The whole universe seemed to be hushed and waiting, breath held.
But Rob didn't move. He was on the brink of discovery-but not there yet.
me strange rower
He needs help, Kaitlyn thought. He still doesn't understand what's going on.
It was up to her to show him, to help him take that first step-if she wanted to. And she did. Kaitlyn suddenly felt calm and clear. She saw in her mind what was going to happen, like a picture already finished.
She would cradle his face with her hands and kiss him-very softly. And Rob would look at her with such surprise. So completely innocent-but not stupid. Rob wasn't slow to catch on. After she kissed him the second time, the astonishment would turn to dawning wonder. His golden eyes would start smoldering the way they did when he was angry . . . but for a very different reason.
Then he'd put his arms around her, and kiss her- so lightly-and the energy, the healing energy, would flow between them. And everything would be wonderful.
Breath held, Kaitlyn reached up to touch Rob's face, seeing her own graceful artist's fingers on his jaw.
Even that little contact sent sparks dancing up her palm. It all seemed so simple and natural-as if she knew what to do without thinking. As if she'd always known, in some wise place inside.
Imagine it-Kaitlyn the cold, knowing what to do, feeling so sure. It was all about to happen.
Then voices broke into her reverie. Laughing, ordinary voices that didn't belong at all to the beautiful new world Kaitlyn was inhabiting. She looked up in confusion.
Lewis and Anna were just outside the door. Gabriel was behind them.
"Hey, Kait," Lewis began cheerfully. And then, seeing her face, "Uh, oops."
Anna's dark eyes were stricken and apologetic. "We didn't mean to interrupt," she said, grabbing Lewis's shoulder as if to propel him away.
"A little therapeutic touch in the dark?" Gabriel asked blandly.
Sick dismay swept through Kaitlyn. The discovery, the wonder, in Rob's face was shattered. It had been so fragile, something that was about to be born rather than something that already existed-and now it was gone. Snatched away, leaving only Rob's usual kindness and concern. His affection for Anna and Lewis.
And his hatred for Gabriel.
"Kait had a headache," he said, standing up to face Gabriel directly. "If it's any of your business."
"She seems to be better now," Gabriel observed, looking around him at Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn glared at him with deadly heat.
"It would help if people would leave me alone," she said.
"We were just going," Anna said, her eyes telegraphing her contrition to Kaitlyn. "Come on, Lewis."
"That's right," Rob said, and then, to Kait's utter frustration and disbelief, he walked out the door himself.
"Want me to close this?" he asked.
If it had been a ploy to make sure Gabriel and the others stayed away, Kaitlyn would have understood.
But it wasn't. Rob had reverted completely. The only emotion she could see in his golden eyes now was brotherly affection.
And there was no way to get through to him, no way to change things back. At least for today, it was over.
She didn't know who to be angry with-Gabriel and the others or Rob himself. She might just kill Rob-but she loved him more than ever.
"Yes, please close the door," she said.
When they were all gone, Kaitlyn lay on her bed, watching as cool violet twilight replaced the warm light of afternoon. The room became shadowy, mysterious. She shut her eyes.
A sound alerted her-a sound like paper rustling. Sitting up quickly, she stared around the room. There it was, something white glimmering out of the shadows, creeping in under the door. No, not creeping-being pushed.
Kaitlyn quietly got off the bed and padded to the door. Yellow light from the hallway was shining through the crack beneath the door-and the paper was still moving. She ignored it, grabbed the doorknob, and yanked the door open.
Marisol was kneeling on the hallway floor.
The older girl's chin jerked up, and for a moment her brown eyes met Kaitlyn's. They looked shocked and surly. Then she was on her feet and heading for the stairs.
"Oh, no, you don't!" Fired by all the emotions of the past afternoon, Kait pounced. Frustration, excitement, and fury gave her the strength to seize Marisol and spin her around.
"What were you doing pushing stuff under my door? What is that?" Kaitlyn demanded, pointing to the piece of folded paper lying on the threshold.
Marisol just tossed her hair out of her eyes and looked defiant.
Kaitlyn let go of her long enough to pick up the paper, then blocked her as she headed for the stairway again.
"This is my picture!" It was the one Kait had done yesterday, the one of her own face with the extra eye, the one she'd left on the lab floor.
Except that now it had writing on it.
Scrawled across the bottom in heavy black pen were the words: watch out. this could happen to you.
"Another joke?" Kaitlyn said grimly, drawing herself up.
Marisol, who was several inches taller, just looked down at her with smoldering brown eyes. Kaitlyn, reckless of the consequences, grabbed Marisol's arm and shook her.
"Why are you trying to scare me? Is it because you hate psychics?"
Marisol laughed shortly.
"Do you want me to go away? Is it... oh, I don't know, some jealousy thing or something?" Kaitlyn was desperately groping for a reason that made sense.
Marisol pressed her full lips together.
"Okay, fine," Kaitlyn said, her voice slightly shaky. "I guess I'll just have to go and ask Joyce."
She got halfway to the stairs before Marisol spoke.
"Joyce can't help you. She doesn't know what's really going on. She wasn't around for the pilot study-but I was."
"What's a pilot study?" Kaitlyn asked, without turning.
"Never mind. The point is, you won't get help from Joyce. All she cares about is getting her experiments done, getting her name in the journals. She's blind to what's really happening. That's why Zetes hired her."
"But what does this thing mean?" Kaitlyn asked, shaking the paper.
Silence. Kaitlyn turned around. More silence.
"God, you're dumb," Marisol said at last. "Don't you remember the experiment today? Didn't you wonder at all how you got that picture of the grapes?"
Kaitlyn remembered that kaleidoscopic flood of images. "I assume because I'm psychic," she said, but she could hear the stiff defensiveness in her own voice.
"If you were really psychic, you'd figure out why you're here. And then you'd be on the next plane home."
Kaitlyn had had it with innuendo. "What are you talking about? Why can't you say something straight instead of all this secret stuff?" she almost shouted. "Unless you don't really have anything to say-"