Legacy (16 page)

I rolled my eyes. Geez. Did I actually just think the word “thrust?”

How…Freudian.

Another wave of dirty thoughts from a stranger hit me and I gagged on the coffee I’d sipped. No wonder Ann had quit. Without Trevor, I’m sure I’d have overloaded months ago.

I squeezed my eyes shut but the Belinda porn continued. She must be getting visitors out at her little trailer in the woods. But why would she bother giving these guys these memories? What could they offer her? They knew what she was and how she worked, didn’t they? Would they actually pay her for fake memories? Did she thrive on their lust or something? Was she running a fake sex charity? Whatever the reason, the images had killed my appetite and made me itch to blast someone. I took my coffee and started to go.

I ran into Rachel at the front door. Orange flashes of nervous energy electrified her and her face seemed vampire pale. She looked like she was about to be sick.

Oh.

The Belinda stuff suddenly faded into inconsequence.

What time are your parents arriving?

“In about nine minutes.” She bit her lip. She saw them in her mind. They were near the turnoff in North Conway.

Need some company?

She nodded. We sat in two of the mismatched rocking chairs that littered the wide front porch of the main building. Rachel’s thoughts jumped around her head like hyperactive children in a moon bounce. Nausea pressed up within her.

Good thing I didn’t eat anything.

“Maddie? Can you, just...”
talk
“…um, tell me some things? Anything? Just distract me?”

The first two things that came to mind—Trevor’s loss and the weirdness with Belinda—didn’t seem to be the soothing topics Rachel needed.

What do you want to hear about?

“Well, how about your family?”

You’ve met my family. My mom’s the only family I have.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about family recently.”

That makes sense. Okay, my dad died in a car accident when I was four. My mom’s parents…well, before she was born, doctors told them that they’d never be able to have children. They were both over forty when they had their little “miracle baby,” as they always called her. Both of them died when I was six, within three months of one another. I suppose we have some distant relatives on that side, somewhere. We’ve never been close to any of them, though.

“And your dad’s side? After…after he died, did you have any contact with his family?”

I paused for a moment, feeling the tendrils of concern running through Rachel—and finally understood why she asked.
His mother, my Gramma Dunn, was my favorite grandparent. I probably shouldn’t have had a favorite, but I really did. She treated me like I was older than I was—talked to me like a person and not a kid, you know? She died three years ago. I still miss her.

Rachel stared at the disappearing end of the driveway, but the view didn’t register. What did she need me to say?

You know, Sean’s parents aren’t the only McFees. Most of them are really big on this whole extended-family-takes-care-of-our-own thing. Your kid’s gonna be part of the pack of red-haired fire-giants.

She smiled at that.

Hey, once you tell your parents, go find Drew. Let him know he’s going to be an uncle.

“Sean was his cousin, not his brother.”

Most of the McFee “uncles” are cousins of some once-removed variety. Let Drew and his mom bring you into the McFee family if Sean’s parents won’t do it.

Rachel’s ambivalence pulled at her as her desire for privacy conflicted with the fact that she wanted a connection to Sean’s family for her child. She hoped her baby would be a part of something larger—a family, a community.

I gave a little laugh at that.
It takes a village to raise a G-positive child?

She drew in a tense breath. “Especially this one.” Cold tendrils of apprehension shot through her. “Matilda’s worried about what dodecamine exposure might’ve done to him.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve had three boosters since Sean died. The last one was less than two weeks ago.”

I didn’t mention that I already knew the risk.
What does Matilda think will happen?

“It might affect how his basal ganglia develops. He might develop a new and different ability, or he might have more than one. Or he might have brain damage that causes seizures or mental retardation.” She bit her lip.

Or he could be a perfectly healthy kid who’ll someday set things on fire with his mind.

She laughed. “I guess wanting something ‘normal’ for this baby is asking too much.”

