The Protection

Forty-One

Kyler's mother wore the most spectacular white linen pantsuit. Bright, white, and expensive. Her white Celine shoulder bag was worth more than anything I owned, combined. I recognized the brand, as Beth has the same one in black. Kyler's mother shifted, her all white outfit a stark contrast to the cheap dark clothing that littered my floor. She sat perched on the very corner of my bed looking as if she didn't want to touch anything. 

I was overwhelmingly ashamed of my messy room, and wished I had at least lit a candle to counteract the smell from my knee pads in the corner. I anxiously chewed on my thumb nail, stealing periodic glances at her. I didn't exactly know how to act around her. Not only was she an elite member of The Protection, but she was also the mother of the man I loved. It also didn't ease my nerves that she had remained silent during the entire walk back to my apartment, aside from 'excusing Kyler from his duties for the rest of the day.' Her judgmental gaze never left me. I shifted again, nervously playing with the hem of the army green knee length dress, the cheap one I bought three years ago on sale at Target. It wasn't exactly the outfit I had in mind to meet his mother for the first time. I glanced at the flowers sitting on my desk that Ben had given me months ago. Dead. Abandoned. Forgotten. I watched as they slowly bloomed and restored back to their original glory. Strange. Did she do that? Was that part of her healing abilities Kyler had mentioned? She followed my gaze, and I could feel her sharp concentration on me once more.

"How did you heal the flowers just now? And earlier heal the trees out in the courtyard?" she asked, her voice stern, but curious. She tilted her head in my direction. Her eyes were so dark they were almost black, a dirty contrast to Kyler's eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said. I didn't understand the question, but I also wasn't courageous enough to look her in the eye again. I focused on the "healed" flowers instead. She reached out to me and touched my fingers. Her hands felt like ice on mine. I instinctively pulled my hand away, and at the same time, my eyes met hers. I was mesmerized. She had a calming aura that made me want to trust her even though my insides were coiling around themselves.

"Tell me, Perry. How did you do that?" she purred.

"I don't know why they were blooming, but I didn't do anything. At least I don't think I did." Her hand found mine again, and this time I did not pull away. I felt as though I was in some sort of trance. Like we were connected, and I couldn't pull away from her.

"How did you save those people from the accidents? How did you see what would become of them?" Suddenly, I saw through her eyes.

Alana spying on me for her and relaying back what had happened. In the stacks, outside the library, and in the courtyard. She had been there. Close to me. Close to us. I remembered seeing the briefest flash of her that night I saved the young girl from being killed by the car.

My mouth fell open and every instinct in my body told me to explain to her what happened, but my mind screamed and begged me to remain silent.

"How do you change the course of your life? How do you hide your decisions from our best Seers?" she carried on when I didn't answer. My insides began to feel like they were being rubbed raw. I bit my lip and withdrew my hand snapping my eyes back to the flowers. I tried to steady my head, feeling as though I had woken up from a long sleepless night. My mind was exhausted and fuzzy. I turned back towards the exquisite and pristine elite Protector.

"How did you do that, Mrs. Issacs?" I asked, my voice thick and full of gravel. She tossed me a proud, but brief, smile. Flattered.

"I'm a healer but I am also one of the top intelligence collectors for our program. With most people I can subject them to a little pressure, and they are honest despite how shameful or dark their secrets are. I was in charge of the implementation of our memory recovery program a few years ago." She grabbed my hand again, and I saw through her eyes.

Kyler was dragged by two large Protectors, men that made him appear small, into a modest white sterile room that looked like any room in an old hospital. He perched himself, looking apprehensive, on a gray hospital chair as his mother moved slowly towards him. Her smile showed how overjoyed she was by her actions. She used a small metallic wand, no larger than a pencil, and he grimaced a little as it hovered above his skin. A bright blue light appeared scanning the middle line of his tattoo. Immediately a video appeared on the large TV monitor in the corner of the room. The screen filled with images of Kyler and me in my bathroom when he placed me on the counter.

I ripped my hand from hers feeling the redness spread to my cheeks. She gave me a knowing, but disapproving smile. "I am just glad I have these abilities that make our nation safer." She was proud of her ability to manipulate my mind. "And you can call me by my name: Helen." She held out a hand, but I didn't accept. I didn't want to touch her again. She dropped her hand, undeterred. We sat for several moments in silence, and when she was convinced I wouldn't spill any further secrets, she stood and brushed off her pristine skirt. Our meeting was over.

I walked her to the door, ignoring Beth as she curiously peeked her head out of the kitchen. "We will be in touch," she said as more of a threat than an offer. She nodded once at me before parading down the steps. Her modest nude heels clinked with every step and her less than modest Protector bodyguard wasn't far behind. As I closed the door, I swear I saw a second person standing beside Beth in the small window's reflection, but as I turned, only two of us were in the room.