Chapter 8
"Sweetie? Sweetie, can you hear me?"
The world is hazy, foggy to my ears. My eyelids pry themselves open a crack to see a blur of a figure leaning over me, and a feminine voice saying something.
Crap.
My eyes fly fully open. "I can hear you fine."
The flight attendant jerks back, a hand over her heart. I look at her, confused, and it takes moment to realize she is gaping at the bright green rings in my irises. I'd actually gotten so used to them I'd forgotten it's not a human norm.
"Oh, dear. Your contacts gave me quite a fright."
Right. Contacts.
Slowly, I try sit up. Half my torso is still inside the bathroom, but my upper body is out on the floor in the walkway.
"Do you know what happened?" the flight attendant asks kindly, having recovered.
I clear my throat, and reach up to make sure the beanie is still on my head.
"Dehydration problem," I say, the answer sliding from my lips easily. "It's nothing, really."
The attendant purses her lips in thought, as if considering if she wanted to buy the lie. I flash my most convincing smile. I am, after all, fine.
Out of the corner of my peripheral vision, Sasha is getting up, coming over to check what was wrong. With a flick to the side, I spot Jesse and Eric closely following behind. My smile falters. One teenager collapsing on a flight is sellable as a harmless medical condition. One teenager traveling with others collapsing on a flight and adults will immediately think drugs.
Society works in funny ways. It's almost a breath of fresh air to deal with little, easily avoidable human threats in all this.
«Are you okay?» Jesse asks silently.
I have to ignore him while the flight attendant is studying me closely, wrinkles appearing as her brow lowers.
"How old are you?" she is asking, the first hint of suspicion creeping into her voice, just as I knew it would.
"Twenty-one," I lie, shifting to get up.
The flight attendant stops me with a stern look, although she still wears a mild, polite smile.
"Maybe you shouldn't get up so soon after fainting," she suggests.
«Get back to your seats,» I quickly say to Jesse, not looking at him.
«What?»
«Just get back to your seats. I'm fine. I can handle this.»
I shake my head. "It's fine," I repeat aloud. "I'll be better with a bit of water."
A story quickly fabricates in my head, and it weaves into a place as I begin talking.
"My mom is always telling me I have to strengthen my dosages of medication, but god, I absolutely hate taking pills." I shudder, not completely faked either. "I've been swallowing chemicals recommended doctor after doctor all my life. I thought maybe I could go without it for a while." I sigh heavily. "It's actually my first time out of the country on my own. Guess this is what happens when I don't listen to my mom."
The flight attendant smiles warmly, confirming my guess she's probably a mother too.
Relaxing, she pats my arm, satisfied that perhaps I'm not a teenager terrorist trying to smuggle drugs. "Well, you should, but I guess there's nothing we can do now."
There's a sudden bit of turbulence, and my heart thumps wildly in paranoid that we're being attacked. I hold my breath and clutch the wall, knuckles going white. How far up exactly can Cambions with the energy ability fly? They're dead. Does the cold bother them? Altitude? Oxygen?
The floor shuddered again, but the flight attendant didn't look one bit worried. I ease my hand off the wall, slightly reassured. This is normal for a flight. We aren't being attacked.
"You better go sit back down, sweetie," she says. "I'll get you some water."
Before she can rethink anything, I thank her and scurry off to my seat. I plop down, having to move past Jesse first. It seems he had swapped seats with Sasha, I realize, as Sasha reaches over from the row behind and squeezes my shoulder.
I shut my eyes as I collect everything that just happened, breathing heavily.
"Christ," Eric says. "Why didn't you just influence her to forget?"
"That would have gone beyond influencing," Jesse answers for me. "She had made up her mind on one side already, hadn't she?"
One of these days, I'm going to need him to teach me how to fully compel, not just influence.
My eyes snap open, roaring with adrenaline.
"Doesn't matter," I say tersely. "More important things are going on."
I lean over to the seats in front to wake Courtney and Vee. And then I fill them all in on the rebellion happening in Vendetta House.
***
"Eric?" I ask, breaking the quiet.
