Yay! here it is! i'm so sorry i couldn't do the chapters before - Christmas laziness and school work weighed on my back like a ton of bricks! Thank you to everyone who commented on past chapters and encouraged me to keep writing - you guys really gave me that kick off my arse that i needed. Sorry if this chapter is a little rusty, it's been awhile and feel free to comment on things you like, things you think could change, what you have for breakfast this morning, anything! I'm all ears. . .
Again, all genius must be attributed to the artist Joss Stirling as well as the fabulous Sky, Zed and all other characters, places and events.
Enjoy! (P.S - get some snacks, this chapter's a whopper and in retrospect i really should have split it up, but it's here and that's all i care about)
I spent most of that night mulling over what Sky had said, or rather, what she hadn't said. She was scared. Any idiot could see that. But she had changed; the old Sky had refused to admit she loved me, to acknowledge her difference from normal humans. But now – well, now, she had said both things, out loud, not just in her head. I closed my eyes and listened to those magical words again:
"I love you, Zed." She'd said in a gentle, almost tender voice. It had all been prefect, from the star-strewn sky to her messy hair frizzing under my nose. My breathing deepened; somewhere in my head, I knew I was dreaming, fast asleep, but for then everything was real. Sky was in front of me, lounging on a puffy sofa. To room was unfamiliar, but had such a feeling of safety and of home that I didn't question it. There was a fat ginger cat on her lap, walking in circles trying to find a comfortable place to sit, and she was stroking it absently. She looked older; her face was slightly thinner and cheekbones were revealed beneath baby fat, and (though it was hard to tell) she looked a little taller and curvier.
"What are you just standing there for?" she laughed, and gestured towards me with the hand that had been stroking the ginger tom; the cat growled in annoyance and flopped down facing away from me "Come here!" I moved without hesitation at her command and sat down on the floor beside her head; she started fiddling with my strangely long hair with her free hand. It was an odd dream to have; maybe it was a vision? I wasn't sure. But it was nice. We were together, and that was all I wanted.
The dream shifted, and from then on I didn't sleep well – nightmares, fuelled by my own personal suspicions. I couldn't shift the feeling that something was wrong; when I spoke in Sky's mind or caught then tenor of her thoughts, they seemed different; slightly muffled and fuzzy. It was like there was a half-closed door between us, and layer that was tinting things ever so slightly differently. It made her mind feel alien and strange, like someone was pretending to be Sky. But that was impossible; I hadn't heard of anyone yet who could imitate another's mind, replicating the way they think and act and speak to themselves. My mind wouldn't shut down; scenarios and ideas whirled in my mind. But none of them would help if Sky went home with her parents in the morning – I knew I couldn't change her mind, so all I could do was hope she trusted us enough to stay.
I rolled over onto my other side and closed my eyes, shaking my head. Sleep.
I was jolted awake by an alarm clock.
"Damn." I muttered – it had been a really good dream – then remembered why I had set my alarm clock. It was when Sky's parents were set to pick her up. I dressed quickly, taking care to look neat for Simon and his over-protective streak the size of the Grand Canyon, and went into the hallway. Sky was just coming out the bathroom in my Mum's clothes; the shirt sleeves and jeans were rolled up about three feet and her feet were bare. She looked utterly drowned in material, and I laughed at the sight of her.
"Here," I handed her some woolly socks "these'll keep your feet warm." Was it just me, or was there a new connection since last night? She took them and leaned on my arm to put them on.
"Are you going home?" I grumbled reluctantly.
"No." She said, and I looked up in surprise.
"Are you sure?"
"I need help," she said steadily "help only you guys can give me; I'm not leaving until I get it. Sally and Simon can't change my mind on this."
"When have they ever been able to change your mind?" I joked with a small smile – that's my girl – "I might need some tips in the future."
"Yeah, right – that would mean you having to actually talk to Simon, which I don't think either of you are up for yet."
