Thin Air (10 page)

“So with a little planning, you could really secure your future,” Sarah continued, clearly not seeing the stop sign Cherise's expression had to be flashing. “Girls like Jo, they don't really understand the world. In the end, she's going to end up with some loser, if she can get a guy at all, and she'll never be happy. Strong women end up alone, that's just the way things are. I, on the other hand, plan to end up in the Diamond Club surrounded by a huge circle of friends.”

“Yeah, well, didn't you already try that?” Cherise asked blandly. “You know, marrying for money. Wasn't your ex loaded?”

“My ex was a bastard,” Sarah said. “And he was a criminal, too.”

“But you stayed married.”

Sarah shrugged. “Until I didn't.”

Cherise was busy foreseeing a future for Sarah, one of bitter martini-fed binges, debt, and multiple divorce. She was kind of having fun at it, too.

“I don't think you know Joanne at all. Your sister kind of rules,” Cherise said. “And the next time you say anything bad about her, I'm going to smack you so hard the rocks in your head will rattle.”

Sarah's mouth opened, then closed.

Then she laughed, because she assumed that Cherise was kidding.

Only I knew Cherise hadn't been, really, and that warmed my heart.

Blur.

Things flashed through my mind faster and faster, memories that didn't belong, things I didn't want to know, things I never wanted to know, and I needed it to just stop, stop,
stop
.

Cherise and Not-me in a car, racing ahead of a storm. A fight on a deserted road. Kevin holding Cherise while Lewis and I fought off enemies. Cherise behind the wheel, whispering prayers under her breath as we drove into a storm.

I couldn't take it all in. Overload.
Stop!

I tried to pull out, and somehow the connection began to fail, but in the last instant I saw a face.

My own face, with eyes that weren't human—incandescent, glowing eyes. Eyes like David's. I watched her lips part and heard her say, “Mom?”

I screamed and sat up, lost my balance, fell, and ended up sobbing and gasping for breath. The air around me was still and cool, and there was grit under my palms where we'd tracked snow and dirt into the tent from outside. It smelled like unwashed blankets and sweat and fear.

Back to reality.

I felt an overwhelming surge of sickness, fought it down, and slowly sat up. My breath came hot and ragged, and I wasn't sure if my head would ever stop throbbing. Oh, God, it hurt.

Lewis's hand pressed warmly and silently on my shoulder, and then he went past me to kneel beside Cherise. Her eyes were closed, and she was very still.

Too still.

“Is she okay?” I asked. My voice sounded raw and ragged, and I didn't like the way it seemed to quaver at the edges. My head felt as if someone had stuffed it, mounted it, and used it for batting practice.

Mom
, the image in Cherise's memory had said.
Mom.
David had said that we had a child. I hadn't expected her to be…adult. And look so much like me.

Imara.

“She's alive,” he said, and for a crazy second I thought he meant Imara, but he was focused on Cherise. “Christ, Jo. How did you do that? How could you do it? You're not an Earth Warden; you've never…” He turned to me, and I saw his eyes flare into colors, like the Djinn, but no, that was on the aetheric; I was seeing it superimposed over the real world and it was disorienting, sickening. I tried to get up, and fell down. Hard.

“Jo!” He grabbed me and held me, and I could feel his whole body trembling, a wire-fine vibration. He was so bright, I couldn't see. I squeezed my eyes shut. “
Focus.
God, what did you do to yourself?”

I could barely breathe. Nothing was right. Too much color, too much sound, every heartbeat thundering from him was like a roar, his voice echoed in my head and deafened me, even the smells were too raw and immediate….

His touch was the only thing that soothed me, stroking through my sweaty hair, over my skin, grounding me gently back in the world.

“Shhhh,” he whispered in my ear, barely a breath. “Shhhh, now. Breathe. Breathe.”

He was rocking me in his arms, and I could feel my heart hammering wildly. My body felt too tight to contain me; I was bursting out of it; I was…I was…

Oh, God.

I exploded with light, convulsing in his embrace, trying to scream but my throat was locked tight, sealing in sound.

And Lewis held me until the waves subsided and left me empty and broken, trembling with reaction.

I'd dug my fingernails into his skin, and when I let go I saw blood welling up in the wounds.

He didn't speak. I don't know if he could. His face…his face was full of an indescribable mixture of wonder and horror.

Cherise sat up as suddenly as if somebody had jerked her upright by the hair, and blinked at the two of us in surprise. “What just happened?” she asked. “I feel better. Am I better?”

Lewis let out a slow, unsteady breath. “Yeah,” he said. “You're better.” And he looked at me. Wordless, again.

“And me?” I whispered. “What am I?”

He was looking at me with unfocused eyes. With the eyes of a Warden.