Or too little. C’mon, your kid is going to be fine. Even if he’s not “typical,” he—or she—is going to be loved.…cared for…spoiled rotten.

“But if he has brain damage—”

We’ll find a way to cope. It’s not so bad.

She suddenly flushed with embarrassment, worried that she’d insulted me. “Maddie, I didn’t mean—”

I shook off her concern.
Not a problem. The fact that you forgot is simply proof that we can adjust to this sort of thing.

“I just don’t notice that the way you speak is all that different, anymore.”

Thanks.

I felt the touch of two new minds coming up the driveway. I didn’t need to say anything—Rachel had them glowing at the end of her little golden thread. She stood up, still biting her lip.

You want some privacy to talk to them?

“Stay. I mean, if you don’t mind…”

Do you want to know what they’re thinking, or should I shut up?

“I don’t know,” she admitted. Her stomach heaved like a ship caught in a storm.

If you need me to do anything, just think it to me, okay?

She nodded in a quick, bird-like motion. Her eyes stayed fixed on her approaching parents. She paradoxically felt relieved that they’d arrived safely—finally out of Isaiah’s reach—but she also viewed their approach like that of her own firing squad.

I knew the Fontaines had first met when they’d worked on Project Star Gate. They still lived near Washington, D.C.—Rachel had watched Isaiah intensely whenever he’d headed in that direction. Noah was an RV like his brother Charlie had been, and the resemblance between these two large, heavy-set, and balding men was strong. Paula was a healer. She had her blonde hair cut matronly short and was plump without being unattractively heavy. Neither used dodecamine to enhance their abilities anymore, although both had been early recipients of the treatment. Since they’d both been adults when they’d first started dodecamine, their abilities had never been great—more party-trick level than superhero ability—but they’d been part of Ganzfield since its founding.

They parked around the side of the boys’ dorm
. Look at all of the cars here,
thought Rachel’s mom.
I’ve never seen Ganzfield so full.
True enough. The place normally housed about eighty people. We now had more than two hundred.

Paula enveloped Rachel in a huge embrace.
Rachel seems to be coming out of her grief. Good. I’ve been so worried. And something about her feels…different.

Hi.

Both of them startled at my voice in their heads.
Oh! She can project thoughts like Jon!

Rachel mentioned her before, but why is she here now?

We pulled up chairs. Rachel opened and closed her mouth a few times, willing something to come out. Nothing did.

“Are you okay, honey?” Her mom put a hand on her arm. “What is it?”

Rachel flushed bright red as she realized and experienced the full horror of the moment. “Mom, Dad, I—” Her voice broke as her parents leaned in closer. Concern lined their faces.

Help!
she thought at me.

Just say it. It’ll be easier once you get those first words out.

“I’m—I’m pregnant.”

Cold shock splashed through both Paula and Noah.

Oh, no. No, no, no.
Paula’s feelings twisted with an aching purple.

WHAT?
Noah’s face flushed as his rage pummeled his feelings of shame and concern into submission.
I’ll kill him!

I looked at him sharply.
Don’t say that to her. You know Sean’s already dead.

His eyes filled with a challenge. “How is this your business?” Heated emotion churned in him like boiling water. I had a brief flash of a cartoon guy with steam coming out of his ears. I’d never seen the real-life equivalent before.

I kept his gaze.
Rachel’s my friend and she’s been through a lot. This is tough for her. Don’t make it harder. Don’t say something hurtful right now.

Paula started crying.
Oh, my poor baby!
She pulled Rachel into another hug.

Her dad felt like he was about to explode—crimson energy enveloped him. When he looked at Rachel, his soul seemed darkly bruised. There was a male pride—a protectiveness toward his only daughter—that had been violated.

Sean loved her. He would’ve done the right thing
. As soon as I told him that, I wondered if it was true. Despite being the same chronological age as Sean, I felt so much older. He’d been infatuated with Rachel, but he’d been so immature. I didn’t know if he could’ve been responsible enough to be a good father.