"True." I nodded and Sky smiled triumphantly before the doorbell rung. We heard Dad open the door and greet an ominously silent Simon.
"Sky!" he yelled, even though he knew we knew Simon was here "Simon's here to pick you up." She took a deep breath and walked down – I followed as a silent source of support.
"Hi, love, ready to come home?" Simon asked immediately, fiddling with his keys impatiently.
"I'd like to stay a while, please." Sky started steadily "I think they can help me." her hand scrambled back for mine and I gripped it tightly. Sally touched the base of her throat in an action I hadn't come to recognise or associate with any kind of emotion yet, but the maternal worry in her eyes said it all.
"For how long?" Sally asked. Sky shrugged, but I could feel her reluctance to hurt them. I understood.
"Until I know if this is going to work." She shrugged, clinging to my hand like a lifeline. I noticed my Mum close her eyes, feeling out the future, and I copied her, frowning slightly when the outlook came out fuzzy and indistinct.
"I honestly think we can help Sky, Sally." Mum said with that knowing smile that had taunted me since I was a little boy doing things I shouldn't be "Please trust us. We're just a short drive away. You'll be able to reach her in a few minutes if you're worried about her." I could see my Mum's watertight logic working on Simon and Sally by their suddenly not-so-sure facial expressions.
"Love, are you sure?" Simon asked lowly to Sky.
"I'm sure." She nodded sharply, but Sally was less than convinced.
"But, darling, what can they do for you that we can't?" she begged, and I could see the desperation on her face; she couldn't help her Sky, her child, and that was worsened by the fact that someone else could. I suddenly felt very sorry for Sally and Simon, but pushed it away. The Brights weren't people to feel sorry for; they were friends.
"I don't know." Sky replied, standing straight and tall "It just feels right." Sky let go of my hand, rushing forwards to fling her arms around Sally.
"Ok, we'll try it. You've got your boy to take care of you then?" Sally smiled just a little and turned her gaze to me. I nodded a solemn nod back, understanding what that gaze was telling me; 'You take care of our Sky'.
"Yes, I have." And suddenly Sky was spearing me with the same gaze, only she was smiling. Simon and Sally reluctantly headed home (after asking another six times if Sky was sure), leaving Sky alone with us. All nine of us.
"I like your parents." I said in Sky's ear, so that only she could hear, slinging an arm around her "They keep on fighting your corner, don't they?"
"Yes. I'm lucky to have them." Sky said mildly, looking around herself self-consciously. She glanced at Uriel a lot – she hadn't met him yet, which was why it was even stranger that he and Will were staring fixatedly at Sky for across the kitchen as if she was about to sprout feathers and dance on the table at any second.
"Give it a rest," I said right into their minds, and their identical eyes turned to me "you're scaring her." Simultaneously, Will and Uriel smiled and turned around, pointedly not looking at Sky. Mum clapped her hands, and automatically all of my brother's heads swivelled in her direction.
"Right, my little ones, breakfast! Trace and Uriel – plates. Xav – knives and forks. Yves and Victor – you make the pancakes. Will – get the maple syrup." Mum dolled out orders with practiced ease, and the kitchen became an ordered flurry of activity, people dodging around each other to avoid crashes.
"What about Zed?" Yves moaned, getting a colourful mixing bowl out of the cupboard.
"He's got his hands full, comforting his girl, and is just as he should be." She smiled at us, standing frozen in the middle of the room with people running circles around us like a pair of statues "Sit down, you two." I tugged Sky over to the breakfast nook and pulled her onto my lap, watching the spectacle that any mealtime at the Benedict house was. Sky laughed a little at the sight of Victor in a pink apron, flipping pancakes, and watched in fascination as cutlery flew from the draws and landed neatly in Xav's hands. I wasn't watching my brothers show off, though – it was Sky who held my attention. She looked more alive and comfortable than I had ever seen her, even though a mist of doubt and hesitance remained in the way she sat and the let of her lips. One wild curl was already escaping her long plait, falling over her face, and I pushed it back for her, tucking it behind her ear and breathing in a deep breath. I smelled flowers, but I couldn't tell which – Sky always smelled nice. But Sky had no eyes for me – she seemed enraptured by Trace levitating eggs, one by one, from the box. Suddenly, one of the eggs spluttered and veered violently our way. Sky uttered a shocked squeak before I pulled her down, making her duck just in time. The egg sailed over our heads, hitting the wall with a wet fwack and sliding lazily down to the floor. I stared around furiously – who had done that? Did they think it was funny, throwing eggs at my Sky? At my Soulfinder?
