seeing it gathered in one place like that, I wondered how I’d managed to accumulate so many belongings, to put down so many anchors in this city that still wasn’t mine.
“Are you okay?” Jackson asked me, and I realized I’d been sitting in the passenger seat in silence for a dozen blocks.
“Just thinking,” But I couldn’t tell him about what. I’d been wondering why I didn’t just go home. It would be easier. I would have a place to live, a job at the B&B. It wasn’t just the prospect of being around shadowminds, not anymore. Some part of me wanted to prove I could make it on my own.
After we returned the truck, I asked Jackson to drop me off downtown. I was scheduled to work—if I still had a job—but I had one more errand to run before I went in. I headed to one of the fancy department stores on Market Street and asked the first cashier I saw where the gloves were.
I’d never bought gloves before. I hadn’t needed them in Louisiana, and they definitely weren’t necessary in San Francisco. They’d always seemed like a frivolous accessory, the kind of thing people bought to match their coats and never really wore. Now, I needed them for practical reasons.
I tried on a dozen pair before I found some that felt right. They were a little darker than the color of my skin, but if I wore long sleeves I hoped they’d only be noticeable when I took cash or handed over drinks. And anyway, gloves were better than accidentally neutralizing a customer. I tucked them into my back pocket and headed for the speakeasy to see if I still had a job to go back to. After the way I’d left yesterday, I wasn’t entirely sure.
I got to the door behind the Dumpster at Featherweight’s and fished for my keys, only to realize I’d left them at Jackson’s.
“Dammit,” I said to the door. I didn’t want to call Malik and ask him to let me in before I even knew if I was still employed. I turned to head into Featherweight’s, hoping Caleb was working, and jumped when I saw Paulie standing right behind me.
“Jesus, Paulie. What are you doing here? The bar doesn’t open for hours.” I pressed a hand to my chest, breathing hard.
“I know,” he said. “I was looking for you.”
I frowned. “What for?”
Before I knew what he was after, he’d lunged forward and grabbed my hand, covering it with both of his. I stared at him in shock, and the prickling of the power transfer built where his skin touched mine. I yanked my hand back.
“No!” he said, making a grab for me again. I stepped back and gave him an astonished look.
“You want me to ground you?”
“You don’t understand—it’s constant. I can’t handle it anymore. If you could make it stop, even for just one more day, I swear...I’ll pay you, I can get money—” He put his hands on my arms, gripping.
“Jesus, Paulie, stop!” I shook his hands off. “You think I’d make you pay me?”
“I’m desperate, Mina. Please.”
I had no trouble reading his expression. He was pleading. I couldn’t imagine wanting something like this, but then, I didn’t have Paulie’s gift. It couldn’t be easy, not being able to block out emotion. All shadowminds with any kind of telepathy went through this phase as kids—when your powers were mature but you couldn’t quite control them yet. I remembered being in high school, picking up on everybody’s raging, overemotional crushes at once, feeling as if my head were a radio receiver for the whole school’s teenaged angst. It was a rite of passage—you learned how to deal because you had to. Maybe it was harder for empaths.
“Please, Mina.”
It was like kicking a puppy to disappoint this guy. I didn’t have it in me. “Okay,” I said. “Fine. Let’s just try it and see how it goes.” His eyes lit up. “I may not be able to do this every day,” I added, a little scared of the way he was looking at me.
“That’s okay,” Paulie said, nodding rapidly. “I understand.”
I took a deep breath
“Are you okay?” Jackson asked me, and I realized I’d been sitting in the passenger seat in silence for a dozen blocks.
“Just thinking,” But I couldn’t tell him about what. I’d been wondering why I didn’t just go home. It would be easier. I would have a place to live, a job at the B&B. It wasn’t just the prospect of being around shadowminds, not anymore. Some part of me wanted to prove I could make it on my own.
After we returned the truck, I asked Jackson to drop me off downtown. I was scheduled to work—if I still had a job—but I had one more errand to run before I went in. I headed to one of the fancy department stores on Market Street and asked the first cashier I saw where the gloves were.
I’d never bought gloves before. I hadn’t needed them in Louisiana, and they definitely weren’t necessary in San Francisco. They’d always seemed like a frivolous accessory, the kind of thing people bought to match their coats and never really wore. Now, I needed them for practical reasons.
I tried on a dozen pair before I found some that felt right. They were a little darker than the color of my skin, but if I wore long sleeves I hoped they’d only be noticeable when I took cash or handed over drinks. And anyway, gloves were better than accidentally neutralizing a customer. I tucked them into my back pocket and headed for the speakeasy to see if I still had a job to go back to. After the way I’d left yesterday, I wasn’t entirely sure.
I got to the door behind the Dumpster at Featherweight’s and fished for my keys, only to realize I’d left them at Jackson’s.
“Dammit,” I said to the door. I didn’t want to call Malik and ask him to let me in before I even knew if I was still employed. I turned to head into Featherweight’s, hoping Caleb was working, and jumped when I saw Paulie standing right behind me.
“Jesus, Paulie. What are you doing here? The bar doesn’t open for hours.” I pressed a hand to my chest, breathing hard.
“I know,” he said. “I was looking for you.”
I frowned. “What for?”
Before I knew what he was after, he’d lunged forward and grabbed my hand, covering it with both of his. I stared at him in shock, and the prickling of the power transfer built where his skin touched mine. I yanked my hand back.
“No!” he said, making a grab for me again. I stepped back and gave him an astonished look.
“You want me to ground you?”
“You don’t understand—it’s constant. I can’t handle it anymore. If you could make it stop, even for just one more day, I swear...I’ll pay you, I can get money—” He put his hands on my arms, gripping.
“Jesus, Paulie, stop!” I shook his hands off. “You think I’d make you pay me?”
“I’m desperate, Mina. Please.”
I had no trouble reading his expression. He was pleading. I couldn’t imagine wanting something like this, but then, I didn’t have Paulie’s gift. It couldn’t be easy, not being able to block out emotion. All shadowminds with any kind of telepathy went through this phase as kids—when your powers were mature but you couldn’t quite control them yet. I remembered being in high school, picking up on everybody’s raging, overemotional crushes at once, feeling as if my head were a radio receiver for the whole school’s teenaged angst. It was a rite of passage—you learned how to deal because you had to. Maybe it was harder for empaths.
“Please, Mina.”
It was like kicking a puppy to disappoint this guy. I didn’t have it in me. “Okay,” I said. “Fine. Let’s just try it and see how it goes.” His eyes lit up. “I may not be able to do this every day,” I added, a little scared of the way he was looking at me.
“That’s okay,” Paulie said, nodding rapidly. “I understand.”
I took a deep breath
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