Mari Mancusi - Scorched

“Did my brother show you something?” he demanded. “Some kind of vision?” When Trinity reluctantly nodded, Caleb frowned. “I thought so. He probably opened up some doors by mistake. They’re hard to shut if you haven’t had the proper training.” Stupid Connor. Always botching up people’s heads.

“No,” she protested. “I…I heard them earlier as well.”

She said the words hesitantly, as if she was embarrassed to admit them aloud. “At the museum and then again at my grandpa’s house.” She moaned loudly, squeezing her eyes shut in agony. “God, I’m one shotgun blast away from becoming my mother, aren’t I?”

“Oh, Trin.” He gave her a sorrowful look, remembering exactly how it felt, how horrible and confusing and maddening it had all been. It was all he could do not to reach out, pull her close, and wrap his arms around her in an attempt to draw out her pain. But he knew in his heart she’d only pull away, rejecting any comfort from his touch. To her, he was still the enemy. The one who had tricked her and stolen her away. He had a lot to prove to her before she would trust him. And there was no better time to start then now.

“Look, Trin,” he tried, raking his aching hands through his hair in an effort to give them something else to do. “I can help you. But you have to trust me. Just close your eyes, okay?”

Her frown deepened. Her eyes remained open—stubborn as she was beautiful. “I know it hurts. But just do it, okay? I swear it’ll help stop the voices.”

“Fine,” she said, snapping her eyes shut. “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” he muttered. She was good at making things difficult, that was for sure. But he wasn’t going to give up on her—as everyone had once given up on him. “Now listen. I need you to do a little visualization. Imagine each voice you hear attached to a person and each person standing at a doorway at the edge of your mind.” He closed his own eyes, trying to remember how he’d been taught by Darius. “They’re all trying to push past one another to enter.” He paused. “Can you see it?”

She was quiet for a moment. He peeked an eye open and saw her squeezing her own eyes shut, a tormented look on her face. “Yes,” she said at last.

“Good. Now slam those doors shut.”

Her eyes flew open. “This is stupid.”

“Do you want the voices gone or what?”

Reluctantly she shut her eyes again. “Okay, fine. I’m shutting the door…blocking out the big bad—”

She gasped. He opened his eyes. She was sitting on the bed, a shocked look on her face. “Oh my God,” she murmured.

“Told you.” He couldn’t help a small smile.

“How did you do that?”

“ You did it. I just showed you how. Don’t worry. It gets easier with practice. Soon it’ll be as natural as breathing.”

She looked at him wonderingly, her eyes liquid pools of ebony. “How did you know? Are you cursed with voices too?”

“I told you: it’s a gift,” he corrected, though, in truth, that was not always the case.

She screwed up her face. “Some gift. My mother shot herself in the head over this so-called gift.”

His heart squeezed at her words. At the naked pain blasting across her face.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply. “It can be overwhelming for those who don’t have proper training. The voices can get so loud they block out everything else.” He thought back to one particular torment-filled night of his own, when he’d been sure he wouldn’t live to see the break of dawn. “In any case, I won’t let that happen to you. I can help you control them. To shut them out until you need to listen.”

She started to nod, then winced.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“There’s still this one sound,” she admitted, looking up at him, her face ghostly white. “This horrible, high-pitched sobbing. No matter how hard I try to block it out, it keeps slipping through the cracks.”

Caleb’s shoulders relaxed and he gave her a small smile. “Oh right,” he said. “I almost forgot about her. She’s going to be a little tougher to tune out.”

Trinity cocked her head in question. “She?” Her eyes widened as Caleb gestured to the egg, resting between two pillows on the adjacent bed. “You’re trying to tell me the egg is crying?”

“Not the egg,” Caleb corrected. “Emmy. She can sense you’re upset and it’s scaring her.”

“She can sense my emotions?” Trinity asked, rising from the bed and walking curiously over to the egg. Caleb watched, breath caught in his throat, as she reached out hesitantly, then dared pull the egg into her arms. The bond was growing. He could see it in her face. Her touch. She was fighting it, but still….

“I feel like I should…I don’t know…comfort her or something?” Trin dragged her gaze from the egg to Caleb. “But that’s stupid, right?”

“Actually it’s about the smartest thing you’ve said all day.”

She gave him a withering look but turned back to the egg, stroking it softly with her hand. A moment later she looked up, her face mirroring her surprise. “She stopped crying!”

“She can feel your warmth. It’s comforting to her.”

Trinity stared back down at the egg, her face warring with mixed emotions. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmured more to the egg than Caleb. “You’re an evil dragon. I should be trying to destroy you. And yet…” She looked up at Caleb. “How did it all happen?” she asked slowly. “How did it go from this egg to a raging apocalypse?” She paused, then added, “And how do I fit in with the whole thing?”

Caleb paused, wondering what he should say. Then he realized he didn’t have to say anything. He could show her instead. It was the only possible way now to win her to his side. To get her to truly believe he meant what he said.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small amethyst, hoping it would do the trick. He walked over and pressed it into Trin’s palm. “I’ll show you,” he told her. “I’ll show you exactly what you did…and why you did it. All you have to do is take my hand.”

Trinity jerked up in bed, a sharp pain slamming through her with a force that almost knocked her back to her pillow. She looked around, rubbing her temples, trying to gain her bearings. She was no longer in the motel room with Caleb, but some kind of large dormitory, with rows of bunk beds lining the walls. A military base perhaps? But no, the others sleeping around her definitely didn’t look like any soldiers she’d ever seen. The woman in the next bunk had to be eighty years old.

No! Please! Please stop!

She startled, recognizing the voice.

Emmy?

Suddenly it all came rushing back to her. This was another vision, like the one Connor had sent her of the Scorch. She let out a breath. At least this time she hadn’t been dropped into the middle of an inferno.

Sliding her feet out of bed and onto the cement floor, she rose silently, careful not to wake anyone around her. She could feel herself being drawn toward the door at the end of the room and decided not to resist the urge. After all, Caleb had sent her here for a reason. He had something for her to see. And she needed to see it, whatever it might be.

“Show me what you will,” she murmured, surrendering herself to the vision.

Her feet led her through the door, down a dark hallway, around a bend, and out of the dormitory altogether. Stepping into the warm summer night, she realized she was in some kind of military compound after all, with clusters of dark gray buildings surrounded by a barbed-wire fence. All the structures looked exactly the same, but at the same time, she somehow knew exactly which one she was looking for.