It's complete darkness outside the windows of the plane. We're only two hours from landing, and my stiff butt can confirm this is definitely a thirteen-hour flight. Mostly everyone is asleep, including Jesse, whose head had lolled onto my shoulder and I was feeling nice enough to let him keep it there.
"Yeah?" Eric answers sleepily. Sasha is snoring loudly on his lap.
"Remember the girl Aria I was telling you about?" I ask. "Did you know her well?"
"Aria? Not really," Eric says. "Back at the House, most people did tend to stick to those with the same abilities, but there were so many of us animal whisperers we had our own circles."
I stare at the small, blank TV screen in front of me, thinking. "Were there any other animal whisperers... intense like her?" I ask, unsure how to word it. "The vision gave me the sense that she couldn't seem to shut her ability off or something."
"An ability can be a gift or a curse," Eric replies. "Everyone knows that. I'm pretty sure Aria is third-generation. Her powers would be strong already in itself."
"I'm a second-generation," I say flippantly. I state it as a fact, not something to compete over. "I don't hear animals everywhere I go."
"You don't mean to," he says. "Just like you can tune into peoples' thoughts, you can tune into animals' thoughts too. And if you can, why stop at sometimes? Why not always?"
"What's really stopping us all from going insane?" I wonder along with him.
"You know, Ariel," Eric says. "You're actually at a pretty big risk of insanity."
I frown, craning my head to put him slightly in my vision. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Power and control," he says quietly, shrugging. "You have so many abilities. One reason so many telepaths died out was insanity. They offed themselves." His eyes move over to Jesse. "They couldn't take the constant chatter, but they also couldn't bear to turn it off sometimes."
"Jesse would never do that," I say, although he wasn't really talking about him. "I wouldn't either."
"I know that," he says lightly. "But it would be so easy to simply decide you needed to know everything about everyone. The same goes for animal whisperers. Animals make the best spies. Their thoughts are more understandable than humans. But less people go insane from this ability than telepathy is because animal thoughts aren't as complex. They're not judgmental; they're statements. But then they pile on, and you can't take a walk in the garden without thousands of voices bombarding you."
"Do you think that's what it's like for Aria?" I muse.
"I think that's what it's like for every violet-streaked Cambion who can't control themselves."
I turn back, smiling at Eric. "I swear, everytime we have a conversation, it's always really philosophical."
He snorts. "I'm very philosophical."
"Of course you are, Eric."
We drift into silence, and right as I suspect Eric is falling asleep, I open my mouth again.
"Do you think there are animal whisperers out there that don't know they're Cambions?"
It takes Eric a moment to answer. "You mean, they think they're human?"
"Yeah," I say. "What if their parents never told them? What if they never get attacked by Nephilum? They could live their life being a vet or something."
"I suppose," he replies. "I mean, there are about ten thousand Cambions in the world. That's only a bit more than 0.0001% of the world population, really, but out of those, 60% are violet streaked."
My eyes widen. "Wait, really? 60%?"
There's a pause as he nods. "So you can imagine: there are a lot of us. Some people probably would go through life completely oblivious."
It's weird that we were all oblivious once. It's hard to go back to thinking that we haven't always been living like this. A year ago at this time, my idea of fun was crying over fictional characters I was too invested in. Now it's like I'm becoming one.
I sigh. "I envy them."
"What? You'd rather live a boring human life?"
"Well, no," I say, wrinkling my nose. "Don't get me wrong, I love having superpowers." I lean my head back, and raise my palm, lighting a pretty, flickering flame in example. "But we're running for our lives from both Nephilum that live to kill and Cambions that don't know what they're doing. What kind of a life is one that can end any minute?" I quench the flame.
"And what kind of a life is one that is barely living?" Eric retorts. "I certainly don't want to go back to moping on the couch every Friday night and being made fun of in school."
I look at him skeptically. "You want your neck on the line every moment rather than deal with bullies?"
He shrugs one shoulder in confirmation. I guess I've never been afraid of school bullies because I always had means of defense even before I got superpowers.
