Intertwined
His caseworker, Ms. Killerman, was the reason Aden was here. She was hellishly old, probably thirtysomething like Dan, and struck Aden as, well, cold. She’d been assigned to him while he’d been wasting away in the last institution. He’d had a tutor, of course, but he hadn’t been able to leave the grounds.
He’d complained. When Killerman told him about the D and M and placed a request for his admittance, he’d been shocked. And when a spot had finally opened up, he’d been overjoyed. To think that he could now lose that spot as he’d feared earlier, without Dan even seeing that decimated graveyard …
“Aden. Are you listening to me?” Dan asked. “I said I could call your caseworker about this.”
“I know.” He peeked up at Dan, whose features were hidden in shadow. “Are you?”
Silence. Dreadful silence.
Then Dan reached over and mussed his hair. “Not this time. But I’m not always going to be a pushover, you got me? I believe in you, Aden. I want good things for you. But you have to obey my rules.”
The gesture was unexpected, the words wonderfully shocking. I believe in you. Something burned his eyes. Aden refused to believe it was tears, even when his chin started trembling. There might be a girl inside his head, but he wasn’t a wimp.
“Are you still taking your meds?” Dan asked him.
“Yes. Of course.” A lie. Truth, half truths or even omissions wouldn’t work this time. To Dan, admitting he flushed his pills down the toilet would be worse than sneaking into town. Besides, he didn’t need the pills. They made him weak, tired, his mind foggy. Which he was starting to feel anyway, he realized, swaying as a wave of dizziness assaulted him. Stupid corpse poison. Still, with the dizziness came a sense of urgency. “I actually came looking for you when I returned. I—I—“ Do it, just say it. Put it out there. “I want to go to public school. Crossroads High.” There. Done. There would be no taking the words back.
Dan’s brow furrowed. “Public school? Why?”
There was only one explanation that sounded believable. “I’ve never been around normal, average kids my own age, and I think it could be good for me. I could watch them, interact with them, learn from them. Please. I haven’t missed a therapy session since I got here. Twice a week. Dr. Quine thinks I’m doing good.” Dr. Quine was the latest to try and fix him. Aden actually liked her; she truly seemed to care about him.
“I know. She keeps me apprised.”
Which was why Aden guarded his words around the well-meaning doctor, as well. Another wave of dizziness hit him, and he rubbed his temples. “If you’ll just call Ms. Killerman, she can sign the necessary papers and I can be in class by next week. I’ll only have missed the first month, and it’ll be the beginning of my new, normal life. A life you said you wanted for me.”
Dan didn’t even take a moment to think about it. “Good in theory, but … No matter what you tell Dr. Quine, you’re still having conversations with yourself. Don’t try to deny it, because I heard you just this morning. You stare out at nothing for hours, disappear, and even though I just found you with the other boys, you were stiff and angry, so I know you haven’t made friends with them. I’m sorry, kid, but my answer is no.”
“But—”
“Nope. That’s my final verdict. In time, maybe.”
“I haven’t made friends because no one here is interested.”
“Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.”
Aden’s hands clenched at his sides, a red haze clouding his vision. He didn’t know whether it was from the poison or his anger. Maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough, but why should that matter? He didn’t want to make friends with Ozzie and his sheep.
“I know you’re angry, but this is for the best. If you were to hurt one of the students, you’d be incarcerated, no more chances. And like I said, I don’t want that for you. You’re a good kid with a lot of potential. Let’s give you a chance to reach that potential and shine. Okay?”
Some of Aden’s anger drained. How could it not, in the face of Dan’s kindness? His determination, however, only strengthened. He had to attend that school, had to spend more time with Mary Ann. Yeah, he could “accidentally” run into her in town, but when? How often? School was in session five days a week, seven hours a day. There, he’d have a better chance of learning about her, about how she, well, temporarily fixed him.
And, for those seven blessed hours, he’d be at peace. For that, he’d do anything. Even … He gulped, not liking where the thought ended.
“Are you sure?” he asked, giving Dan one last chance.
“Very.”
“Okay, then.” Aden scanned the pasture, then glanced behind him to gauge just how well the dregs could see him from the bunkhouse if they happened to be watching from the windows. A direct view. That was unfortunate but couldn’t be helped. Hopefully, if they were watching, they would assume the drug they’d just smoked was causing hallucinations.
