“So tell me.”
“Obviously, sex was a bad idea,” he said, ignoring that. “You’re not sophisticated enough to separate physical pleasure from emotional attachment.”
“As if you are,” she returned. “You sniff my hair when you think I’m asleep. I sense you watching me all the time. You’re worried and committed to protecting me. Did you really think I hadn’t noticed? I’m clever, remember? Give me a column of numbers to add, and I’ll prove it.”
“I will not argue this with you.”
“Of course not. Anger is an emotion, too. And you’re not supposed to have any. You’re dead, after all. You died when you lost your little girl.”
He whirled on her then, eyes blazing feral silver. “Do not speak. Not one more word. You don’t understand. You can’t.”
Mia pushed to her feet as well, knowing that provoking him would be a calculated risk. He might not forgive her what came next. “No, I don’t, because I’ve never lost a child. I have lost my father, who loved me better than my mother, who insisted on custody out of spite. I know what it’s like to miss someone. I can’t know more because you won’t tell me. Because you’re just a sad shell of a man who eats and fucks. Right?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Right.”
“Nothing matters more than repaying those who hurt you. So what does it matter if you leave me dying in your wake?” Push, push, push. With each word, she could see him teetering closer to the edge. Hating herself, Mia went on ruthlessly, “Someone like you doesn’t build. What good ever came of you? You only destroy: lives, dreams, hearts. You’re nothing but a human tsunami.”
She knew she was right by his stricken, furious look. Her acuity could be targeted elsewhere, not just on numbers, and now she’d drawn the poison of his silent self hate. Nothing he would ever speak aloud, and so she told it to him in all its darkness.
“Ah,” he said. “It appears you do know me. And what does that make you, Mia? That you could profess to love such a creature?”
“It makes me human.”
But he didn’t seem to hear her. “You want the truth?” At her nod, he smashed a kerosene lamp to the floor. “Fine, since you have no illusions to shatter. Out of pride, I suppose, I wanted to spare you this, but you see me clearer than I’d realized. I always knew you were too damned smart. They performed no experiments on Lexie. I did that to her.” In a flat voice, he related events that left Mia weak-kneed with regret.
No wonder. No wonder the guilt. No wonder he couldn’t stop. Deep down, he blamed himself, and suicide had already failed. Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She would be stronger than that. She had to be, for his sake.
“Accidents happen,” she said quietly. “They happen to parents without any special ability. How do you know your gift had anything to do with it? Did she stop and look before she crossed the road?”
“She saw only me.”
“But if she had looked, perhaps she would’ve seen the car as well as the illusionary ice cream. I know you don’t have perfect control, but why in the world would you want to hide a car from her?”
“I don’t have anything to do with it. I can’t construct other people’s base expectations. I’ve simply learned to shift them to my advantage via my movements, behavior, and wardrobe. So if she expected the street to be clear and I was nearby, then that’s what she saw.”
Mia thought she might be getting somewhere. She couldn’t falter now, so she steeled herself to the misery that lay beneath his anger. “Why would she have any expectations at all regarding the road?”
His first hesitation. “I don’t know.”
“So you concede that she might’ve seen the car, if she had stopped to look. Søren, I’m so sorry for your loss, I am, but it doesn’t track logically that this same accident couldn’t have occurred to another family on your street. One bereft of weird abilities.
“It still would’ve been a tragedy, and my heart is broken on your behalf, but you must accept that you didn’t do this. You loved her. Thinking about how you’ve cared for her all these years, it makes me want to cry. And the way you adopted Beulah as your own? It reveals you. You’ve been walking a dark road alone for a long time, but you’re not a bad person. If anything, you feel too deeply.” She gave a watery smile, tears barely held at bay. “That’s a hell of a kryptonite for any superhero. No wonder you buried any sign of it under layers of ice.”
“Can we stop now?” You’ve eviscerated me, his eyes said.
“Sure. I can’t persuade you I’m right. But in time you may accept that I am.”
He grunted in answer.
Reluctantly, she let the matter drop. Silence, punctuated with remote birdsong, reigned in the cabin. They had been here for a couple of days, and the peace had seeped into her soul. She understood now why he loved this spot, but hiding wouldn’t make their problems go away. And sex was out of the question right now; she was lucky he hadn’t put her outside for the bears yet.
So she changed the subject. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad we’re safe. But I’m wondering what we can accomplish out here.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Would I?”
“Does this mean I’m supposed to show you now?”
She wondered if it was too soon for a joke. “Well, I think I’ve seen everything else.”
“Are you saying you’re bored with… everything else?” In a few scant moments, Søren had lost his sharpness, his anger, everything that fueled him.
“No. Just eager to put this behind us. If we can.” Mia was none too sure.
“We will. Regardless of blame, I must finish what I’ve started, but I promise you will take no lasting harm from your time with me.”
Time, as in limited. Pain lodged inside her sternum. After what she’d done to him, doubtless she deserved it. To cover, she said, “That’s good to know. You had something to show me?”
Søren felt as though she’d flayed him with her tongue.
God knew he should be furious. And he had been. But now he was something else, somewhere between bitterness and loss. The mood left a salty flavor on his tongue.
He escaped gratefully to the car, where he withdrew a case. The circular object inside he affixed to the roof and then made the necessary connections. Next, he fetched his laptop, which he connected to the device on the roof. The mountain air held a chill, so he slid into the passenger seat and ran the cable through the lowered window.
But instead of getting to work, he stared off into the trees. Pines marched in stately rows all around him; he could picture what they’d look like from the summit, though from right here, he saw only a green tangle. That seemed particularly apropos.
He couldn’t begin to sort the emotional snarl Mia had created with her quiet, brave declaration: because her I love you wasn’t-couldn’t-be true. He didn’t dare place any faith in it. Some women just had a tendency to attach to men they couldn’t have, and he was more untouchable than most.
With a faint sigh, he powered up the laptop. Before departing, he’d set up a forward, filtered through a number of servers, to receive any incoming mail. He suspected their enemies would make contact directly, trying to lure them out into the open.
He checked old accounts first, men he had been in previous lives. Those names were quiet like the grave. But when he pulled up the Thomas Strong file, he had five messages waiting. The first two were banal, involving company business.
We await your decision regarding the donation. Your efforts will save a life. Too late on that one, even if he were AB negative. He hoped they’d found an alternative source.
It has come to my attention there has been potential misconduct between you and a member of our IT department. Please contact me at your earliest convenience. That one was from Frederick Collins, the director of operations. He smiled reluctantly; he supposed tying a subordinate employee to his bed might constitute harassment in the usual course. But how did they know? That presented some interesting questions.