"It's not fair for us to take the good rooms before the others even get here," Anna said, gently but firmly.
"But I need my MTV. I'll die."
"Well, I don't care about cable," Kaitlyn said. "But I'd like a room with northern light-I like to draw in the mornings."
"You haven't heard the worst part-all the rooms have different things," Lewis said. "The one next door is huge, and it's got a king-size bed and a balcony and a Jacuzzi bath. This one has the alcove over there and a private bathroom-but almost no closet. And the two rooms in back have okay closets, but they share a bathroom."
"Well, obviously the biggest room should go to whoever's rooming together-because two of us are going to have to room together," Kaitlyn said.
"Great. I'll room with either of you," Lewis said promptly.
"No, no, no-look, let me go check out the light in the smaller rooms," Kaitlyn said, jumping up.
"Check out the Jacuzzi instead," Lewis called after her.
In the hallway, Kait turned to laugh at him over her shoulder-and ran directly into someone cresting the top of the stairs.
It wasn't a hard knock, but Kaitlyn automatically recoiled, and ran her leg into something hard. Pain flared just behind her knee, rendering her momentarily speechless. She clenched her teeth and glared down at the thing that had hurt her. A nightstand with one sharp-edged drawer pulled out. What was all this furniture doing in the hall, anyway?
"I'm really sorry," a soft southern voice drawled. "Are you all right?"
Kaitlyn looked at the tanned, blond boy who'd run into her. It would be a boy, of course. And a big one, not small and safe like Lewis. The kind of boy who disturbed the space around him, filling the whole hallway with his presence. A very masculine presence -if Anna was a cool wind, this boy was a golden solar flare.
Since ignoring was out of the question, Kaitlyn turned her best glare on him. He returned the look mildly and she realized with a start that his eyes were amber-colored-golden. Just a few shades darker than his hair.
"You are hurt," he said, apparently mistaking the glare for suffering. "Where?" Then he did something that dumbfounded Kaitlyn. He dropped to his knees.
He's going to apologize, she thought wildly. Oh, God, everyone in California is nuts.
But the boy didn't apologize-he didn't even look up at her. He was reaching for her leg.
"This one here, right?" he said in that southern-gentleman voice.
Kaitlyn's mouth opened, but all she could do was stare at him. She was backed against the wall-there was nowhere to escape.
"Back here-this spot?" And then, deftly and unceremoniously, he turned up the skirt of her red dress.
Kaitlyn's mind went into shock. She simply had no experience that had prepared her to deal with this situation-a perfect stranger reaching under her dress in a public place. And it was the way he did it; not like a grabby boy at all, but like . . . like ... a doctor examining a patient.
"It's not a cut. Just a knot," the boy said. He wasn't looking at her or the leg, but down the hallway. His fingers were running lightly over the painful area, as if assessing it. They felt dry but warm-unnaturally warm.
"You'll have a bad bruise if you leave it, though. Why don't you hold still and let me see if I can help?"
This, at last, catapulted Kait out of silence.
"Hold still? Hold still for what. . . ?"
He waved a hand. "Be quiet, now-please."
Kaitlyn was stupefied.
"Yes," the boy said, as if to himself. "I think I can help this some. I'll try."
Kaitlyn held still because she was paralyzed. She could feel his fingers on the back of her knee-a terribly intimate place, extremely tender and vulnerable. Kait couldn't remember anyone touching her there, not even her doctor.
Then the touch changed. It became a burning, tingling feeling. Like slow fire. It was almost like pain, but-Kait gasped. "What are you doing to me? Stop that-what are you doing?"
He spoke in a soft, measured voice, without glancing up. "Channeling energy. Trying."
"I said stop-oh."
"Work with me, now, please. Don't fight me."
Kaitlyn just stared down at the top of his head. His gold-blond hair was unruly, springing in curls and waves.
A strange sensation swept through Kait, flowing up from her knee and through her body, branching out to every blood vessel and capillary. A feeling of refreshment-of renewal. It was like getting a drink of clean, cold water when you were desperately thirsty, or being drenched with delicious icy mist when you were hot. Kaitlyn suddenly felt that until this moment, she had only been half-awake.
The boy was making odd motions now, as if he were brushing lint off the back of her knee. Touch, shake off. Touch, shake off. As if gathering something and then shaking drops of water off his fingers.
Kaitlyn suddenly realized that her pain was completely gone.
"That's it," the boy said cheerfully. "Now if I can just close this off..." He cupped a warm hand around the back of her knee. "There. It shouldn't bruise now."
