

I let Isaiah order first, needing a minute to calm myself before I did something I would regret later, like snap at the lady for no reason.

“And you, sweetie?” she asked me.

“The omelet, please,” I said, offering her a forced smile in return. “Coffee and a glass of orange juice.”

I hadn’t meant to order the coffee. Some habits were hard to forget, I guessed. But it was done and I didn’t have the heart to un-order it.

“I’ll have those out for you in just a minute.” With a smile for each of us, she walked away.

Isaiah and I sat in silence, deliberately avoiding the other’s gaze. A sax solo poured from the hidden speakers, barely muffling the scrap of bottle against wood originating from the bar.

“Let me take you to your father,” Isaiah said finally.

 “Why?” I looked at him, really looked at him. “Why is it so important that I go to him?”

“Because he can help!”

I laughed bitterly. “Help? Like he’s helped me my whole life? That kind of help? No thanks. I’ve done just fine without him this far.”

“You don’t understand, Fallon,” he leaned forward. “If you meet him—”

“I’ll come to love him the way you love him?” I snorted. “Don’t hold your breath, Isaiah. He hasn’t exactly been this golden idol in my life the way he seems to have been in yours, okay? In my world, he ignored me. In my world, he’s dead, and I’m not looking to start any father-daughter relationship with a man who couldn’t even bring himself to be a part of my life after my mother died, leaving me completely alone in the world.”

“There’s more to the story than that.”

I swung just my eyes in Isaiah’s direction. “Let me guess, I’m too delicate to handle that story, right?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not for me to tell.”

I rolled my eyes. “Figures. It’s always something. Any excuse not to be truthful, and yet you expect me to just trust you.”

“I expect you to believe I would never hurt you!” he growled through his teeth. “That I will do anything, and everything, to keep you safe.”

“Sorry, dears,” the little lady appeared at our elbows, a small tray containing three glasses in hand. “Don’t mean to interrupt.” She placed our drinks down in front of us. “I hope everything is all right. I couldn’t help but notice you were having a bit of a disagreement.”

“We’re fine,” I mumbled, wanting her to just go away, so Isaiah and I could finish our talk. “Thank you.”

“You know, my Billy and I were married sixty-two years before he died in his sleep,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “We had our own share of arguments I tell you. But we always worked it out. It’s all about communication.”

“And honesty, no doubt,” I added, turning my glare on Isaiah.

The lady nodded solemnly. “Oh yes, honesty is a big factor.”

“Thank you,” Isaiah bit out, dark pools of blue boring into me. “We’ll work it out.”

“Of course you will, dear. Now go ahead and have a drink. Sometimes a refreshing beverage is all you really need to put things into focus.”

When it became apparent that she wasn’t leaving until we did, Isaiah and I both lifted our drinks — me my orange juice and he his milk — and sipped.

“More!” she chortled, waving her hands. “Go on.”

Resigned, we took bigger gulps; both of us nearly finishing the contents before she was satisfied.

“There!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “How do you feel?”

Not so great. The room was growing fuzzy around the edges and the tiny glass in my hand felt about a hundred pounds. The music was slurring in my ears and everything seemed to pulse with a colorful heartbeat.

“Wha—wha…” I tried shaking my head, but it was so heavy, too heavy on my shoulders.

“It’s all right, dearie,” the woman said, smile not so sweet anymore. “Just relax and let the drug work its magic.”

Drug? I was drugged?  What the hell!

“Isaiah…”

I raised my head towards him, feeling as though I were lifting a boulder. My neck wobbled uncontrollably, tipping dangerously to the left. The world swayed. The glass in my hand toppled, hitting the clean tablecloth with a crack so loud it could have been thunder. Orange juice splashed across the white fabric and trickled over the edge. I heard the splash and every drip as though amplified.

Somewhere in the room, a chair screeched across the hardwood. Glass shattered. Someone screamed — it could have been me, I wasn’t sure. A deep, penetrating growl pierced the chaos. More furniture was upended and I just sat there, fighting to keep my eyelids open. At one point, I blinked, and when I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by lights, large, flashing lights so bright they made my eyes water.

“Fallon?” Suddenly Isaiah’s face was in front of me and I realized I was on my back, staring at the ceiling and the fluorescent lights. “Fallon!”

“I don’t feel so good…” I groaned. Was it considered bad manners to throw up in a restaurant? I wondered. I’d never been drugged before so the protocol was a little hazy.

