Wynter's Horizon (23 page)

Coward
, I wanted to call after him. “I am not … normal, and I was born this way. I’m strong, really strong, and can run fast. My perceptions, my reflexes, are better than regular people. And I can’t control my anger. If it gets away from me. Then I hurt people. I’m sorry I lied to you. It wasn’t right. I just wasn’t sure what to tell you.” I answered flatly, eyes locked on her, wishing I could make her believe me by the strength of my gaze.

“This—” I motioned with my hand between us “—is not right. I’m not normal. Hell, I’m barely human. I do not belong in your world. But try as I might, I cannot get myself to leave you alone. I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I didn’t mean to lie to you. I never meant for it to get this far. I shouldn’t have ever entered your life. I’m sorry. I just wanted to … get to know you.”

“So, you’re like…”

“A freak.” I answered. “Something that shouldn’t be but is.”

“Are you mean? Bad?”

“I can be. If pushed.”

She nodded and, breaking my gaze, looked out over the water. I wondered what she was thinking. Too bad my powers didn’t include mind reading.

“What do you see?”

“Pardon?”

“What do you see when you look out there?”

I hesitated, unsure of what she wanted. “The sand, the water, waves?”

She half laughed, her voice shaking. “I mean, what do you see after all that?” This time, a touch of impatience entered her voice.

“The horizon?” I guessed. She nodded and cocked her head to the side.

“I see that, too. When I look out there, that’s what I see.”

I waited. It seemed like she wanted to say more.

“I mean, here we are, according to you, very different, you don’t even think of yourself as human, but we see the same. We can’t see beyond the horizon. Even you can’t, with your superhuman eyesight. Right?” She took a couple of steps closer but still kept an arms-length away. I wanted to touch her, to have her next to me, just to feel her breathing.

To control myself, I concentrated on keeping my eyes away and focused on the horizon. She was right. I could see better, hear more, run faster, and was a hell of a lot stronger than any regular human but, even with all that, I could not see beyond the horizon.

“You know, it always amazes me that those guys—the explorers—couldn’t see past the horizon, and everyone told them that was the end of the world, but they were willing to go for it, to risk it on a feeling they had, a
feeling
that the world didn’t end there.”

I turned and met her unyielding gaze, but still said nothing.

“I don’t know what you are. Maybe you’re dangerous and barely human, but what I know is this. Jason started as a friend, became a really good friend, then a boyfriend, and now I don’t know what you’d call him except my own personal Hell. He treats me like crap. He wreaks havoc in my life. And you, you tell me you’re bad, but you find me, take care of me, and want me to be okay. Human or not…” She paused, hesitating a moment. “Who’s really the worst? Those men, they didn’t know what they would find, but they turned out okay. They went off course and got fricking lost, but they were right about the horizon.”

She pinned her green eyes on me. “Promise me you will tell me the truth from now on.”

I nodded, not breaking her gaze but already breaking my promise. I couldn’t tell her at this moment what I knew—that I loved her. I loved her for her acceptance, for her ability to believe and to try, for her golden skin and the way the light played through her hair and shone on her face. I loved her for her depth of understanding I had never known in anyone else, for the way her top clung to her frame and her jeans curved around her, for the worry in her eyes and the smile now playing with her full lips. I loved her for a thousand reasons, big and small. That was the truth, but I couldn’t speak the words.

She moved closer, reached out as she smiled, and pulled my scotch from my hand, taking first a whiff and then a sip. “Say something,” she prompted, “so I don’t feel like an idiot. “

I smiled sheepishly, raking my fingers through my hair, leaving a mountain of words unspoken. Instead, I said the only ones I could give form to. “Where were you on vacation?”

“Spring break,” she corrected me. “St. Maarten with my parents and Julia.”

I nodded in understanding. “Was it nice?”

“It was beautiful. Warm, sunny. What do you really do?”

I stared at her, impressed by her tenacity. “Military ops.” We weren’t supposed to divulge anything about our lives, past or present. Fuck it. “I was in a sub part of the United Kingdom’s special ops, SAS. But I was discharged a few months ago.”

She gulped, but she didn’t move away.

***

We sat on the porch, both staring at the black sky lit only by a sliver of moon and a few stars peeking through the passing clouds. Casting all shyness aside and delving for information, she fired her questions off.

“So, you’re like a super figure?” She sounded astonished.

I laughed. “Yes. Kind of. Like a genius, only physically. Like Secretariat.”

“Who?”

“The horse. He had double the size of heart. It made him faster and stronger and no one knew it till he died. I have weird brain issues that give me special powers.”

“Like John Travolta in
Phenomenon
?” Good analogy.

“Yes. Without the brain tumor.”

“Or Buffy. You’re more like Buffy with the strength thing. And you’re a spy? You fight for the good guys?”

If only it were that simple. “Well, kind of. I’m military trained, and I go into hostile environments and get things done. Things that normal army units can’t.”

“Like Jack Bauer. Have you always done that?”

“Yes.” In a lot of gray areas like him, too. “From the time I was young. I was sent off to military boarding school.”

“Did they know your powers? Can you see through things?”

I half laughed. “Yes. They knew. I was pushed through and became part of SAS at eighteen because of it. And, no, I’m not Superman.”

She got defensive. “Well, it sounds like it.” I wanted to tell her the difference was that Superman saved lives; I took them. “But you see really well?”

“Yes.”

“And your hearing?”

“Also very good.”

“Like how good?”

“Right now, I can hear a car radio on the road, I can hear the birds down by the ocean, and I can hear Quinn watching some sex scene on the telly downstairs.” As the words left my mouth, I regretted the choice. I could see the wheels clicking away quickly, and then the realization hit her.