The boy stood up briskly and brushed off his hands. He was breathing as if he'd just run a race.
Kaitlyn stared at him. She herself felt ready to run a race. She had never felt so refreshed-so alive. At the same time, as she got another glimpse of his face, she thought maybe she ought to sit down.
When he looked back at her, she expected . .. well, she didn't know what. But what she didn't expect was a quick, almost absentminded smile from a boy who was already turning around to leave.
"Sorry about that. Guess I'd better go down and help Joyce with the luggage-before I knock anyone else over." He started down the stairs.
"Wait a minute-who are you? And-"
"Rob." He smiled over his shoulder. "Rob Kessler." He reached the landing, turned, and was gone.
"-and how did you do that?" Kait demanded of empty air.
Rob. Rob Kessler, she thought.
"Hey, Kaitlyn!" It was Lewis's voice from the bedroom. "Are you out there? Hey, Kaitlyn, come quick!"
Kaitlyn hesitated, still looking down the stairs. Then she gathered her self-possession and slowly walked back into the room. Lewis and Anna were in the alcove, looking out the window.
"He's here," Lewis said excitedly, and brought his camera up. "That's got to be him!"
"Who's here?" Kaitlyn asked, hoping no one would look at her too closely. She felt flushed.
"Mr. Zetes," said Lewis. "Joyce said he had a limo."
A black limousine was parked outside the house, one of its rear doors open. A white-haired man stood beside the door, dressed in a greatcoat which Kaitlyn thought must be terribly hot on this Californian afternoon. He had a gold-topped cane-a real gold-topped cane, Kaitlyn thought in fascination.
"Looks like he's brought some friends," Anna said, smiling. Two large black dogs were jumping out of the limo. They started for the bushes but came back at a word from the man and stood on either side of him.
"Cute," Kaitlyn said. "But what's that?" A white van was turning in the driveway. Lettering on its side read department of youth authority.
Lewis brought his camera down, looking awed. "Jeez. That's the California Youth Authority."
"Which is . . . ?"
"It's the last stop. It's where they put the baaaaad boys. The hard-core kids who can't make it at any of the regular juvie places."
Anna's quiet voice said, "You mean it's jail?"
"My dad says it's the place for kids who're on their way to state prison. You know, the murderers and stuff."
"Murderers?" Kait exclaimed. "Well, what's it doing here, then? You don't think . . ." She looked at Anna, who looked back, serenity a bit clouded. Clearly, Anna did think.
They both looked at Lewis, whose almond-shaped eyes were wide.
"I think we'd better get down there," Kaitlyn said.
They hurried downstairs, bursting out onto the wooden porch and trying to look inconspicuous. No one was looking at them, anyway. Mr. Zetes was talking to a khaki-uniformed officer standing by the van.
Kaitlyn could only catch a few words of what was said-"Judge Baldwin's authority" and "CYA ward"
and "rehabilitation."
"... your responsibility," the officer finished, and stepped away from the van's door.
A boy came out. Kaitlyn could feel her eyebrows go up.
He was startlingly handsome-but there was a cold wariness in his face and movements. His hair and eyes were dark, but his skin was rather pale. One of the few people in California without a tan, Kaitlyn thought.
"Chiaroscuro," she murmured.
"What?" Lewis whispered.
"It's an art word. It means 'light and shade'-like in a drawing where you only use black and white." As Kaitlyn finished, she suddenly felt herself shiver. There was something strange about this boy, as if-as if-As if he weren't quite canny, her mind supplied. At least, that's the phrase people back home used to use about you, isn't it?
The van was driving off. Mr. Zetes and the dark-haired boy were walking up to the door.
"Looks like we've got a new housemate," Lewis said under his breath. "Oh, boy."
Mr. Zetes gave a courtly nod to the group on the porch. "I see you're here. I believe everyone has arrived now-if you'll come inside, we can commence with the introductions." He went in, and the two dogs followed him. They were rottweilers, Kaitlyn noted, and rather fierce-looking.
Anna and Lewis stepped back silently as the new boy approached, but Kaitlyn held her ground. She knew what it was like to have people step back when you walked near them. The boy passed very close to her, and turned to give her a direct look as he did. Kaitlyn saw that his eyes weren't black, but a very dark gray. She had the distinct feeling that he wanted to unsettle her, to make her look down.
I wonder what he did to get in prison, she thought, feeling chilled again. She followed the others into the house.
"Mr. Zetes!" Joyce said happily from the living room. She caught the old man's arm, smiling and gesturing with enthusiasm as she spoke to him.
