Trance. Part 18

"You know," he said, tilting his head to one side, "you're beautiful when you're being idealistic."

I grinned. "Soak it up, because I tend to err on the side of cynicism."

He studied me with his flecked eyes-eyes I desperately wanted to see in their full silver detail, instead of tinged lavender-taking in details without pa.s.sing judgment. Only I wanted him to judge me, d.a.m.n it. I wanted his opinion. Wanted to know what he was thinking.

"Gage, for the first time in my life, I'm part of something. You know what it's like to be an outsider, we all do." A tingling sensation began in my stomach, and it wasn't from the conversation. c.r.a.p. Familiar symptoms in a new problem, rearing their ugly heads. Concentrate. "These powers of mine have a purpose and an intent, and I can't ignore it. Even if what I'm here to do is die saving the rest of you."

"You're not doing to d-Teresa, you're trembling."

I was. When had that happened? I tried to stop and couldn't. No cramps this time; just an overwhelming chill sending tremors through my arms and legs, across my torso and up to my scalp. A million ants crawled over my skin, dancing senseless patterns that tickled and scratched. Why now? Why the h.e.l.l now?

"Teresa?"

He grabbed my hand; I barely felt it. I blinked hard and rubbed my eyes. The purple had settled. I saw only a vague outline of his head in the murky color veiling my vision.

"Gage?" My own voice sounded strange, fearful and choked.

"What is it?"

I turned my head, seeking some other shape or building, and saw nothing. Even the vague outline of Gage's head-if I'd even seen it the first time-was gone. No spots of light or dark, just a deep violet s.h.i.+eld. My heart thudded hard.

"What, Teresa, what's-?" He inhaled sharply. "Your eyes."

I groped blindly for him, and his other hand squeezed my shoulder. "What about them?"

"I don't-they're completely purple. No iris, no sclera, nothing, just purple. Teresa, can you-?"

"I can't see. I can't see a d.a.m.ned thing."

There is nothing quite as frustrating as going temporarily blind when your top priority is locating and stopping a killer. I don't do helpless easily or well, and sitting on an exam table while people talked around me raised my frustration level to a dangerous high.

"Her body is building up an excess of energy again," Dr. Seward said. He stood somewhere to my immediate right.

"But that doesn't make sense." Gage, on my left and holding my hand. "She expended a lot of power yesterday, both at the rescue site and upstairs. How can it be building?"

"I don't know, Cipher, I really don't."

"I mean, we can't just sit up on the roof and hope she goes nova again without killing herself."

"No, we can't do that, especially with news copters flying in and out of our airs.p.a.ce now. She will have to release the pent-up energy eventually, and it will have to go somewhere. My fear is that the stress to her body will cause a seizure, or worse."

"Like a heart attack?" I asked.

"Possibly. Seizure, heart attack, aneurysm. We spoke about this yesterday, remember?"

I rolled my eyes. "Kind of hard to forget. What was I supposed to do? Not save those people at the construction site?" Fabric rustled, and I wondered if Seward was shaking his head.

"Not helping someone in need isn't an option for most Rangers. I should know that by now, and it's pointless to ask you to go against your nature. But as a physician, I can't simply stand by and watch you kill yourself."

"Do you have a better alternative?"

"I have a colleague at Johns Hopkins who's had moderate success with cryogenic stasis-"

"Forget it."

"Trance-"

"Never in a million years, Doctor," I snapped. "I will not be put into a tube and frozen on the off chance you can even defrost me in a year and fix what's wrong. I was not given these abilities so I could be put in cold storage. I have them for a reason."

"You really believe that?"

"Yes." Stay the course. "Stasis is not an option."

"It's okay," Gage said. His arm slipped around my shoulders, and I leaned against him. "We'll figure out something else, Teresa."

"We need some time to study your test results," Dr. Seward said. "We have more information to work with this time than we did before. If there's an answer in all of this, we'll find it."

"What do I do in the meantime?" I asked. "I can't find Specter like this. I can't even find the toilet like this."

