Cloak of Deceit

Chapter Four

Julian drove a rusty old pick-up truck and lived about forty minutes west of Forest Grove, closer to the coast. Most of the ride passed in an awkward silence. I welcomed it. I was still floundering in a sea of new emotions and instincts, too stunned to ask intelligent questions. And I could practically hear the thought processes churning in Julian’s head. Based off of the flickering red haze surrounding him and his tense frown, I was guessing they revolved around me and weren’t necessarily good.

For a while I stole secret, casual glances but then I studied him more openly. He was much more interesting than the drab landscape out the window, and seemed unconcerned with my presence anyway.

The truck’s headlights cut a sharp triangle through the dark two-lane highway. The shadows of the trees loomed over us on either side, reminders of my nightmare.

I trembled, and then reached over and flipped on the radio and fidgeted with the old-style tuning knob. “I wonder if there’s anything about the earthquake.”

“Earthquake?” Julian gave me a quizzical look.

“Yeah, you know, when pressure builds up under the earth’s crust and is relieved by the shifting of its tectonic plates?” I wasn’t sure we were on good enough terms for sarcasm, but it’s my fall back in uncomfortable situations.

He shifted his attention back to the road. “What are you talking about?”

“The earth shook tonight, violently. Didn’t you feel it? My entire dorm evacuated.”

“There was no earthquake.” He wrung his hands around the steering wheel.

Was that anxiety, or frustration? I couldn’t tell. He seemed to run hot and cold, and switch between them quicker than I could track. It was frustrating, and yet—maddeningly—a little enticing. I shouldn’t have been thinking about it at a time like that, but I couldn’t deny that Julian encapsulated most of my girlish fantasies. His dark, sultry looks, and a body built for battle, or more nefarious activities. And he was a nine-point-seven on the brooding-mysterious scale. Which usually got me in shitloads of trouble, or, you know…dead.

I sighed. “Well, there was on my planet. It woke me up out of a nightmare I was having — even with the drugs you gave me.”

Julian’s head swiveled around slowly. He looked me up and down, then jerked his gaze back to the front. “What was the dream about?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “But maybe you could answer some questions for me.”

“All right.” Julian turned the radio off and relaxed back into his seat like he was getting settled for a long talk.

Finally, I thought, wondering where to start. “Who are we running from?”

“The Grigori are a collective of psychics. A hive-mind.” He didn’t offer more, just glanced over, waiting for my next question.

A hive-mind? What if it wasn’t a dream? I sat up and pulled the leather coat tighter around me. The darkness outside the truck’s little bubble of light felt more foreboding than it had a minute before. “Why would they be after me?”

“They can sense when you use your powers. It works like a homing beacon to them.” He turned down a narrow gravel road lined with tall pines. We stopped in front of a ten-foot tall steel gate. Julian rolled down his window to enter a code into the posted keypad. As the gate rattled shut behind us, he turned the headlights off, and we continued on through the dark.

I wasn’t even aware of it, but I had turned in my seat and shifted closer to Julian, watching the shadows around us as if some giant beast would lunge out of them and snatch me up. I shook that thought from my head. “What powers?”