"Who did that?" Mum shrieked, suddenly looking much taller than her petite frame should, her eyes homing in on Xav "Xav? I will not have you throwing eggs at our guest!"
"It wasn't me." Xav denied snappily "Why do you always think it's my fault?"
"Because it usually is," Will said dryly, pushing him from behind and making the cutlery clatter loudly on the table.
"Who did it?" Mum repeated, looking at my brothers with eyes that could have burnt holes on metal, her jaw set.
"Whoever did it will have the rest of the eggs shoved down their neck." I growled, wrapping a protective arm around Sky; how could anyone think that was funny? And who would want to even do that to Sky? I felt my lips tighten in anger – whoever it was, I'd–
"Um. . . I think it was me." Sky confessed in a small voice, shrinking back into me just a little. My mouth fell open with a pop, and Sky looked at me with glittering blue eyes, wide with wonder.
"I was seeing you do stuff – and I wondered if I could do it too." She continued "I lassoed the egg." The silence was broken by Will guffawing, the tinkle of cutlery moving into place from the wave of his hand relieving the stony tension in the room. Before settling down in their places, the knives and forks bowed deeply to Sky. I was watching Sky curiously – this magical girl who always had the ability to shock me, no matter what. And she loved me. I felt a thrill in my belly all over again. My Sky.
"You saw?" Dad was asking "What does that mean?"
Sky blushed vividly "Um. . .well, moving things – that's like a white line. I suppose I'm sensing energy or something." She said modestly.
"She sees emotions too, Dad." I added "She can tell if you're lying." A few of my brothers froze for a second.
"Very useful." Victor mused, looking at Sky calculatively in a way that I didn't like.
"Healing is blue." Sky said, ignoring Victor "When Mrs Benedict dipped into the future she sort of faded a little. I'm not sure about the rest, but I think each power has its own identity."
"What about telepathy?" Dad asked, projecting his words so that everyone could hear what he was saying. Sky flinched, and I rubbed her arm comfortingly. I was still worried about her; what had happened to her? What had they done to her?
"I can't see that," she replied out loud, like I expected "at least, I don't know what to look for."
"It takes the lowest energy of all the gifts when done close to the person you are communicating with. The signs might be too subtle to pick up." Dad mused. Sky started rubbing her temples, and I was reminded of when she contacted me from Vegas, the strain it had put on my mind and body to reach that little bit further so I could keep the connection, and the deep sense of pain I got from her.
. . . where had I been when I did that? Was it the warehouse?
"Don't think about it right now, Sky." I said, tugging her closer to me "I can tell it's hurting you." And I promised nothing would ever hurt you again, I added silently, remembering the vows I had made to myself and to Sky last night when I was alone staring at my ceiling, playing and replaying those three words over in my head. The sight of her, tied up in the warehouse, had haunted my vision all night and I'd had a fitful sleep, nightmares of bloody knives, stray bullets and Sky's screaming making a twisted haze in my mind.
"Why can't I remember?" she asked me quietly, her eyes pleading for me to have an answer. My mouth opened and closed for a second while I tried to think of what to say.
"That's what we're going to find out." Dad said firmly "But after breakfast."
"What about school?" Sky asked confusedly, like a good student.
"Family powwow – we get to skip classes." Yves grinned delightedly, sliding the first pancake in front of her.