"The others will be awake again in a few hours," Gage said. "We'll talk about it then, okay? We'll figure something out as a team."

Team. "Is Ethan resting better? He was worried before, about getting taken over."

"He seems to be resting comfortably now," Seward said. "He's very strong, Trance, and there's a great chance that with enough time, he'll fully recover."

I snorted. "Time is something we seem to be in short supply of lately." But relief tempered my annoyance.

"He's alive, Teresa," Gage said. "That's what matters."

I wanted to take comfort in the simple thought. We were still alive and able to fight another day. Nevertheless, what good did that do when you couldn't antic.i.p.ate the next battle in an undeclared war? Hours were ticking away. If Specter attacked before my eyesight returned, I'd be useless. Helpless, just like when I was a kid. We didn't know where Specter was or who he would possess next. The others couldn't confront him alone.

The door hinge squeaked. Footsteps whispered over the linoleum. Papers rustled, and then the door closed again. No one spoke.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"One of my a.s.sistants with a test result I asked for," Dr. Seward said. "And I think I have moderately good news for you."

"Moderately?"

"The test confirms something about your powers I had suspected from the start, and I think it may help us figure out a way to stop these overloads."

"What is that, exactly?"

"Have you ever changed an air filter?"

I blinked, frowned. "Yeah, a few times. The maintenance staff for the hole I used to live in was nonexistent, so I had to do a lot on my own. Why?"

"Your powers don't come from nowhere, Trance. When you create the orbs, as you call them, you draw energy from around you and sometimes from yourself."

That explained the warmth and sudden appet.i.te after power bursts. So far, I was following his logic. Still didn't know what air filters had to do with it.

"Your body draws in the energy and converts it," Seward continued. "It takes what it needs, just like an air conditioner sucking in air through its filter. It blows the cool air back out, just as you manipulate the orbs. An air filter traps dirt and pollen, and over time, it builds up."

His a.n.a.logy hit with perfect clarity. "My body can't filter out everything it draws in. It builds up like gunk in a lint trap, disrupts my vision, and affects my bodily functions. Right?"

"Yes. The disrupted vision is simply a symptom of a building problem, just like the cramps you experienced the day before yesterday."

Gage cleared his throat. "So what was that thing she did outside? When she exploded and collapsed?"

"Her body figured out a way to expel the buildup on its own. However, it was an extremely traumatic, violent eruption, and it could have killed her. If we can't help you dispel the buildup from yesterday morning's activities in some other manner, it could happen again, a worse eruption, that could have any number of side effects, including heart attack, stroke-"

I held up one hand, palm out. "Okay, I got the list the first two times. Your people figured this much out. How hard can a cure be?"

No answer. Great.

"Can I go back to my room now?" I asked.

"You really should stay here," Seward said. "But I can't stop you from leaving."

"Thank you."

"If your symptoms change, you'll come back." It wasn't phrased as a question, so I nodded an affirmation.

Gage kept his arm around my waist as I stood up. I wobbled; his grip tightened. The trembling spell was over, but my legs felt like gelatin. With Gage's support, we left.

"I guess this is my body's subtle way of saying 'Get some d.a.m.ned sleep,' huh?" I asked.

"Something like that."

"You have any pet dander allergies?

The muscles in his arm rippled. I could only imagine the look on his face. "No, why?"

I smiled in his general direction. "Because if these spells keep up, I may need to invest in a Seeing Eye dog."

He didn't reply.

It seemed funnier in my head. As usual.

Twenty-one.

Exploration Gage never let me go, and on the elevator ride up to our floor, I noticed something: I reeked. Really reeked. I hadn't showered in ... well, days. Between the grime and stagnant water from the construction site and the battle sweat of the previous evening, I needed a shower badly. Fresh clothes couldn't hurt, either. Keeping me so close to his side when I had to look like h.e.l.l and smell like c.r.a.p warmed my heart. I would have pushed me away a long time ago.

