SEVEN
stood beside his car in the school parking lot. Anya showed up on time. It was slightly strange not seeing her with her friends. The three of them have been glued to the hip since middle school. Even though Tristan didn’t always remember their names, their faces were always familiar.
As he watched her cross the parking lot, he wondered how he’d missed it. He had classes with that girl since they were twelve years old and he never once thought she was like them. In his tracker training, he was taught to look for specific things when trying to recognize anomalous habits. They were mostly loners who enjoyed separating themselves from others, but not quite troublemakers. They never participated in extracurricular activities, and hardly ever called attention to themselves in any way. In some cases, they would also avoid eye contact as much as possible. One red flag was their interest in DNA altering.
The more Tristan thought about it, the more he recognized that Anya did fit that profile. She always sat in the back of the class. Even though she wasn’t a loner, she never branched out beyond her two close friends. But thinking back to lunch, her friend was studying altering DNA. She was smart to befriend humans. It was a good way to camouflage her true nature. He wondered if her friends knew her secret. The idea that the other anomalous could be hiding so well made Tristan feel uneasy.
Still, he was going to keep his word and not turn her in. That didn’t mean he approved of her kind. She was just as dangerous as the rest of them, but, at least, she wasn’t an imminent threat to anyone. But he would find a way to keep an eye on her. If she stepped out of line in any way, they would both pay the price.
“Let’s go,” he said, unlocking the door as she approached.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Wait, we’re going now? But the bell is about to ring.”
“The clinic has fewer people in the morning,” he said, opening the driver’s door. “Unless you want to get caught again? I can’t promise the next guy will be as nice as me, though.”
“Oh, this is you being nice?” She let out a chuckle. “Good to know.”
He rolled his eyes and got behind the wheel. The engine roared to life. A feeling of betrayal was stabbing at his chest. He hated the idea of looking the other way while an anomalous walked free, but he was a man of his word, and if she kept her end of the deal, so would he.
“We’ll need to make a stop,” Anya added.
Tristan arched a curious brow. “Where?”
Anya glanced at him briefly, then looked out her window. “A flower shop.”
The clinic was empty, just as Tristan predicted. Only one nurse was at the front desk, and she greeted him without looking up from her computer. Not that it would’ve been strange to see him bringing his mother flowers, but ten bouquets were a bit much, even for him. He wasn’t entirely sure how to explain if anyone asked, other than her anniversary was coming up and he wanted to do something special. Thankfully, no one asked. No one even looked in their direction.
Tristan opened the door to his mother’s room and stepped aside, allowing Anya to enter ahead of him. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. He closed the door behind them and turned around to find Anya staring at his mother. Her gentle eyes caught him off guard. He’d never seen anyone look at his mother that way. No one except for him.
“She’s beautiful,” Anya uttered softly.
She had such genuine warmth, he wondered if the healing had already begun. Anya placed her bookbag and the five bouquets she was holding on a chair next to the bed, then moved slowly to stand next to his mother.
“What happened to her?”
“Accident at work,” Tristan said, placing his five bouquets on another chair across from Anya. “She was thrown out of a window by a...specimen.”
Anya met his eyes. “Anomalous?”
He responded with a curt nod, but when he said nothing else, he noticed Anya watching him.
“You don’t trust me being here, do you?”
She wasn’t wrong, but still, he didn’t want her to think there was any ulterior motive other than helping his mother wake up. “I had no other option.”
Anya reached for his mother’s blanket, still looking at him. “May I?”
He sucked in a sharp breath, then nodded. She lifted the blanket and began examining his mother’s arms.
“Interesting.”
“What is?” he asked.
“She’s not swollen,” Anya replied. “That’s a good sign.”
“How so?”
“It means her organs aren’t failing,” Anya explained, moving on to his mother’s legs. “And her blood flow seems good too.”
He went to stand across from her. “How can you tell?”
“I can feel it.” She laid a hand on his mother’s forehead and closed her eyes.
“So...can you help her or not?”
Anya opened her eyes and gave him a pointed look. “Are you going to let me focus, or will you keep distracting me?”
“Sorry.” He brought his hands to his back as if the posture alone was enough to remind him to give her the needed space.
Anya closed her eyes again, one hand still on his mother’s forehead while the other was just above her chest. The most serene expression took over Anya’s face, and Tristan couldn’t look away. He wished he could feel whatever she was feeling.
Anya opened her eyes, and Tristan leaned forward, eagerly.
“Did it work?” His eyes shifted to his mother’s peaceful face. “Is she going to wake up?”
“That’s not how it works,” Anya explained. “She’s been under too long.”
“What does that mean?”
Anya covered his mother with the blanket again. “It means...the healing will have to happen in stages.”
“Oh.” That didn’t seem like a problem, although he wasn’t entirely sure how long it would be until a nurse walked in for her rounds. He glanced at his watch. “How long do you need?”
“It’ll take days, Tristan. Not hours.”
Hearing her say his name filled him with a strange sense of warmth, and he wondered if she was somehow using her ability on him as well.
“Are you okay?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Fine.”
“Okay, then let stage one begin.” She sucked in a breath and pointed across the room. “Can you bring your flowers here, please?”
Tristan watched as Anya grabbed her bouquets and placed them at his mother’s feet. Tristan placed his flowers on top of hers. Anya returned her hand to his mother’s head and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath. His attention shifted to his mother. Even though it was going to take some time, a wave of renewed hope washed over him.
A rush of wind blew through, but the windows weren’t even open. Anya jolted forward as if losing her balance. She grabbed onto the frame of the gurney, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as her face grew paler by the second.
Still, she kept her eyes closed. Focused.
Her shoulders hunched over as if energy was being sapped out of her. He walked around the bed, wondering if there was anything he could do to help. Her hand began to glow, and the flowers started to wither. He stepped back, unsure of what was happening. Though color was draining fast from her face, he trusted she knew what she was doing.
Anya’s eyes shot open. She gasped, as if she’d been underwater that whole time. Her knees buckled, and he hurried to catch her, wrapping a strong arm around her waist to keep her from falling.
“That’s all I can do for now,” she breathed.
Tristan glanced at his mother. She looked exactly the same.
“What does that mean?”
“It means…we’ll have to wait and see how her body reacts.” Anya grabbed onto his arms for support. “I need you to take me home now.”
“Don’t you want to go back to school?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I can’t. I need to go home.”
“Are you okay to walk?” he asked, noticing how firm she was gripping his arm.
“I’ll just need to hold onto you, if that’s okay.”
He nodded. It was the least he could do. “Let’s go before someone comes in.”
On the way toward the door, she reached for her bookbag on the chair, but Tristan grabbed it from her.
“I got it,” he said, swinging it over his shoulder.
Thankfully, the halls were empty and, before long, they were back in the car. He started the engine, then glanced at Anya in the passenger seat. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was heavy like she had just run a mile.
He had so many questions. The main one being what exactly did she do. As strange as it was, he had to admit it was fascinating to watch her in action. When the flowers withered, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Where do you live?” he asked.
“My car is at school,” she muttered, her eyes still closed.
“Are you okay to drive?” When she didn’t respond, he let out a long breath. “I’ll take that as a no.”