Dying to Remember (The Station #2) Read online

  Slowly I amble through the crowd until I find myself outside. According to the board, everyone was still on their cases, so it left just me from my little group to sit at the fountain and daydream. Returning from an assignment was exhausting. I have to rifle through my mind and separate myself from the feelings I had with Jess. I was with her for almost a year. Even in Station time, it was a lengthy case. But I felt good, as if I had accomplished the unthinkable.

  Rolling onto my stomach, I dip a hand into the chilled water and push it around, as I do every time I have more than ten seconds to lounge at the fountain. It's the fastest and most reliable way to calm my nerves. As the water sloshes around my hand, I vow to not take another assignment until Sloan returns.

  Like a movie, I replay our first kiss over and over again until a voice directly above startles me. With a slight splash, my hand jumps in the water, flinging droplets into my face.

  After swiping my dry hand over my eyes, I wipe the water from them and push myself up into a sitting position. Without turning around, I know who has spoken. And I silently chastise myself for not remembering him sooner.

  "Rush," I say over my shoulder.

  "Am I really that forgettable?" he asks with a snicker.

  I turn to find him standing at the fountain rim, just behind me. Dressed in the same white clothes he wore when I last saw him. He hasn't changed, except for the surprised expression on his face. He is still just as dangerously beautiful and equally mysterious as I remember him.

  "I didn't forget about you. I just…didn't remember you is all."

  "That isn't the same thing?" His laughter went well with the benign expression on his face. I begin to think the sharpness of his personality has lost just a smudge of arrogance since our first meeting, but that quickly changes when Rush sits down beside me, making no attempt to hide his up and down glance of my body.

  Pulling my knees in to my chest, I arch an eyebrow at him, waiting for his curious gaze to settle on my face. When it does, he clears his throat but surprisingly locks his eyes with mine, rather than glancing somewhere else. I refuse to be the first one to look away.

  "You've been gone a long time, Piper Willow," he says softly, unblinking.

  "Yeah? I thought there was no concept of time here?"

  He lifts his chin but still refuses to break eye contact. "True, time does not matter here. But when one as lovely as yourself is absent for such a considerable amount of time, it's noticeable."

  "Noticeable?" I'm intrigued.

  "Yes, I noticed your absence."

  "My absence," I say quietly.

  "Will you be repeating everything I say, Piper Willow?"

  "Maybe when you stop calling me by both my names, I'll think about it."

  "I see."

  I can't help smiling at Rush as he shifts uncomfortably on the hard fountain rim, his legs looking impossibly long compared to my shorter ones. It's my smile that breaks his eye contact. Rush grins and then briefly looks down at the hand that rests between us.

  Ha! I won that round, Rush! I blush when his eyes dart back to mine; something dark and wanting lingering near the surface.

  Sighing, I lift my hands up in surrender, "What is it that you want, Rush?"

  "We need to talk about your last assignment, or did you forget we would be watching?"

  "We? Who exactly is 'we'?" I stare hard at him, wishing I could penetrate his thoughts just as he is able to read mine.

  "The Mentors and myself, of course. We were curious to see how things went for you," he says with a smirk as he rises from the fountain, towering over me like a Greek God.

  "And?" Despite my irritation with him, I'm beyond curious.

  "And…we were not disappointed. Come, let's speak."

  Hesitantly I take his outstretched hand and let him gently pull me to my feet. Standing before him, I feel exposed and half-naked in my skimpy sleep clothes. For what had to be the seven hundredth time, I wish I had picked out a last outfit with slightly more material.

  ***

  I stare nervously at the descended step in the center of the room where I first met Rush - only more people are apparently expected to be in attendance this time. We're the first two to arrive, and when Niles enters the room only minutes later with Edith, I fly across the wide room to hug him. Edith smiles at me warmly, as if she sees me truly for the first time. And then the rest of the mentor's enter. After being introduced to each of them they begin taking seats along the oval shaped bench that dips below floor level, chatting quietly amongst each other.

