“PhD in bitchology,” I said, though my heart raced uncomfortably to be so forward.
An aggressive, dirty brown–red color flowed from Mari’s torso toward Serena. Serena actually leaned back a hair. When she stalked off, Dun whispered, “Hey, didn’t you tell us on the phone that Mr. Lucky Charms invited you here?”
I sat back and crossed my arms. “Apparently I’m one of many invitees.” I didn’t want to compete for a boy’s attention. It was futile, anyway. I was a plain girl in a decorated society, and I wasn’t about to change who I was to hold Finn Doyle’s interest.
Dun and Mari slid chairs out and sat. They talked with the intimate familiarity of best friends: eye contact, hand movements, light touches. Yet it was more than their normal body language. A pinkish cloud extended from the middle of Mari’s body toward Dun. It merged slightly with his own, infusing his yellow with a sunset glow.
I felt like I was watching a secret kiss.
Was this a new development? I cleared my throat. “I hope you guys behave yourselves,” I warned.
“Afraid we’ll scare away Dreamy McDublin?” Dun said.
Mari kicked him. “Why do you keep doing that—making up stupid names for him?”
Dun shrugged. “Heads up. Sir Shamrock approacheth.”
“Howya,” Finn said in greeting. He shook hands with both Mari and Dun as I introduced them. “Thanks for coming. I’ll be starting now.” His eyes flicked to me, and he winked. “Hope you enjoy.”
Dun waggled his brows at me. “Well now—”
“Shut up,” I said.
“Shutting up.”
Finn began to play. Voices descended into a respectful hush. Soft strums of the guitar lifted and fell on shafts of daylight from the windows. A small patch of sun warmed my exposed neck as I listened. The orange beads of his bracelet flashed as he plucked the strings with slender fingers. His head hung over the guitar in reverent concentration.
His playing was amazing, sweet and peaceful. For a while I let go of how bizarre my life had become. I was entranced long before Finn closed his eyes and opened his mouth to sing. His voice was rich, smooth suede, perfectly suited for the blues: soulful and vulnerable. The kind of voice that reaches inside and squeezes what’s tender.
When he sang an Irish bar song called “The Wild Rover,” he got the entire crowd to join in on the chorus. A couple of times during his performance, his gaze fell on me and lingered as if he sang directly to me. I rested my chin on my hand, hiding my smile behind my fingers. The last song was in a language I didn’t understand, but my soul spoke that language. Deep inside, something cracked open so that a bit of my truest self could peek out. His music was bluesy and mournful, eerily familiar, and it opened my heart in locked places. A tear landed on my wrist.
When the final chord of the last song reverberated through the coffeehouse, the audience jumped to its feet and applauded wildly. The force of energy from the crowd knocked the breath out of me, making me dizzy. I dared a look at the people in the room. The colors were unbelievable! Such power. It rolled toward Finn in a wave, a tsunami in slow motion. I had the impulse to leap in front of him, to protect him from it.
My body jerked in response to the thought, and I squeezed the sides of the wooden chair, willing myself to sit still. I couldn’t trust myself and the strong urge to protect him. But from what? The big, bad colors I could see but that were invisible to everyone else? He’d think I was crazy.
Maybe I was.
A chill spidered up my spine. The man with the crazy eyes and pure white aura leaned against the brick wall a couple feet away, staring intently at me. Icy fear spiked through me, making my fingers tingle and my breath come in quick bursts. The sounds of the room fell away. My heart sped and my aura sparked as I saw the roiling ball of the crowd’s energy pass over the man and collide with Finn. But rather than crush him, the energy crashed and blended with his own bright aura, making it grow and pulse fiercely. He seemed to absorb the light until the room grew dim to my eyes.
Untouched by the energy, the strange man moved closer and closer to me. I called out to Dun, but he couldn’t hear me over the shouts and clapping. I was so small in my chair amid the standing crowd. The man and his dark eyes were all I could see. I tried to leap up to run, to grab Dun’s arm, to call for help, but my chest jerked toward the stranger as if I’d been punched in the spine. I couldn’t draw breath, couldn’t move through the thick ice of my draining energy and rising panic. I was hit in the face with a blast of air. Then, a sudden flash of white.
The world tilted sideways, and I slid off.
Eight
Sounds funneled in before my eyes opened.
“Is she okay?” Dun’s voice broadcasted alarm.
“Should we call an ambulance?”
“Freak.” That was Serena Tate. Bitch.
I opened my eyes. Finn leaned over me, concern on his handsome face. He smiled when I focused on him. “I’ve never made a girl faint before. I must’ve really blown you away.”
I was blown away all right. I craned my head around, looking for the white aura, the dark eyes that had stared hungrily into mine, but he was gone. “That man…”
Finn touched my cheek with the back of his fingers. “Man?”
“This is embarrassing,” I whispered. “Help me up?” I held my hand out but Finn’s arm slipped under my neck. He lifted my head and pulled my body to his. Suddenly, my feet left the ground, and he snaked through the crowd, carrying me against his chest toward the door. Mari and Dun followed. Many pairs of eyes watched us pass, but none of them belonged to the man who’d stalked me.
“You sure you don’t need help getting her out of here? She’s pretty hefty,” Serena called out. “Corbin can take her feet.”
Finn stopped. “Shut your gob, you thundering bitch.”
I heard Mari verbally assault Serena as well with the threat of an upgrade to physical assault, followed by Dun’s voice urging Mari out of the building.
This was beyond mortifying. I threw my arm around Finn’s neck and buried my face in his pale skin, warm from the performance. His soft stubble tickled my temple. I could smell the faint odor of cloves. Taste his tattoo. My lips parted. Oh God.
“Okay, you can put me down now,” I gasped in a near-panic, afraid my tongue would snake out for a little taste without my permission. It wouldn’t be the first time my body acted of its own accord around Finn.
Finn kept walking.
“I’m good now. Honest. You can put me down.”
He stopped in the parking lot. I expected him to lower me to my feet, but he held me close. “That’s the thing,” he whispered into my hair, “I don’t want to.”
I didn’t want him to, either. I felt safe in his arms. We were warm together, and I knew I’d feel cold when he let me go.
Finn groaned, a sort of frustrated sound, and gently set my feet on the ground. I wobbled a bit and put my hand on his shoulder to steady myself. He slipped an errant curl behind my ear and bent to look in my downturned face. “Are you okay, Cora? Maybe you’re not quite well yet. Has anything like that ever happened before?”
I shook my head no, but that wasn’t the truth.
“What’s this about a man?”
“The man who followed me the other day…he was here.”
A deep crease of worry wrinkled Finn’s nose. “Did he say anything to you, do anything?”
“No. He never touched me.” He didn’t have to.
Mari was still in an uproar about Serena Tate when they caught up to us. “Thundering bitch?” She laughed. “I’m liking you more and more,” Mari told Finn with a pop of her gum. She touched my elbow. “Ready to go?”