He looked over his shoulder at me, and I found that I liked that a whole lot. Was he smirking at me? I was pretty sure he was smirking.
“Are you calling me the best of us?”
“I suppose I meant it in a more metaphorical sense, but if you wanna take it literally, be my guest.”
“I think I’ll choose to believe that the greatest psychic I’ve ever met is complimenting me.”
I flushed at that, trying to avoid the wave of guilt that bubbled up inside of me. I really hated lying to Paul, but now I was so deep in, what else could I do? It would be different if I wasn’t helping, but I was, so why throw that all away by explaining things now? Besides, it wasn’t like I wasn’t an actual oracle, I just had different abilities than everyone thought. And having ADHD sometimes made me feel literally psychic, anyway. Also made me feel literally crazy, but we weren’t talking about that.
“You know, I’ve heard it’s healthy to maintain a positive outlook in life. Bright side, glass half full, and all that.” In truth, I’d read three different studies about that when I was stuck in traffic or on the toilet, but few cared about the finer details of where I found my factoids.
“Then I will try to maintain a sunny disposition while we find out who put the lucrative contract on my youngest brother after the murder of two of my family members.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d think Paul was flirting with me. But he couldn’t be, could he? It surely wasn’t the time for a flirtation, and I certainly wasn’t the girl for a high-ranking wolf shifter like him.
“Yeah,” I agreed, keeping my tone as deadpan as possible. “You can’t let those little things in life keep you down. It’s not like double homicide should ruin your whole week.”
I was well aware that would have crossed the line with some people, but as I watched Paul’s emotions play over his face, I got the impression that he appreciated the candor. He was a straight-laced individual, so maybe my ability to play outside ofthe confines of what was often socially acceptable made him feel a little less constricted.
The way I figured it, if I could give him any sort of relief with everything he was going through, then I was happy to play the fool. Not that it was hard for me.
“Is that your psychic wisdom pouring through?” Paul shot back, his tone just as even as mine, but he was still smirking slightly.
“While the fates are indeed great tutors, that particular nugget is from my own learning at the School of Hard Knocks.”
“Ah, yes. I imagine it was quite difficult growing up with a supportive, famous mother who had the ability to prevent bad things before they happened. I also imagine it’s quite difficult to be gifted with the same power to continue her legacy and live comfortably. Truly, you are a martyr many could learn from.”
It had been so long since I found someone who could keep up with me verbally, and I was getting lost in the rhythm of it. For once, though, it didn’t feel like I had to worry about it. “Perhaps those in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, or was it particularly harrowing to have access to the best resources on this planet and never having to worry about bills and such?”
“Fair enough,” he said, his smile growing bigger. “Although, need I remind you, we are currently investigating the violent murder of my father, who happened to be my last remaining living parent, and my eldest brother?”
“Touché.”
We shared a laugh at that—small and relatively quiet, but genuine. Considering that everything I was doing now was wrapped around deception, I took the authenticity with open arms.
We continued to talk casually all the way to the subway station, however, once we were on our line, we fell quiet. Perhaps it was being in close proximity to so many peoplewho could overhear, perhaps it was just me trying not to get overstimulated at being in a box of sardines that was hurtling at an insane speed. While I wouldn’t say I had a phobia about trains, submarines, subways, or any large, fast vehicle, I also wouldn’t say I was expressly comfortable in them. Especially since they were packed full of layers and layers of emotions of literally thousands of people—some stale and old as a week, whispering to me insistently with their last dregs of staying power; some so bright and brand new I had to shade my eyes from their intensity.
I was, however, less adept at hiding it than I thought, because after a while, Paul leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Fine.” That was a lie, of course. But what else was new?
“Is there a lot of psychic energy here?” he asked.
Not for the first time, I was tempted to confess the reality of my nature and how my power worked. That to me, the relatively quiet car we were in was filled with neon and radical colors, lightning bolts, toxic bubbles, and even the occasional explosion of conflicting feelings.
Instead, I said, “Yeah.”
To my great surprise, his large, intensely warm hands sneaked over to mine, his fingers wrapping around my palm. He gave me several comforting squeezes. It wasn’t quite holding hands, but it was close enough to make my heart flutter.
What, am I in grade school?
He’s not even actually holding my hand!
To think that this explodes into a wolf paw!
~the head bone’s connected to the head bone!~Shifters are kinda wild, really...
Twenty-seven bones in the average human hand!