"Where's Amy?" I asked, circling the couch and dropping into the cushions next to Katherine and Rachel. The day before had been a blur, given to examining every new inch of Meridian in detail or indulging in the amenities, like kids with a new toy.
"Said she was working on something for you." Rachel answered and thumbed the TV remote, switching the channel to public access news.
"She's always busy," Katherine confirmed. "I wish she'd loosen up and join us more often. She swims like an otter, by the way. You should have come with us, Thomas, it was fun."
Rachel nodded. "She and Becca both made me feel like an amateur in the water."
"Admitting defeat?" I asked.
"Not easily. They earned the win, believe me. Now I know why Becca's in such good shape." She hit the remote again and a new talking head appeared on the screen.
"What are you doing?"
Rachel didn't answer, but stubbornly flipped the channel a few more times.
"Rach," I interrupted as she jabbed the remote again.
"I'm looking for something."
Katherine leaned against my chest and pulled my arm around her. "We were trying to find news about Rob and Sloane."
I'd almost forgotten the two students Penny mentioned when she ambushed me outside Tory Hall. I learned from the girls that Sloane had been Katherine's first roommate at BAU until she left to join a sorority a few weeks after the start of their freshman year, and they reminded me about Rob Foster's exploits trying to hook up with Gloria's friend Kennedy.
"Nothing?" I asked.
"Not yet," Rachel answered and changed the channel again. Her expression suggested she was only doing it reflexively.
"You should try the newspapers," I suggested. "I doubt the television would report on two week old stories."
"Already did. These are from Monday. Amy showed us how to access the archive while you were canoodling with Becca."
"She's recording the news?" I asked, ignoring her gibe.
"No, they're already on the Internet, Amy just fucked around with the TV software so it's easier to access."
"Why would she think we'd need that?"
"She didn't," Katherine said, "Finn apparently had it developed a while ago. It took Amy all of five minutes to install it for us."
I watched as Rachel skimmed the local affiliate of a national news channel. "This is from Monday?" I asked.
"Yeah, why?"
"That guy looks familiar." He was a young man, bulky but fit, with dark hair and an arrogant expression.
"From where?" Katherine asked. I couldn't make the connection, but Rachel played it through anyway. He had been arrested for assaulting one of his co-workers after an early morning altercation. The camera paused on his face again, then panned across a highway to rest on a tall, blue and green sign.
"That's Becca's storage unit." I said, then it hit me. "It's Mike. The guy that harassed her when we picked up her things." I usually had a decent memory for faces, but he looked different, wild-eyed and feral.
"No shit?" Rachel blinked. "Looks like she got out just in time."
My heart beat faster recalling the anger and hatred in his eyes and the ice-cold terror I induced with a deluge of power. "Seems that way," I said, beating back the memory. "He was kind of an ass."
"Twice lucky then," Katherine said with a smile. "She got her wish for magic and avoided a closet psychopath in the process. You're her knight in shining armor."
She turned and leaned over me for a kiss, then stood with an exaggerated yawn. "I'm heading to bed."
"I'll be right there," I said.
Katherine shook her head slightly, flicking her eyes toward Rachel. "It's okay, you two have fun, just make sure you wake me when you're ready to turn in."
I caught her meaning. Rachel didn't require additional intimacy as much as reassurance, which sometimes required chipping away at her stubborn pride with subtle affections, like a simple touch or a few extra minutes of conversation. She craved attention, but she was different from Katherine who found satisfaction in flaunting herself. Rachel needed to be pursued, to feel wanted, not just desired.
"Want to watch something?" I asked after Katherine left.
"Yeah, why not. I'm getting nowhere with this."
"What are my choices?"
"Are there any Marvel movies you haven't seen more than twice?"
"Pass," I mumbled. I was still coming to terms with the fact that superpowers were a real thing, and that mine were both ridiculous and dangerous.
"Game of..."
"Hard pass."
"Dude."
"I'm serious. Having an active libido is still new to me, and Bay City is bad enough."
"There's way more sex in Bay City Bae." The corner of her mouth twitched the way Finn's did when she was holding back a laugh.
"I know, but there's more nudity in Thrones."
"Does that mean you like to watch?"
"I'd like to think it means I'm pretty normal."
"Tits or ass?"
"Excuse me?"
"You a tits man or an ass man? Kath has both so it's hard to tell."
"Rach..."
"Just asking."
"You seem to think I'm dumb enough to answer."
"You've seen me naked."
I felt the heat rising in my cheeks but didn't back down. "Yes, I did. Thanks for reminding me."
"Well, did you like it?"
"You've got a great body, Rachel, what do you expect me to say?"
"Not sure. Maybe I asked to find out." She turned back to the television. "We still need to pick something."
I was drawing a blank, so I deflected. "If I weren't sitting here, what would you watch?"
