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“Yes, but – ”
“Then stop complaining.” I glance towards the house. “I should go make sure Dad hasn’t fallen asleep on the sofa again.”
He leans forward to kiss me. “Can I come by tomorrow?”
“I’ll think about it,” I tease, before jumping out of the car.
I wish he’d relax; I’m not the one in trouble. I chain the gate and put on a padlock before hurrying up the driveway. I’m concerned about Kelly. Instead of graduating from bad boys with trust funds to bad boys with powers, she should find someone trustworthy and loyal. But I guess not everyone can be as lucky as me.
***
“Kelly’s fine,” says Lebz with a sigh. She’s sprawled across my bed, while I’m in the chair at my desk. “I went over this morning to check on her.”
I turn away from my game of Spider Solitaire. “What did she say?”
Lebz makes a face. “She said she drank too much.”
“Hmm. Nothing about her boyfriend leaving her passed out in a storeroom?”
She shakes her head, making her ridiculous dangly earrings jingle. “Maybe she asked him to leave because she was embarrassed about being so drunk.”
I snort – Kelly doesn’t get embarrassed, not even when she should.
“Anyway, Spencer was really drunk, too,” adds Lebz.
He did look rather wasted. Maybe that was why his buddies were so unimpressed, and why they got him out of there in such a hurry. I have to admit, it does look like a simple case of overindulgence. Except for one thing. I turn my chair to face Lebz. “If Kelly wasn’t in danger, why did I have that premonition?”
Lebz props herself up on her elbows and looks at me. “Maybe it was because Amantle and I were worried. You know sometimes your premonitions are triggered by other people’s emotions.”
I shake my head. “I sensed that she was in danger. Something’s not adding up.”
“Well, if something happened, Kelly’s not telling.” She sits up. “As long as she’s OK, I’m happy.”
“Get me Spencer’s number.”
Lebz blinks. I raise an eyebrow at her.
“No,” she says firmly. “I don’t want to piss Kelly off.”
I roll my eyes. Sometimes my best friend can be supremely naïve. “She doesn’t have to know. Just make some excuse to see her phone, go through her contacts, and get the number. Easy.”
She swallows hard, unease coming off her in waves. As much as she wants to find out whether her beloved Kelly is in danger, she’s not eager to get involved in another supernatural battle. Lebz likes to keep her feet on the ground, in expensive shoes, and far away from things that might give her nightmares.
“It was your idea for me to investigate,” I remind her mercilessly.
“I know,” she mutters. “I’ll see what I can do.”
***
During the week, Rakwena and I go to Game City to watch an afternoon movie. We don’t do a lot of normal date stuff like other couples, but I like that about us. I wouldn’t have said that a year ago, when I was doing everything I could to pretend I was normal. That was before I became a telepath, before Rakwena. Now normal is a sad little dream I’ve finally woken up from.
I want to watch a thriller, Rakwena wants to watch a political drama, so we settle on a comedy. It’s not bad – the parts we actually watch, that is. Rakwena tries not to laugh out loud while I sift through the thoughts of the guy sitting two rows in front of us. I know I shouldn’t, but the poor man seems to have a mini heart attack every time the pretty female lead makes an appearance.
When the film is over, Rakwena wraps his arm around my shoulder as we leave the cinema. I push him away self-consciously. I’m not one for public displays of affection. Instead of being offended, he laughs and ruffles my hair. The heel of his palm brushes the top of my ear, and I feel the tingle all the way to my toes.
“Coward,” he whispers.
“And proud of it.”
The retort I expected never comes. Rakwena stiffens beside me. I turn to see the cause of his discomfort. The Cresta Crew are sitting at a table at KFC, all six pairs of eyes trained on us. Honestly, didn’t anyone teach them that staring is bad manners? I wave to ease the tension, but not one of them responds – not even sweet little Duma. That’s when I realise that they can’t even see me. All their attention is on Rakwena. I look up at him. His jaw twitches as he wrenches his gaze away from them.
“Let’s get out of here,” he suggests, through gritted teeth.
“Wait. This might be my best chance to talk to them.” I start towards the fast food outlet and Rakwena’s hand closes fiercely over my arm like a Venus flytrap over its prey. I wince. “Hey, that hurts.”
“You’re not talking to them,” he hisses, pulling me away. “We’re leaving. Now.”
“Hey! Let go!” I try to pull my arm away, but Rakwena is the strongest boy I know. “Rakwena! You’re hurting me!”
He drops my arm instantly. “Sorry. But you’re being so… Please, let’s just go. I’m starving.” His voice turns coaxing. “I’ll make us dinner.”
I stare at him, rubbing my sore forearm. “You know, this Jekyll and Hyde thing you’ve got going on is really starting to get to me. What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing, I just want to go home.” He keeps his eyes on my face, almost as though he’s afraid to look in the Cresta Crew’s direction.
