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Authors: Syrie James,Ryan M. James

BOOK: Forbidden
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Where did all that come from?
she wondered. Why was Alec
glowing
in her dream? Why had
she
been glowing?
What in the world did it mean?

She’d been so focused on Neil for the past two years that she hadn’t noticed any other boys, or considered that anyone else might like her. Neil was finally showing a hint of interest in her, but at the same time, here was this other gorgeous, intelligent boy with whom—she couldn’t deny it—she felt a genuine connection. Ever since their hug in the cafeteria, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Alec.

Claire knew she should be excited. But Alec was such an enigma. It’d be one thing if he was just a normal guy who was maybe a little secretive about some things. However, despite his protests to the contrary, something
definitely
was different about him, and no one could explain it away to her satisfaction. She had never seen anyone glow in real life, but after the way Alec had saved their lives on Friday, she was beginning to believe he was capable of it, and maybe a whole lot more. Whoever—or whatever—Alec was, he was sexy, powerful, brilliant, fascinating … and frightening … all at the same time.

Claire’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her door quietly opening. Her mother stood silhouetted in the doorway.

“You all right, honey?” her mom said. “I thought I heard you call out.”

“I just had a weird dream.”

Her mom crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside Claire, regarding her in the slice of light shining in from the hall. “What was your dream about?” she asked, brushing back Claire’s hair from her eyes.

Claire felt her cheeks grow warm. She sometimes told her mom about her dreams, but she didn’t want to share the details of this one. “I don’t remember much. Just that I was lost in a strange forest.”

“Well, you’re safe now.” Her mom hugged her tightly.

There she goes again
, Claire thought.
Always talking about being safe
.

Her mom’s voice broke as she continued, “All week, I’ve been so upset about that horrible, horrible accident. I keep thinking about how I almost lost you.”

Claire returned her mom’s intense hug. “I’m totally fine, Mom.”

Her mom sat back, wiping the corners of her eyes. “Are you? Are things okay at school?”

“They’re great,” Claire reassured her. “Even history is starting to look up. So many kids got low grades on that first paper that my teacher said it wouldn’t count. He devoted a whole class period to the basics of the analytic writing style that he wants, and how to avoid overwriting. I think I get it now.”

“I’m so glad.”

“How are things with you, Mom? You okay?”

“I am. More than okay, actually. Work is going great. And … well… I wasn’t sure whether or not to mention this, but—”

“What?”

Her mom took a breath, and despite the low light in the room, Claire thought she saw a blush creep up her cheeks. “I thought about what you said the other day. About me living like a nun. And how maybe it’s time for me to start … going out a little.”

Claire’s jaw dropped in surprise. “Did you meet somebody?”

“Yes. Well, sort of. It was at Peet’s Coffee Shop on Sunday. I was just leaving, and I forgot my laptop bag on the table. This handsome man came running after me to return it, and after I thanked him, we chatted for a few minutes. His name is Dennis and he was … nice.”

“Mom, this is major!” Claire cried, ecstatic. “Did he ask you out?”

“He asked me to meet him for coffee sometime and gave me his email address. I didn’t want to do anything, though, until I’d talked to you first, to see how you’d feel about it. All these years, it’s just been the two of us—I want to make sure you’re comfortable with the idea.”

“Of course I am! It’s just a coffee date, Mom. Say yes, for God’s sake! Go! Have a good time.”

“Thanks, honey. Maybe I will. Go back to sleep now.” She kissed Claire’s cheek, hugging her again, and then stood up and moved to the door. “I hope you have better dreams.”

“Good night, Mom.” Claire settled back beneath the covers, closing her eyes. She couldn’t stop smiling. It’d be great to see her mom have a boyfriend. Maybe she’d lighten up and let Claire date, too.

More importantly, it might keep them in L.A. a little longer.

“It’s Thursday, people,” Claire announced as she smashed the Ping-Pong ball across the table toward Brian. “Do you know what that means?”

“That tomorrow’s Friday?” Brian returned the ball with a swing of his good arm.

“Oh!” Erica gasped from her spot on the sidelines, clearly getting Claire’s meaning. “Thursday! Did you get your Spanish quiz back?”

“Yep.” The three of them were relaxing in the Student Life Center after school. Aside from them, the place was deserted.

“So how did Neil do?” Erica prodded.

Claire smiled proudly. “B minus.”

“Wow,” Erica noted. “That’s a
huge
improvement from what you saw.”

“When he gets here for your little study session,” Brian asked, “we don’t have to be all after-school-special, do we? With the thumbs-up and the encouraging grins?”

“Please, no. Just keep a low profile. I think Neil already feels self-conscious enough about the tutoring.”

As Brian nodded, Erica held up a Ping-Pong paddle like a microphone and quipped in her announcer voice, “Congratulations, Claire Brennan! You have proved, without a doubt, that the future is not set. And that the voices in your head are clearly aligned with the forces of good. Now, which man are you going to choose: Neil, your long-time crush, or Alec, an even more handsome and brilliant guy, who has a crush on
you
?”

Claire blushed. “I don’t want to choose anyone. At least not yet, until I get to know them both better.”

“Ah, a ménage à trois,” Erica mused. “That’s an interesting approach.”

“Erica!” Claire protested, her blush deepening in dismay.