Rachel thought for a few seconds, then launched a movie app and began searching. "I was told a while ago that I needed to see this. No idea what it's about. You down?"
"Fire it up," I nodded, glad to be relieved of the decision, and we sunk into the cushions as the studio logo appeared with its usual fanfare. The title prepared me for an action film, but we ended up with a bland story about an obsessive music student. Rachel tensed up at first, but as it played out, she pressed into me as though we were watching a horror film. I hadn't so much as touched her since that morning and she had to be in decline, so I wasn't shy about stroking her hair or caressing her arm and she didn't pull away.
Despite her obvious efforts to relax, the longer we watched the more restless she became until an hour into the plot, she lunged out of her seat without warning and threw the remote across the room in a single, violent motion. I wasn't able to react immediately, so I froze, wide-eyed, hoping for some sign that she wasn't going to start screaming at me.
"Fucking fuck!" she shouted at the television, then thrust herself into the seat once more, her body rigid, head in her hands. "Cock-sucking bitch-ass cunt-licking motherfucking whore," she muttered.
"Rach?" I tentatively reached out a hand and she leaned into my palm. I breathed a selfish sigh of relief. She wasn't mad at me.
"Brady," she muttered.
"Who?"
"The bitch who told me to watch this piece of shit."
"Uh, I didn't think it was that bad. I mean, it's not really my thing—"
"No," Rachel whirled on me, "It's my thing, and she knows it. Bull fucking shit is what it is, I can't believe her!"
Rachel's eyes glinted like metal, and faster than I could register the movement, she pounced, straddling my lap, and kissed me so hard it hurt. I pushed her back in shock.
"Rach, what are you—"
"I need it now, Tom, I can't do this anymore!"
She kissed me again, wrapping an arm around the back of my head so I couldn't pull away. She was strong, much stronger than I used to be. Panic welled up and I felt the knot of power begun to unravel against my will. I forced it down and pried a few inches between my body and hers.
"Rachel, what's going on? What are you talking about?"
Instead of answering, she tried to pin me down again, and for an instant, I was reminded of Gloria, when blood lust transformed her from a human being into something less, but I was no longer sick and weak, and she couldn't force me. I felt inexplicably calm as she struggled against my grip. After a desperate moment she stiffened, and with supreme effort, broke the impulse that consumed her.
"Son of a bitch," she breathed, trembling from head to toe, and rested her forehead against mine.
I pulled her into a hug intended to reassure and held her without demanding an answer. Whatever she was dealing with was bigger than any hasty words I might come up with. I was certain my father was part of it, but her reaction had been so sudden and fierce that there had to be more.
We sat like that for several minutes, and the intensity of her kiss, along with the weight of her on my lap had made me uncomfortably hard. I was sure she noticed, but she didn't say anything. She didn't move either. When she calmed down enough to speak, her voice was drained of emotion.
"Sorry, Tom. I'm too fucked in the head to deal."
"It's okay, Rach. Do you want to talk about it?"
"Ancient history," she sighed. "My dad was the one who convinced me to go to school."
That seemed a strange place to begin. I knew of Enzo Mecenas only from the few times she talked about her family. Her parents were divorced, and her mother, Everly Ward, had moved with her and her younger brother to New Mexico when Rachel was twelve. Her two older brothers had remained in Puerto Rico with her father.
"I thought you didn't get along with him."
"I do, it's just—" she eased herself off my lap before continuing. "He was a musician. I think that's part of the reason my parents separated, but we bonded over it. He started teaching me guitar when I was six, and for years I sang with him in the evenings. He said I was going to be famous. Nobody ever put stars in my eyes the way he could."
"Have you been back to see him?"
"No, but we stay in touch. When I graduated, dad quit performing and got a desk job to put me through music school. He said I could pay him back when I signed my first record deal." She trailed off. The guitar Katherine had arranged for her birthday, and her reaction to it, suddenly made a lot more sense.
"I tried," she continued. "I started in music theory and took classical guitar on the side. BAU isn't Julliard, but they have a good program. Problem is dad couldn't keep up the payments, so I thought I could help by playing gigs on the weekends. That went tits-up fast. Nothing local pays for shit, and open mic night at the coffee shop got me maybe twenty bucks in tips."
"But you're still at school."
"Scholarships," she sighed. "I applied for everything I could find. Finally played the minority card and got one that covered tuition for a business degree. At least I wasn't out."
"What happened to your music?"
"Got in a fight with dad when I told him I couldn't do it anymore. He said he'd get another job, that he could afford it since my brothers were out of the house, but I wouldn't accept it. I caved in for a bit. Found something off campus that paid well, work I could do in the evenings, but I couldn't keep it. Took the money and bought Willy."
"With money from a summer job?" I boggled at the thought. Her Jeep Wrangler was pristine, with a custom paint job and all the extras. "Why didn't you keep doing it? That would have covered tuition and then some."