“It’s not nothing,” I persist. “You paid someone to keep me away from them at the party, and now you’re acting crazy. Why are you so worried about these guys?”
“Because they’re obviously dangerous,” he blurts out.
“Obviously?”
“Yes. And they’re taking too much interest in you. They’re suspicious.” He lets out an exasperated groan. “You promised to stay out of trouble!”
“Ja, well, I’m un-promising. If you’re so concerned, you can wait here.” I start towards the boys again, and again Rakwena grabs me, this time almost pulling my arm out of its socket. “Ow!”
“Connie, please.” His eyes are bright and pleading. “What if they try something?”
“In the middle of a mall full of people?” I snap. “We’re going to talk about this, but right now I’m going over there, and I swear, if you try to stop me, I will scream this whole place down. Got it?”
I stalk off, furious with him. My whole arm is aching. What on earth is the matter with that boy? I glance over my shoulder, expecting to see him standing there glowering at me, but the space where he stood is empty. I catch sight of him walking – no, practically running – away, fists clenched. He’s angry, too. From this distance I can’t tell if he’s giving off blue light, but it’s a good thing he’s getting out of sight before he sparks up.
I take a deep breath and turn back to the Cresta Crew. They’re frozen in their seats, glaring at me, almost daring me to take another step. They’ll soon learn that I don’t scare that easily.
By the time I reach their table their expressions have changed. The twins look incredulous. Spencer looks surly. Duma looks nervous, Rapunzel impressed and Hulk…well, like he wants to smash something. All of them are giving off high energy levels and blocking me as though they were born doing it. I finally have my confirmation – they’re all gifted, and I’m not talking about a little sliver of sixth sense. Whatever their gifts, they’re powerful.
I offer them a bright smile. “Hello, gentlemen. I’m Connie. But you already know that. Want to tell me why you’re staring at my boyfriend?”
No one says a word. A few of the others glance at Hulk. I see – there’s a hierarchy at work. Hulk takes a long, languid sip of his Coke.
“Should I pull up a chair, make myself comfortable? We have a lot to discuss.”
He looks at me. His eyes are clear and intelligent…and dangerous. Suddenly I’m all too aware of his size and proximity. Big and close enough to knock my brains out, to be precise. “Afternoon, Conyza.” His voice is like black crushed velvet, soft and thick. Not at all the voice of someone who intends to squash me flat. “It’s good to finally meet you. Duma hasn’t stopped talking about you since the party.”
“Really?” I glance at the kid, and he flashes his adorable grin. “Where did I get the idea that you guys weren’t exactly thrilled to see him talking to me?”
Hulk shrugs. “We keep to ourselves. You understand.”
“Yes, I do.” Curiosity is mounting, but Hulk gives me the impression that his patience has limits, and I’d rather not be there when it runs out. “You know my name. It’s only fair to tell me yours.”
His gaze is steady and unblinking. “You can call me Temper.”
Somehow that doesn’t put me at ease. “Right. Nice to meet you, Temper.” I wait for the others to tell me their names, but they remain silent. No one’s eating, either – it seems I’ve put them off their food.
“There’s something on your mind,” Temper muses.
I look at Spencer. His handsome face is marred by a sullen, brutish scowl, as though he’s had his toys confiscated. I drop my voice to a whisper. “Look, let’s not mince words, OK? I know you’re gifted, and that’s not a problem for me. My problems are your interest in Rakwena, and your boy’s relationship with Kelly.”
Spencer lets out a choked laugh of incredulity. “And who the hell do you think you are to tell me what to do?” The outburst makes the others flinch.
“Man, chill,” whispers Rapunzel, who is sitting on Spencer’s left.
“No, she has no right to come over here and start throwing her weight around!” His gaze is so venomous I take a step back and hold up my hands to ward him off.
“Hey, I’m just worried about Kelly.”
“You don’t even like Kelly,” he spits out. How the hell does he know that?
“That’s enough.” Temper glares at Spencer.
But it’s too late. I’ve seen enough to make me certain that Spencer is a ticking bomb, and if he stays with Kelly he’s going to decimate her. I turn to Temper. “I don’t know what your story is yet, but I’ll find out. In the meantime, I suggest you keep this guy away from ungifted girls before somebody gets hurt. Is that clear?” I turn back to Spencer, who’s snarling at me. “Stay away from Kelly. I’ve gone up against bigger fish than you, so don’t think your little temper tantrums scare me.”
He leaps to his feet. Suddenly he doesn’t look so handsome anymore. “Back off, bitch!”
Whoa! My jaw drops. I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that before. What follows happens so smoothly it almost seems rehearsed. Rapunzel and Elias get to their feet in one fluid motion, and march Spencer out of the restaurant. Simultaneously Duma and the remaining twin pack up what’s left of the food, sweeping it into bags so fast their hands seem to blur, then follow the others.