Still, at this point, it didn’t hurt anyone to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Rachel and her mom cried and held onto each other. The emotions flowing off the two of them would’ve oversaturated a
Lifetime
movie.

Noah looked at the two of them, and then pulled his hands down his face, as though he could scrub off the excess emotion. His eyes fell back on me.

“Is she—? I mean, we’re Catholic, so—” he didn’t know how to put it.

She’s keeping the baby
.

“How is she going to…I mean, college…and the cost of raising a child. She’s only seventeen.”

It’s covered.

“It’s covered?” He raised an incredulous eyebrow.
That’s hundreds of thousands of dollars. I seriously doubt this girl understands the financial reality of the situation.

I know what kind of numbers I’m talking about. Either Ganzfield will take care of it, or I will
. Mental note: get Nick Coleman to set up a trust for the baby. Being at the top of Isaiah’s hit list and all—well, I probably shouldn’t put that sort of thing off.

“What’s it to you?”

I smiled.
Think of me as your grandchild’s fairy god-minder.

Noah gave a dismissive scoff. The word “grandchild” floated around his mind, searching for a place to land.

Seriously. I introduced Sean to Rachel. He died on a mission with us. I owe it to the two of them to make sure their kid is okay.

“And you’re a Vanderbilt or something? You’re talking about a huge amount of money. Do you even know what you’re committing to?”

I gave him a tight-lipped smile.
Jon Williamson taught me a few things about the stock market
.

“Ah…” He looked at me as though I’d been hiding secrets from him. The quick-fire edge of his anger seemed to be dissipating. I suspected that it would’ve stayed sharp if Sean were still alive and potentially punchable.

Look, there’s no one to force to the altar with a shotgun, and no financial problem. Rachel’s afraid that you’re going to disown her for this, so now would be a good time to let your daughter know you still love her.
Noah did love his daughter. I could feel the caring protectiveness that fueled the intensity of his anger. I hoped that he wouldn’t direct that anger to Rachel, but there was only so much I could do.

He gave me a long look as my words sank in. I stopped breathing, but I didn’t shrink from his stare. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah.” He stood up and, after a few seconds of hesitation, put his hand awkwardly onto Rachel’s shoulder.

I approached the church like a thief. Trevor wanted time to grieve alone. I needed to honor that even though I felt a pull to go to him, to soothe his pain away.

Inside the sanctuary, Trevor’s face looked pale and troubled, even in sleep. I paused for a few seconds just to watch him breathe and clenched my hands into fists as I resisted the urge to brush the hair from his forehead.

I grabbed my laptop and headed back to the main building. Four other people already occupied the library—people who’d disrupted their lives to come here and be safe from Isaiah. Now they tried to telecommute or keep up with their college courses online. Too bad they couldn’t let their professors know why they’d had to leave. I bet fleeing a serial killer with superpowers would be a valid excuse for missing final exams.

I tucked myself into an empty chair and wrote an email to Nick Coleman, the charm lawyer who’d set up my investment account a few months ago. Coleman wouldn’t evacuate unless Isaiah headed to New York, but he had his own helicopter standing by if he needed to leave quickly.

Nick, I need you to put together trust paperwork for Rachel Fontaine’s baby. Enough to cover everything, including college. While you’re at it, you may as well make up that will you keep telling me I need. Set aside a chunk for my mom, but list Trevor Laurence as the primary beneficiary.

I humphed. Trevor would probably give all of the dirty, dirty money away to charity or something.

Geez. This was so surreal—sending an email to my charm lawyer to make arrangements for the money I’d accidentally made while mind-reading in the stock market. And why did I feel like this was more of a phone call situation? When did
anyone
deal with stuff like this?

I halfheartedly surfed a few sites while I was online. I really didn’t know what to do with myself. Everything seemed less worth doing if Trevor wasn’t doing it with me. It’d only been a few hours, but I was in Trevor-withdrawal.