Are you really going to do this? he asked himself. A million things could go wrong. People could learn the extent of his abilities, decide to test him, lock him away forever. A tremor slid the length of his spine, and he nervously licked his lips. Yes. Yes, he was. There was no other way, the outcome too important.
I know what you’re planning, Ad, and it’s not a good idea. Had Caleb possessed a body of his own, he would have been gripping Aden’s shoulders and shaking. Actually, it’s a terrible idea. I don’t have to be a psychic to know that.
Last time he’d done something like this, he’d spent a week in bed, cold, shaking, afraid of every noise, every touch against his skin too much for him to bear. And with the toxin even now traveling through him, the aftermath could be a thousand times worse.
Aden, Eve begin, a lecture clearly imminent.
“I’m sorry, Dan,” Aden said … just before stepping into Dan’s body.
He screamed at the agonizing pain of morphing from solid mass to inconsequential mist, which in turn caused Dan to scream. They fell to their knees, dizzy. Colors were blurring together, the green of the grass with the brown of the cows, the bright red of the tractor with the yellow of the wheat. He was panting, sweating, his stomach threatening to revolt.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. Several minutes passed before he found a center of gravity. The pain ebbed, but only slightly.
Now you’ve gone and done it, Caleb snapped.
“He won’t remember this.” It was weird, knowing he was talking but hearing a different voice come out. “We’ll be fine.” He hoped.
Well, do what you want to do and let’s get the hell out of here, Julian said. God, I can’t believe you sometimes.
Elijah moaned. If anyone ever learns you’re capable of doing this …
“They won’t.” Again, he hoped. Aden forced Dan’s hand to dig into his pocket and remove his cell phone, as if the body were his own. The hand was shaking but he managed to scroll through the address book and find Tamera Killerman. Her number was on speed dial.
Gulping, nervous, Aden connected them.
“Hello?” his caseworker answered after three rings.
You can still walk away, honey. You don’t have to do this, don’t have to risk being found out.
“Hi, Ms. Killerman.” He experienced more of that dizziness, more of that churning in his stomach. Concentrate. “This is Ad—Dan Reeves.”
A pause. A giggle.
A giggle? From calm and collected Killerman? He’d known her over a year, yet she’d rarely even cracked a smile. Aden blinked in surprise.
“Ms. Killerman, is it?” There was a breathless quality to her voice that made Aden’s stomach curdle. “Yesterday you called me sweetheart.”
“I—uh …”
“So how are you, baby, and when will I get to see you again?”
Baby? Why would she—Realization slammed into him, and he scowled, nearly overcome with disappointment and anger. Dan was married. Dan should only ever be called “baby” by his wife. A wife Aden liked. Meg Reeves cooked wonderful meals, had a smile for everyone and had never scolded him. She even hummed while she cleaned her house.
Just then, Aden wanted inside Dan’s memories; he wanted to know why the man would betray such a wonderful woman. But mind reading seemed like the only ability he didn’t possess. Doesn’t matter. Finish what you started before you’re too sick. “Listen, Ms. Killerman. I want to enroll Haden Stone in the local high school. Crossroads High.”
“Haden?” Shock dripped from her now, and Aden imagined her pretty but cool face pinching in confusion. “The schizophrenic? Why?”
His teeth ground together in irritation. I’m not schizophrenic! “Interacting with the other students will be good for m—him. Besides, in the short amount of time he’s been here, he’s improved so much I’m not even sure why he’s here.” Too much?
“That’s great, but are you sure he’s ready? When we talked yesterday you said he was progressing slowly.”
He had, had he? “Yesterday I wasn’t talking about Aden. I was talking about Ozzie Harmon.” Take that, dreg. “Aden is totally ready.”
“Totally?” She laughed again. “Dan, are you all right? You sound a little … I don’t know, unlike yourself.”
He swayed, barely caught himself. “I’m fine. Just tired. Anyway, if you could set this into motion for me, I’d really appreciate it.” Surely that was something Dan would say. “Okay?”
“Okay. I guess. But do you still want Shannon Ross to attend Crossroads, as well?”
