mouth turn down. “Not long. He will have narrowed in on the area. He hasn’t worked out who you are yet, but he’ll be watching for any signs.”
“Like?”
“Your powers will reveal you. Don’t use them in front of anyone.”
I grunt. “ There’s no chance of that happening. For a start, I can’t read thoughts,” I tick them off my fingers one by one, “I have no other special powers and I run like a person standing in quick...drying.......cement.”
Oh bugger.
He looks confused. “I don’t understand.”
Tendrils of fear uncurl in my stomach. PE, the race, the freaky running skills.
I can’t let sandal man know . I have to distract him.
“And I don’t understand how to use these ‘special powers’, so I guess we’re even.” I snap, plonking my hands on my hips.
Stubbornness has always been an ally of mine and I gratefully turn to it now.
He mutters to himself. After a while, he turns and with a small shrug says, “I had better teach you to run, little one.”
Little one.
“Don’t call me that,” I whisper through lips too stiff to work properly. “Don’t ever call me that.”
He looks upset. “What? Little one? Why not?”
“ He calls me that in my dream. He calls me that and then drops me into the canyon.”
Green eyes snap to mine and I see rage burning in them. Rage and …
Fire!
Oh shit.
You know when you hear something or see something that you really wish you hadn’t because your life was warm, fuzzy and much less complicated before you witnessed whatever you witnessed? Looking into his eyes, the locks start to tumble in my brain. Unless I’m way off track, I’m looking at my father. My biological father.
I can’t deal with this. Not now. I push the sneaky suspicion to the very back of my mind and with sheer, blind, panic-driven determination, forget it.
Cue one almighty breakdown in the future.
If I have a future.
My life sucks.
“He’s extracting it from your memory.”
“How’s that again?” I ask.
“I used to call you little one. He’s retrieved this information from the depths o f your memory and he’s using it to get at me.”
I splutter. I can’t help myself. I mean, come on; I think that I’ve taken the news that I’m an alien from another planet squarely on the chin. I think under the present circumstances, I’m doing an award winning job of keeping an open mind. But enough is enough. Memory retrieval ? Can they even do that on Star Trek?
“How could I possibly remember you?” I ignore the hurt on his face, because to acknowledge it would be to admit to a fact that I’m no where near ready to handle. “I was still a baby when I left your planet and I haven’t clapped eyes on you since, until today. Not even in my dreams.”
Hold on…
Sandal man allows himself the smallest of smiles. “ You’re thinking with a human mind, with human restrictions. With training, you could remember the day that you were born. It’s all there, in your memory, held back by being on Earth.”
“Yes, well. There’s no need to be smug about it.” I can’t make up my mind if I believe him or not. I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt because an image of a yellow raincoat refuses to budge from my mind. The corners of my mouth twitch upwards. “Oh man, Agatha is going to love this.”
His fingers dig into the soft flabby bit of my arms.
“ Ow! Get off me!”
The fire in his eyes flares and I think that I really do not want to get on this man’s bad side. “You must not say anything,” he insists. “To anybody . It will mean the end of your life if you do. And theirs.”
And I thought Rhiannon was over-dramatic.
“I don’t lie to Humphrey and Agatha.”
Well, not usually.
He shakes me! It hurts and I struggle.
“Camille , Jelly, please. Don’t speak of this; your birthright, your gifts, any of it. This is serious.
“Like?”
“Your powers will reveal you. Don’t use them in front of anyone.”
I grunt. “ There’s no chance of that happening. For a start, I can’t read thoughts,” I tick them off my fingers one by one, “I have no other special powers and I run like a person standing in quick...drying.......cement.”
Oh bugger.
He looks confused. “I don’t understand.”
Tendrils of fear uncurl in my stomach. PE, the race, the freaky running skills.
I can’t let sandal man know . I have to distract him.
“And I don’t understand how to use these ‘special powers’, so I guess we’re even.” I snap, plonking my hands on my hips.
Stubbornness has always been an ally of mine and I gratefully turn to it now.
He mutters to himself. After a while, he turns and with a small shrug says, “I had better teach you to run, little one.”
Little one.
“Don’t call me that,” I whisper through lips too stiff to work properly. “Don’t ever call me that.”
He looks upset. “What? Little one? Why not?”
“ He calls me that in my dream. He calls me that and then drops me into the canyon.”
Green eyes snap to mine and I see rage burning in them. Rage and …
Fire!
Oh shit.
You know when you hear something or see something that you really wish you hadn’t because your life was warm, fuzzy and much less complicated before you witnessed whatever you witnessed? Looking into his eyes, the locks start to tumble in my brain. Unless I’m way off track, I’m looking at my father. My biological father.
I can’t deal with this. Not now. I push the sneaky suspicion to the very back of my mind and with sheer, blind, panic-driven determination, forget it.
Cue one almighty breakdown in the future.
If I have a future.
My life sucks.
“He’s extracting it from your memory.”
“How’s that again?” I ask.
“I used to call you little one. He’s retrieved this information from the depths o f your memory and he’s using it to get at me.”
I splutter. I can’t help myself. I mean, come on; I think that I’ve taken the news that I’m an alien from another planet squarely on the chin. I think under the present circumstances, I’m doing an award winning job of keeping an open mind. But enough is enough. Memory retrieval ? Can they even do that on Star Trek?
“How could I possibly remember you?” I ignore the hurt on his face, because to acknowledge it would be to admit to a fact that I’m no where near ready to handle. “I was still a baby when I left your planet and I haven’t clapped eyes on you since, until today. Not even in my dreams.”
Hold on…
Sandal man allows himself the smallest of smiles. “ You’re thinking with a human mind, with human restrictions. With training, you could remember the day that you were born. It’s all there, in your memory, held back by being on Earth.”
“Yes, well. There’s no need to be smug about it.” I can’t make up my mind if I believe him or not. I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt because an image of a yellow raincoat refuses to budge from my mind. The corners of my mouth twitch upwards. “Oh man, Agatha is going to love this.”
His fingers dig into the soft flabby bit of my arms.
“ Ow! Get off me!”
The fire in his eyes flares and I think that I really do not want to get on this man’s bad side. “You must not say anything,” he insists. “To anybody . It will mean the end of your life if you do. And theirs.”
And I thought Rhiannon was over-dramatic.
“I don’t lie to Humphrey and Agatha.”
Well, not usually.
He shakes me! It hurts and I struggle.
“Camille , Jelly, please. Don’t speak of this; your birthright, your gifts, any of it. This is serious.
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