Designed with a Destiny (14 page)

“Um, Alisha, I brought someone back with us
that is willing to help us find all of our family members,” Cat
says, stepping aside to introduce Zane. I have to hand it to the
guy, he’s walked into a lion’s den and you’d never know it by the
way he maintains his composure, stepping forward confidently with
an extended hand. I gently pull Cat out of their path predicting a
much different reaction from Alisha than with Claire or Lawrence.
Alisha has the strength of two grown men, a temper hotter than
lava, and Zane has messed with the thing she cherishes the most—her
family.

“I’m Zane Harrington,” he says, after taking
a deep breath. A hush falls upon the room, as her face morphs from
confusion to recognition, then surprise and finally fury, as she
realizes who he is. She looks as if she might spit on his hand
instead of shake it.
Prepare to be crucified buddy,
I think
to myself smugly. Surprisingly, it’s Lawrence who quickly comes to
his aid, not giving her the chance to demonstrate the genetic
enhancements that he himself helped design. Disappointing as
hell.

“Alisha, look at his color screening.
There’s always a bigger picture to consider in every situation.
It’s all an energy game—love, forgiveness, and peace in every
situation sustains a faster vibration. A faster, higher vibration
is what gives you the powers of the mind. If you want to preserve
your powers, you must choose the emotion that corresponds with
keeping a higher vibrational energy. These aren’t my rules, these
are universal laws, and they work the same for everybody—do you
understand?” Lawrence’s speech, although given to Alisha is clearly
meant for all of us.

“Well then—I guess I have quite a dilemma on
my hands because as much as I would like to retain my Designer
powers, I’m not feeling the love and forgiveness right now,” she
quips, turning her back on Zane, who drops his hand awkwardly by
his side.

“
Bravo Ali.”
Inwardly I laugh, and
wonder if amusement can counteract the negative energy effects of
anti-forgiveness. After all, if it’s just an energy game then it
shouldn’t make a difference how I maintain my sense of happiness;
spending time with Cat, a jog in the park, or watching Zane
Harrington fall flat on his face—it’s all good as far as I’m
concerned.

Lawrence glances at Cat and there’s a
recognizable exchange of telepathic conversation between the two
before she walks over and puts her arm around Alisha, coaxing her
over to the couch where they sit quietly talking. I get the gist of
what’s happening, not by the generic dialogue they’re having about
Claire, but by the concentration of white energy particles around
Cat’s hand as it rests on Alisha’s arm. She’s been commissioned by
Lawrence to influence Alisha’s feeling’s about Zane, and the longer
I watch, the more irritated I become. To me, it seems a gross
injustice to cheat someone out of experiencing their truest
feelings just to motivate a different outcome that suits a higher
purpose. When Alisha tentatively approaches Zane mumbling a feeble
apology for her behavior, I feel compelled to get up and leave the
room.

***

“You must be ecstatic to have Cataryn home
again,” Bernie says, coming up beside me as I cool down on the back
deck. I smile but don’t feel the need to respond to the obvious,
thereby giving her permission to bypass the conspicuous
conversation starter.

“It can’t be easy being around the man
that’s responsible for taking her,” she tries again, shifting
uncomfortably as we lean over the deck rail and gaze across the
moon illuminated yard.

“Okay Bernie, what is it that you came out
here to tell me?” I sigh. It’s not like her to beat around the bush
and I’m in no mood for idle chitchat. It’s a win-win for both of us
to cut to the chase. She smiles appreciatively.

“Lawrence is right, resentment and hatred
takes its toll on the human spirit. No one knows this better than
me.” She reaches up and unties the characteristic silk scarf from
around her neck, pulling it away as she tilts her head back giving
me full view of the scar that runs from the base of her throat to
almost her ear.

“I was twenty-five years old when I was
brutally attacked by a man that would later be convicted and
sentenced to death for the murders of several women before me. I
was the only one to survive and was a key witness in his trial
which took almost three years and another ten before he was
executed. During this time, I remained faithfully loyal to my
justified hatred of Justin Chambers, which only resulted in
multiple hospitalizations for stress related illnesses that nearly
took my life. Ten days before his execution I finally went to
confront him in prison to ask the one question every victim wants
to know—why? Do you know what he said?” she asks, looking up at me
with a serious expression as she re-ties the scarf in a trendy knot
around her neck.