Shannon? Why Shannon? And why had no one been told? “Yes. Talk to you later,” he added before she could ask more questions. “Baby.”
Click.
For a long while, Aden stared down at the phone, struggling to breathe, his shaking intensified. Thankfully, Ms. Killerman never called back.
Later, when Dan was alone, he’d remember his chat with Aden yet think he’d made the phone call of his own volition. He’d wonder at his motives, but would not recall the way Aden had stepped inside him. They never did. Maybe because their minds couldn’t process it. Maybe because Aden took the memory with him.
Either way, he wondered if Dan would call Killerman back and tell her that he changed his mind. And would Killerman follow through on her promise to set things into motion?
Only time would tell.
Now all Aden had to do was wait. That, and heal, he thought, as he and Dan hunched over and vomited. Great. His battle with the poison had finally begun.
FOUR
ADEN SPENT THE NEXT SIX DAYS in and out of consciousness. Several times he wanted to give up, just end it all and float away from the scalding mass of pain that was his body. But he didn’t. He fought. Fought harder than he’d ever fought for anything, one thought driving him: the peace that came with Mary Ann.
A few times, he’d even hallucinated and thought he saw her hovering over him, that long dark hair tickling his chest. Or maybe Elijah’s ability was expanding and he’d had another non-death vision, catching glimpses of the future. Only, unlike in real life, her skin had been pale rather than sun kissed and as hot as a living flame. What’s more, her eyes had been bright blue rather than hazel.
There were a few explanations for the differences. Either his visions had never been of Mary Ann and he still had yet to truly meet his brunette or, sick as he’d been, he’d simply gotten the details wrong this time.
Both were entirely possible. He’d realized that while he had seen his brunette in the dark recesses of his mind too many times to count, he’d never really retained knowledge about her actual facial features.
The face he’d seen this week, well, he would not be forgetting.
“Sleep,” she’d said, fingertips gently coasting over his brow and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “When you heal, there is much for us to discuss.”
“Like?” he’d managed to work past the rawness of his throat.
“Like how you summoned my people. Like how I still feel the hum of you. Like how that hum stopped for a little bit of time. Like why you want us here. Like whether or not we’ll allow you to live. We will talk, though, when your blood smells less like the living dead.”
It was a conversation he couldn’t even begin to explain.
Unlike his encounters with Mary Ann, he hadn’t wanted to run from this apparition, nor had he wanted to hug her as he would a sister. He hadn’t experienced that painful gust of wind, either. He’d wanted to tangle his hands in her hair, draw her close, so close, and drink in the scent of her. Honeysuckle and rose. He’d wanted to kiss her the way they’d kissed in the visions.
Eventually, though, the fever faded, and the hallucinations ended. His sweating ebbed and his muscles stopped seizing, leaving him weak and hungry.
Finally, Aden lumbered from his bed, his only clothing a pair of boxers that were sweat-dried to his skin. He’d hidden the worst of his pain, keeping his moans contained inside his head. Anything to avoid hospitals and doctors, pinching and poking and questions. God, the questions.
He’d been excused from tutoring sessions and barn duty all week. Dan had kept tabs on him, though, flittering in and out of his room, expression concerned yet somewhat suspicious. If they’d had a heart-to-heart about what was going on, Aden didn’t remember it. Only thing he remembered was Dan asking if he knew anything about the desecration of the cemetery. Apparently several stations had blasted the story as he’d feared. He’d had the presence of mind to say no.
He swiped up the peanut butter sandwich Dan had left him during his final visit this morning and downed it in three bites. Stomach calming, he quickly showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a plain gray T-shirt. Dan was taking him and Shannon shopping. That, too, he remembered. It was something the big guy had never done before and there was only one reason Aden could think of for such a trip: Dan was going to allow them to attend Crossroads High.
His relief was palpable. So many things could have gone wrong. Ms. Killerman could have changed her mind and opted not to follow Dan’s recommendation. Dan could have chalked the “decision” to let Aden loose on the public school system up to a moment of insanity and canceled the paperwork.
