I made little air quotes to emphasize my point. “If I saw something, I shared it with them. That’s all. It was entertainment.”
“And is it all entertainment?” he asked softly. “Will you read for me, KC?”
I shrugged. I could see that tonight was going to hell in a hand basket. Journalist Jason was on the scene. My “maybe” place had turned into a big fat “not-tonight-and-probably-not-ever-in-this-lifetime” place.
“Give me your hand, and I’ll try.” I held my hands out expectantly, and he placed a hand in mine. Instantly there was a flare, and I knew I would be able to read him. Closing my eyes, I pulled my hands back slightly from his and let the heat rise. I don’t know how else to describe it. I held my hands, palm facing palm, about three inches apart, and Jason’s hand hovered between mine. Images and impressions flashed in my mind. “You have one brother, and someone else. Maybe a half sister? I can’t see your mom, but your dad is still important to you.” I concentrated a bit more, there wasn’t much there, almost as though after asking me to read, he’d changed his mind now and was hiding from me.
“This newspaper job is important to you. The article that you’re writing about the sweat lodges is an audition, of sorts. That’s why you want it to be so much more, why you’re digging.”
I quit talking and worked at not reaching out, but rather letting any other impressions flow over me. Suddenly, the images came, a fast-forward slide show. I had a quick image of Jason holding a newspaper, with his article and byline above the fold: Juniper Springs Hoax. Another image appeared of Jason under the bright moonlight, standing alone on the giant boulders that edged the eastern boundary of the Honey House property. A blur of motion as something hit him and took him down. Jason on the ground, his body broken, blood everywhere. Then nothing, just a great blackness. Aw, shit . I hate when I see bad things.
The connection between us went cold and dark. The red-hot connection was doused so abruptly that my hands actually felt icy, and I rubbed them against my legs to warm them.
Jason laughed, a little self-conscious sound before dropping his hand to his side. “So,” he said. “I guess I got my answer.” He wore an expression I’d not seen from him yet. Was that bitterness twisting his handsome face?
My stomach hurt and my head pounded with sudden tension. What was it that I’d seen? What was that blackness? What had attacked him? All of my other visions had been fairly straightforward when they’d come. This one had started that way and then went downhill fast.
“What answer do you think you got, Jason?” I asked quietly.
“That it’s complete bullshit. Just like every other story I’ve looked into around here, it’s all bullshit. Every bit of information you told me is publicly available. You just find out who your mark is, gather as much information as possible, and then feed it back in a spooky setting.”
I was starting to get pissed. Mostly because he was partially right. That was how fortune-telling scams were run. I just happened not to be pulling one.
“Jason, I didn’t research you ahead of time and that stuff about your family and job just came to me. I told you it doesn’t work every time. Just with some people. And it wasn’t all I saw,” I added reluctantly.
He held up his hand in a stop gesture. “Don’t say any more, KC. I really don’t want to hear it. Next thing you’re going to tell me is I’m going to meet a dangerous stranger or take a voyage. Just stop. I don’t think I’m the right man for you. I don’t have the stomach for lies.”
Stung, my eyes blazed with tears. “I think it’s best for you to go now.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve got a story to write.”
Chapter Four
It had been several days since Gabrielle’s dinner party, and I was no closer to answers about why I was here. My mornings all started the same way. I
“And is it all entertainment?” he asked softly. “Will you read for me, KC?”
I shrugged. I could see that tonight was going to hell in a hand basket. Journalist Jason was on the scene. My “maybe” place had turned into a big fat “not-tonight-and-probably-not-ever-in-this-lifetime” place.
“Give me your hand, and I’ll try.” I held my hands out expectantly, and he placed a hand in mine. Instantly there was a flare, and I knew I would be able to read him. Closing my eyes, I pulled my hands back slightly from his and let the heat rise. I don’t know how else to describe it. I held my hands, palm facing palm, about three inches apart, and Jason’s hand hovered between mine. Images and impressions flashed in my mind. “You have one brother, and someone else. Maybe a half sister? I can’t see your mom, but your dad is still important to you.” I concentrated a bit more, there wasn’t much there, almost as though after asking me to read, he’d changed his mind now and was hiding from me.
“This newspaper job is important to you. The article that you’re writing about the sweat lodges is an audition, of sorts. That’s why you want it to be so much more, why you’re digging.”
I quit talking and worked at not reaching out, but rather letting any other impressions flow over me. Suddenly, the images came, a fast-forward slide show. I had a quick image of Jason holding a newspaper, with his article and byline above the fold: Juniper Springs Hoax. Another image appeared of Jason under the bright moonlight, standing alone on the giant boulders that edged the eastern boundary of the Honey House property. A blur of motion as something hit him and took him down. Jason on the ground, his body broken, blood everywhere. Then nothing, just a great blackness. Aw, shit . I hate when I see bad things.
The connection between us went cold and dark. The red-hot connection was doused so abruptly that my hands actually felt icy, and I rubbed them against my legs to warm them.
Jason laughed, a little self-conscious sound before dropping his hand to his side. “So,” he said. “I guess I got my answer.” He wore an expression I’d not seen from him yet. Was that bitterness twisting his handsome face?
My stomach hurt and my head pounded with sudden tension. What was it that I’d seen? What was that blackness? What had attacked him? All of my other visions had been fairly straightforward when they’d come. This one had started that way and then went downhill fast.
“What answer do you think you got, Jason?” I asked quietly.
“That it’s complete bullshit. Just like every other story I’ve looked into around here, it’s all bullshit. Every bit of information you told me is publicly available. You just find out who your mark is, gather as much information as possible, and then feed it back in a spooky setting.”
I was starting to get pissed. Mostly because he was partially right. That was how fortune-telling scams were run. I just happened not to be pulling one.
“Jason, I didn’t research you ahead of time and that stuff about your family and job just came to me. I told you it doesn’t work every time. Just with some people. And it wasn’t all I saw,” I added reluctantly.
He held up his hand in a stop gesture. “Don’t say any more, KC. I really don’t want to hear it. Next thing you’re going to tell me is I’m going to meet a dangerous stranger or take a voyage. Just stop. I don’t think I’m the right man for you. I don’t have the stomach for lies.”
Stung, my eyes blazed with tears. “I think it’s best for you to go now.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve got a story to write.”
Chapter Four
It had been several days since Gabrielle’s dinner party, and I was no closer to answers about why I was here. My mornings all started the same way. I
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