Just then, Brian slammed the ball to the right corner. “Success! Yao beats Brennan, twenty-one to fifteen. One-handed, no less!”

“Oh, that was fair,” Claire grumbled, extending her hand for a conciliatory shake.

Brian stowed his paddle in his sling and reached out to accept, but then recoiled. “Whoa, CB, are you crazy? I’m not gonna have you spelunking through my psyche and foretelling my future.
No touching!

Claire sighed, retrieved the ball, and propped her paddle on it atop the table. “Great, now I’m a leper.”

“You’re not a leper,” Erica said, trying to be reassuring. “But I know what Brian means. I’d love to know what my future holds, if I could be sure it’d be
good
. But what if it isn’t? And the idea of you touching me and maybe seeing something through my perspective—
that’s
creepy. What if it’s something I’d rather keep secret?”

“Fine,” Claire muttered, tugging at the sleeves of her hoodie until they reached down to her fingertips. “I’ll keep my hands to myself from now on.”

“Good plan.” Brian turned to Erica and said in a humorous accent, “So, Miss Fischer, do you dare to challenge the Ping-Pong
Master
?”

Erica grinned cockily and took Claire’s place at the foot of the table. As the two began to play, Claire crossed to the activities bulletin board, which was littered with brightly colored sign-up sheets. Her attention was drawn to one entitled “Homecoming Assembly Entertainment Auditions.” She scanned the list of student names scrawled on it. There were some solo acts, some duets, and even some trios. Claire suddenly remembered Erica’s suggestion that Alec should try out, but his name wasn’t listed. She’d have to remind him about that. He had a great voice and deserved a chance to show it off.

That was when the vision hit.

Heat infused Claire’s body, and she began to tremble, her knees giving way beneath her. She fumbled dizzily onto the nearby couch and closed her eyes.
Why is this happening to me now?
she wondered, alarmed.

She heard Erica cry, “Oh my God, she’s having another one.”

Then Claire’s mind emptied of thought, replaced by an image—the same image she’d seen in that weird episode a week ago.

A shadowy figure stood surrounded by inky darkness, lit from behind by a bright yellow light. The face was indistinguishable, but an arm was stretched out toward Claire, beckoning, accompanied by a whispering voice
.

“Claire! Claire!” The voice was weathered and raspy, as if it required great effort to speak. The ensuing words were distorted and filled with gaps, like a radio transmitting on a bad frequency. But this time, Claire recognized a decidedly feminine timbre in the speaker’s voice, and a British accent, and she could understand more of the warning than before:

“You’re in danger … because of your special gift. Only … can protect and help you… Come to Twin Palms… Helena.”

It finished with the same eerie pronouncement: “Don’t tell anyone.”

Claire gasped aloud, her eyes blinking open as the voice and image disappeared from her mind. Her heart pounded with anxiety as she struggled to ground herself in reality once again. Brian and Erica stood over her with confounded expressions.

“Wow. Was that what I think it was?” Brian asked.

“What did you see?” Erica cried, excited.

Claire mopped the sweat from her brow with a shirt-sleeve. Should she answer? It was the second time she’d been told not to tell anyone. But they both already knew! And she desperately needed their help to figure this out. “It was that same weird vision again with the raspy voice, the one I got last week in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, the one that told you to help Neil,” Erica said.

“I think I was wrong about that.” Claire shook her head slowly. “I heard more words this time—it was definitely a woman, and I think she was trying to tell me that
I’m
the one who needs help.”

“You? Why do you think that?” Brian asked.

“She started off saying, ‘You’re in danger … because of your special gift.’ Then it cut out again, but I caught: ‘can protect and help you.’”

“Wait a minute. I thought this gift of yours was all about touch,” Erica said. “What did you touch?”

“Nothing. I was just standing here.”

Brian pursed his lips, thinking. “When you had this vision before, were you touching anything or anyone?”

“No.”

“So it was a female voice that said the exact same thing as before, only more clearly?” Brian asked.

Claire nodded.

“Maybe it’s Claire’s own subconscious that’s warning her,” Erica suggested.

“I doubt it,” Claire replied. “The voice had a British accent.”


Interesting
,” Brian mused. “Claire, I think you’ve got two different psychic phenomena going on here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think the visions you get when you touch people or things are one type. But this one’s not a vision at all. It’s a
message
.”

“A message?” Claire repeated, intrigued.

“Yeah, like that alien signal in
Contact
,” Brian continued. “A repeated warning, sent from somewhere else,
by someone else
.”

“He could be right,” Erica exclaimed. “You’re seeing a figure talking
to you
, instead of being inside someone’s body.”

“Oh—that’s true.” Claire shook her head, puzzled. “But who is it? Why is she sending the message? Why does she want to help me, of all people?”

“Good question.” Brian scratched his head.

“And
what
is she warning me about? What could I possibly be in danger from? Death by meteor? Am I going to be hit by a bus? Do I have a brain tumor?”

“You’re joking, but I’m deadly serious, Claire,” Brian said. “If you’re really in danger because you’re psychic and there’s someone who can help or protect you, we’d better find out who it is.”

“And
fast
,” Erica added, frowning with newfound worry.

Fear sparked through Claire’s veins. “You’re right. But how are we going to do that?”

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