Revelations (8 page)

“Hey,” he called out to me.

I opened my eyes and caught his gaze.

“You okay?” he asked. He came over to me and knelt before the chair, his hands moving to rest on my knee.

I nodded, not ready to admit how bad I felt.

Jonas saw right through me. “Headache, eh?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, darlin’. Let’s go inside.”

“But it’s so pretty out here,” I said. “The stars will be out soon.”

“Damn the stars,” he said as he got to his feet. “You’re more beautiful than any star.” He held out a hand to me, but I didn’t take it. Since I didn’t take his hand, he scooped me up into his arms.

As I hung on for dear life, I said, “What are you doing?”

“Playing soccer,” he said with a grin.

I rolled my eyes and slung my arms around his neck. “Just don’t drop me, okay?”

He mock stumbled and laughed in my ear. “I’d never drop you,” he told me.

“Good, ‘cause I’ll kick your ass if you do,” I told him.

“I don’t doubt that.”

Jonas took me inside and tossed me gently onto the couch where the rest of what I now considered my family was watching TV. Starch controlled the remote which meant
The X Files
was on if he could find it playing. Patty stretched out on the loveseat portion of the big sofa and her head lay in Pete’s lap. Pete appeared to be asleep, but his eyes opened briefly when Jonas deposited me in the only free corner of the couch. Humbolt and Hermione were still out in the shed, where they always were, since they had no real taste for television. Philip came in with a cup of tea and sat down on the floor.

“Ah,
The X Files
,” said the head of our household. “Is there ever anything else on TV?”

“Nope,” Starch said. “And never should be as far as I’m concerned.”

“Mulder is hot,” Patty said quietly, to which Pete kissed the top of her head. Looking up into his eyes, she added, “You’re hotter.”

I smiled over at Patty, and she winked back at me.

“Where’s Cadence?” Philip asked.

“In her room, reading a book,” Starch said. “She opted out of TV tonight.”

“Good for her,” Philip said. “We should all take a lesson from Cadence.”

Jonas left my side to grab a beer from the fridge. He came back, snapped open the top with ease and sat down beside me. I put my head on his shoulder, and Starch gave me a look. My right eyebrow rose in response, but I said nothing. He only smiled.

Now Starch, one of my dearest friends, is quite the looker. Anyone would think I’d go for him instead of Jonas, but Jonas has a quality about him no one can match. Starch is tall, lean, and nicely built. He has wavy black hair, dark as ink. His eyes are his best feature by far, the color of the sky on a summer day; bright and brilliant blue, even bluer than Philip’s, something I hadn’t thought possible. There is a fire burning in Starch’s eyes if you make him angry, which doesn’t happen often, but at least that gives you a glimpse of what really hides behind those eyes. No one in our household ever saw Starch use his powers, and it would be a long time before I would get him to do it. He was worth every ounce of friendship I gave him, because he was something special. He was not Jonas. Jonas was his best friend, and Starch certainly didn’t hold a grudge since Jonas got me first. Not that I knew if Starch harboured any desires towards me or not. I didn’t look into his head to find out.

Anyway, I fell asleep this night before most of them, due to the pounding of my head. When I woke, the pounding diminished and almost everyone else had gone to bed. Pete and Patty were in their room, and though they each had their own room, they spent almost every night together, in one room or the other, doing what couples do. Humbolt and Hermione remained outside, probably probing some dead piece of road kill. Cadence was asleep in her room, as Philip slept soundly in his. Alendra had been the only one not in the room when Jonas brought me in, and I didn’t question where she was. I could only guess. Jonas went to bed, not wanting to wake me while trying to move me. Starch was snoring on the couch. On the TV, a hot Fox Mulder was investigating gods knew what.

I got up and took the remote from Starch’s hand and draped a blanket over him, keeping my friend asleep all the while. Another thing my mind is capable of doing is making people sleep. I turned off the lights, made sure the front door was locked, knowing the twins had their keys though it wasn’t like anyone would be out here in the middle of the desert besides us to break into the house, but you never know, and turned off the porch light. A light glowed in the kitchen, and I followed it.

Hermione was there. I shook my dim head. I thought she was still outside, and she’d startled me. It was two o’clock in the morning after all.

“Hey,” she said to me in her deep, musical voice. “You should be in bed.”

“I should?” I said as I sat at the table.

The tea kettle on the stove whistled softly. Her reaction was to instantly remove it. “Want a cup?”

I shook my head and yawned. “No. You’re right. I should be in bed.”

“Jonas said you had a headache.”

“Yeah,” I said. “When did you talk to Jonas?”

“Just now,” she said. “You know, you should try some of my teas. Herbal remedies.”

“No, thanks,” I said. I remembered how horribly I’d been affected by medicines back in Ohio. “Jonas’s still up?”

“He was a few minutes ago,” Hermione said. She smiled softly. “You two really hit it off, didn’t you?”

I lifted an eyebrow in response. “Guess,” I said.

“Did he say anything to you today?”

“’bout what?” I asked, stifling another yawn.

“He told me he wasn’t feeling well.”

My yawning ceased instantly. “He was fine earlier,” I said slowly.

Hermione did something I usually do; she shrugged. “I told him I’d bring him some tea. Would you rather take it to him?”

“That’s okay,” I said. “I’m gonna head off to bed.”

“Okay, dear,” Hermione said. “Sleep well.”