"I was a dancer at Tailchasers."
I gaped without replying. Since moving to Meridian, each trip to and from the college took us past a billboard for the popular bar, with its signature hot-pink cat, that advertised strip shows, lap dances, and topless waitresses. Rachel took note of my reaction and nodded.
"It's not a big deal. Most of the girls who work there are students, and you can make obscene bank. Mom and dad both blew a gasket when they found out, but I didn't quit right away."
"Why did you?"
"I didn't feel right flashing my tits in front of guys I sat next to in school. Whole thing was decided for me when I got in trouble with some handsy customers."
"I don't imagine that ended well for them."
"Not so much. But I was out and back to square one, so I sold my guitar and started business school. Dad still sends me checks every month, but I never cash them. Tuition's covered. I took the job as an RA for the free room, and I have enough extra for food. It's been okay."
"Until now."
"Yeah, well it's hard to deal with daddy issues when you're desperate for cock and your only options are an evil psychopath and a prude who's so high strung he won't put out."
Before I could feel the sting, she put her hand on my chest and caught my eye, looking more hurt by her words than I was.
"I'm sorry, Tom, you didn't deserve that. I just. . . I didn't ask Brady to drag all this back into the open when I'm barely keeping my shit together. Then that fucking music room downstairs. . . I wanted to kill that little shit when I saw it. You're the only peace I have left."
"If it wasn't for me," I sighed, "you wouldn't have to deal with it at all."
"Goddammit, don't you dare start!" she fired up again, coldly serious and pissed off. "Yeah, everything is fucked up, but I wouldn't—you have no idea what it's like being on this side, or how I—"
"I know I don't, I'm sorry."
"Fuck you!" she barked, then clenched her jaw, forcing herself to calm down. "Look, just don't apologize. All this shit is complicated, and wishing things were different doesn't help. There's good in it too, and right now I need some of that."
I hugged her, if only to remind her I was on her side, then nodded and met her eyes.
"Can I make a request?"
"You want to feel me up?"
"Can I hear you play—"
"Fuck no." Her reply cut me short.
"Why not?"
"Weren't you listening? That's not who I am anymore. When I put the music away, some of me went with it. I'm not ready to unpack that. Not tonight."
I brushed a cascade of her hair over her shoulder. "Some day?"
"This is why I never talk about it," she huffed, but I waited for an answer. "Maybe, okay? I'm not promising anything while I feel like this. Since I can't talk you into blowing my back out on this couch, will you at least walk me to my room and put me to sleep?"
I joined Katherine after leaving Rachel with a surprisingly successful compulsion and found her sitting on her sofa, reading a paperback.
"That was intense," she said without looking up.
"What was?"
"You and Rachel."
I paused in the doorway, off balance and suspicious. "Were you watching?"
"I didn't have to," she said, and looked up with a smile, patting the sofa next to her. "Come sit with me."
I joined her, and she rested her head on my shoulder. I always felt a few minutes of hesitation with her after kissing the others. Katherine managed it much better than I did, and always waited patiently for me to catch up.
"Remember the day after we made love the first time?" she asked gently. "I told you something had changed, but I wasn't sure what."
"You said you felt kind of down."
"In a way, but I didn't understand it then. I still don't, but parts are starting to make sense. I think I can relate to what you're going through a little better."
"How?"
"I can see the fairy lights." The shock of finding out Rachel used to be a stripper vanished from my mind. My mouth fell open, and Katherine giggled.
"It's muffled, and I doubt it's the same thing. It's like a reflection of what you're experiencing. I can sense when you use your abilities too. Not like before, when I caught the edge of it by accident, it's as if I'm inside, feeling a little of what you feel. And it's not just you."
"What do you mean?"
"I knew Rachel was upset earlier," she shrugged, "and I could tell when she was stressed and when the anxiety broke through. I felt the tension leave her when you used your power."
"To help her sleep," I confirmed, feeling a little thunderstruck. "Are you sure there's not another explanation? This seems weird even for us."
"I didn't say anything before because I wanted to be sure. You second-guess everything, but I promise it's real. This connection isn't just physical anymore."
Miss Gold's earliest warnings about what might happen echoed back, that my Katherine could end up buried beneath my influence, lost to herself, and to me.
"Kath, I'm so sorry. We knew it might—"
"And you're overthinking again," she shushed me with a finger. "I can see exactly where I end and you begin, but even if I couldn't I wouldn't trade this for anything. Getting to live a little inside your head makes me love you even more, and that's got nothing to do with your mojo."
I sat back, confused, but comforted by her words, "I can't read you like that, why doesn't it work both ways?"
"For that," Katherine grinned, "you need to talk to your fairy godmother. Are you tired?"
"Not particularly."
"Good," she stood and pulled me up after her. "Let's go to bed."