C. Omololu - Intuition

“I got you some water,” Drew says into my ear as he hands each of us a bottle.

“Thanks!” Rayne just grins and waves her backstage pass at me like it’s all unreal. We found a stool for her to sit on while she watches, and other than looking a little tired, she’s doing okay.

As we wait in the wings, Drew stands behind me, not so close that we’re touching, but close enough so I can feel the Akhet vibrations between us. I check my phone again for anything from Janine. I feel so helpless, like I failed them all.

“Expecting a call?” Drew asks, nodding to the phone.

“No,” I say, tucking it back into my pocket. “Just habit.”

“Good,” he says. “Tonight you should forget about everything else and just enjoy yourself.”

He’s right. How often do I get to be backstage at an Arena show? Portia finishes her song and waves to the crowd as they pound on the floor and scream for more. Her backup dancers race by us for a costume change, their muscles glistening with sweat, grabbing water as they head deeper backstage. The stage lights dim and a hush comes over the Arena.

Drew’s been leaning against the wall, but as soon as Portia starts speaking into the microphone, he snaps to attention. “Crap! She’s not going to, is she?”

Because the speakers are pointed away from us, I don’t catch everything she says. “What?” I look over at Rayne, who just shrugs.

Drew runs his hand through his hair. “I helped her out on a couple of songs on the last album. But she promised she wasn’t going to make a thing out of it.”

I look up and see Portia turned away from the audience, her arm extended in our direction.

“Guess I don’t have a choice,” Drew says. “Will you ladies excuse me for just a minute?” Plastering a smile on his face, Drew strides confidently out onto the stage and grabs Portia’s hand. She says something to the audience and everyone cheers as Drew walks over to the grand piano that’s off to one side and sits down.

All I can see is the top of his head as he bends over the keys, and in seconds, the first bars of Portia’s newest hit come bursting through the speakers. Portia stands motionless next to the piano, one lone spotlight illuminating her figure, the rest of the stage bare. The crowd is silent as she begins singing about losing her love to someone else, the sense of loss and longing transmitted perfectly to every single heart in the massive space. She sings to the audience, who wave their arms in slow motion, and turns to Drew as she reaches the part of the song where she talks about finding someone just like the one she lost. Even though it’s just Portia and Drew and the piano, no flashing lights or glittering backup dancers, it’s the most beautiful moment of the whole night.

“What’s up with that?” Rayne leans over and whispers in my ear. “I didn’t know Drew could play.”

“I think there’s not much he can’t do.” I watch as the song finishes and Drew stands up and waves to the crowd. Everyone is on their feet, screaming for more as Portia wraps her arms around him and plants a kiss on his lips. She said that they had a history, but now I’m wondering just how long ago that history ended.

“Sorry about that,” Drew says a little sheepishly as he joins us backstage. There are beads of sweat on his upper lip that he rubs away with the sleeve of his shirt.

“That was amazing,” Rayne says, a flicker of awe in her eyes. “I love that song. Why didn’t you tell us you played on it?”

We flatten ourselves against the wall as the dancers rush back onstage and the lights come up for the next song. “We were just messing around in the studio one day, and that came out,” he says. “We had no idea it was going to take off like it did.” He glances at me, a faintly guilty look in his eyes. “She usually has one of the guys in the band play the piano part. I honestly didn’t think she was going to do that.”

I smile. “You were great.”

Relief washes over his face, and I realize just how much he cares what I think.

“I’m glad,” he says. “It didn’t matter that thousands of people were out there. What mattered was that you were back here. Every word, every note, was for you.”

There’s a pause, and it feels like time stops for just a moment. Everything seems to come into sharp focus as the music and the stage are pushed into the background. I see the way Drew’s hair is damp at the ends from the heat of the stage, and the outline of the ankh he wears through the thin fabric of his shirt. I see the way we were back then, how safe and protected I felt with Connor’s arms around me and how unbelievably broken I felt when he was gone.

I want to be part of something like that again—to feel that level of devotion again. Drew loves me even though I’ve given him every reason not to, and eventually he’ll stop giving me second chances. Someday soon, he’s going to stop asking.

I reach up and put my arms around his neck, pulling him to me and pressing my lips against his in a kiss that I hope holds both an apology and a promise.

Drew pulls back, surprised, and looks into my eyes for confirmation that it wasn’t an accident, like somehow I tripped and fell into him. I smile, almost embarrassed now. He throws his head back and laughs, picking me up and spinning me around, giving me a kiss that’s both tender and insistent. I put one hand on his chest, and his heart is beating so loud and so fast it drowns out the Akhet vibrations between us.

As he sets me back down, I look over at Rayne. She’s watching it all with a smile on her face, and I know that any sins against Griffon have been forgiven. “Nice,” she mouths, and I roll my eyes at her.

We’re walking through the parking lot after the show when my hand bumps Drew’s, and instead of moving apart, he wraps his fingers through mine, watching my face to see that it’s okay, that things have changed enough between us to hold hands in public.

I glance up at Rayne, who’s walking ahead of us through the rows of cars, her head bent and the light from her phone reflected in her face; texting Peter, I’m sure.

“You don’t have to worry,” I say, leaning into him. “I’m not going to run away.”

Drew laughs and squeezes my hand tighter. “I guess I’m not totally sure of that.” He brings my hand up to his lips and kisses my fingers. “It’s just so hard to believe that you’re here, that you’re with me now. It’s been so long.”

