The Dysasters (The Dysasters #1)(91)

“This is too weird,” Charlotte said. “Look, if you have something to tell us, fine. I’ll give you my phone number and maybe we can talk sometime, but not here. Not now.”

“Your parents went to a lot of trouble to conceive both of you at a special clinic in Portland, Oregon. Did you know that?”

Eve’s words made Bastien’s body go rigid as Charlotte felt ice enter her blood. Her mother and father had told her over and over about the fertility treatments at the famous clinic in Portland, and how much the in vitro fertilization had cost—like it had been Charlotte’s fault her mother’s uterus was unable to conceive a child.

“Who exactly are you? What does Mr. Bowen have to do with this? And what do you want?” Bastien’s voice was flint.

“Your annoying questions have given me an excellent idea,” Eve said. “Bowen can help me explain all of this because he doesn’t lie. So, tell them what this has to do with you, old man.”

Mr. Bowen ignored Eve and Mark, speaking only to Charlotte and Bastien. “My grandson, Tate, he’s like you two, only he has a special connection with air. His friend, Foster, has it, too. There are eight of you—four pairs. Each pair is connected to an element. They’re after me because my grandson and Foster have managed to stay free of them and they’re trying to trap the two of them by grabbing me. Who are the four of them? Well, they’re jackasses who are brainwashed goons for the biggest jackass of them all—the scientist who did this to you, Rick Stewart. Far as I can figure, he’s crazy as a damn bedbug.”

“That’s it, you old pain in the ass! I’m so done taking your shit!” Luke started toward Bowen. His hands were raised, and Charlotte saw that they were glowing, like candle wicks, causing the rain falling on them to sizzle and turn to steam!

Mr. Bowen’s big dog, who had been growling softly ever since the four had made an appearance, stalked forward, teeth bared menacingly.

Luke’s small, mean eyes glittered with excitement. He snarled at Bugsy and stomped at her, obviously baiting the dog. And it worked. Barking furiously, Bugs-a-Million lunged forward.

“Bugsy, no! Come back—” Bowen began. The big dog paused and turned her head to look at her master.

Charlotte hadn’t been able to take her eyes from Luke’s burning hands, so she saw everything—how Luke flicked his wrists, somehow throwing the glowing flames at Bugsy!

The flames landed on the dog, lighting her fur instantly as Bugsy’s growl changed to howls of pain.

“No!” Bowen shouted. He ripped the sweatshirt from around his waist and sprinted to the dog, but as the fire caught more of her fur, Bugsy panicked and ran. “Bugsy! Come, girl! Come!” Bowen cried as he rushed after her.

No, please don’t let that sweet dog burn to death! Charlotte was frozen with horror. She couldn’t think. She only felt. Instinct flooded her as the beautiful, magical voices echoed from the ocean and filled her ears with words she suddenly understood, “Put it out! Put it out! Put it out! Drown fire! Drown fire! Drown fire!” The strange song blasted through her mind until Charlotte couldn’t bear the pressure of it anymore, and the words exploded from the depths of her soul as she screamed them: Put it out! Drown fire!

From the seething ocean an enormous arm of water lifted. As if it was sentient, it crashed past the shoreline, lifted again, gaining energy and speed as it followed the panicked dog, passing Bowen and easily catching her, it poured over Bugsy, extinguishing every bit of the fire.

Charlotte didn’t realize that she’d moved with the wave until her running feet tripped over a rough tuft of sea grass and she almost fell headfirst into the sand, but Bastien’s strong hand was there, steadying her and helping her to her feet.

That’s when it happened. The instant they touched. They were at the shoreline, just yards away from Bugsy and Bowen, but Charlotte wasn’t looking at them. She only had eyes for the ocean and the beings of ethereal beauty she could finally see, just beneath the surface. The creatures, shimmering like the Northern Lights, were huge, but as graceful as hummingbirds and as delicate as butterflies as they circled and frolicked in the waves while they sang and sang and sang the wordless melody Charlotte had been listening to since she was a little girl.

“So beautiful! I—I can’t believe how beautiful they are!” Mesmerized, she spoke to herself, as Charlotte was in a watery world of her own—until she realized Bastien was still holding her hand.

“You can see them!” he said, staring at her with eyes wide with shock.

Through their joined hands, Charlotte could feel him trembling. “I can.” She spoke softly, reverently, as if they were in a fantastic library or otherworldly cathedral. And then she understood. “You can hear them, too!”

Bastien nodded, his eyes bright with tears. “I can! I have always been able to see them, but I’ve never heard them before now, this moment.”

“And I’ve always heard them, but never seen them. Not until now.”



“Don’t they terrify you?”

Charlotte turned with Bastien to face Mark. He was standing beside them, his handsome face white with fear as he stared out at the waves.

“No,” Charlotte answered automatically, and though she wanted to reach out to the man, she stopped herself and held tighter to Bastien’s hand. “How could they terrify anyone? They’re beautiful.”