21 Shades of Night, page 382
He was standing in the kitchen, staring at the back door. He turned and paced the room a few times before coming to stand in front of me at the stairs. I saw the hard set of his jaw, the deep line near his eyebrow visible.
"I'm done with you." It came out like a growl. "I don't need your fickle bullshit. You're a fucking ice queen, Allie, and I don't want you in my life."
Fear sliced through me as he took a step closer. I held his stare, hoping that he didn't notice my trembling. I tried to count the seconds as we stood there, but the moment seemed to stretch on to infinity. With a small grunt, he spun away from me and stalked out of the house, leaving only the echo of a slammed door behind him.
Chapter 9
HARDING TURNED HIS head from the river and grinned at me. "We're just out here to mope, aren't we?"
"This is prime moping real estate. I could rent it out by the hour." My tone was flat and I was compelled to look away from him. I gazed out along the river, tracing its slow, steady path toward the Hudson. The orange glow of the early morning sun sifted through the trees, spraying across the water like liquid gold.
"It's been a month, you know."
I nodded, but didn't look up from the water. "I know."
"You've wasted a whole month, Allie." His tone was hard and I whipped my head around to look at him. The smile had vanished completely.
"What? What are you talking about?" My words caught in my throat and my shaking hands betrayed me.
"When I met you, you were so...lively. You liked to go to the city, go out to eat. You had ambition. Two weeks before the school year let out, you were telling me about all these plans you had for the coming summer."
"That was before."
"Before what? Before the breakup?"
"It's kind of a major thing for me, Harding." I stood up from the rocky soil along the riverbank, brushing off the backs of my legs.
"What are you? Seventeen? You can't let it shut you down this much, Allie."
"Don't you dare lecture me, Harding!" I spun on my heels and hurried toward the path that led back to my house. "You can't show up here at the crack of dawn and start in on me!"
"Please, listen to me." He fell in step with me. "I know you're not handling your time off very well. You like to work. I get it. And I know you think your relationship was a failure, but you're wasting this time you have."
I stopped inside the cool shade of the oak trees. "Who are you to tell me that?"
“Maybe I’m the only one who can tell you that. Enjoy the break. Spend time with your grandfather. He's not getting better, Allie. Hell, he's not even staying the course. Each day, he's slipping a little bit more, and you don't know what the next day will bring. It'd kill him if he knew that you were just moping around here. I knew him before he was so sick, remember. He wouldn't want you to live this way." He grabbed me by the shoulders and gave me a shake. "You have got to snap out of this funk you've put yourself in."
I remembered a similar conversation we'd had a few weeks prior. I had brushed him off then, content with my newly adopted schedule of sleeping in and hiding out in the house for long stretches of time. This time, however, the urgency in his voice struck me.
"I don’t think I know how.”
"When was the last time you left the house?"
"Yesterday - I went to the store to get something for dinner."
He rolled his eyes. "Aside from running an errand, when was the last time you left the house?"
I remained silent and looked away from him, ashamed at how I was behaving.
He nudged me with his shoulder and I looked back at him, blood rushing to my cheeks.
"Come to New York with me."
"To do what?" I asked, surprised.
"Anything you want. I've got use of a friend's loft for the weekend. It’ll help you shake off this thing with Colin and when we get back, we’ll figure out a way to make the most of this time with your grandfather."
Something struck me as strange about his request - we'd never spent so much time together before. "I'm not sure..."
"It'll be fun.“ He gave me a million-dollar grin and waggled his eyebrows. “You can go shopping."
I did have a fondness for shopping. I threw my hands in the air and shook my head. "Fine. Let me think about it."
* * *
HARDING LEFT SOMETIME later, after making me promise I'd call him around lunchtime. I wandered the house, feeling restless and not a little confused. The place was a mess: dishes stacked up in the kitchen, unopened mail piled on the table. I surveyed the damage of the last four weeks, wondering what the hell I'd been thinking.
Determined to get at least something straightened out, I began slowly working my way through the old cottage.
By the time I'd hauled the last bulging trash bag to the garage, my phone was beeping spastically with Harding's attempts to reach me. I grabbed it off the counter and quickly called him back.
"It's only three o'clock, you know," I said, as soon as he'd answered.
"You were supposed to call me hours ago!"
"I'm sorry. I've been doing some work around the house and I got distracted."
"Oh."
"And if it's still alright with you, I'd like to go to New York. I've got something in mind."
* * *
THE DOORBELL RANG promptly at five and I threw open the door with quite a bit more energy than I'd planned.
"What are you wearing?" Harding asked, by way of greeting.
I looked down at my t-shirt and grinned. "Do you like it?" I'd ordered the shirt online weeks ago. It was bright red with "Expendable" written across the chest.
"I don't get it."
I waved my hand across the shirt and stood aside so he could enter the house. "It's a Red Shirt. You know. From Star Trek."
Harding stopped in the living room and stared at me, eyes wide. "What are we doing? Is this a convention kind of thing?"
"Of course not. I don't go to conventions any more." I picked up my light jacket and my bag from the sofa and grinned at him again. A wave of excitement had formed in my stomach and I was determined to ride it out.