A hand slapped his open door frame, the loud boom jolting him, and then Shannon was peeking inside. His green eyes were devoid of emotion. “T-time to g-go.” Without waiting for Aden’s response, he pivoted and stalked away. Down the hall, the main door slammed shut.
One by one, the souls woke up, stretching and sighing. Great.
What’s going on? Eve asked sleepily.
“School shopping,” he muttered as he strode from his room. “So we’ll talk later. Okay?”
Ozzie and Seth were standing in front of their bedroom door, arms crossed over their chests. Everyone had a roommate but Aden. No one wanted to share quarters with the schizo, and that was fine with him.
“Talking to yourself again?” Seth said with a laugh. “Why? It’s not like you’re all that stimulating.”
Aden raised his chin and tried to move past them.
Ozzie grabbed his arm, jerking him to a stop. “Where do you think you’re going, Crazy? You’ve been hiding from me lately, and we’ve got a few things to discuss.”
Aden whipped his attention to the boy, the urge to attack strong. He didn’t like being threatened like this. Too many times in too many institutions, he’d been held down and beaten up.
You can’t afford to punch it out with Ozzie, Eve said.
If Ozzie continued to push him like this, Aden wouldn’t be able to help himself. His patience was used up. He would attack. And he wouldn’t fight fair. Even now, his daggers were pressed against his ankles, waiting.
“Let go,” he snarled.
Ozzie blinked in surprise, but maintained his grip. “You better be talking to one of your invisible friends, freak, or I swear to God I’ll cut you to ribbons while you sleep.”
Seth snickered.
Aden’s jaw clenched.
I’m serious, Aden. Don’t engage him, Eve said on a trembling breath.
Continue down this path and you might not make your first day of school, Elijah warned. And if you don’t make your first day, you won’t see the girl.
He jerked free from Ozzie and strode away without another word.
“Look at the little baby run,” Ozzie called.
His cheeks heated but he didn’t turn around. Better to let them think poorly of him than to prove just how wrong they were. Because, in the proving, someone would be hurt and it wouldn’t be him. And, as Elijah had reminded him, Mary Ann and public school loomed on the horizon. He would have to be a good little robot, not make waves, and avoid trouble as if it were a cemetery.
Outside, the brightness of the sun had his eyes watering. He blinked against it, searching for Dan’s truck. His gaze snagged on the line of trees beside the main house, zooming in, and his jaw dropped. There, in the shadows, stood the brunette. His brunette. The one from his visions.
Only, she wasn’t Mary Ann. He realized it now beyond any doubt.
This girl was taller, with a face that belonged in magazines. Those big blue eyes were framed by long black lashes. She had a small nose and heart-shaped lips that were bloodred. Her skin was as pale as snow. Her hair was long, hanging to her waist and curling slightly. Those curls were so black they seemed tinted with blue, and they swirled around her shoulders with every breeze.
Was this a vision? he suddenly wondered. Or was she really there?
A boy stood behind her, tall and menacing, his skin tanned, his body a powerhouse of muscle stacked upon muscle.
Both wore black: The boy a T-shirt and slacks, the girl a robe of some sort. It draped one shoulder like a toga while leaving the other bare, was cinched in the middle by silver links and flowed down the rest of her to dance at her ankles.
Both were staring at him. The boy with menace, the girl with curiosity.
Not knowing what else to do, he waved.
Neither reacted.
“Aden,” Dan called. “Who’re you waving to? Let’s go.”
“But—” He turned, meaning to ask for a few more minutes. He had to know if the two were real. But Dan was motioning him to the truck, expression impatient in the hot, glaring sun. Shannon was already inside. Aden faced the line of trees in the distance once more, but the pair was gone. “Did you see them?” he whispered.
Who? Eve asked. The witch and the angry he-man?
They were real, then. He almost whooped in excitement. She was here. Finally she was here. Who was she? What was her name? What had brought her here? How had she found him? Why had she found him?
When would he see her again?
Elijah sighed. You know the bad feeling I got when you followed that girl last week? Well, I’ve got a worse feeling about these two. But yeah, I know where you’re going with this. She’s the one from the visions.
We’ve had visions of her? Where was I? Because day-um. It’s official, Caleb said. I’m hot.
Aden rolled his eyes.
“Aden,” Dan called. “I’m drowning in my own sweat. I said let’s go.”
