The Fire In My Eyes (17 page)

The day of our departure dawned with little fanfare. I was more than ready to leave, and I wasn't alone. Max was swearing up and down that he wouldn't do anything like this ever again, Lisa and Drew were not on speaking terms again, and Jess was watching Max as if she was planning the best time to strike. I didn't want to get involved in anyone else's drama. Between Nikki and Ripley, I had more than my fair share awaiting my return to Troy.

Max's mother met us as we all carried our luggage downstairs and frowned. “Well, I had hoped that Maximillian would be able to drive all of you home, but I don't believe he'll have room for all of you and your belongings. I'll have my personal assistant bring the Escalade around.”

“Thank you very much for all your hospitality,” Drew said. “Hopefully we didn't cause too much trouble, or make too much of a mess.”

Mrs. Pendleton wrinkled her nose slightly, but didn't deign to respond to Drew. He had probably left that guest room a disaster. Instead, she turned to her son, who was speaking quietly to his sister at the door. “Maximillian, are you prepared to take possession of your reward for this month's assistance?”

“Hell yes. The sooner I can get away from this loony bin, the better,” he snapped. He had been drinking heavily last night. I suspected he had one hell of a hangover.

His mother pressed her lips together, then led us out the door and toward the garage. Max immediately lit a cigarette as we walked outside, puffing away right in front of his mother and sister. Both of them wrinkled their noses. “Your father and I considered your preferences when we were deciding on what to purchase,” Mrs. Pendleton said as we walked. “We discussed it at length, but we're both very pleased with the selection we made. I trust that you will be properly appreciative.”

“As long as it's one of the cars I was looking at,” Max said.

“What were you looking for? Hot rod? Mercedes?” Drew asked.

“I was thinking that,” Max said. “But I don't want to bring anything too expensive to school. That's just asking for trouble, especially in Troy, you know?”

“I hear that. So what did you decide on?” Drew and Max discussed cars and Lisa and Jess spoke in low tones behind us. I found myself walking next to Ariel.

She leaned in, surprising me. “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“About what car he'll get.”

“Something nice,” I said. “I don't think your parents would get him some beater, but I doubt it'll be exactly what he wants. Why? Do you know what he's getting?”

She smiled and held a finger to her lips. I wondered what that was all about. There was probably a surprise in store. I looked over my shoulder at Jess and Lisa. They both glared at me. I sighed and stayed next to Ariel. Stuck in the middle again.

We reached the garage and the door slowly began to open. I heard an engine grumble to life within and when the door fully opened, a car rolled out in front of us. I blinked, just to make sure what I was seeing was real, and not some sort of hallucination.

Max's normal smirk was still there, but his expression was frozen. No one said a word or even made a sound until his lips parted and the lit cigarette tumbled to the ground and went out. “That thing is my new car?”

“Yes,” his mother said. Ariel nudged me and winked. I tried not to laugh out loud.

“This thing?” Max took a step forward and ground his cigarette into the driveway. The driver got out, the same man who had driven us down from Ripley at the beginning of the month. “Are you serious? Is this for real?”

“It's very stylish,” I noted. Drew took three steps to the side, choked, then sprinted to the lawn and fell on the ground, laughing hard enough to cause internal injuries. I stood beside Max and put a hand on his shoulder. “It's a very nice car.”

“It's orange. And ugly.”

“It is not ugly,” his mother snapped. “It is a custom ordered PT Cruiser. A fresh, unique take on the traditional design.”

“Fresh,” Max repeated. “Unique. It's an orange on wheels. Unique?”

“The color, according to the spec sheets, is 'Hot Orange',” Ariel added.

Drew had started to stand up, but at that, collapsed helplessly on the ground again. “Hot Orange!” he shouted, then burst into laughter all over again. Tears were running down his cheeks. Lisa had kept a straight face up until then, but at that point, clutched her stomach and started her own set of hysterics.

“Your father would be so proud,” Mrs. Pendleton said, completely straight-faced.

I started to laugh and Max gave me a dirty look, then walked toward the driver's side of his car. “I need a cigarette or twelve,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack. He tapped one out, put it between his lips with a trembling hand, and then flicked his lighter.