 “I know,” he was breathing hard and his face was glistening with sweat. He didn’t look so good himself. “Just hang on, okay? I’ll get you out of here.”

I tried to say okay, but he was staggering to his feet, swaying as dangerously as everything else around me. I couldn’t be sure if it was because he was drugged too, or because I was seeing things.

“You’re not taking her anywhere, Isaiah,” a very sexy voice drawled from somewhere above me. “The boss wants a word with her, and you
know
that what the boss wants, the boss gets.”

I rolled onto my belly. Gravity, as thick as syrup, rebelled against my movement, pushing me down, crushing me into the rough carpet. My stomach protested the motion fervidly, but I had to see whom we were up against because that voice did not belong to any nice old lady.

The woman standing there was scary,
gorgeous,
but definitely scary. She was all legs — it was the first thing I noticed, even without the teetering, seven-inch ankle boots — long, toned legs clad in skin tight spandex that looked painted on. Her waist was tiny, cinched by a thick, black belt. She wore a tight, spandex top that plunged dangerously in front. Her hair, a shade shy of midnight was pulled back from her face and fastened in a tight ponytail at the very top of her head. The strands fell like a black waterfall down her back. In one hand, she held a gun aimed at Isaiah, while shaking off a pink sweater off with her other.

“Shifting into an old lady? Really, Maia, that’s a new low, even for you!” Isaiah was saying, his words slurred slightly.

Maia grinned, her ruby-red lips curving maliciously. “Don’t be sour, love. We always knew I was better at this game then you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Isaiah growled.

Maia’s wide, almond-shaped eyes narrowed. “That’s right, you don’t remember.” She pouted her bottom lip. “That’s too bad. We used to have so much fun together once.”

Great, an ex-girlfriend with a chip on her shoulder. That’s all I needed.

“Now, say good-bye, pet.”

I heard the gun cock like a bomb going off. The sound scrapped like daggers along my spine. I felt the cold grip of fear wrap around my heart.

“No—!”

“Do not kill him!” an ethereal voice growled from somewhere on Maia’s body, interrupting my scream. For a second, I thought maybe she had a split personality, then, she reached around and pulled a walkie-talkie out of her... somewhere. Maybe her belt? Can’t imagine where one would find space to store things in that tight suit. “I repeat, do not kill Isaiah!”

“Copy!” She muttered into the device, expression twisted in annoyance. She stuffed the walkie-talkie back into its hiding place. “Lucky day for you, Isaiah, you get to live.”

“Not sure I can say the same for you,” Isaiah taunted, staggering dangerously to the right.

Maia laughed. “Even you can’t pull a miracle this time. Just relax. This will all be over soon enough.”

Three menacing figures stepped up behind her, looking irritatingly familiar and seriously irate.

“Hello, boys,” Maia purred arrogantly. “Nice of you to join the party.”

I recognized the one on the right as Yuri. He had a gauze bandage wrapped around his forearm and an eye patch over his right eye. The other two were the goons who chased us at the school and killed my mom.

“You!” I growled, my limbs trembled as I heaved my deadweight up onto my hands and knees. “You killed my mom!”

Maia sighed, stealing a peek at her perfectly manicured fingernails. “What little good that did when they didn’t even capture you in the process. But you know what they say, never send a man to do a woman’s job.” With a smirk for me, she turned her head towards Yuri. “Call the boss. Tell him we have the girl.”

Yuri scowled at Maia, clearly disliking the idea of having to take orders from anyone. Nevertheless, he removed a cell phone from one of the pockets on his belt. The sleek device clicked audibly when he flipped it open and pressed it to his ear. He turned his back on the group while he talked.

The table I tried to use as leverage to stand crashed beneath me. My hard collision with the ground knocked the oxygen from my lungs, combined with the heavy fog settling like clam chowder over my senses, the only thing keeping me from succumbing  to the darkness pressing in around me was the consuming hunger to tear the two in front of me into pieces. It was my only drive. I wanted to watch them die.

“I’m going to kill you!” I panted through my teeth, reaching for something else to steady me.

Maia laughed. Yuri glowered over his shoulder, silently telling me to keep quiet while he talked on the phone. The other two remained impassive, staring at me as if I were an insect put there for their amusement. Their blank expressions were worse than the mocking amusement from Maia. Being laughed at was easier to swallow then seeing my mom’s murderers standing there without remorse. How dare they look so smug when my mom could now fit in a tiny tin box?