The younger guy shook his head.
Then how could he hear me? Or could he hear me? Maybe he could just sense me? But how? I was looking into the past, wasn’t I? There was no way I could’ve linked with whoever signed the papers. Because that would be way messed up.
The younger one continued to stare in my direction. The look he gave me made my pulse race; it was like he was seeing through my soul. His muscles strained against his black T-shirt as he stepped toward me. His inky black hair made his amber eyes seem brighter. Holy shit. He was way sexier than my favorite Scotsman.
“They’re not going away. They’re still here,” he said.
“Do you know who it is?”
“No. But it feels familiar. I don’t know, but whoever it is, it’s like I know them.” He ran his fingers through his short black hair. “That doesn’t make sense.”
No. It didn’t. I’d never seen that guy before. I would’ve remembered meeting someone that hot.
The older man turned to me and said something in a language that I couldn’t understand. And then it was like something shoved me out of the vision.
The next thing I knew, I was on the ground in my father’s office.
Holy shit. What the hell was that? My vision actually interacted with me. The people in it knew I was there. That could mean only one thing.
Axel leaned over me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What did you see?” he asked. “What’s the story?”
I swallowed. There was only one logical conclusion, but it seemed impossible. But Occam’s razor hadn’t failed me yet. The simplest explanation was usually the correct one. And if that were true, then holy shit. I connected with whoever signed the papers.
Out of all the visions I’d had in my nearly eighteen years, nothing like that had ever happened before.
Not only that, but the older guy pushed me out of my own vision.
Could there actually be more people out there like me? And if so, then how did I not realize this sooner?
There had to be something to draw Dad to his new job. If St. Ailbe’s was a school for the gifted, I wanted in. Maybe. Probably.
This was insane. I had to talk to Dad before I got my hopes up, but there was no chance of that happening tonight.
Axel was asking question after question, but I ignored him. I needed air. And fast. That sensory overload had blown my mind. Possibly literally. Well, not technically literally. But still, all rational thoughts had fled.
I hopped up and swung the door open.
“Wait. Let me pick up—”
I left Axel to clean up the mess he’d made in Dad’s office. I probably looked as crazed as I felt, since I somehow managed to get to the backyard without touching anyone.
Even with our decent-sized backyard, there wasn’t a spot to disappear into. The pool took up most of the space. The path around it was sprinkled with cocktail tables, and people were packed around them, mingling. A bar was set up in the back and drawing a sizable crowd. The bartender was making a rowdy group a bunch of chilled shots, and a DJ played off to the right of the pool while people danced in front of his table.
This was a disaster waiting to happen. I didn’t think I could make it to the stairs without bumping into someone, but there was no other option. It was worth the risk. Being alone right now was a must.
Before I could go back inside, a hand closed around my upper arm. Full-contact skin against skin.
Shit.
I slammed into a mind I was familiar with. The fact that he went out of his way to touch me when he knew what I was only made him that much creepier. Images of his fantasies flooded my mind. Sweaty bodies. Naked bodies. Ones he wanted to be with. Those he had been with. And to top it off—a few fantasies starring me.
Was it necessary for Axel to invite every asshole in his class to the party?
I wrenched my arm away and spun to face Caleb. If his visions didn’t already make me want to kick his ass, his skinny jeans and hipster smile did. Usually I’d just shake it off, but not tonight.
“What the hell is your problem!” I shoved him hard, and he stumbled back a few steps. “Do you really want me to see what goes on in your disgusting little mind? Do you think I want to see when you and Jessica were banging in your backseat? Do you think it turns me on? Because it doesn’t.” I poked him in the chest with my gloved-finger. “And if you think that I’d ever consider—”
“Tessa!” Axel said as he stepped between us. I don’t know how long he’d been yelling my name, but from the silence in the backyard, I could tell it’d been at least a few times.
Shit. Why did DJs always lower the music for a fight? Didn’t they know that drawing attention to it made it worse?
I swallowed and looked around. And there was Mr. MacAvoy in the flesh, staring at me like I was a complete nut-job. Just perfect.
“Freaky Tessa is at it again. Bitch doesn’t—”
My brother spun. I didn’t have time to stop him before he punched Caleb in the face.