"Like that day, back in September?" She confirmed, turning to me, and I wondered that she remembered and made a note of my absence, even from all that time ago; even when I was an utter jerk to her.
"Oh that." I nodded, thinking back to that very long day "Yeah. We were helping Trace hunt down the people who shot that family in the drugs deal."
"And these family powwows – you get to see what happened?"
"Yeah, but we get results," Trace said, sitting down at his place his own steaming pancake before him "We got the bas–" a quick glance at Mum had him quickly backtracking "son of a gun. He's up for trial early next year."
"You mustn't worry about us, Sky," I added, knowing what she was thinking as well as knowing that telling her not to worry won't help in the least "It's what we do."
"The family business." agreed Xav cheerily, drowning his pancake in maple syrup "The Savant Network as it should."
"And we're proud of it." Victor concluded, suddenly noticing his empty place "Where's mine?" a plate came flying from behind him, stopping in front of him with a fresh pancake on it. I quickly slapped my hand over Sky's eyes.
"No lassoes." I told her mock-sternly.
"I promise," she laughed "No more experiments with food."
Sky was happy over breakfast, but as the last traces of pancake disappeared she started to get more sober. By the end of it, everyone was feeling the seriousness of the moment. Dad quickly went out to check that everything was OK with the ski lift, but came back almost as soon as he left.
"We're all set," he announced, shaking the snow off his boots "Let's do this in the family room." I took Sky's hands and led her to the family room – it was just a smallish space at the far end of the house that was just big enough to fit us all in. Sky didn't say a word and neither did I as the table was pushed out the way and cushions were set in a circle for everyone to sit on.
"We just want you to sit with Zed." Dad assured Sky, sitting cross-legged opposite us.
"What are you going to do?" she asked nervously, her posture as tight as a guitar string – What have I let myself in for?
"We're treating this like an investigation." Trace said, sitting next to Sky at her right hand "Which is appropriate because we believe something's happened to you as a result of a crime."
"I do feel like I've been brain-mugged." Sky admitted sheepishly, like she was scared of being laughed at. I sat next to her gravely; I didn't know what to think or what was going to happen, but I knew I was ready for answers. Nothing could drive me away, not now.
"Each of us is going to use our gift to read you – nothing invasive, just a touch to sense which is the strongest lead." Trace looked at me and I knew what he was going to ask "I'm gonna need to hold your hand if Zed will let go – I have to be in contact with my subject to allow my gift to work. I should be able to tell where you've been recently – before the warehouse. You don't have to remember; if you were physically there I should be able to track you. Wonder boy here, as the seventh son, he gets to channel it all as he's the most powerful of us." That was the bit I was scared about – the channelling. It was by far the worst bit of my job, and I wasn't looking forward to spying on Sky's past.
"Is that true?" Sky asked, staring up at me with wide eyes.
"Yeah, I'm like the screen to display information. Compare the results. I can see what everyone else is seeing." I explained a little too casually.
"And he doesn't even need batteries." Will interrupted, collapsing on Sky's other side. My lips twitched at his joke, but couldn't bring myself to smile. Oh, the darkness I had seen – the things some people did, just because they could, over love and hate, anguish and honesty. It took me back to the time before Sky arrived; the time when I could feel myself slipping away, mixed and jumbled up with everything I saw and turning every direction at once, like blind man lost in a forest, not wanting to trip or fall or get prickled by the branches. Falling into the ugliness. I snapped back to myself with the sound of cushions moving and saw Uriel nudge Will out the way.
"Hi, Sky, we've not met properly yet. I'm the only sensible one in the family." He greeted warmly. I knew Sky's feelings about Uriel – about his gifts, that is.
"I can see that."
"My gift is to read memories, anything to do with the past. I know you're afraid I might blurt out your secrets, but you mustn't worry: I can't force you to show me the past, I can only open doors which you unlock." He said, holding her eyes steadily.
