She shakes her head, making her ridiculous dangly earrings jingle. “Maybe she asked him to leave because she was embarrassed about being so drunk.”
I snort – Kelly doesn’t get embarrassed, not even when she should.
“Anyway, Spencer was really drunk, too,” adds Lebz.
He did look rather wasted. Maybe that was why his buddies were so unimpressed, and why they got him out of there in such a hurry. I have to admit, it does look like a simple case of overindulgence. Except for one thing. I turn my chair to face Lebz. “If Kelly wasn’t in danger, why did I have that premonition?”
Lebz props herself up on her elbows and looks at me. “Maybe it was because Amantle and I were worried. You know sometimes your premonitions are triggered by other people’s emotions.”
I shake my head. “I sensed that she was in danger. Something’s not adding up.”
“Well, if something happened, Kelly’s not telling.” She sits up. “As long as she’s OK, I’m happy.”
“Get me Spencer’s number.”
Lebz blinks. I raise an eyebrow at her.
“No,” she says firmly. “I don’t want to piss Kelly off.”
I roll my eyes. Sometimes my best friend can be supremely naïve. “She doesn’t have to know. Just make some excuse to see her phone, go through her contacts, and get the number. Easy.”
She swallows hard, unease coming off her in waves. As much as she wants to find out whether her beloved Kelly is in danger, she’s not eager to get involved in another supernatural battle. Lebz likes to keep her feet on the ground, in expensive shoes, and far away from things that might give her nightmares.
“It was your idea for me to investigate,” I remind her mercilessly.
“I know,” she mutters. “I’ll see what I can do.”
***
During the week, Rakwena and I go to Game City to watch an afternoon movie. We don’t do a lot of normal date stuff like other couples, but I like that about us. I wouldn’t have said that a year ago, when I was doing everything I could to pretend I was normal. That was before I became a telepath, before Rakwena. Now normal is a sad little dream I’ve finally woken up from.
I want to watch a thriller, Rakwena wants to watch a political drama, so we settle on a comedy. It’s not bad – the parts we actually watch, that is. Rakwena tries not to laugh out loud while I sift through the thoughts of the guy sitting two rows in front of us. I know I shouldn’t, but the poor man seems to have a mini heart attack every time the pretty female lead makes an appearance.
When the film is over, Rakwena wraps his arm around my shoulder as we leave the cinema. I push him away self-consciously. I’m not one for public displays of affection. Instead of being offended, he laughs and ruffles my hair. The heel of his palm brushes the top of my ear, and I feel the tingle all the way to my toes.
“Coward,” he whispers.
“And proud of it.”
The retort I expected never comes. Rakwena stiffens beside me. I turn to see the cause of his discomfort. The Cresta Crew are sitting at a table at KFC, all six pairs of eyes trained on us. Honestly, didn’t anyone teach them that staring is bad manners? I wave to ease the tension, but not one of them responds – not even sweet little Duma. That’s when I realise that they can’t even see me. All their attention is on Rakwena. I look up at him. His jaw twitches as he wrenches his gaze away from them.
“Let’s get out of here,” he suggests, through gritted teeth.
“Wait. This might be my best chance to talk to them.” I start towards the fast food outlet and Rakwena’s hand closes fiercely over my arm like a Venus flytrap over its prey. I wince. “Hey, that hurts.”
“You’re not talking to them,” he hisses, pulling me away. “We’re leaving. Now.”
“Hey! Let go!” I try to pull my arm away, but Rakwena is the strongest boy I know. “Rakwena! You’re hurting me!”
He drops my arm instantly. “Sorry. But you’re being so… Please, let’s just go. I’m starving.” His voice turns coaxing. “I’ll make us dinner.”
I stare at him, rubbing my sore forearm. “You know, this Jekyll and Hyde thing you’ve got going on is really starting to get to me. What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing, I just want to go home.” He keeps his eyes on my face, almost as though he’s afraid to look in the Cresta Crew’s direction.
“It’s not nothing,” I persist. “You paid someone to keep me away from them at the party, and now you’re acting crazy. Why are you so worried about these guys?”
“Because they’re obviously dangerous,” he blurts out.
“Obviously?”
“Yes. And they’re taking too much interest in you. They’re suspicious.” He lets out an exasperated groan. “You promised to stay out of trouble!”
“Ja, well, I’m un-promising. If you’re so concerned, you can wait here.” I start towards the boys again, and again Rakwena grabs me, this time almost pulling my arm out of its socket. “Ow!”
“Connie, please.” His eyes are bright and pleading. “What if they try something?”
“In the middle of a mall full of people?” I snap. “We’re going to talk about this, but right now I’m going over there, and I swear, if you try to stop me, I will scream this whole place down. Got it?”
I stalk off, furious with him. My whole arm is aching. What on earth is the matter with that boy? I glance over my shoulder, expecting to see him standing there glowering at me, but the space where he stood is empty. I catch sight of him walking – no, practically running – away, fists clenched. He’s angry, too. From this distance I can’t tell if he’s giving off blue light, but it’s a good thing he’s getting out of sight before he sparks up.
I take a deep breath and turn back to the Cresta Crew. They’re frozen in their seats, glaring at me, almost daring me to take another step. They’ll soon learn that I don’t scare that easily.
By the time I reach their table their expressions have changed. The twins look incredulous. Spencer looks surly. Duma looks nervous, Rapunzel impressed and Hulk…well, like he wants to smash something. All of them are giving off high energy levels and blocking me as though they were born doing it. I finally have my confirmation – they’re all gifted, and I’m not talking about a little sliver of sixth sense. Whatever their gifts, they’re powerful.
I offer them a bright smile. “Hello, gentlemen. I’m Connie. But you already know that. Want to tell me why you’re staring at my boyfriend?”
No one says a word. A few of the others glance at Hulk. I see – there’s a hierarchy at work. Hulk takes a long, languid sip of his Coke.
“Should I pull up a chair, make myself comfortable? We have a lot to discuss.”
He looks at me. His eyes are clear and intelligent…and dangerous. Suddenly I’m all too aware of his size and proximity. Big and close enough to knock my brains out, to be precise. “Afternoon, Conyza.” His voice is like black crushed velvet, soft and thick. Not at all the voice of someone who intends to squash me flat. “It’s good to finally meet you. Duma hasn’t stopped talking about you since the party.”
“Really?” I glance at the kid, and he flashes his adorable grin. “Where did I get the idea that you guys weren’t exactly thrilled to see him talking to me?”
Hulk shrugs. “We keep to ourselves. You understand.”
“Yes, I