  I remember Hector's name from when he escorted the shamed Beady Eyes from the Station after I was pulled off of Sloan's case. His army camouflage attire is worn and faded and incredibly soft as he leans over to give me a half-hug before crossing the room and sitting down comfortably next to Niles and Edith.

  When Carlson enters the room I glower at him, and as expected he glowers back before nodding submissively at Rush. His thin legs wobble as he scurry's over to sit with the mentor's. I have no idea what he's doing here until the sexy drawl of a familiar voice behind me fills my ears like music.

  I turn slowly and gasp as Sloan scoops me up into his arms, ignoring the interested looks from the others in the room as he spins me around twice before kissing me on the lips. Breathless, I slowly put my hands upon his chest and stare up into his face, deliriously happy to see him, but confused at the same time. What is Sloan doing here…in this meeting?

  "I have so much to tell you," he says into my ear as I glance quickly at Rush. His cold and hard eyes are focused on Sloan's back and I furrow my brow as the glow around him shimmers brightly.

  "Please, if you two are finished, have a seat?" he says flatly.

  Jealous much?

  I regret the thought instantly as Rush's piercing gaze lights me up like I'm on fire from the inside out. My face throbs as a hot flush spreads over my cheeks. I'm almost certain I look as if I've been slapped across both cheeks.

  With downcast eyes, I pad across the cool floor, hoping my embarrassed blush isn't noticed by anyone, but the way Carlson raises his eyebrow at me in disdain I know I'm not that lucky. Sloan seems oblivious; in fact he seems proud to be holding my hand as we settle down on the ground next to Niles.

  "So," Rush starts, facing away from me, "I want to thank you all for humoring me. You know that I don’t interfere with the inner workings of your station often. But this lady here," he nods at me, furthering my blush, "is quite the remarkable find."

  All eyes are on me, boring into my being like I'm transparent. I want to scream for them to stop staring at me but it's useless. I want to stare at me too, even if only to see how crimson my face has become. Sloan squeezes my hand hard enough to hurt as Rush continues his explanation of why we are all huddled together in the strange meeting room.

  I'm aware of the hardness of Sloan's muscular thigh as he leans his jeans against my leg, and of the feel of his body heat leaving his arm and radiating into mine. We are pressed into each other firmly, breathing as one, moving as one. I don't notice how close we truly are until Rush turns to finally face me and his words catch momentarily in his mouth as he glances between me and Sloan.

  Clear your mind, don't let him in.

  His eyes narrow before he tilts his head up slightly, defiantly staring me down. Or Sloan. I can't be sure exactly which of us he is glaring at. Sloan's hand tightens briefly before loosening. I try not to flinch as he pulls his fingers from mine and leans backwards, resting against the floor. He hooks a leg up over his knee, looking as relaxed as ever. But I can almost hear his heartbeat thudding wildly in his ribcage.

  So it was him you were shooting daggers at with that angry stare of yours?

  As if to confirm, a smile twitches at the side of Rush's mouth just enough to be noticeable only if you happened to be looking. And I was. I shouldn't be.

  I look down, staring at his bare feet while he continues his rehearsed speech. If I keep staring at his feet, perhaps I will be able to block
him from my thoughts. I begin to concentrate on the curve of his instep, the roundness of each toe and the pink color of his heel. With each small step he takes inside the oval center of the room, I simply watch his feet. Eventually I blank out altogether, and it's not until those same feet are standing just in front of my own that I jump, pulled back to the present with a jolt.

  Oh my god, what was I thinking about?

  Slowly, my eyes travel up his legs and the crisp white pants he is wearing, hovering only a millisecond on the area between his upper thighs and abdomen. As my gaze trails upwards, I can see the outline of his chest muscles beneath the cotton shirt and the movement of his throat as he swallows. Without a word, I can see it all in his eyes. He's read my every thought.

  Crap.