"I understand." Sky relaxed completely, leaning into my chest as she sat between my legs, her hand resting lightly in Trace's "And if I want to keep the door closed?"
"Then you do." Uriel nodded "But we think that you need to start building up a complete picture of everything that's happened to you to understand what's real and what you've imagined." Sky frowned but didn't say anything.
"It's like music, Sky," I said from behind her "Orchestrating the score one instrument at a time. You've been running on the melody for a while now and we think you've been leaving out the bass, or the foundation notes."
"You mean, about what happened what I was little?"
"Yeah." I nodded, resting my chin on her head "It's there." For a second, her eyes went a little but unfocused, but before I could comment they snapped back again.
"We think that when you've seen what's behind all your doors, you'll find it easier to close them on others, stop people reading you so easily. In turn, it should give you control over the more recent memories, like discovering the key pieces in a puzzle." Sky's resolve seemed to solidify at the prospect of a light at the end of a tunnel.
"OK, let's sort me out." She nodded one firm nod as Mum drew the curtains and candles flared into life with a click of Yves' fingers, filling the room with the thick, hazy smell of vanilla and cinnamon. No one spoke – the only sound was that of deep breaths and muffled screams of pleasure from the slopes, the rustle of trees, the rumble of the cable car. The rest of the world seemed somehow detached from us and the room, like we had created a delicate bubble between us and them. I held Sky close, my arms looped around her waist and clasped over her bellybutton, concentrating on the feel of her to keep me calm. My family's eyes were closed as they each used their gifts to ensure Sky's welfare, and I lazily closed mine as my inner eye brought up pictures in my mind from what they were seeing.
"Sky, there's nothing medically wrong with you – I can see no sign of mental illness, though I could feel your distress." I rubbed the nape of Sky's neck supportingly – if I wasn't in such a trance-like state I would have been relieved.
"Not crazy after all." I whispered to her.
"I can't read the future clearly." Mum spoke next "There are many possible paths leading from this moment."
"But I know where she's been recently," Trace continued "She's been in a room in a first class hotel – satin sheets, lots of glass, you touched something made from white leather and a deep pile carpet." I could see them all, in my head – the leather glowing white which mean it wasn't a child-friendly room, the luxurious sheets and glass creating the feel of opulence. I saw it from Sky's eyes, as they were her memories, and saw her hand reach out as if it were my own to stroke the leather tentatively "It is safe to say you were held somewhere before you ended up in the warehouse. If we got hold of the clothes you were wearing, I could probably tell you more."
"The threat's not gone." Dad said, making my stomach sink to my shoes.
"I sense more than one person looking for you, Sky." Will agreed. Sky strained to turn her head my way.
"Did you get all that too?"
"Uh-huh." I nodded, not opening my eyes "I also got that the two in the warehouse were the two who shot us in the woods that day. O'Halloran was a savant, extraordinarily good a shielding. I wondered if that was why I could feel a layer in your mind – something alien. Did you see that, Uriel?"
Uriel patted Sky's knee comfortingly "Yes, and I think I know what it is even if I don't know how it got there. Sky, your parents are artists, aren't they?"
Sky nodded.
"You know what sometimes happens to Old Masters? Someone takes them and paints over the surface and you have to strip off a layer to get back to the original? Well, someone had done something similar to your memories." He explained perkily.
"So what's the original and what's the forgery?" Sky asked.
"That's where we need to take it back to the base."
"Will everyone see?" she asked timidly.
"No, just Zed, me, and you. And we won't tell anyone unless you want us to." Uriel replied tenderly.
. . . don't want to do this – but you have to, Sky.
"Don't be frightened." I whispered "I'll be there with you."
"Ok." She took a deep breath "Ok. So what do I do?"