Kait's attention was caught by a blond head near the stairs. Rob Kessler had a duffel bag-her duffel bag-slung over his shoulder. He saw the group that had just come in, and started toward them . . . and then he stopped.
His entire body had stiffened. Kaitlyn followed his gaze down the foyer-to the new boy.
Who was equally stiff. His dark gray eyes were fixed on Rob with complete attention and icy hatred. His body was held as if ready for an attack as Rob came closer.
One of the two rottweilers by Mr. Zetes began to growl.
"Good dog, Carl," Lewis said nervously.
"You," the new boy said to Rob.
"You," Rob said to the new boy.
"You two know each other?" Kaitlyn said to both of them.
Rob spoke without looking away from the other boy's pale, wary face. "From a ways back," he said. He let the duffel bag down with a thump.
"Not a long enough ways," the other boy said. In contrast to Rob's soft southern tones, his voice was harsh and clipped.
Both dogs were growling now.
Well, there goes any chance of harmony between housemates, Kaitlyn thought. She noticed that Mr.
Zetes and Joyce had broken off talking and were looking at the students.
"We all seem to be together," Mr. Zetes said rather dryly, and Joyce said, "Come over here, everybody!
This is the moment I've been waiting for."
Rob and the new boy slowly turned away from each other. Joyce gave the group a brilliant smile as they gathered around. Her aquamarine eyes were sparkling.
"Kids, it's an honor and a privilege to introduce you to the man who brought you all here-the man who's responsible for this project. This is Mr. Zetes."
Kaitlyn felt for a moment as if she ought to applaud. Instead, she murmured "Hello" with the others. Mr.
Zetes bent his head in recognition, and Joyce went on.
"Mr. Zetes, these are the troops. Anna Whiteraven, from Washington." The old man shook hands with her, and with each of them as Joyce introduced them. "Lewis Chao from California. Kaitlyn Fairchild from Ohio. Rob Kessler from North Carolina. And Gabriel Wolfe from . . . here and there."
"Yeah, depending on where the charges are pending," Rob drawled, not quite aloud. Mr. Zetes gave him a piercing look.
"Gabriel has been released into my custody," he said. "His parole allows him to go to school; for the rest of the time, he's confined to this house. He knows what will happen if he tries to violate those conditions
-don't you, Gabriel?"
Gabriel's dark gray eyes moved from Rob to Mr. Zetes. He said one word, expressionlessly. "Yes."
"Good." Mr. Zetes looked at the rest of the group. "While you're here, I expect you all to try to get along. I don't think any of you can realize, at your age, just how great a gift has been given to you. "Your one job here is to see that you use that gift wisely, and make the most of it."
Now for the pep talk, Kait thought, studying Mr. Zetes. He had an impressive shock of white hair on his handsome old head and a broad and benevolent brow. Kaitlyn thought suddenly, I know what he looks like. He looks like Little Lord Fauntleroy's grandfather, the earl.
But the earl wasn't giving any ordinary pep talk. "One thing you need to realize from the start is that you're different from the rest of humanity. You've been . . . chosen. Branded. You'll never be like other people, so there's no reason even to try. You follow different laws."
Kaitlyn felt her eyebrows pull together. Joyce had said similar things, but somehow Mr. Zetes's words had another tone. She wasn't sure she liked it.
"You have something inside you that won't be repressed. A hidden power that burns like a flame," he went on. "You're superior to the rest of humanity- don't ever forget that."
Is he trying to flatter us? Kait wondered. Because if he is, it isn't working. It all sounds . . . hollow, somehow.
"You are the pioneers in an exploration that has infinite possibilities. The work you do here may change the way the entire world looks at psychic powers-it may change the way the human race looks at itself.
You young people are actually in a position to benefit all humankind."
Suddenly Kait felt the need to draw.
Not the ordinary need, like the desire she'd had to draw Lewis and Anna. This was the need that came with an itch in her hand-and the internal shiver that meant a premonition.
But she couldn't just walk away while Mr. Zetes was talking. She glanced around the room in distraction-and met Gabriel's eyes.
Right now those eyes looked dark and wicked, as if something in Mr. Zetes's speech amused him.
Amused him in a cynical way.
With a shock, Kaitlyn realized that he looked as if he also found Mr. Zetes's words hollow. And the way he was gazing at her seemed to show that he knew she did, too.
Kaitlyn felt herself flushing. She looked quickly back at Mr. Zetes, freezing her face into an interested, deferential expression. After all, he was the one paying her scholarship. He might be a little eccentric, but he obviously had a good heart.
By the time the speech was over, her need to draw was gone.