“No idea.”

“He said, because I wanted to be seen and
heard,” she says softly.

“And this relates to me how?” I ask, not
deliberately trying to be a smart ass, but genuinely interested in
the correlation. She smiles anyway.

“His words made me realize a sort of
universal truth—that people only hurt others when they themselves
are in pain. So, do you know what I did? I sat down and listened to
him. He talked for four hours that day, and three to four hours
every day after, until he was eventually executed for his crimes.
And guess what happened?” she asks, pausing for only a second.

“We both healed.” She pats me on the
shoulder and leaves me to privately mull over her story, wondering
what kind of pain Zane Harrington could have possibly endured to
motivate the kind of criminal activity he’s committed against
innocent people, and more importantly whether or not I have the
ability like her to rise above my contempt to care enough to find
out.

The house is strangely quiet when I return
from my time expended deep in the forest surrendering to the
practice of what Lawrence refers to as nature breathing; the act of
pulling in the natural vibrational frequency of the forest to
restore and balance my own. It was the only thing I could think of
to help me neutralize my bitter attitude towards Zane, and like
most of what Lawrence proposes—it works—to a certain extent.

Cat is the only one left still awake in the
great room. She’s curled up on the sofa with a sleeping Claire
cradled in her lap, gently running her fingers through the tangled
blonde locks, and studying her face with the adoration typically
seen in the eyes of a parent, not a sibling. She smiles approvingly
when she sees me, reading my mood by the color of energy that’s a
shade lighter than when I left.

“
Sorry I kept you up so long—did everyone
go to bed?”
I ask feeling guilty when I see her yawn.

“
Yes—but Claire insisted on staying up
with me to wait for you. I promised her she could sleep in our room
on the floor tonight—is that okay?”

“That’s why we stayed in a hotel last
night,” I whisper, smiling fondly at the memory as I lean down to
kiss her before taking Claire from her, and heading upstairs. I
couldn’t really blame Claire—, even I had to fight back the urge to
not let her out of my sight. Thankfully the kid can sleep through
anything and barely budges when we tuck her into the horse themed
sleeping bag on the floor next to Cat’s side of the bed. The
wedding photo on the dresser catches Cat’s eye and she looks at me
quizzically. “Elizabeth had it framed. The rest of the photos are
in the envelope—I haven’t looked at them yet,” I respond to her
unspoken questions. She quietly studies the picture, and I can tell
she has something on her mind.

“Claire and I worked on Elizabeth while you
were gone, you know. There was a blockage of energy around her
heart which kept the virus from being completely cleared out of her
system by Claire. Lawrence says the trapped negative energy is the
direct result of bottled up resentment and anger, and had I not
been able to nullify it, Liz wouldn’t be able to make a full
recovery,” she says, carefully replacing the picture frame, and
looking up at me with a troubled rather than boasting expression.
We lock eyes as I wait for her to continue. “I know it bothered you
that I influenced Alisha’s emotional response towards Zane and I
wish I knew why,” she blurts out, biting her lower lip, as she
nervously anticipates my feedback. Her vulnerable attitude
regarding my opinion makes me go soft inside and the harsh lecture
I had planned is instantly replaced with a more honest and raw
reaction.

“When I thought you were gone, I grieved in
a way I never dreamed possible. I took off and left Claire with the
others while I went on a two week drinking binge that nearly killed
my color screening. I’m not proud of my actions—but looking back
I’m glad I had to work through the pain on my own—it’s the hardest
thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.” Her expression relaxes and
she smiles sadly. “Cat, feelings and emotions are the most genuine,
authentic thing about us—everything else has been genetically
modified to make life easy. I know you mean well, but it doesn’t
sit right with me to have you rob us of those experiences. Alisha
should be allowed to be angry with Harrington—he’s cost her
everything.” She swallows hard, accepting the criticism but as I’ll
soon find out, not without a valid rebuttal.