“I thought the kissing might have convinced you,” I say.

“I might need a little more convincing,” Drew says, leaning in and kissing me deeply. I can feel his hunger inside, an overwhelming desire so intense it scares me.

I hear a phone clatter to the ground, and we look up to see Rayne slumped against the hood of an old car from the ’50s. She’s not completely unconscious, but looks dazed and not totally aware of us as we rush over to see if she’s okay.

I recognize the look in her eyes, seeing but not seeing, and know she’s someplace else. “I think she’s having a memory,” I say.

“What are you talking about?” Drew grabs her by the shoulders and eases her onto the ground next to the car. As he lets go of her arms, he turns to me. “Why am I feeling Akhet vibrations from her?”

“I’m okay,” Rayne says thickly. She tries to stand up, but her legs are wobbling under her. “I just had the weirdest flashback.” She rubs her forehead. “I’ve been getting them a lot lately. I think it’s from the stuff that Veronique gave me.”

“It is, sort of,” I say, helping her up. “What did you see?”

She squints. “I was driving an old turquoise blue car on a country road somewhere. It had these huge fins on the back like it was the ’50s. It was really hot, so the windows were down, and I was blowing cigarette smoke out into the air.”

I look at the car she’s leaning against. It’s red, not blue, but it has the same huge fins in the back. “Was it like this car?”

Rayne looks at it thoughtfully. “Yeah, it was, kind of.”

Drew stares at me, taking it all in. “You don’t mean . . . how . . . ?”

I exhale. I should have done this long before now. It’s not fair to keep either of them in the dark, even if it’s for different reasons. “Let’s find Drew’s car. I think we have a lot to talk about.”

“So Rayne’s fine with it?” Janine asks, leaning back in her chair as I tell her a carefully edited version of last night’s events.

“More than fine with it,” I say. “Thrilled is more like it. I wish you could have seen her face when I told her. I thought she’d be pissed about what Veronique had done, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her happier.”

Janine laughs. “That’s one way to look at it,” she says. “I’m glad you finally told her.”

“I had to. She was starting to have memories, and I couldn’t let her think she was going crazy.”

“You can always send her to me if she has questions you can’t answer,” Janine says.

“I will. I just hope she can keep the whole thing from her mom. She was so excited; I know that was her first thought, and her mom is totally into all that hippie stuff—psychics and auras.”

“At least she has you. Not many people get that kind of an advantage when they transition.”

“Thanks,” I say quietly.

“What did you tell Drew?”

“Everything,” I say. “Well, almost everything. I left out the part about spying on his party, because there was just no good way to put that.”

“And what did he say?”

I look away, thinking about the hurt on Drew’s face as I told him what had been going on. “He was kind of pissed,” I admit. “He didn’t like that I’d been keeping such big things from him. But we weren’t together when it all happened,” I say. “It’s not like I owed him anything.”

Janine raises her eyebrows at the past tense, but thankfully lets it go. No way do I want to talk about my relationship with Drew right now. Whatever it actually is. He kissed me when he dropped us off last night, but I could tell he was hesitating, holding something back.

“You’re right,” Janine agrees. “You don’t owe him anything.”

Her eyes are so honest and kind—I feel the guilt welling up inside. I’ve been thinking about it for the past two days; I have to tell her. “You know how I said that I didn’t get anything from anyone at Drew’s party?”

“Yes. You said that nobody there seemed to be hiding anything big.” She tilts her head toward me. “Don’t worry, it’s what we expected. We’re trying some other avenues of information.”

“Yeah. Well, that wasn’t totally true. I did see something, but I’m not sure what it means.”

Janine sits up straight. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I take a deep breath. “Because it’s Giselle.”

Her eyes widen. “Giselle? Our Giselle?”

“Exactly,” I say, feeling validated by her reaction. “Your Giselle. Which is why I didn’t say anything in the first place. I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“That’s not fair,” Janine says. “Of course I believe you. It’s just that it’s extremely unusual for Sekhem to turn like that—I can’t remember a single case in all of my lifetimes. You caught me off guard, is all. Did you sense that she knows more about this than she’s letting on?”

I struggle to find the right words, because I’m not sure what I know. “All I sensed was something dark in her essence. It’s hard to explain, but it’s like a shadow over the sun, a place that she doesn’t want anyone to see.”

Janine considers this. “She did volunteer to go with you to the party.” She looks me in the eyes. “Do you remember her trying to steer you into or out of conversation with anyone? Did she do anything that would have made you suspicious?”

“I don’t think so,” I shake my head. “She mostly stayed out of the way, on the other side of the room, the whole time. I sort of . . . spilled wine on her, and it was when I was helping with the stain that I felt that she was hiding something.”

Janine studies me. “Do you think that you could read her better if you had more time? If she’s involved in any of this, we have to know. It’s been a week since Veronique was killed, and every second the trail gets colder.”

I remember the look in Giselle’s eyes when I saw her at Veronique’s lab that day. Was it guilt? Did she know I sensed something? “If I do, I’ll have to be careful how deep I go, because if I get sick like last time, she’ll figure it out. She saw how I was after connecting with Rayne.”

“Is it something you can control?”

I was able to at Drew’s party, but that was with a room full of people. “I don’t know.”