She ducked her head slightly, peering out from under her hair. “Did you hear me that night in the bar?”

I wanted to lie, but there was no point. “Yes.” She looked away as her cheeks flushed.

She recovered quickly, though, taking a deep breath and turning to face me, her eyes red but dry. “And smell?”

“Yes. It’s good, too. Like an animal.”

“Is that how you found me that night?”

“Yes, that and I heard you crying.”

“Strong?”

“I can pull down trees.”

“Can you fly?”

“No, that’s super hero stuff again.”

“And how do you die?”

“Normal stuff. I’m not immortal, but I do heal quickly. Quicker than a normal person, and it takes more to kill me. ” I thought of the electric shock treatment.

“Quinn?”

“Yes. He’s got them, too. Strong like me but not as fast. He doesn’t have control issues, though.”

“Why do you?”

“I don’t know. No one does. We’re anomalies, freaks of nature, so no one can explain our bad points either.”

“Are there a lot of you?”

“I don’t know about the world. But there is a special part of SAS devoted to us. Called the Forum.” She stared at me now, her green eyes gazing into mine, and I paused.

“Why did you have that picture of me?” She said it quietly, challenging me.

“A friend gave it to me. He was worried. Wanted me to know someone was following me. That’s why I was there that night. The night … I found you. It could be Forum stuff. I haven’t found out yet. We are supposed to keep what we do and who we are a secret. Not associate with normal people, because of our jobs and our lives.”

“But you didn’t listen?”

“No.” The word hung out there, and we sat in silence looking at each other. I wanted to kiss her. To lean over and touch her lips to mine, to stroke her golden cheek with my fingers, to sense her blood rush to the surface, to feel the softness of her skin under my fingers. The seconds ticked away. There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t.

She looked away, out toward the water, breaking my gaze and the moment. “Am I in danger?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Explain.” She said it matter of fact as if we were discussing the weather, not the possibility that she could be hurt.

“Well, one, since then, Quinn and I haven’t found anyone tailing you. And two, I spoke with my contact there. Told them I’d take matters into my own hands if anyone came near me or anyone I know. I have some knowledge. Some bargaining power.” I smiled a bit, thinking of Baxter stuttering on the other end of the line when I called. Served him right. I knew he was hiding something, but I couldn’t figure out what.

“Will it work?”

I ran my hand through my hair. I’m sure it was standing on end by now.

“Am I asking too many questions?”

Maybe she’d noticed my hair. “No. No. It’s not that.”

“What is it?”

“I keep waiting for you to have had enough.”

“Oh, well, you know me. I take a lot.” She kind of laughed and then smiled broadly, but it didn’t touch her eyes. I realized she was talking about Jason. Most people would have seen her as a doormat, and I’m sure she’d heard that at some point, but I saw in her a compassion, someone able to see the other side even when it would seem there wasn’t one. She was forever standing on Boo Radley’s porch.

“Did you tell anyone about what happened to you?” I asked.

“Kind of.” She said it quietly and then, clearly avoiding further discussion of the matter, added, “Is everything else normal?”

“Yep. Pretty much. Everything normal human stuff. Just the perceptions, speed, strength, healing and emotions. I think you should tell someone.”

“I have told someone. You. You can drink a lot?”

“Yes. We have a hell of a tolerance. I don’t count. I was there. You need to tell a friend. Like Julia.”

“I did. A bit. Sleeping?”

“Normal.” I paused. My idea of normal and hers were probably different. “I have a lot of nightmares … from some of the things I’ve seen—and done—so sleep is kind of elusive.” I decided to give up on the other conversation.

“Do you kill people?”

I stared at her for a while, thinking of the people I had killed through the years. I wondered if she would get up and leave after I told her. There really wasn’t a way to hedge the answer. “Yes. Sometimes.”

If she noticed, she didn’t let on. “Quinn too?”

“Yes. We usually work together. A lot of times, the rest of our team is regular soldiers. Depends on the job.”

“Do you like it?

“The job or the killing?”

“Either.”

“Bloody hell, Wynter, that’s some question.”
I wished to God we could talk about something else.

“Just wondering.”

“I like the job. The hunt, the adrenaline rush. Getting people out of danger.” I didn’t bother with the other part. I turned the tables on her. “Did you tell Julia about me?”

“No.” I could sense some hesitation in her answer.

“What did you tell her?” I pressed.

“I told her you were different. She pushed for more but finally left it alone.”

“What’d she say?”

“She told me that nice guys were hard to find, and everybody was weird.”

I smiled at her and the ironic use of the word nice and guy. “Well, that’s a way of putting it.”

“I know, but don’t worry. That was after she asked if you were gay.”

I threw my head back, laughing louder than I had in a while. “Did you hear that, Quinn?” I called.

A faint answer wafted to us from downstairs. “That’s bullshit. I’m going to have to speak to that girl.” Wynter laughed slightly and smiled back at me. It was obvious she had known she would get a reaction from Quinn for that one.

“She also asked about orgies,” she called back to him.

There was an answering, “Well, that’s better.”

I heard her sigh and relax into her chair, leaning her head back to look at the stars. I followed suit, marveling at how things had turned. For an instant, I felt at peace.

Chapter Forty-Five

Wynter—Friends

Beck took to showing up in my room most nights while I was out studying. I loved it every time I walked in and found him lounging on my bed, dirty blond hair sticking up, worn jeans, and a dark shirt that always
clung in all the right places. Studying my textbooks or a trashy magazine I’d left lying around—always with intense interest.