"Just relax and let me in." Uriel replied simply. With another deep breath I became Sky's sole support and it began. Uriel slowly entered her mind and she let him examine her memories – I saw scenes of Sky when she was just a tiny thing, meeting Sally and Simon for the first time, wrapped up in a shell, and how music had acted as a therapy for her. Those ones weren't buried and Uriel viewed them without trouble from Sky's emotions – it was when he started to go back further that Sky started to panic.
"Don't fight," I told her soothingly "he's not going to hurt you." I knew Sky's fear didn't lay in my brother – it lay in her past, the murky area she had been hiding from all her life.
"Nothing we see there will make us feel any different about you," I reassured. I could feel Xav working to reduce Sky's racing pulse, and the rest of my family calming her so that we could do our work. With one big push, Sky opened the door for Uriel. A waterfall of images streamed from that black zone.
A cold night. Seething anger in a car.
"I've had as much as I can take of this kid. She ruins everything!" a hand beating the steering wheel while a gaunt woman fixed her make-up in the mirror. She looked slightly like Sky in the curve of her jaw and round of her nose, but her skin was an unhealthy colour and texture – she was malnourished, and no amount of foundation could hide the ugly red blotches and blemishes.
"What can I do? I'm the only family she has." The woman puckered her lips and made kissing noises as she slapped on another layer of blood-red lipstick that was too dark for her; it made her skin look even more sickly.
A change of scene. A different set of lips, bubblegum pink and gentle, kissing Sky's cheek, though if felt like the woman was kissing mine – I felt everything Sky had felt, seen everything she'd seen. I felt a connection between Red Lips and Mummy – they were sisters. Mummy smelled like soft rose perfume and had a silvery laugh. Her long fair hair brushed my tummy when she leant over to tickle me. I giggled, hearing the infantile sound come from my lips like a ring of bells.
A doorbell rings.
"Stay here, poppet." She puts up the side of the travel cot, and I recognise a strange, sing-song accent from her. Irish? A rumbling voice comes from the corridor; this one doesn't sound sing-songy. Daddy. We don't want him to find us. Why is he here? I clutch my lop-eared rabbit tight to my chest and listen closely, fearing every breath.
"But you're not my soulfinder, Ian – we both know that. Miguel is. I'm going to him and you can't stop me!" Mummy's voice screeches – it was ugly, not like that special tone she usually uses on me. She's cross – really, really cross – and scared. I feel scared.
"What about the child? What about me? You can't leave England with her!" the snarl came back.
"You never wanted her before – you're just jealous!"
"That's not true. I'm not letting you do this."
"I have to be with him. You of all people should understand."
"Go then. But I'll take my daughter with me." the voices come nearer with every breath. I whimper, seeing great swirls of anger and love dance around the room – so this is what it's like, some part of me thinks musingly. A shadowy tall man plucks me from my bed and crushes me to his chest. The mouse night-light explodes – bulb fragments fly – I flinch.
"Mouse!" I scream. Mummy shakes with anger.
"You lost Di too young – lost your soulfinder – and I'm really, really sorry, Ian. But against all the odds, I found mine after I'd given up and I have to go to him. Now just put her down!" Daddy squeezes me tighter – he's shaking too.
"Why should I be the one left with nothing, Franny? I won't stand for it." Mummy moves to take me back, and he throws his hand out – my books fly off the shelf and bombard her, knocking her sideways. I smell smoke – the carpet's on fire – I sob.
"Stop it, Franny. You'll set the whole bloody house on fire!"
"You're not taking her from me!" Mummy's temper flares as she struggles to her feet – there is fire in her eyes – my bed bursts into flames "I won't leave my baby behind." She reaches out, tugging on my clothes. The burning bed spins in the air and slams into her, throwing her to the wall and making her scream.
"Mummy!" I screw my eyes shut.
That was the last time I saw them.
The scene changes again. Auntie Red Lips is collecting me from the hospital. I was the only survivor of the fire – miraculously floated out the window by unseen forces and found curled up on the dew-damp grass, curled into a tight little ball. We were living in a dingy flat, and my dress was filthy, my whole body wrecked with cold. No amount of experience could get me used to the feeling of being hungry and cold. The top of my head doesn't even reach the door handle, and loud music was booming from the main room; I'd been told keep out of the way, so I was hiding in the hallway.
