At least her hands were clasped between her knees. And the compact silver gun was out of sight.
“Talents are people of the normal world who have abilities associated with the unseen world,” Hilario said, “Normal people who exhibit what you might call supernatural powers.”
“Sounds like a load of bullcrap,” Marco said, “What’s the known thing about?”
Did Rachel’s jaw tighten at that? He thought he saw muscles bunch along her jaw.
“Ah, yes. Well, there are…let’s call them representatives of the unseen world here in the normal world,” Hilario said, “They like to keep tabs on talents in order to make sure unusual events don’t occur.”
Detective Marco’s look in the review indicated he thought this was yet another load of cow poop.
“What kind of unusual events are we talking about here, clown boy?” Marco said, “Terrorists, maybe?”
Hilario smoothed down the front of his puffy orange and white striped suit. It was getting clammy and sticky with his ever-present sweat production. The amount of sweat he generated was an on-going exercise in hydrological control. Simple when compared to uncomfortable questions about talents and unusual events.
“I wouldn’t classify them as terrorists,” Hilario said, “For the most part they are simply ordinary citizens with some unusual abilities. Very few of them have any abilities worth monitoring. Those that do possess significant abilities are often, um, contacted so that they can be trained in ways to control their talents.”
Which was not quite a fib. But nowhere near the truth, either.
Detective Marco started to let out another statement concerning the digestive process of bovines. But Rachel broke her silence.
“They don’t know about me,” she said, “But I know about them.”
Hilario’s heart skipped a beat.
Oh dear.
He drew a breath of chill air from the partially open window. It made shivers run over his body. No. That wasn’t it. What chilled him was the implications of an unknown talent living in the city. A talent of unknown abilities.
He tried to make his next question sound casual, but it came out with a tremor.
“So…your talent…how far does it go?”
“Why didn’t they take him?” Rachel asked.
For a moment Hilario thought to feign ignorance, but they were quite beyond that, weren’t they?
“It was my fault,” Hilario said, “The black angels were there. I had forgotten about the fire rites. Larry saw me. Somehow he imprinted on the van. One of the black angels came our way. I removed myself from the area with great haste.”
“You are known to them,” Rachel said.
It wasn’t a question. How much of him had she seen? There was only a moment before he got his shields closed.
But that was enough time for a strong talent to see a lot.
“I would rather not have any direct confrontations with them,” Hilario said.
He put on the brakes as they came to the bottom of the hill. The van groaned to a stop. The engine rattled and coughed. Exhaust fumes trickled around the engine cover. He rolled the window down all the way. Welcome earthy scents of pine and evergreen drifted in.
There was no traffic on the avenue in front of him. He tried to think what time it might be. Nearly midnight? What time had he come upon the heartrending sight of the Stung Sparrow, collapsed and wreathed in smoke? Nine o’clock?
“He imprinted on you, not your van,” Rachel said.
Hilario squeezed his eyes shut. Clenched his white gloved fingers around the wheel even tighter. So tight the plastic covering the steering wheel’s metal frame should be squeezing through his fingers like putty.
“I’ve been trying not to think about that,” he said.
Detective Marco harrumphed from his spot on the floor.
“What the fuck is all this crap?” he said, “I don’t believe in all this mumbo jumbo magic shit.”
“Your not believing doesn’t make it any less real,” Rachel said.
“Fuck that,” Marco said.
But his heart didn’t seem to be in it. The detective stared down at his shoes.
Hilario cleared his throat.
“Rachel,” he said, “With your talent, have you noticed Detective Marco’s shield? Oh, poopy crackers.”
The realization was like a seven legged bog-horse kicking him between the eyes. Well, didn’t that explain things?
“You did it, didn’t you?” he said.
“He needed protection,” Rachel said, “The unseen has been pushing farther into the city. You’ve noticed it. Haven’t you?”
He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. Her eyes met his. They glittered. Almost as if there were light within them. He blinked and the effect was gone. His imagination?
“I have,” he said.
“Do you know why?” she said.
He shook his head. “No. I’m quite low on the proverbial totem pole. Do you know what’s going on?”
She frowned. Her fingers twisted around each other.
“No,” she said, “I just have a feeling.”
Was her talent raw? Did she have any training on how to use it?
And how far did her talent go?
“What do you feel?” he said.
She shuddered and turned her head away. “Something big is coming. Something that will change the city.”
He chose his next words carefully. Tried to keep his voice neutral. Letting the gut churning terror that clenched his entire body come through wouldn’t be helpful.
“Rachel, dear lady,” he said, “Have you been able to see anything that may come? Do your abilities extend to far seeing?”
Rachel was silent for several seconds. The van’s engine rattled on as they sat at the quiet intersection. Red light from the stop signal bathed the inside of the van with a hellish glow.
When she spoke again, her voice was a husky whisper. “I get glimpses.”
“Tell me what you have seen,” he said.
She looked up. Met his eyes in the rearview mirror. Red glittered in her eyes. The signal light made her skin glow with dusky sunset.
“Monsters amongst us,” she said, “The