Before he could light it, Jess stepped between him and the car, then plucked the cigarette from his lips. She stared him right in the eyes, then dropped it to the ground and stomped on it. Max's eyes bugged out. She had picked the perfect time to strike. Clever girl.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” he demanded.

“No smoking, asshole,” she said. “I'm calling shotgun, and I sure as hell am not riding all the way back to Troy with you smoking the entire way. It has that awesome new car smell and I will be damned before I let you ruin that for me.”

“Wait, what?” Max's eyes widened even further.

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” She jabbed him in the chest. “You, driver side.” She pointed at herself. “Me, passenger side. Though at this rate, maybe I should drive, since you're obviously too upset to turn the wheel the right way.”

Max's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, then he flushed red. “Like hell I'll let you drive! No crazy chick driver is going to get the first turn in my car!”

“Crazy chick driver?” Jess stepped into him, forcing him to step back. “Oh, you don't want to go there, Maxie. Don't even think about it. I'll break your scrawny little neck.”

While they argued and the other two rolled around on the lawn laughing, I noticed Mrs. Pendleton had a strange little smile. “Something tells me this was all a setup,” I said to her.

“Of course it was,” she said. Her tone was nothing like the formal way she had addressed us over the past month. “Max is my son, and he's a Pendleton. One of our favorite family pastimes is fucking with each other.”

“I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you clearly.”

She laughed and patted my shoulder. No one was paying us a bit of attention. “You'll understand once you have children. I'm most interested in grandchildren right now. I suspect he'll be producing them before Ariel.”

I looked back at Max and Jess. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and flaunted it in front of her. She snatched it from his hand and took a few steps backwards, snapping something right back, then dodged his clumsy lunge. He swore at her, she swore back at him, and then he started chasing her around the car. Before he could catch her, she hauled off and flung the pack of cigarettes as far away as she possibly could. Max let out a cry of anguish and ran for them. Jess gave chase. “You might be right,” I said. “But what about marrying him off? He always rants about taking a job with the family business, being expected to live a certain life. He hates it.”

“I'm sure he does,” his mother said. “But as much as we would like to see him marry someone we approve of and take a job with our company and perhaps take the reins himself, we want to see him live a happy life. Going to that school has given him that. It's such a change from how he used to be, so withdrawn and sullen. He seems happy now. What more could I ask for?”

I nodded. I found myself jealous of my roommate for the first time that I could remember. Max had come from a life of privilege and wealth, but he would be able to live a normal, happy life with the support of his family. I'd never be able to find real happiness, or have the support of my family. I'd be hiding things from friends and family alike for the rest of my life.

Jess and Max returned from finding his cigarette pack, which was clutched firmly in Jess's hands. Both were completely out of breath. Lisa and Drew were out of breath as well, collapsed next to each other on the ground, her hand touching his. Ariel was watching her brother with a wistful smile, as if she was jealous as well. I was alone, surrounded by my closest friends. It was going to be a long trip back to Troy.

The secretary looked over the rim of her glasses as I entered, then nodded toward the double doors. Her silent gaze remained on me as I walked past her desk. I looked back before I opened the doors. Was she one of Ripley's freaks or just a normal secretary? Her eyes weren't glowing, but that didn't mean they couldn't.

I pushed the doors open. They swung inwards without a squeak or even a whisper. Ripley's office was ostentatious, a corner office lined with full-length windows, his desk an enormous, commanding slab set diagonally in the far corner. His chair was equally imposing, tall and broad where the man himself was not, large enough that it seemed it would dwarf whoever was sitting in it.

It did not dwarf Alistair Ripley. As the doors closed behind me, he leaned forward and planted his elbows on his desk. “Mr. Parker. Please, have a seat.”

I walked across the thick carpet and took a seat in one of the three chairs facing his desk, placing my backpack on the floor in front of me. There was nothing on his desk. All that room, and yet there wasn't a computer or a tray or a picture or even a piece of paper. The wood surface was solid and polished to a mirror finish, marred only by a grid of thin grooves.