The elevator stopped. The doors swished open, and Gage led me out. Instead of hanging a left as I expected, we immediately turned right. I recognized the tangy scent of the bathroom-soap and hard water and tile cleaner.

"You read my mind," I said.

"I thought you could use a shower."

My heart tripped, and I couldn't stop from asking, "Together?"

He stopped walking, his hold on my hand loosening. "No. I figured I'd get you there and help you get started. I can find Renee if you'd be more comfortable."

Having no sight gave my ears a little extra oomph, but I detected no hidden inflections, no disappointment draped over his matter-of-fact statement. I desperately wanted to see his face. Conversation with Renee aside, I couldn't deny my attraction to Gage, but s.e.x complicated everything, and it would really complicate us. Married Rangers hadn't been allowed in the same units. Burgeoning relations.h.i.+ps were split up quickly so as not to complicate unit dynamics.

"I think Renee is too occupied right now to bother bathing me," I said.

"Yeah." More silence. "I didn't bring you here to seduce you, Teresa."

"I know, Gage." I just wanted him near me while I couldn't see. Protecting me. "Are you angry with William about something?" The words slipped out, voicing something that had been bothering me all night. The timing seemed both awful and perfect-Gage would never walk away and leave me stranded in the bathroom. Would he?

"I'm not angry with William," he said, his voice firm. Almost amused. "I was frustrated with myself, and I misdirected. I'm sorry."

"Frustrated how?"

The hand holding mine tensed, but he didn't let go. He cleared his throat-I imagined his face shuttering, ready to stop a conversation he didn't want to have, and I wanted to scream. "Would you like me to leave, Teresa?"

"Stay." I squeezed his hand firmly. "Can't have me slipping and banging my head on the shower faucet, can we?"

"No, we can't." He placed my hand on the tiled wall. "Hang here for a minute, while I get some towels and soap."

"Okay."

The warmth of his arm left. His footsteps receded. The instinct to flee warred with the unfamiliar nugget of attraction that I'd been nursing since Bakersfield, the desire I felt each time he touched me or kissed me. Standing in the bathroom, blinded by my mysterious powers, and unsure if we'd even survive against Specter, I decided I didn't want to think about the consequences of where this could take us. I wasn't a leader. I didn't choose to be. I was a scared, lonely young woman who wanted more than anything to feel alive. Really alive.

I needed this, but when Gage returned, who did I want him to be? The friend I adored would offer a platonic shower, help me get dressed, and shuttle me off to bed. The man I'd crushed on as a child and whose gentle, teasing and pa.s.sionate kisses lit flames in my belly would offer something more-something that scared me as much as it thrilled me.

I unlaced my sneakers and shed them both without losing my balance. The material was tacky, gritty. They needed to be washed as badly as I did. I shrugged out of a light jacket and let it fall to the floor, and my belt quickly joined it. Barefoot in my jeans and T-s.h.i.+rt, I used the wall for guidance and found a sink.

My fingers traced over the smooth porcelain basin, around the stainless steel faucet and k.n.o.bs, everything so cool to the touch. The world seemed so much larger as I explored it blindly, linked solely through the tips of my fingers and the scents in my nose. Every flaw in the finish, every layer of soap sc.u.m brushed against my skin, as detailed as if I were looking at it.

Cool air whispered across my arms as the bathroom door opened, and then closed. A lock turned with a gentle snap. Footsteps walked toward me. Then the rustle of fabric and the thump of plastic bottles.

"It's me," Gage said.

I waited silently, listening to him move around the room. Behind the row of sinks was a line of toilet stalls, just like any public restroom. Somewhere to my right was a curtained door, and behind it, more curtained changing rooms. Through one more entrance were the showers. Twelve heads, six on each side, with a waist-high tiled wall between each one and down the center for moderate privacy.

The curtains rustled a few times before Gage returned to my side. He took my hand and drew me forward. I took small steps, the tiny square tiles cool and dry under my bare feet. Through the curtain and then to the left. I judged our stopping point in front of one of the changing stalls.

"Your hair is tangled," he said. "May I brush it for you?"