"Don't look at me like that!" the driver man snaps; another man hovers at his shoulder, looking at me with blank eyes. I scurry back, knowing that slowness was punished with the sharp heel of a boot biting into my flesh. I push myself against the wall, trying to pretend I wasn't there, that I was invisible. A package passed between the two men and money passed in exchange.
"He cheated you," I whisper – I don't know why. I just did. The second man freezes and kneels down beside me. He reeks of fried onion and stale alcohol.
"What did you say, little chicky?" he asks with amusement in his eyes – he was laughing at me.
"He lied." I explain "He's pleased he tricked you." I rock to and fro, knowing I would be punished but also knowing that He would be too.
"Hey," He said, smiling insincerely "You're listening to my girlfriend's little brat? What she know about anything?" Onion man took the package from his pocket and squeezed it between his thumb and finger, the smile vanished in the deep grooves of his face.
"This pure?"
"One hundred per cent. I give you my word." Like your word is worth shit – I thought grimly, looking at the Man from my own eyes for a second before immersing myself in Sky's memories again, becoming Sky.
"He's lying." I repeat; the Man was covered in a repulsive yellow haze with the texture of gone-off milk.
Onion man holds out the bag.
"Thanks chicky. I want my money back. Your word isn't worth fifty quid." The Man hands the money back, swearing his innocence the whole time.
Next came pain.
Later, I heard him telling the doctor how I'd fallen down the stairs and broken my arm. I was clumsy. A lie. He'd got angry with me.
A shift, and I'm in the car again. Another day. Another journey. Another escape, before people got too interested in us. Auntie Red Lips is jittery. She thinks He is going to ditch her because of me. She doesn't like me either. I see too much, she says. Like a witch. Like her stupid, dead half-sister.
"We could give her to the social services in Bristol, say we can't cope." Red Lips glares at me, and I don't doubt her resolve. She'd do it.
"First rule – never let the authorities even know we exist. We're not going back to Bristol – we've moved on." He speeds past another car, cutting it up in an angry blare of horns.
"Since when, Phil?"
"Since the police busted the Cricketer's Arms."
I gaze out the window at the blue sign – it had a little white plane symbol at the top. The road is going somewhere , taking off on a jumbo jet. I wish I could. I start to sing: Leaving on a jet plane. . .
"That's it!" the Man swerves, taking us off the road and into a service station "We're dumping this freak here."
"What!" Red Lips glances across at him in bewilderment. Slimy green malice gloops around the Man. Her colours are dark purple, with just a hint of green. My stomach churned just looking at them. I look at my stained, grubby shorts instead.
"You're joking, right?"
"Wrong. I'm leaving her here. You can either stay with her or come with me. Your choice."
"Bloody hell, Phil, I can't just dump her!" we pull up in an empty space in the car park, and He glances around nervously.
"Why not? I can't operate with her around. Some do-gooder will find her. She'll be their problem, Jo, not ours. She's just Franny's mistake. She should've got rid of her. She's nothing to do with you – with us." He leans over and kisses her, and as he does his aura becomes that horrid yellow again – he's lying. Red Lips bites her lip, leaving a block of red on her teeth.
"All right, all right, give me a moment. God, I need a drink. We won't be traced?" he shrugged in response.
"Car plates are false. If we don't get out, we won't be caught on camera. No one in England knows her. Parents died in Dublin – unless they think to check abroad, she's nobody. Who's gunna recognise her after all this time? She's not even got the accent."
"So we leave her and someone else looks after her. She doesn't get hurt." Auntie tried to persuade herself that she was doing the right thing.
"But she will if I have to come back for her. She'd bad for us – ruining what we've got."
The woman nods with a deep courage-producing breath "Let's do it."