There was still no sign of them in the trees. No hint of that black dress or a lock of hair blowing in the wind. Where had they gone? Why had they gone?
“Aden! Last chance before I leave without you.”
Though he wanted to stay, he forced himself to trudge to the truck, contenting himself with the knowledge that she would return. One day, they would kiss. Elijah had predicted her arrival, after all, and that had come true. The kiss would, as well. Aden’s lips lifted in a grin.
“What?” Dan asked him.
“Just excited,” he said, and it was the truth.
“About shopping? What a g-girl,” Shannon muttered.
He didn’t care. Nothing was going to ruin his good mood today.
They made the twenty-five minute drive to Tri City in silence. Aden used every second to try and piece together what had happened. Since the girl, his girl, and the boy were indeed real, truly here, that meant the girl had come to him while he’d been sick. She’d cared for him. Had wanted to talk to him, have him answer some questions.
She’d wanted to know how he … What had she said? Summoned her people? His brow furrowed. What people? He had summoned no one.
And what about the boy? Were they siblings? The two had looked nothing alike, but that didn’t mean anything. Were they only friends? Or were they together together? His hands fisted. Okay. Something could ruin his good mood.
Honey bear, I can feel how hard your brain is working, Eve said. You’re giving us a headache.
“I’m—” He barely stopped himself from apologizing out loud.
When Dan idled to a stop in front of the local supercenter, his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “You’ve got an hour, boys. Buy some clothes, some school supplies, but do not leave the building. I’m trusting you. If you’re not waiting for me when I return, bags in your hands, you’re out of the ranch. That’s the end. No excuses. Understand?”
Aden didn’t meet his gaze. He hadn’t been able to do so since that night in the field when he’d learned about Ms. Killerman.
“Understand?”
“Y-yeah,” Shannon mumbled as Aden said, “Yes.”
Dan handed them each a fifty-dollar bill. “All’s I’ve got. I hope you can make it work.”
“Th-thanks.” Shannon climbed out.
“Aden,” Dan said, stopping Aden when he tried to do the same. “Just so you know, you’re not going to class on Monday.”
His eyes widened. “What? Why?”
“Don’t worry. You’re going to the school, but you’ve got to do the placement tests before you can actually go to class. You’ll have results within an hour of turning in your work—computers are a wonderful thing—so we’ll know if you even qualify. Shannon took his last week, but you were too sick. I think you’ll pass, hence the shopping today so you’re all ready come Tuesday.”
He nodded, relieved that he still had a chance to attend public school but mad that it wasn’t already a done deal as he’d supposed. When he stepped onto the curb and shut the door behind him, he looked around. The place was packed but there was no sign of Shannon.
Would it have killed him to wait for you? Caleb griped.
As he shopped, his friends telling him what clothes would look good on him, he spotted the dreg a few times. Shannon flipped through the racks and pretended not to notice him.
“Like I wanted to spend time with you,” he muttered.
“Time with who?” someone asked.
He glanced up and saw that an older woman stood beside him. She had too-bright red hair that was sprayed in what looked to be a beehive. She wore a short-sleeved dress that was far too big. Her face, arms and legs seemed to … sparkle, as if she’d bathed in glitter. Weird.
That, he could deal with, though. It was the zaps of electricity seeming to pour off her, causing the fine hairs on his body to rise, that freaked him out. How was she doing that?
“No one,” he said, stepping away to increase the distance between them. He didn’t trust strangers. Even strangers who seemed as well-meaning as this one.
“Oh, posh. Something’s bothering you, and I’d love to hear what it is. I haven’t spoken to anyone in ages. Frankly, at this point I think I’d listen to a discussion about the mating habits of ants.”
Was she serious? “Lady, you’re creeping me out.”
There’s nothing wrong with honesty, Caleb said with a laugh.
A couple walking by glanced over at him as if he were insane. Okay, maybe there was something wrong with honesty.
“I’m sorry you’re creeped out,” the old woman said, and then continued her inane chatter. Not about ants, but about her son, his wife, their kids, and how she hadn’t gotten to tell them goodbye before they’d moved away from her. “Maybe you could, I don’t know, tell them goodbye for me.”