“I don't know,” he confessed. “But whatever you are now, you're damn strong.”

“Yeah, like
that's
news,” Cherise said, then blinked and stretched. “Man, I'm hungry. What's for dinner?”

I was looking into Lewis's face, and he was staring right back at me. It felt intimate, but not in a sexual kind of way—this was something else. Frank and appraising and a little frightening. My heart rate was slowing, not speeding up. My body was cooling down from overdrive.

“Prime rib,” Lewis said, and broke the stare to turn to smile at her. “Baked potato. Fresh hot bread with whipped butter.”

“Food tease,” she said, and unzipped herself from the sleeping bag. “What's really for dinner?”

“Trail bar.” He fished in his backpack, found one, and handed it over.

“Comes with champagne, right?” Cherise's smile was brave, but still scared. He offered a bottle of water with the gravity of a sommelier.

“Only the finest vintage,” he said, and cast another wary, strangely impartial glance at me. “You'd better eat something, too.”

I didn't want to. The trail bar tasted like…trail dust. Even the chocolate chips seemed bitter and wrong, but I doggedly chewed and swallowed. The water seemed all right, and I chugged it until I burped. It all stayed down, and after I'd finished the brief meal I felt full and more than a little exhausted. Lewis watched me without seeming to, looking for any sign I was about to come apart at the seams, I guessed, but he didn't ask me any questions. He quizzed Cherise lightly about what she remembered—which was very little, just what she'd told me before—and how she was feeling, which was apparently great. And sleepy, because she kept yawning and finally curled up into the warm nest of the sleeping bag and fell asleep.

I was just as tired, if not even more so, and gravity dragged my eyelids down one remorseless fraction of an inch at a time. Lewis didn't say anything, just took my empty bottle and set it aside and helped me climb into my own sleeping bag. It felt amazing being warm and horizontal.

Lewis's hand smoothed hair back from my brow, and his eyes were at once wary and concerned. “Do you know what you did?” he asked.

I mutely shook my head.

He leaned over and kissed me very gently. “You did the impossible,” he said. “And that worries me.”

It worried me, too.

But not quite enough to keep me awake.

 

“Rise and shine, ladies.” That was Lewis's voice, too loud and too cheerful. I groaned and tried to burrow into the warmth of my blankets, because the chill outside was sharp, but he robbed me of that pleasure by unzipping the sleeping bag and flipping it open, exposing me to the cold. “Right now. We're breaking camp. We've got a lot of ground to cover if we're going to make it to the rendezvous.”

I didn't want to think about it. My calves and ankles and thighs were stiff and sore, and my neck felt like it had been locked in an iron vise all night. I had a headache, and every bruise I'd collected over the past few days was making itself loudly known.

But yes, I got up. Mainly because Cherise was already moving, and it would have looked pretty bad to be outdone by the girl who'd been on the verge of death.

Lewis jerked his head toward me and exited the tent. I squeezed out after him and groaned softly as the brutal cold closed in around me. I was surprised my breath didn't freeze and fall to the ground.

Lewis wasn't even wearing his goddamn
coat.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Sore,” I said. “Tired. Fine.”

He looked at me, and I was sure he was examining me in more than the normal way. After a few seconds he gave me a grudging nod. “You look all right,” he said. “But, Jo, understand: What happened with you yesterday, that wasn't natural. It wasn't right. You're a Weather and Fire Warden. You are
not
an Earth Warden. There's only one person alive right now with all three powers, and that's me.”

“Is that what this is about? You're
jealous
?”

He barked out a laugh that hung white in the still air. “No. God, no. If you were truly a triple-threat Warden, I'd be completely relieved. But, Jo, I don't see it. I don't see it in you today, and I never saw it in you before. So what the hell happened? After…You seemed…” He looked honestly uncertain how to phrase it. I saved him the trouble.

“Orgasmic? Yeah. Kinda.” He looked away. “Not normal, huh?”

“There's no
normal
when you talk about a thing like this, Jo. Did you access Cherise's memories?”

I nodded.

“Did they make sense to you?”

“At first. It got more confusing the further I went.”

“Because your brain was overstimulated,” he said. “Which in turn must have triggered the—”

“Big O,” I supplied. “Honestly, Lewis, you're not
twelve
; you can say what you mean. Come on!”

He ignored that. “That means you were channeling power through neural paths that normally carry sexual energy,” he said, half to himself. “Which would fit, because some of the Earth Wardens are wired that way, too. But why can't I see it now? Your aura is just showing normal strength, in the normal range for you. Weather and Fire, and the Fire's not that strong.”

I shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“It might, yeah.”

“Does it matter enough to
freeze our asses off
talking about it right now?” I demanded. “Because in case you hadn't noticed, you're shivering again.”