"You have a death wish," I joke.
"Not a death wish," he says. "But out here I'm actually doing something. There's nothing back home of importance. Besides, I know where my parents are right now. I think I'm the only one here that does."
I sit up straighter, turning to look at him properly. "Wait, what?" I furrow my eyebrows. "You know where they are, and you're not going home?" He has the means to go home and he's not? "Why not?"
He shrugs again. "They don't really need me right now. I mean, I'm still pretty useless with you guys, but I'm more help that none, right?"
"You're not useless," I say immediately.
"I'm pretty useless," Eric says, amused. "Compared to all of you, anyway."
For the first time, I really look at Eric, and consider maybe he's more than just the jokester exterior he builds himself to be.
"That's all just luck," I say. "We were all born with these powers with no choice. In the end, it probably won't even matter."
"In the end, nothing matters."
Eric and I laugh in unison.
"We just got really philosophical," I say.
"Staying up all night can do that to you."
"Eric?" I ask.
"Yeah?"
"You know you're not useless, right?"
He's silent.
"We're a team," I go on. "All of us. Even Courtney, unfortunately."
He gives a single chuckle.
"Okay," he says softly. "Thanks, Ariel."
Suddenly, Jesse bolts up ramrod straight.
"Don't!" he exclaims, stretching out his hand and hitting the TV screen. He blinks slowly, waking up.
"Woah, what were you dreaming of?" I ask.
There's a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, which he wipes away hurriedly. He stares at me for a while.
"I can't remember," he mutters. "I'll be right back."
Jesse pushes off his chair, and leaves.
I frown. "What's with him?"
Eric cranes his head after him thoughtfully. "I'll go check."
He eases Sasha off his lap, putting her head on his seat. She shifts in her sleep, making herself comfortable again. Scrunching his floppy blond hair away from his face, Eric goes after him.
I chew my lip, debating if I want to go eavesdrop. Jesse did look kind of distraught. I decide to get up, but I start moving towards the front of the plane instead of the back like they did. I'm sure he'll tell me if he wants to, right now I just need to stretch my legs.
I pass sleeping humans old and young, some with drool hanging down their chin, some looking so uncomfortable their neck is going to have a killer knot in it when they wake.
I pass a little girl wearing a dress soaked with liquid that is still dripping onto the floor steadily. She reeks of orange juice. There are shredded tissues on her lap, her mom's failed attempt to clean it up. They are both asleep now.
Something about the way they are cuddled together hits my heartstrings, and I twirl my hand subtly by my hip, using my water abilities to pull the orange juice out and evaporate it slowly.
I move on, playing fairy godmother to several other tired passengers. I use telekinesis to close a window stuck open, annoying a girl who couldn't properly go to sleep from the blinking lights on the airplane's wing. A bit of telepathy calms a screaming baby. I fix broken lights by touching them with an energy-charged finger, and warm the blankets of those shivering with cold.
By the time, I'm back in my seat, Jesse and Eric have returned.
"Hey," I greet, swinging into my seat. "You okay?"
He grins brightly. Too brightly. "Fabulous, actually. Should you really be using your abilities in public?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Should you really be changing the subject?"
"I'm not changing the subject," he says. "I'm great. We all get nightmares here and there."
I purse my lips, attempting to read his mind but only hitting a strong block. I turn to Eric, but all his mind is doing is singing a Taylor Swift song.
Sighing, I lay my chin on my palm.
"Are you sure you don't want to tell me?"
I may or may not have woven some influence into that sentence while I batted my eyelashes.
Jesse opens his mouth slightly, then promptly shuts it again.
"Nothing to tell, Princess," he says.
I tug in some stronger influence. Bat my eyelashes harder.
"Are you sure?" I pry.
He bats his eyelashes back, imitating me. "Positive."
I huff. "Be that way."
"Let's watch a movie," he declares, hitting the controls on his armrest, attempting once again to change the subject.
I let him this time.
"We've got an hour and a bit until landing," I point out. "We won't see the ending."
He shrugs. "Oh well."
