Chapter Three

Parker awoke the next morning to wish that she hadn't. The pain behind her eyes was blinding. This wasn't a hangover, it wasn't even a migraine. It was ten times worse than either. She whimpered and curled herself into a tight ball, unable to do anything else.

Suddenly a pair of cool hands were helping her to sit up and holding an icy glass of water to her lips. Parker gulped at it greedily until there was none left. Her headache eased slightly and she opened her eyes. When she saw who was standing next to her bed and gazing at her with concerned compassion she groaned and shut them again.

'What are you doing in my bedroom, Jarod?'

'You broke rule three'

'I only moved a few things'

'A few things is a few too many when you're starting.'

'Doesn't explain why you're here.'

'I knew you'd try a few things once I was gone and I know what the headache feels like when you go too far. Would you like some aspirin?' He asked worriedly, seeing her sway slightly as a small herd of elephants went stampeding through her brain. She nodded then clutched her head; feeling like it was going to fall off. She could abuse him for being in her bedroom later. Right now she needed painkillers before her brain started to leak out her ears.

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By mid-morning the headache had abated to a level where she could actually walk around without using the walls for support. Jarod excused himself and disappeared. Parker gulped down some more aspirin and collapsed on the couch, certain now that he had taught her how to use the gift to make sure that she'd be incapacitated and unable to show up to the Centre in the morning. At the thought another stab of pain shot through her head and she lay back on the couch and groaned.

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At his house Sydney relaxed with a book. He had been more than ready to heed Jarod's suggestion of a day off. If Jarod said something, it was usually for a reason. Besides he needed a holiday.

Even so, Jarod had paid him a visit last night, just to make very sure that Sydney wouldn't be anywhere the Centre the next day.

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Broots used his day off to excuse Debbie from school and spend a little quality time with her. He was afraid of the Centre if they realised that her wasn't really sick but he was more afraid of Jarod if he realised that Broots had crossed him. Broots preferred to stay on the pretender's good side. He was glad he did because early that morning Jarod had appeared in his house just to make sure that Broots did what he had recommended.

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After leaving Parker's house Jarod entered the Centre through the front doors for the second and probably the last time in his life. The receptionist at the front desk didn't recognise him, but then again she wouldn't. He had always been one of the Centre's more classified projects. It was convenient for him. It meant he had a while to do what he needed to do before he was borne down upon by sweepers.

He stood in the centre of the foyer and, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, he prepared himself.

TBC . . .