“You do not know me.” He’d laid his head back, face turned up to the ceiling and eyes closed, yet he looked anything but peaceful.
“The blood on your pants . . . modulators don’t affect animals?” He didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Is she going to be a super cat now?” Something had to break his mood.
“They self-destruct quickly outside of the body. A failsafe, so we do not accidentally infect everyone we interact with.” He opened one eye to look at me, “I took additional precautions with you . . . with the knife.”
Of course, he did.
His hand turned in mine, and his fingers gently stroked my palm. I shivered and tried to laugh it off.
“Tickles.”
“You do understand, Lila?” The tendons in his neck were taut as he focused on the ceiling again, “Why I cannot risk giving them to you?”
“Not really, but I get it. Mimi didn’t ask you to, and you think my magic nightmares are useful somehow.”
“Useful.”
“Sure, you’ve said as much. I keep telling you, I’m not stupid.” I made a face. “Once I’m paying attention.”
“I never questioned your intelligence.” He laced his fingers in mine. “You will not be alone.”
“Can’t be that bad,” I said, but his grip tightened. “They’re still just dreams, right? I mean, my brain thinks it’s real, but—” An odd sensation stopped me. The hand he was holding—no, the scars on that hand, were vibrating.
You are stupid, Lila.
“I will help you,” he said.
“Wh-what exactly do y’all want me to do?”
“That is still being considered. First you must learn to control your ability.”
“And . . . just so we’re clear . . . ” I swallowed and firmed my voice, “should I choose not . . . ?” I didn’t need to finish my question. A sudden flush of scalding heat was the answer. I extricated my hand and busied myself with straightening the table. Reflexive nesting. Aliens might want to play with my brain, but there wouldn’t be ashes on my furniture, damn it.
“I am not angry with you.” His voice was flat, and I didn’t bother to turn around.
“Wouldn’t matter if you were.” I was delusional if I’d thought I’d have a choice. “What’s the worst that could happen, anyway?” I brushed a tiny fleck into the bowl and watched it float among the mess.
“I do not know.”
I twisted to give him a good a glare. “You know, your bad mood isn’t exactly helping here.”
“You should get some sleep.”
“No.”
“Will you at least allow me to refresh your body?”
My sudden blush was unfortunate. “Tempting, but no.”
“At least sit here with me and rest. We should allow your long day to end.”
“Only if you’ll help me stay awake.” I was tired. I settled back against the cushions and pulled my legs up. He took my hand again, as an old friend would, and Pebbles blinked at me. “Promise?”
“No.”
A warm tingle vibrated along my spine, and I drooped against him.
“You’ll pay for this,” I mumbled into his arm.
“I know.”
He smelled like the marsh after a rain, and my breathing slowed.
“’Leen . . . ”
“She is still asleep.” He smoothed a wisp of hair from my cheek. “Rest now. You are both safe with me.”
I dreamed of a carousel. Faces I knew and loved whirled past, bobbing up and down, faster and faster as merry music blared from an unseen speaker. Sal was there, smiling down at me, and his voice was cheerful and light in my head: Pick a horse, Lilith! They’re waiting for you!
But the carousel didn’t slow, and I realized it had multiple levels, each moving at a different speed. His big hand patted my shoulder, and I looked up to see my grandmother, much older than I remembered her, with long white hair curling around her wrinkled face. Her mouth moved, and I felt her, soft and loving: Choose, Lilith Ann. They’re waiting.
I pointed, and she settled me onto a prancing bay with an arched neck and red spiral pole. From here I could see all the strangers spin past us, and I wondered why they didn’t pick a horse, too.
“What the heck?!”
My eyes opened to see my daughter standing on the other side of the coffee table.
“Were y’all having a séance or something?”
The morning sun had replaced the glow of candles, and Sal was gone.
“Hey, sweetie.” I sat up, kicking free of the sheet around my legs. Damn him. “Sleep well?”
“Was hot,” she rubbed one eye and frowned. “What were you doing?”
“Just talking, hon,” I put one finger to my lips, “Tell ya later, okay?” At her slow nod, I looked around. “Where is he?”
“Maybe aliens beamed him up,” she peered into the bowl, and then reached among the candles for a small plastic soda bottle. I hadn’t noticed it last night, but I knew exactly what was in it. The murky liquid sloshed around as she held it up for inspection, unscrewed the cap to sniff, frowned again, and set it back down.
“Hungry for breakfast?”
“I’m gross. I need a shower.”
“Let me brush my teeth first, ‘kay?” I stood up, fully expecting to feel sore, but not a muscle in my body complained. Damn him, again. I gave her a quick hug and whispered, “Later, I promise.”
I hurried in the bathroom, knowing that wherever Sal had gone, he’d be back soon. Sure enough, Eileen had just gotten in the shower when the porch door swung open. He was wearing fresh clothes, cross-terrain sandals, and had two large bags of groceries in his arms.
“Nice shoes.” I clunked the bowl in the sink, and he approached cautiously. “Morning run, I see. Put those down.” I stalked outside, and he followed.
“You are—”
“Uh-uh. No, sir.” I swung him around and planted him at the railing. “You shut up and listen. You do not have the right to do what you please just because you