I said I would and retreated to my room, but sleep was the furthest thing from my mind. Jonas and sick didn’t go together. He told me he’d not been sick since he was five years old when he lived in the desert. My mind began to whirl which meant it began to ache. Though only a dull ache, it managed to keep me awake for most of the night. When the sun began to rise, which I could see out my bedroom window, I felt an itch begin in my hands. I hadn’t healed anything or anyone since healing myself in front of Christian. I hadn’t even tried it out so I couldn’t even be one hundred percent sure the powers in my hands survived the accident that wasn’t, or accident my ass, as Jonas liked to say. I lay in my bed, turned over on my side so I could look out the window, and I watched the skies. Once, during the night, I heard a long, low howl echoing across the desert plains. It didn’t occur to me until much later that howl probably belonged to Alendra. My mind stuck so completely on Jonas.

Chapter Twelve

The next morning found me still awake and somewhat cranky. A long, hot shower took care of my grumpiness, but I was tired and worried. So the first thing I did was go find Jonas. After getting dressed, that is. I found my man— for that’s what he was— beneath the hood of his white truck. He was shirtless and cursing up a storm.

“Truck do something wrong?” I asked him as I came to stand beside him.

He looked up at me, and I saw a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead along with a streak of grease. “What?” he asked.

“I’ve never heard you curse so much,” I said.

“Then you’ve never heard me talk,” he growled.

“Somebody’s in a bad mood,” I said.

He just snarled back at me.

“Fine,” I said, “I’ll go back inside.”

Jonas grabbed my arm. “Nope,” was what he said as he swung me back towards himself. “Besides, I got this bitch started earlier but now she’s being fussy and won’t start again. I’m not going back inside until I get her working.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever get her working,” I said, thinking of something my father said about his Mustang. I looked around for my chair. “Hey, who took my chair?”

Jonas lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Let’s sit in the truck. I’m due for a break, anyway.”

“First,” I said, grabbing the red rag from his back pocket. He stopped, and I reached up and took his chin in my hand. I drew him down to me and wiped the grease from his forehead. “Little dirty,” I explained.

“Thanks, babe,” he said. He reached out and grabbed the shirt he’d left sitting on the roof of the truck.

“Come on.” I took his hand and led him into the truck. He got in the driver’s side, and I got in on the other. The windows were open, and I rested my feet on the sill. I leaned back into the old leather seating and turned my head to Jonas. “Feeling better?” I asked.

“What?” he said as he looked my way.

“Hermione. She told me you weren’t feeling well last night.”

“I’m fine,” he told me.

He was faking, and I could tell, even without reading his mind. The strange tingling began in my hands, and it was an itch I didn’t know how long I could ignore. Instead of vigorously scratching my palms, I reached over and put the back of my hand against his cheek. He pulled away from me.

“Jonas,” I said. I was suddenly filled with worry. Jonas, being cold blooded, has a normal body temperature of about seventy one degrees. Mine’s ninety seven point one, which I am told is not really normal, but oh well. It was easy to feel the heat off his skin. “You know you can tell me anything.”

He looked at me with those golden eyes. His smile was slight and somewhat forced. “I know,” he said.

I raised my eyebrow.

“Okay,” he said. “So I’m not feeling so great. So sue me.”

“You have no money,” I said. “Jonas, why didn’t you say something last night?”

“Because I was fine last night,” he said. “I went to bed at about one thirty. I got up at one forty five feeling pretty crappy. I got a drink and found Hermione in the kitchen, and she said she’d make me some tea. You really can’t say no to Hermione’s witch doctor medicines. Then I went back to bed and she brought me her stupid concoction. I’m okay. Really.”

“Liar,” I said.

He rolled his eyes at me, a little trick he’d been using more and more often, one he picked up from me.

So I leaned over and put my hand against his cheek again. This time he didn’t pull away, only leaned into my touch. “We should go inside.”

“Not until I get this truck started again,” he said to me. “I think I have an idea on how.”

Since I knew he wasn’t to be deterred, I said, “Wanna know how good a mind reader I am?”

“Every day,” he said.

I pulled my feet back into the truck and got out. He moved to follow, and I motioned for him to stay put. “Just go through everything you’d do yourself, and I’ll follow your instructions. Think clearly and in order or I’ll get confused.”

Jonas eyed me suspiciously, then did as he was told. I followed his thought-out directions, reading deeply into his mind to keep myself on track. I don’t know what I did, but I did what he wanted to do. I used this tool, tweaked this thing or the other thing. I found myself bent over the engine of a pickup truck, doing repairs I never thought possible, but with Jonas’s help, I was able to do everything correctly. When I discovered Jonas thinking about the round curve my ass made as I bent over the truck, I smiled and chewed on my ever-chewed bottom lip. I enjoyed being the centerfold in Jonas’s imagination.

After a few minutes, I put the last tool back in the tool box, brushed my hands together and leaned in through the driver’s side window. “Start her up,” I said.

Jonas stuck the key in the ignition, turned it, and the truck roared to life.

“Yes!” I shouted triumphantly. I pumped a fist in the air for emphasis.

Jonas grinned at me. “How’d you do that?”

I tapped my temple. “If it’s in your head, it can be in mine.”

Jonas reached behind him and pulled his old red rag from his pocket. He used it to wipe some dirt off the temple I’d just tapped then handed me the rag so I could wipe my hands. Then he leaned over and rolled up the passenger side window and his own window, turned the key, and got out of the truck.

“Inside,” he said. “Now.”

I moved out of his way as he shut the door to the truck.

“Come on, babe,” he said.

I slipped my hand into his, and we went together.

Inside the Commune, I forced Jonas to go to his bedroom where I made him lie down. Since I was all dirty from working on the truck, I decided to go take another shower. When I dried off, except for my hair, I went back in to check on him. He lay on his side, his eyes closed tightly. He was nearly snoring, but not quite so I didn’t want to disturb him. I did though.

“Jonas?” I said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed nearest to his head.

“Hhm?” he muttered then said, “I was dreaming about you.”

I snorted laughter. “You were not. You were dreaming about Keira Knightly. What is it with that girl, anyway?”