Gifted

Chapter 33 - Sage

I followed Sylar into the house. He led me through the doorway, closing it behind me. I shivered, it was almost dark outside, the temperature having dropped rapidly. It didn't help that I remained clothed in the gown my grandfather had asked me to wear to meet my future husband.

Future husband.

Heavens above, what a day and add to that the control I'd exerted over the packs, I felt exhausted and yet I was sure the worst was yet to come.

"You're cold," said Sylar. "Let me get you something." He looked towards Misha expectantly.

"I'm sure I can find you something a little more comfortable to wear Sage?" Misha looked over my dress curiously.

"I'd appreciate that, thank you."

Misha smiled warmly at me and then towards Sylar. It was easy to see she cared for him. "This way, follow me."

I followed her up the creaky wooden stairway, led down a corridor to a room last on the left. Leading me inside, she went to the wardrobe and pulled out some clothes. "This should be good." She turned to look at me, her eyes running the length of me. "Yes, these will be perfect."

Returning to me she held out the clothes. "Thanks, This is very kind of you."

"No problem," she replied.

Stood waiting, I expected her to leave. She didn't.

Well, this was uncomfortable.

"You look so much like your mother."

I wasn't expecting that and before I could ask anything she said, "I'll let you have some privacy and when you're ready, we'll be waiting downstairs. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm good, thanks."

As the door closed behind her I reached for the zipper on my dress. Pulling it down, it fell to the floor. I kicked off my shoes letting my mind drift to Hunter, wishing I could hear his voice right now and make sure he was okay.

Would he even want to speak to me?

Did it even matter now?

Once he knew... knew what I was capable of... I played the conversation in my head.

Hey Hunter, guess what? I think I might be a murderer or even better, a serial killer. Still think you want me?

He would run... screaming, no doubt. Or lock me up. I wasn't sure which was worse.

Nobody will ever love you, Sage. My grandfather's words repeated.

Quickly pulling on the top and leggings that Misha had given me, I looked down at my feet, wondering what size feet Misha was. I could hardly walk around in heels. Dressed but barefooted, I headed downstairs, following the sounds of their voices.

They all turned as I entered their kitchen. Awkwardly I stood fumbling with the hem of my t-shirt.

"Hey, come sit," said Sylar, instantly standing and pulling out a chair for me. For someone so young, he was quite the gentleman.

I sat, pulling my chair close to the table, so they wouldn't see my knee bopping with nerves. "I'm ready."

Sylar glanced from Misha to Gavin, and then his eyes rested on me and asked. "Tell me what you know."

Tell him what I know? Well apparently, little to nothing!

He must have sensed my conflict. "Just start from when you can recall, go as far back as you can." I nodded and started at the beginning.