He narrowed his eyes at me and opened the front door for me. "I can't help but feel like this is going to end badly for me."
* * *
"WHAT ARE WE doing? I think you can tell me now." His voice was tight as he gestured to the building. We had come to a stop in front of a small corner parish church. Harding had speculated for the entirety of the trip and now stood fidgeting as he waited for my reply.
I grinned at him, finally ready to share the surprise. "We're attending a meeting of paranormal conspiracy theorists."
He raised his eyebrows, but didn't respond. I saw a flicker of annoyance in his eyes, combined with… fear? Was he shy about the group? Afraid of being recognized and embarrassed at being seen at such a silly, unprofessional gathering? Guilt settled over me like an old coat and I second-guessed my decision at coming here tonight.
I blew out a breath as Harding reached around me to open the wrought-iron gate in the fence surrounding the small churchyard and motioned me through. Too late to change plans now.
An old felt sign hung outside a narrow green door set into the stone wall of the building and I stifled a giggle as I read the words:
AFS - Weekly Meeting – 7:30pm
AFS. Nathan Carter had told me they publicly called themselves the Association of Freethinking Scientists, a name created to hide the “true” purpose of the group. The ParaLine moniker was reserved solely for the online forums. I followed Harding down a set of concrete steps to the basement, my shoes squeaking on the inset rubber treads as we walked.
A gray-haired priest sporting a roman collar and the traditional black garb of his occupation was waiting outside the only open meeting room in the church basement. He gave us a stern look and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Mitchell,” he said. His voice grew stiff as he nodded at Harding. “We were told not to expect you this evening–we haven't seen you in weeks. You know this is against Carter’s rules. No surprises.”
I looked at Harding and raised my eyebrows.
“Sorry, Father McCullough,” Harding answered, without acknowledging me. “Little miscommunication between Allie and me here.” He waved his hand toward me and I smiled at the priest.
His eyes brightened. “Ah, of course! Carter’s friend! We’ve heard good things about you, Allie. Heard you’re fighting the good fight.”
I bit my lip as I tried not to laugh. I had no idea what he was talking about, but figured it was better to go with the flow. I took the neon-green piece of paper Father McCullough offered me and followed Harding into the meeting room.
Two rows of folding chairs were assembled on either side of a narrow aisle, all facing toward a podium. I gazed around the room as Harding led me to two chairs in the last row, noting the small card table loaded down with jugs of red fruit punch and snack cakes. Nearly everyone else in the room was clustered around the table, save for a small man standing at the podium.
I looked him over as I took my seat. He was shorter than average, but had deep golden blond hair and the sort of square jaw line that probably made a lot of women ignore his height. He wore wire-frame glasses and a burnt-orange t-shirt. There was something almost magnetic about him. Even the group members gathered at the back of the room kept turning their heads to look at him. It had to be Nathan Carter.
He looked up from his podium as Harding sat in the folding chair and a wide grin replaced the echo of concentration.
“Mitchell!” He dropped from the podium and strode over to us, grin still in place. “Fantastic that you’re here – I didn’t expect you tonight! And I see you’ve already met our guest of honor.”
I shoved down the surprise at his recognition of Harding, promising myself that I'd find ample time for lots and lots of questions later. Harding was obviously hiding something from me, but at least his unease at coming in made more sense. Maybe I wasn't the only serious scientist that loved weird theories after all.
Carter thumped Harding on the back before extending his hand to me. “Nate Carter. It’s great to finally meet you, Allie.”
I grasped his hand and forced myself not to pull away. As soon as I'd touched him, a weird vibe had worked its way up my spine and I felt a tingle around my eyes. The little auras were back, bringing deep purple starbursts to the corners of my vision. I knew I would need to figure something out soon. The auras were happening more frequently, and the headaches that sometimes came with them. Forcing myself to ignore them for now, I gave him my best smile. “It’s great to meet you, too. You can thank Mitchell here for getting me out of the house.”
“You two know each other?” Carter’s eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline.
“Unfortunately,” I said, giving a little wink and hoping my light tone hid the nervousness in my voice. I was starting to forget why I thought this was a good idea. I looked down at Harding as he shifted around in his chair. Maybe I wasn't the only person Carter made nervous. “Mitchell’s an old friend of mine.”
“What a small world,” Carter replied. “Connections in high places, my friend. Sam and Mia will be jealous.”
Harding rolled his eyes and gave my forearm an awkward little pat. “Nothing to be jealous of, I promise. Allie’s not nearly as high on the internet totem pole as she likes to think.”
“Hey, now," I countered. "I wasn’t the one that started throwing my name around as some great internet celebrity. I write a very rarely read column on an obscure website.” I took my seat again as Carter dropped in the seat next to Harding. The weird vibe from Carter dampened with Harding between us.
“Have you had a chance to meet everyone yet?” Carter asked.
I shook my head. Despite my confidence coming into the meeting, I was starting to feel like maybe I didn't want to meet everyone. My yoga pants, dirty dishes and very empty house felt more appealing with each passing moment.