“Am I?” He looked honestly surprised, and reached into the tent to grab his coat, which he draped around his shoulders. “There. Happy?”

“Thrilled, man.”

Lewis quickly moved on to other, more practical things, like breaking camp, which Cherise and I didn't do all that efficiently, and then leading us on the second half of the Winter Wonderland Death March. Cherise asked questions, some of which I could answer and a lot of which I couldn't. Lewis rescued me on the biggest one, which had to do with what had happened to Cherise and Kevin.

“You remember being sent out by the Wardens,” he said. “To fight the fire in California?”

“Yeah.” Cherise was flushed and breathless, but on her it looked good. Lewis wasn't exactly immune to it, either, even if it wasn't conscious attraction on his part; he was simply lagging back, paying more attention to her than mercilessly slave-driving us through the snow like a pack of sled dogs. “He was showing me how he did some stuff. Like creating firebreaks. It was cool.”

“Do you remember what happened then?”

She was silent for a few seconds, blue eyes far away, and then she nodded. “This woman came out of the trees. At least, I think it was a woman.” She frowned. “Why can't I remember what she looked like?”

Lewis sent me a look that clearly said,
Demon
. I didn't disagree. Once you're already off the cliff, you might as well pretend you're flying.

“What happened after that?” Lewis asked as we puffed our way down another treacherous hillside, feeling for good footholds beneath a cruelly smooth blanket of snow. I nearly slipped on a rock that turned under my foot, and grabbed wildly. Lewis caught my arm and steadied me.

Cherise took her time answering. “Um…I remember falling, and there was—I don't know. Pain, maybe. I mostly remember passing out. And waking up out here, in the snow. Freezing.”

Eerily similar to my experience, in fact, except that she'd managed to hang on to her clothes. Lewis and I traded another long look.

“Could I have been—”

“No,” he said, definitely. “What happened to her was clear. What happened to you isn't.”

He tested the featureless snow ahead of us with a long twisted branch, then nodded for us to come ahead. We trudged in silence for a while.

“I do remember something,” Cherise said suddenly. “I remember—hey, did you shoot me?” She frowned and unzipped her coat to peer at her sweater. “Oh, man. You really did. But I'm not—”

“We'll talk later,” Lewis promised. “Save your strength. We've got a ways to go.”

No kidding. Hours of it, breathlessly scrambling over cold, slippery terrain. Not my best time ever. But I had to laugh when Cherise, clearly tiring, accepted Lewis's help across a narrow frozen stream. His big hands spanned her waist and he lifted her easily over. “Oooooh,
nice hands
. You know, I could get to like you, mister.”

“Ditto.” Lewis grinned briefly, and then turned his attention back to the trail.

“Hey, Lewis?” Cherise's cheer had faded almost instantly, and she grabbed his sleeve to drag him to a halt. “You haven't said, about Kevin. Do you think…Did whatever happened to me happen to him, too? Was he out there looking for help?”

Lewis glanced over at me, then focused on the snow. “Not likely,” he said. “If what I think is true, Kevin would have lasted longer. Been of more use. For all I know, he could still be under her control.”

“Her, who?” We reached the bottom of the long icy hillside and started the tiring trek up the next one, hauling ourselves by grabbing icy branches when the going got too tough. “Come on, you guys are like superheroes or something! There's got to be something we can do for him!”

Lewis looked at her for a second, and his eyes looked dark and cold. “If there was,” he said, “I'd be damn well doing it. But I can't take chances. Not with the two of you.”

Cherise's foothold broke loose, and she began to slide. I gripped a handy branch, reached down, and grabbed her by the coat sleeve, hauling her upright again. Lewis helped me get her to the top of the hill, where we paused for breath. The view might have been gorgeous, except for the low clouds obscuring the mountains and pressing down like dirty cotton on the treetops. Snow continued to fall in a steady, soft, relentless assault.

I wanted to ask how far we had left to go, but it wasn't worth wasting my breath. I didn't think it would help if I knew. My legs were burning, sore in the calf muscles, and I had scrapes and bruises and my headache hadn't gone away. My acquired memory of Cherise's experiences had settled into an uneasy, slippery state that felt like I could have imagined them or dreamed them. But at least I had a memory of me, of the television station, of Cherise, of Sarah, of…

Of the girl calling me Mom.

“Lewis,” I said. He hesitated in the act of stabbing the branch through the snow, then took two or three more steps. “I saw Imara. In Cherise's memories.”

He didn't answer. He took another step. I followed in his wake, puffing for breath. The air felt icy and wet around us, and sleet burned my face. The sky was an unbroken gray bowl, and it felt oppressive, as if it were slowly lowering down onto my head. Nature. Who needed it?