All of the room's furnishings followed the same sort of simple utilitarian design. The lights were recessed in the ceiling, slanting down slightly toward the corner in which he sat. No pictures hung on the walls. The carpet was plain. Nothing in the room attracted attention. The effect had to be deliberate. When you walked into the office, your focus would belong to whoever was behind that desk, and that person was Alistair Ripley.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“In general? Tired,” I said. I had fallen asleep on the way back to Troy, but sleeping sitting up in the car had left me more tired than I had been when we left. It also threw my body off and left me awake well past midnight, leaving me a wreck for the first day of classes. I had almost blown off meeting with him. Almost, but not quite.

“I was referring to the outcome of your recent adventure,” he said.

“I was exhausted afterwards, but after a good night's sleep and a big lunch, I felt better.” I had recovered much faster than Shade had implied.

He nodded and clasped his hands on the desk. “Good. You'll want to eat and sleep well for the first stage of your training as well. It will be similarly exhausting at first.”

“Sleeping hasn't been easy for me,” I said.

He nodded again. “There are things that haunt my dreams as well.”

That small admission surprised me. Even the great Alistair Ripley could admit to such things from time to time. “Does it get better in time?” I asked.

“All things get better in time. Let's discuss your situation, shall we?” I nodded. He leaned over and I heard a desk drawer sliding open. He produced a single piece of paper and pushed it across the desk to me. “It is a simple notice of the terms of your training. No legal language, tricks, or traps. If you accept the training program, you agree to a term of service with my organization.”

“I already said I'd do it,” I said. “I guess there isn't much to discuss about the review?”

He nodded. “The opposition is not unified. A simple review of the incident resolved that it was accidental and that I took appropriate action to mitigate future damage. Even some of the most vociferously opposed admitted that someone of your strength would be an asset. They may not like it, but they accept it.”

“That doesn't fill me with confidence, but I guess it's too much to ask for everyone to like me, right?” Ripley chuckled and I read the paper. It was just as he said, a simple document explaining that I would perform services for his organization in exchange for training. “So where do I sign?”

“No need.” He held a hand out and I slid the paper across the desk to him. The paper vanished back where it had come from. “Having it witnessed is enough for our purposes.”

“Witnessed?” I twisted around to look over my shoulder. A silhouette lurked behind me, wearing a trench coat, sunglasses, and dark humor. I nearly fell out of my chair. “Shade?” I asked.

“Please, be seated, Shade,” Ripley said. The man sat in the chair next to mine. “Mr. Parker, you'll be delighted to learn that I have assigned you a trainer who you are already familiar with.”

I looked over at him. “You? You're going to be my trainer?”

“Believe me, Parker, I'm just as delighted as you are,” he said.

“Could I possibly get someone who isn't quite as willing to get me killed?” I asked.

Both of them laughed. “Where's your sense of adventure?” Ripley chided me. “Shade is one of our top field operatives. He's currently taking a rotation in our training division. The man deserves a vacation from time to time, wouldn't you agree?”

“Where'd the name Shade come from? The sunglasses?” I asked.

“Don't ask me,” Shade said. “Alistair has a fetish for melodramatic codenames. He'll assign you one if you survive training.”

“I have no concerns about that,” Ripley said. That was an unexpected vote of confidence from the old man. “Whether you'll survive training him is another question altogether.”

“I'm not afraid of a kid,” Shade said.

“You've seen what he's capable of,” Ripley countered.

“Yes, he's freakishly strong. That's why you want me to train him, right? You want someone who can stop him if he slips up and knocks a building over?” Shade chuckled.

It was as if I wasn't even there. “I'm not planning on knocking anything over!”

“You didn't plan on tossing that girl into a wall, either,” Shade pointed out.

“That was an accident!”

“And I'm going to make sure so-called accidents like that don't happen again.”

“Enough.” Ripley's voice whipped out and we both fell silent. “You are both on the same side. Everyone makes mistakes. It is your job to learn from them, and it is his job to make sure you survive to learn from them. Is that understood?” I nodded and saw Shade nodding as well. “Good. For the record, I authorize level one access for Kevin Parker, trainee. Allow me to finally welcome you to the Establishment for Psionic Order.”