In seconds the table is clear, the curious onlookers from other tables have returned to their conversations and Temper is the only Cresta Crew member left.
“What the hell was that?” I demand. “Spencer clearly has issues and has no business dating anyone, let alone an ungifted!”
“You’ve made your point,” Temper growls. Ah. His patience has reached its limit. He gets to his feet and walks away.
Because I have absolutely no instinct for self-preservation, I follow. “Hey! What happened just now? And you still haven’t told me why you were staring at my boyfriend. You owe me an explanation!”
“I owe you nothing.” He whirls around to face me. He’s so big I have to crane my neck to look into his eyes.
I gulp, and my words vanish. “I…uh…just…Kelly…” I take a deep breath. “Spencer’s dangerous.”
“Not as dangerous as me,” he whispers, and turns away, leaving me standing on wobbly legs.
I wait till he’s out of sight before walking to Rakwena’s car. My head is swimming. I don’t know why Spencer erupted the way he did, but there is nothing more dangerous than a gifted without self-control. What happens if he loses his temper with Kelly and hurts her? Hell, even without gifts that boy is scary, and I get the feeling Temper knows this. Why is he allowing Spencer to keep seeing Kelly? He’s clearly the leader of the group – he should stop it.
When I reach the car, I quickly realise I have another problem on my hands. Rakwena is sitting in the driver’s seat, hands gripping the steering wheel. His head is bowed and blue sparks are crackling on his knuckles. He looks like he’s in pain.
“Rakwena?” I climb into the passenger seat and put my hands over his. “Ow! You’re burning up!”
He raises his head and grimaces. “It’s just a headache. It happens sometimes, when my girlfriend won’t listen to reason.” He shakes off my hands and starts the engine.
I roll my eyes, annoyed. “Are we still having this argument? I’m fine, as you can see. They didn’t kill me. Not for lack of trying,” I add wryly.
“What?” He stares at me in horror.
I reach over to buckle my seatbelt. “I told Spencer to leave Kelly alone and he lost it. Called me a bitch. Can you believe that? Then they all got up and left. Didn’t want to make a scene, I guess. But now I know for sure they’re gifted, and that Spencer is trouble. I have to find out more.”
The car jerks forward. “Damn it, Connie!”
“Sorry, but I’m not dropping this.”
He doesn’t say another word, but his jaw is still twitching and his knuckles still give off the occasional spark. I glance out of the window, and my heart stops. The Cresta Crew are standing in front of a white family minivan, watching us. Even when we’re out of sight, I get the feeling they’re still watching through a different set of eyes. Eyes that see things that I can’t. Eyes that see around corners, through walls…across borders. Eyes that led them here, to us.
It’s a crazy thought, and I don’t know where it came from. Those boys didn’t come here for me or Rakwena – why would they? I try to focus on the road, on keeping an eye on Rakwena’s fading sparks, but thoughts are resilient. Once the seed is planted, it just sits there quietly in the dark and grows.
Chapter Four (#ulink_6b9b56ac-96e0-5f80-8eca-215ee87c248b)
The weekend sneaks up on me. I’m surprised how quickly time has passed. I’ve barely seen my father all week, and my grandfather is still away. I spend Friday afternoon watching Lebz blow her father’s money on make-up and magazines.
“I need help,” I announce.
“Man trouble?” She wriggles her eyebrows suggestively.
“Yes. But not the man you’re thinking of. Dad and Ntatemogolo.”
“Oh.” Her disappointment is palpable. I almost laugh; I’ve deprived her of the joy of giving me relationship advice. “I thought we agreed that a peace treaty is impossible.”
“I don’t need them to make peace.” I pick up a jar of body butter and sniff it. “I just need them to work together on the Salinger project.”
“Isn’t your dad getting a research assistant?” Lebz tosses several bottles of nail polish into her rapidly filling shopping basket.
“Yes, but he’s supposed to work with an expert. He’ll end up getting someone else, and that would be a wasted opportunity. Don’t you see? This is the hand of fate at work – a perfect chance for them to finally learn to work together!”
Lebz looks dubious. “How are you going to get them to do it?”
“That’s where the help comes in,” I sigh.
“Oh, I have an idea!” she cries suddenly. “Pretend you’re going to live with Rakwena if they don’t make peace. Rita got Papa to let her go to Jamaica by threatening to move out. She cried, said he’s never home, and accused him of loving me more.”
I’m not surprised by her big sister’s antics – when people use the term “capable of anything” they mean Rita. “And how does a trip to Jamaica prove that he loves her?”
Lebz shrugs. “You know Rita – she could convince a pastor to rob a bank.”