  CHAPTER 15

  Not a single trace of blue is left in his eyes as he looks down at my startled expression. Only steel shines back at me, intense and cool like the blade of a knife. The severity of his fixed stare doesn't match his mouth. Both his lips are parted, relaxed even. And the corners twitch, as if he's struggling not to smile. I've hit a nerve in him, I'm sure of it.

  "All this talk, and you've yet to tell us why we are all here," I say calmly, hoping I can move the conversation into a direction that makes Rush's appearance less desirable.

  Sloan squirms next to me, struggling to find a comfortable sitting position and as Rush lifts an eyebrow, he backs away from me until his legs are only an inch from the recessed step. I watch as he sits down gracefully, fluidly using every muscle in his body in slow motion until he's perched on the step in a manner that commands his attention. And boy does he get it. All eyes in the room are on him, and breathing has all but ceased. We wait. When Rush takes a deep breath, he looks first as me and then to Niles.

  "Piper Willow is a Seer."

  At first everyone continues to stare at Rush, and then slowly, the others begin to turn their stunned gaze from him to me. I still don't get it. What the heck is a 'seer'?

  "But, she does not know it…yet," Rush adds, the slow drawl of his voice echoing slightly off the empty white walls around us.

  "And…what is that?" I ask.

  "You can see beyond." I shrug my shoulders, since that means nothing to me. With a sigh, Rush leans forward, resting his forearms against his thighs. "It means you can see beyond this realm, both in the physical and the spiritual sense. It is why when you go on your assignments, you can alter the mind you inhabit so easily."

  I blink at Rush for a solid minute before the giggles start. "Are you saying…I'm some sort of psychic or something? Because if you are, I can guarantee that's not the case."

  "Well, it's been referred to as many things with your people, but I do think you are different. You didn't have this ability before your death; I know; I've studied you. When you died, a piece of you did not. A piece of your mind actually expanded."

  Sloan is breathing hard enough that I can hear the breath as it escapes from his mouth in gusty exhales. He won't look at me, though I will him to. If this is true, what Rush says, why can't I get the only person in the room I want to lock eyes with to just turn around and face me?

  I look at Niles next, who seems pale but he smiles at me. And grateful for the friendly connection between us, I smile back. He's the only one in the room who has taken their attention off of Rush.

  "If this is true, why does any of it matter to you?" I ask, fidgeting with the hem of my shorts.

  "Because you fascinate me. My people - we are born with this ability; to see beyond into other worlds. It's why I came here so long ago. Why stations even exist. But your people for the most part are basically the same. You; you are not." I gulp hard enough to be heard.

  "Piper…you are more like me than you realize," Rush says. The blue glint in his eyes is back, along with a glow around his being so distracting that the others finally look away from him.

  Defiantly, I stand and force my arms to stop shaking, willing my fingers to leave the hem of my clothing alone. "I am nothing like you," I say to him, with my chin held high.

  I blink once and he's standing before me, one hand gently on my shoulder, the other resting on the side of my head. With his palm pressing flat against my temple, he strokes my skin slowly with his thumb. Static electricity courses through me, ripping a hole in my mind, making my teeth clatter together.

  Forced to close my eyes from the jolt that is almost painful, I feel a separation in my thoughts. As if Rush himself is sharing my mind with me. His sultry yet naturally arrogant voice vibrates through the soft tissue of my brain and I hear myself whimper. Slowly, as if a crowd has gathered in the tight confines of my skull, I begin to hear them. All of them.

  Sloan is panicked, unsure of what to do, but he's afraid of Rush. I hear him cursing, feel his anxiety and know without turning around and opening my eyes that he stands just behind me. Niles is in shock, but also stands nearby, and I know that even though he has shown nothing but respect toward the creature he calls Andurush, he will never fully trust him.

  Thoughts from the others flood through me…fear, wonder, sadness and pain; the pain of living an empty life before arriving at the Station and the pain of being trapped here. And Rush. I feel him open himself up to me…completely. I see his home; I see the inner workings of the Station, and his role in our existence…our survival as an after-life community. I see his struggles. And…I see…beyond.