“My brother’s life is at stake more than
ever right now. I don’t have the time to sit around and wait for
you and Alisha to work through your anger issues with Zane. Your
negative energy will spread like cancer through the group,
weakening our powers. When this is over, I promise to honor your
request to not interfere with people’s emotions, at least the
Designers, but for now, I’m going to use my gifts in whatever way I
can to give us the best advantage for rescuing our families.” Her
eyes fill with tears and she blinks hard, looking away from me as
she softly mumbles, “I could really use your support.”

***

“What the hell is taking Natalie so long?”
Alisha murmurs, tapping her pen impatiently against her hand as she
leans against the dining room fireplace ready to lead the meeting
outlining the plan to find Chord and the rest of our family
members. She looks at Austin, silently petitioning him to make a
another telepathic call to his sister who made an early morning run
into town and should have been back thirty minutes ago. He’s the
only one she doesn’t routinely block from mental communication, but
he’s also the one she gives the worst time to when he bothers her.
He cringes and replies out loud, “She hates it when I bug her.” To
his relief, a car pulls into the driveway just as Alisha is about
to give him a reason to fear her more. Everyone, including
Elizabeth is crammed into the dining room, which is more like a
mini dining hall in the Freeman house, but nonetheless small for a
crowd this size. Cat sits next to me, with Claire on her lap, and
next to her is Liz, whom according to Jason is suddenly recovering
remarkably well. Even so, she looks frail and I worry about her
participating in what could be our most dangerous mission yet. It
was Alisha’s decision to include everyone. She’s worried that
anyone left behind without Designer protection will be at risk, so
even Bernie, Lawrence and Jason will accompany us on this rescue
attempt. I catch Zane out of the corner of my eye, staring at
Elizabeth again, and if it weren’t for last night’s promise to Cat
to leave him alone, I would throw him out of the room. He hasn’t
stopped gawking at her since being introduced over an hour ago, and
while I’m glad it’s not Cat he’s eyeing, I still feel the need to
safeguard her from the man. Liz must sense his attraction to her as
well, because she glances back at him, smiling politely. When she
looks back my way, I catch her unsettled look, and her wide violet
eyes full of confusion speak volumes to the effect his interest is
having on her.

“I could use some help with the groceries!”
Natalie hollers through the garage door. When nobody readily jumps
up, Zane standing closest to the dining room door automatically
leaves to help. Natalie was absent when we arrived last night and
apparently no one bothered to tell her about Harrington.

“Who are you?” we hear her ask with an edge
of suspicion in her voice. He clears his throat and hesitates
briefly before introducing himself. It’s a common reaction from
almost anyone meeting her for the first time. Out of all the
Designers, she seems to have the right combination of cosmetic
features to make people stop and stare, and apparently the arrogant
Brit is no exception.

“My name is Zane Harrington—I came in with
the others late last night.”

“Harrington—as in kidnapper, extortionist,
and terrorist?”

“Well, that all depends on how you look at
it. I…”

“Alisha—somebody!” she screams, interrupting
him. “My aim is dead on buddy—don’t you dare come near me unless
you want your brain tissue mixed with spaghetti sauce.” Her threat
makes me laugh out loud, and Cat nudges me in the side reminding me
of last night’s agreement.

“It’s okay Natalie. We’re in the dining
room!” Alisha calls out, intervening to save Zane the disgrace of
getting his ass whipped by a Designer Ninja. “Can you please help
them get the groceries unpacked so we can get started,” she pleads,
looking at Austin, the only one not already seated. He’s good
natured about being her gofer boy, and leaps over the back of Liz’s
chair like a kangaroo, disappearing through the same door as
Zane.

***

The sophisticated mapping software used by
Zane to track the GPS device placed on the aircraft used by his
father, shows that it made two stops before leaving the United
States. The first is a place we’re all too familiar with and I
easily remote travel to St. Marie outside of Glasgow, performing a
cursory search of the abandoned Air Force Base which as expected
turns up nothing. Their second stop surprises everyone except
Zane.