Thirty-Five

I

couldn’t get back to sleep. I spent the whispering hours between night and day reading Grace. Much of it didn’t connect together at all. There were articles about the existence of auras, newspaper clippings of people who disappeared, and her handwritten notes.

Dr. M spoke about “categories” of humans, as though there are delineations beyond our known differences such as ethnicity and blood type.

He thinks this difference in certain humans directly relates to a measurable output and exchange of energy. He theorizes that there has been crossbreeding of two groups of humans over thousands of years, resulting in an energy “soup” where some people drain energy from other people. Then there are transmitters—natural givers of energy.

He is seeking “pure” examples of both for genetic testing.

A mysterious doctor sought people like my mom for some kind of genetic testing? I wondered how I could find this doctor and whether she had. I wondered if Dad or Giovanni would know of him.

Through my window, a pink sliver of sunrise crested the horizon. I put the journal in my bag. I hoped Giovanni wouldn’t mind my calling so early. I had to get out of this house, and I wanted to talk to him. My mother’s note seemed to confirm what he’d told me about different breeds of humans, and I had promised to tell him what I learned. I wished there was more to go on than the cryptic “Dr. M” in her notes.

I tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen to use the phone. Giovanni answered on the first ring.

“I’m sorry to call you so early,” I said softly.

“Miss Cora.” His voice sounded groggy, his accent more pronounced. The word Miss came out like meeees. “I hoped you’d call.”

“Though probably not at sunrise.”

“Anytime. Come to have espresso with me. This man does not wake without espresso.”

I could easily imagine him right now: blue eyes, half-lidded from sleep; blond, tousled hair; long body stretched out… I stopped, a fist of guilt punching my stomach. I should never think thoughts like that about Giovanni.

“Okay,” I said, “coffee sounds insane right now. I’m going to go to Christ Church after.” Guilt stabbed me again. Finn wanted to go with me. I supposed I could leave him a note to see if he wanted to meet me there.

“I will take you.”

“I’m not sure. See, Finn and I—”

Giovanni sighed impatiently into the phone. “I know about Finn and you. You don’t need to tell me. I could see it.”

I switched the phone to my other ear. God, he was being irritating. “Good. So, I’ll see you soon. I want to ask you some more questions.”

“I will answer your questions. Of course.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“If…”

“If?”

“You meet me at the church without him.”

“What’s your problem?” My voice sounded too loud to myself, bouncing around the empty kitchen. I whispered, “You don’t even know him. I don’t even know you, for that matter.”

“Have you told him what you are?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, okay, I haven’t told him about us.”

“Then I’d say you and I know each other on a whole other level.”

I faltered, irritated because it was true. It suddenly seemed wrong that I hadn’t told Finn anything about my ability or my strange aura. What was my problem? Nervousness about Faye’s warning, yes. But if I were being brutally honest with myself, it had also been fear that he might think I was really strange. Too different. Would he, this beautiful guy who had his pick of girls, have still fallen for me if he had known? My insecurity would look like distrust from Finn’s perspective.

I should tell him.

“We’ll be meeting at a church, Cora. I think you know you can trust me. I have nothing but your safety in mind, which is why I’d rather he not be there. If you want coffee, come to my hotel at eight. Otherwise, I’ll be at the church at nine.” He hung up. The bastard actually hung up! I stuffed the phone in its cradle.

“Making plans?”

I jumped. Finn stood in the doorway of the kitchen with his guitar hanging from his hand. Fatigue rimmed his eyes and tinted his aura a deep twilight blue. “You’re up early,” I said, trying to sound casual.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

“Looks like we both had someone on our minds.”

I started to come toward him, but his aura shrank back as I approached. “I’m sorry, Finn. I need to go see Giovanni.”

“Obviously.” He stared hard at me, like he was waiting for me to say something. When I didn’t, he blew out a raging, garnet breath. “I heard you, Cora. You said, I haven’t told him about us.” He held up his hands. The look on his face was pure pain. “So, tell me now.”

God. He’d heard me, but he’d misunderstood. “That is not what that comment meant. I’m just going to talk to him. His parents disappeared, too. We’re trying to help each other.”

“With all your things?” he asked, gesturing to my duffel bag at my feet.

“I think it’s smart to have everything with me. Just in case. I don’t really have a choice.”

Finn pulled a chair back from the table and plopped into it. His guitar sang out as he set it a bit roughly on the table. “Life is nothing but choice. Do I get up today or stay in bed? Do I turn left or right? Should I be a doctor and make my parents happy or please myself and study music? Do I stay in Ireland or do I find a way to go back to America to be with a girl who wants to spend time alone with some other bloke?”

“I don’t want him! I want to find out what happened to my mother. I need answers. Don’t you see, Finn? I don’t just need answers about her. I need answers about me. It’s like…life or death important to me. You don’t understand.”

“I understand how important this is to you. We all want to know about ourselves. Where we came from—”

“No, Finn. You don’t understand. You can’t possibly because there are things I’ve kept from you.”

More hurt flashed in his eyes. “Clearly.”

That whipped at the pain rising in me. I couldn’t indulge in it. Finn, his parents, they were distracting me, and I didn’t have much time left. “Seeing you again has been magic, but I didn’t come here for this. For us. You left me, remember? This is all confusing me and getting me off track. I have to do what I came here to do, Finn. I have to go.”

He stood abruptly and crossed the space between us. He took my face in his hands. “Are you trying to say good-bye now, Cora?”

I was right. Our first good-bye had been hard enough.

I swallowed hard, choking on my love for him, and answered. “You’re wrong about Giovanni and me. You have my heart. But my father’s likely on his way, and I have to go right now. I’m sorry.”