  ***

  I wake up lying in a dark room, on the cold slab of the Station floor but I know I'm not alone. Turning my head to the right, in the dimmed light I see Sloan sitting beside me, his knees drawn up, his arms wrapped around them with his head tucked down.

  "Sloan?"

  He jerks, limbs flying in all directions as he scrambles closer to me, sliding along the smooth floor until we are touching. After he helps me sit up, I blink into his eyes, seeing the concern and fear that fills them.

  "What happened?" I ask, chewing unconsciously on my lower lip.

  He shakes his head from side to side before pulling me into his chest, hugging me tightly against him. The rapid beat of his heart threatens to elevate my own blood-pressure, so I gently pull away, looking around us and finding no other people in the small, rectangular shaped room.

  "Where are we?"

  I know the answer before he speaks it. The words come to me muted, but there, floating around like dander in my mind. We are in a holding room of some sort. Not far from the Station Depot room. I know this, yet I've never been here before. I know because Sloan told me, from his thoughts.

  And there's something else.

  "He's taking me, isn't he?" I whisper.

  Sloan's voice wavers as he speaks, "I won't let him. If you want to stay, I won't let him take you."

  If I want to stay? We hug again, this time with urgency. I suddenly need to feel every part of Sloan's body against mine. As I shake against him my mind races, trying to regroup and compartmentalize recent events. Sloan pushes my hair off my damp face, wiping gently at the tears that trickle down my cheeks and kisses me softly.

  This isn't fair. I've only just found you. I can't lose you again.

  ***

  Sloan guides me out of the small, dark room and we enter the main hall of the Consignment building in an emotional daze. People of all ages and shapes bustle about, oblivious to the fact that a being not from our planet, is hanging around nearby waiting for the answer to a question that he didn't even speak out loud. It's there though, begging for a ride at the back of my mind like a hitchhiker. He's done this to me, opened me up. And now…now I see everything.

  Two men old enough to be grandparents slowly pass by my right side, and when the taller of the two bumps into my shoulder, he pulls away, startled I think, by the shock that passed between us. The sensational spark is over in a flash but in that miniscule moment I see into the man's mind. I see a family, loss, extreme sadness, and his broken body on the concrete underpass below a bridge. He was a jumper. When he jerks away from me, I wonder if he
felt me inside him or if it was simply the static charge that had him spooked. Either way, it didn't matter. He rushes off with his friend in tow, glancing over his shoulder at me twice before disappearing into one of the many rooms along the hall.

  Sloan is looking at me, I can feel it. When I turn to smile at him, his face is pinched and drained of color. "What is it?" I ask, stopping in the hall to stare at him.

  "There was something else. Something else that they want to talk to you about. About us, actually. But they wouldn't tell me. Not until you woke up." The whites of his eyes are slightly bloodshot, making his blue irises seem darker and deeper.

  "Right. As if we haven't heard enough of this nonsense to last forever," I say under my breath as we begin walking.

  "Piper!"

  I recognize the voice before I see her, and I can't help but grin at the smile that spreads across Kerry-Anne's face as she pushes through the crowd and rushes me. Her yellow sundress is the happiest thing in the entire hall. As we hug, I notice the softness of the material as it brushes against my knees.

  "I've missed you; you've been gone such a long time!" Kerry-Anne gushes as she naturally links her arm with one of mine. For the time being she's completely oblivious to the fact that Sloan stands on the other side of me, and has begun to walk in pace with us.

  "I've missed you too! How many cases have you had since the last time I've seen you?" I ask.

  "Oh, let me think. Three, I've had three. You?"

  "Just one."

  She peers up at me, a knowing expression on her face. Most Volunteers average out about six months for the typical case. Though some seasoned pros were known to make it there and back within three months. I had spent almost a year with Jess. It was a tough case, and Kerry-Anne didn't have to ask why to know how much of a toll it had taken on me. Though my reasons for looking scatter-brained and distant had nothing to do with Jess, I was surely not going to tell Kerry-Anne that.