Otherworld Nights Read Free Page A

Vasic stepped off the lecture platform and walked toward her.
    “Did you enjoy the class?” he asked.
    His voice was mild, no hint of mocking, but Talia’s cheeks heated.
    “It was very interesting, thank you.”
    “It can be, though it’s never as interesting as some students hope. No satanic rituals. No demonic possession. No exorcisms.”
    Her face burned now.
    “So how is young Adam?” he asked. “He looked quite happy the other day. Glad to miss an appointment, I’ll bet. No doctors poking and prodding, asking questions, pestering him about his dreams, his thoughts, his feelings …”
    “It’s been difficult for him.”
    “I’m sure it has been.” His eyes met hers. “For both of you.” He paused. “May I buy you a coffee?”
    Talia nodded, and let him lead the way.
    They talked until their coffees went cold. Vasic asked questions, and Talia answered. It never felt like an interview, though. More like confession. Talia had never been to confession—she wasn’tCatholic—but she imagined this was what it would be like, talking to someone who seemed to have all the time in the world to listen and was genuinely interested in everything she had to say. With each scrap unloaded, the weight lifted.
    She told him about Adam’s father. All of it, most of which she’d never breathed to another soul. No matter how “liberated” you thought you were, there was shame in admitting you’d become pregnant at seventeen, in a one-night stand, and didn’t even know the father’s name.
    But with Vasic, the confession came easily. He’d wanted to know everything about Adam’s father, obviously looking for a genetic link, so she’d told him everything, right down to the silly fancies that ate at her brain—the images of fire, the heat of his touch. Vasic had seemed fascinated, pulling out every observation she’d made, until he seemed to cut himself short, dowsing his enthusiasm and forcing himself to move on.
    One other topic had sparked that same excitement—her description of Adam’s “abilities.” That’s what he called them, abilities not problems. He’d asked again how old Adam was. And when had this started? Had he burned anyone since the bully?
    When they finished their coffees, Vasic leaned back in his chair as if digesting it all. His gaze flicked to the wall behind the counter. Talia followed it to a calendar that featured a photograph of a tornado. She’d seen Vasic notice it when they’d first walked in.
    “First,” he said as he tore his gaze back to Talia. “Let me reassure you. There is nothing wrong with Adam. He’s not a ‘budding pyromaniac’ or any other label they’ve assigned. I’ve worked with cases like his before, children with behavioral anomalies that science can’t explain. While his abilities may change as he grows, there is no cause for alarm. He will learn to manage them as we all learn to manage our special skills. That is where I can be of most assistance, Ms. Lyndsay. Helping you and Adam monitor and manage his skills.”
    Talia tensed. “How much is this—”
    He cut her short with a small laugh. “My apologies if that sounded like a sales pitch. I’m an academic, Ms. Lyndsay, and I deal only in the currency of knowledge. Yes, I will keep notes on Adam for my research, but he will remain an anonymous subject, and I promise you that it will be strictly observational. I’ll never subject him to any test or experiment for the sake of my work. My career is established. I’m not seeking to conduct groundbreaking studies, but simply to learn and to help others do the same.”
    “Learn about what? Does that mean you know what’s—” She stopped, realizing she’d been about to say
what’s wrong with Adam
. “You know what’s happening with Adam? If you’ve seen this before—”
    “If you’re asking for a label, I can’t provide one. I don’t believe in them. What matters is that you have a very healthy, very special young boy and that none of