“Some ambassador you are.” Carter’s eyes were twinkling as he smirked at Harding and I wondered at the man’s boundless enthusiasm. On the surface, he was all smiles and laughter, but there was something else simmering underneath.
Whatever it was, I didn't have much time to ponder it. He stood again and motioned for me to follow him. “I’ll introduce you around. Have you looked at the agenda yet?” He gestured to the neon green paper.
“No, I’m really terrible at this whole meeting new people and doing new things…thing.” I felt the heat creep over my face and fanned myself for a moment with the agenda.
He gave me a wink and led me across to the group clustered around the snacks. “Guys, looks like our special guest showed after all.”
En masse, they turned to look at me and I shifted my feet. I hated being on display. "Um. Hello," I said, managing to squeak out the words in a completely unnatural voice.
Not counting Harding and me, there were eight attendees for the meeting. I doubted I'd ever seen a more varied group in my life and I tried to keep my face smooth as Carter introduced me around the circle.
"This is Sam Ellis and his wife, Mia," Carter said, gesturing to a short couple who looked more like twins than husband and wife. They wore matching rimless glasses with large, thick lenses and both had the pale skin of people who'd spent too much time in front of computer screens. "Sam and Mia are our researchers.”
Sam wiped the back of his hand under his nose as Mia gave me a large grin and stuck her hand out. "Pleased to meet you," she said, her smile not waning a bit. "I'm a huge fan."
"You really think that article was a good idea?" Sam asked, cutting off his wife. "I mean, Le Conseil Cimme is nothing to mess around with. People have disappeared for saying a lot less."
I swallowed. In a fit of boredom about two weeks ago, I'd taken Carter's advice to heart and researched and published a piece on the whole Le Conseil conspiracy. Even though nothing I'd come across had changed my mind, I had been shocked at just how much information was out there. These eight people were not alone in their interest.
"Now, Sam, we talked about this." A tall black woman sporting gray curls down to the middle of her back stepped in between Sam and me. "Ms. Allie is here to get a feel for us. We all agreed we'd try to avoid bugging her with all of our ideas." She turned a careful, prim smile on me and inclined her head. Immediately, some of the twisted nervousness in my stomach slid away.
Carter nodded at the woman. "This is Ms. Emma Hayes. She's our recorder."
I held out my hand and she grasped it lightly, shaking once. "Pleased to meet you," I said, echoing Mia's earlier words.
"It's nice to know you, dear." She stepped away from the group then and glided toward the front of the room. I watched as she acknowledged Harding with a small nod and took a seat in the front row.
Carter tapped me on the shoulder and I turned my attention back to the group. "This is Chris Nye and Gerry Yager," he said, pointing to two men standing toward the back of the assembled members.
"What's your job?" I asked, unsure if I was even using the right terminology.
The man called Chris turned red and stepped further back while the man named Gerry stepped forward and narrowed his eyes. "It's my job to be worried about who you really are and why you're asking questions."
A small noise erupted from the vicinity of Emma Hayes. "Now, Gerry. You won't talk to our guest that way either. I swear, if you and Sam were my boys, I don't know what I'd do with you." When I turned to look at her, she had risen from her seat and was coming back to the assembled members. "This is not how we behave," she added, as she reached us. She had her hands on her hips and seemed much taller than she had been a few moments prior.
Gerry turned away from her and ducked his head. "Sorry, ma'am."
"It's not me you should be apologizing to," Emma stated and nodded in my direction. "You answer her question. That's why we asked her here, so she could get a better idea of what we're really like and see what people are really worried about. It won't do to behave like a suspicious old coot."
Gerry held out his hand. "Gerry Yager. I'm a guardian." He narrowed his eyes as I shook his hand and I wondered if he was judging even my handshake. "It's my job to make sure we aren't being tracked or infiltrated in some way. I always have to know who knows about us, what they know and what they're doing with that information. Chris is my deputy."
I blinked a couple times, amazed at the difference between this man and the other members of the group. I also couldn't help but wonder what he thought of Harding.
"And you met Father McCullough, of course," Carter said, pulling my attention away from Gerry. The priest had come into the meeting room and locked the door behind him. "That's everyone. We're small, but varied."
A few of the other group members lingered, chuckling at Carter's description. The rest had moved away, taking seats close to the podium. A small scuffle arose between Chris and Gerry as Chris dropped into the empty chair next to mine. Gerry took the seat at the end of the row, next to Harding, and glared at his "deputy."
I bit my lip as I retook my seat, trying not to look at Harding for fear I'd burst out laughing. It only took a few moments for everyone else to be seated and Carter resumed his position at the podium.
"Now, I'm assuming everyone had a moment to look at the agenda for today's meeting. Even though Allie has joined us tonight, I'd like to keep on point as much as possible. She’s here as a guest, and we’re not going to put her on trial just yet.” He got a few chuckles out of the group before moving onto the next order of business.
I dropped my eyes from Carter to the agenda as he continued on through his opening, scanning over the page.
June 12, 2010
NC, -presiding
EH - recording
GY, CN – oversight