"We just need a chance to get clear." The man turns and grabs the front of my T-shirt "Listen, freak, you be quiet, no fuss, or we'll come back and get you. Understand?" I nod. I'm so scared I think I might wet myself. His lights pulse violent red, just like before he hits me. He reaches over and opens the door.
"Now get out and sit over there. Don't cause trouble." He instructs. I undo my belt, used to looking after myself.
"Are you sure about this, Phil?" Red Lips whines. He doesn't answer, just pulls the door shut. The next thing I hear is the squeal of car tires as he accelerates away.
I sit down and count daisies.
I open my eyes, and this time I'm not in a damp-ridden flat or in a musky car, but in the family room with the smell of vanilla and cinnamon, Sky clutched in my arms, leaning all her weight on me. Her skin is cold, and I hug her tighter. If one tiny thing had gone wrong – if her parents hadn't thought to float her to safety during the fire, or her Aunt's boyfriend had kicked her from a different angle, if she had landed on her neck and not her arm when she fell down the stairs. . . it made chills dance up my spine just thinking about it. I buried my face in Sky's silken hair, suddenly incredibly thankful that she was here, with me, in that dark little backroom that doubles as a game room, sitting on lumpy cushions with my family watching. My hands shook with anger – she was betrayed by her family, abused and cast out on the mercy of the world because they couldn't be bothered. I was also incredibly thankful that Phil had abandoned her when he did – I couldn't help the feeling that another hour in his company and Sky would be dead; abandoning her was the best thing those low-lives ever did.
"You saw that?" she whispered, not daring to look at me. She was shaking too.
"Yeah." I replied, my voice unusually husky "Thank God they dumped you before he killed you." I massaged her head with my chin, the thin hairs catching on my stubble. I didn't have time to shave that morning, too busy thinking of Sky and her parents.
"I still don't know who I am. I don't think they ever said a name." She mused quietly.
"A truth-teller don't go down too well in the house of a dealer." I wrapped my hands around hers, pushing gently on her palms to relax her clenched fists "I've seen scum like that before working for Trace and Victor. You were lucky to get out."
"I spoiled things for Phil big time – that man was his best customer. I did that more than once."
"And he hurt you more than once." Sky cringed, and I rubbed soothing circles on her back.
"I think so." She muttered. My nostrils flared and my fists clenched in fury at this unknown person who had hurt my Sky. If I ever met him, I'd kill him.
"I'd like to get to him, make him feel what he did to you."
"He was an evil man, using my aunt. She was mostly OK – but couldn't be bothered with me. I don't suppose they're still together." Sky said reflectively, looking at our still clasped hands, only this time mine were clenched.
"They're probably both dead. Drugs and dealing don't make for long happy lives." Uriel said matter-of-factly. Sky was sagged against me, and I could read the exhaustion in every inch of her body. I didn't dare but in to what she was thinking; after all that she had been though, she deserved the privacy of her mind, like a sanctuary. She was exhausted – I knew this because I was exhausted, and it wasn't even my past we had been scouring out, not my family.
"You've seen enough," I said, aiming to relieve at least one of her potential fears "We don't expect you to remember everything right away."
"But we've found the foundation," Uriel added "We can build on that." Sky looked around the circle of honest faces, echoing what we had said without the use of words. I could tell Victor and Trace were impatient to get more info, but they would have to wait. I had to care for my soulfinder.
"You need a break." Trace read my expression through the darkness "Take the girl snowboarding, Zed, we'll make sure you're safe." With a visible effort, Sky sat up.
"By break, do you mean break a leg, because that's what's going to happen if I try to board." She announced blankly. Trace laughed, regarding me fondly.
"No, Sky, I don't. He'll take good care of you."
Dun dun duuuhhhh! ok, so there it is, and i promise it won't be another million months before i upload again - cross my heart. So here's a question: should i do a fic about life after Finding Sky for Zed and Sky? Get back to me on that one. . .