Jesse tries to select a horror movie, but I hit his arrow button right as he clicks play to change it to a superhero action movie.
"This looks so lame," he whines.
"Too bad," I whine right back. "Look at that guy's arm muscles."
Jesse rolls his eyes, but watches along anyway as I select the same movie on my screen. Even though his started first, somehow, both of ours end up in sync.
Unfortunately though, the plane goes into descent before the hero can beat the villain completely, but they do reach a moment of peace, and that's good enough for me. Absently, I raise the window screen next to me, and see blinking lights.
The captain announces the arrival to San Francisco, along with the time and temperature, though I didn't hear either of them.
"Alright, how are we going to do this?" Courtney asks as the plane crawls to a stop on the runway. "Are we taking a flight to New York City now?"
"Yes," Sasha confirms. "Except, well, we're pretty close to reaching the end of what we have as a plan. What do we do once we get there?"
"Let's figure that out once we get there," I say. "Procrastination always works."
We follow the crowd off the plane, staying slightly separately, since it will be suspicious to see six teenagers with no carry-on luggage apart from one (stolen) laptop.
"What time is it?" I ask.
"I'm guessing 2 or 3 in the morning," Eric answers, glancing out the large windows in the arrival lobby we step into.
"1:46 AM," Jesse corrects.
"How do you know?"
He points to the wall. "There's a clock right there."
"Oh," Eric says.
As a cold gale blows in from somewhere, goosebumps rise all over my arms. My thin layers were obviously a bad idea.
"Okay," I say, trying to stop my chattering teeth. "The good thing about transfer flights is that I'm 50% sure we don't have to pass a security check-out."
We wander around the airport, taking many wrong turns before we finally end up in the departure lounges again. No flights are taking off until morning, so we make ourselves comfortable in some seats. Sasha boots up the laptop again, connecting the the airport wi-fi.
"Okay, before we were so rudely interrupted, I found this," Sasha says, showing us a web page. "There are articles about teenagers going missing, and they're suspecting gang activity because each person has had neon hair."
Gang activity. Yeah right.
"Each profile has turned out to be someone at Vendetta House, but I guess this doesn't tell us much other than the fact some parents are unaware of abduction if they're going to human media."
I nod. "Anything else?"
"Actually," Sasha says. "We found Eric on a missing person's page."
She turns the screen around, and sure enough there's a picture of Eric when he was twelve grinning back at me.
I look at him, chewing in the inside of my cheek. "Are you sure you don't want to try contact your parents?"
He smiles sadly. "They know I'm fine. I think that page is only there because other people got suspicious."
"Speaking of which," I say. "Doesn't anyone else want to contact their parents?"
Courtney scoffs. "I don't have parents to contact anymore."
She says it in a flippant way, but there's so much hurt hidden under than sentence I have to turn away.
"Mine are on the run," Vee says. "I'll attempt contacting them after everything has died down."
I turn to Sasha, who's deep in thought.
"What about you?" I say softly. "It's very possible your mom is at this safe house your sister wanted us to go to."
She shrugs. "I don't know if my mom is alive or not, and I don't want to kindle hope after thinking of her as dead for so long."
I sigh, turning to the empty space on my left.
I suddenly lose my train of thought, as if a haze has covered my mind. Conversation resumes among the others, but I continue blinking, certain I am forgetting something, though I am unsure as to what.
There's a red light going off in my head, and no matter how much I try blow away the fog, it won't give. I inhale sharply. Someone has messed with it; my memories have giant gaps in them.
I sit down, clutching the armrest.
"Ariel?" Sasha asks. "You look more pale than usual. Are you okay?"
I look up, counting our group.
Five. Me, Sasha, Eric, Courtney, and Vee.
That's all there has always been, right?
No, my mind breathes weakly, as if it took effort to do so.
I dig my nails into my forehead, using the pain to force myself through the haze. I put so much energy into breaking that mental restraint, that I collapse right off my chair when I break through with a gasp.
"Oh my god," I breathe.
I scramble up, trying to recall the last time we saw him and coming up blank.
"Jesse. Where's Jesse?"