The Awakening of Sunshine Girl (The Haunting of Sunshine Girl, #2)(10)

I won’t think about what that baby might have grown up to look like, sound like, act like all these years later. I won’t hope she was raised with love and support, that she had a good life up until now. I won’t be proud of her for passing her test.

I will only find the girl—and eliminate her.





CHAPTER FIVE

Danger





Aidan is waiting at the house when Mom and I get home from the hospital, wearing yet another perfectly pressed suit. This one is slate gray, with a pale blue tie secured tightly around his neck. I wonder if he even owns a pair of jeans, like the ones I’m wearing as I close the car door behind me. I wonder if he thinks that my mother is a slob because she’s still wearing the scrubs she wore when he met her, the same ones she slept in, sitting beside my hospital bed all night long.

“You should get packed,” Aidan instructs as we step inside the house. I notice he doesn’t wait for Mom to invite him in.

“Packed?” I echo.

“Wait a minute,” Mom interjects. “I said my daughter could begin her training with you. I had no idea that meant you’d be taking her away.”

Aidan nods solemnly. “I understand your hesitation. But I’m afraid we cannot afford to waste any more time.”

“You mean that what happened last night might happen again?” Mom blinks and I shudder, remembering how cold I was in the car.

“No,” Aidan answers. “Although, I suppose it might. But that is not the danger I’m concerned about at the moment.”

“My daughter is in danger?”

“She’s been in danger almost from the moment she was born.”

I reach out and take Mom’s hand. “What do you mean?”

“All I can tell you is you’re not safe here anymore and I’m taking you someplace where you will be.”

“Safe from what?”

He doesn’t answer.

“I’m not letting you take my daughter away from me without a good reason.”

“There are about a dozen reasons, all of them very good,” Aidan looks directly into Mom’s eyes. “But I can’t explain now.” He glances at his watch. “Time is of the essence.” Despite the cool January air, I think I see a hint of sweat on his upper lip. Wherever he’s taking me, he wants to get on the road right away.

“Will my birth mother be there?”

“No,” Aidan sets his lips into a line so straight and firmly shut that I can tell he’s not going to elaborate.

“What about school? It literally just started again.”

“Believe me, school isn’t important right now. The lessons you have to learn—”

“I know you’re new to this whole parenting thing,” Mom interrupts, “but I don’t go around telling my daughter school isn’t important.”

“Apologies.” Aidan glances at his watch once more, even though there’s no way more than a minute or two has passed since the last time he looked. “Sunshine’s teachers won’t even notice she’s gone,” he promises. “They’ll send you a report card at the end of the school year just as though she never left.”

Mom opens her mouth to protest—I know what she’s going to say, something about learning being more important than grades—but this time I’m the one who interrupts. “What do you mean at the end of the year? Just how long am I going to be gone?”

“As long as it takes.”

Another nonanswer answer. I’m about to ask As long as what takes, but I have a hunch he’s not going to answer—again!—so instead I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Nolan’s number. I’ve already talked to him once this morning to tell him exactly what happened last night.

Before I can hit the call button, I shiver as a wave of cold air crashes into me. It’s the unmistakable coldness of a nearby spirit, but this time it’s different. The sensation hits me like someone throwing a bucket of ice water over my head. Then I notice Aidan’s slightly outstretched hand, summoning the nearby spirit. He’s pulling it toward us with such strength and focus that my jaw drops in wonderment. In the blink of an eye the dead man’s spirit is upon us. He’s in his midsixties, half of his face is limp, sagging toward the ground, and the other half is filled with fear. He died from a severe and sudden stroke.

Quickly Aidan touches the man’s shoulder, and the spirit dissolves into a ball of light. Aidan’s face doesn’t register a single emotion. At once I’m in awe of his ability and disturbed by his lack of emotion. Is that my future?

Suddenly I remember what I was doing, and I hit the call button and press the phone to my ear as I wait for Nolan to pick up. “What about Nolan’s teachers?” I ask. Report card or no report card, Nolan’s going to be pretty upset about potentially missing a semester or more of school.

“Nolan isn’t coming,” Aidan answers.

“What do you mean he isn’t coming?” I echo, ignoring Nolan’s voice saying Hello on the other end of the phone line. “He’s my protector! How safe can wherever you’re bringing me be without him?”

“Our work doesn’t require him. And you know by now a protector’s role isn’t to protect you physically. He protects you by gathering the information you need to complete your tasks.”