The Holders - By Julianna Scott Page 0,31

I speak fluent Gaelic. Oh, and my middle name is Michael. Was that everything?” he asked, grinning at me.

“That about covers it, I guess. You’re a pasta-eating, Sherlock-loving, Irish wannabe, who would drown if I pushed you in the lake,” I giggled.

“Exactly,” he said.

“Or at least I’m assuming you’re only a wannabe. You weren’t actually born here were you?”

“No, though wannabe is a little harsh,” he said, feigning offence. “I’m not sure where I was born, but I grew up in Texas.”

“So, I should add ‘cowboy’ to the list?”

“No, definitely not,” he laughed.

This was so nice. Once again, Alex and I were totally alone, and yet, I couldn’t have felt more comfortable. There was no awkwardness, or tension, just an ease and companionship I would never have expected to feel with a person I’d met only a few days ago. Maybe our strange connection was due to the fact that we’d done so much together in such a short amount of time, though I couldn’t help wondering if it was more than that.

Just as I was about to ask another question, something he’d said a moment ago stuck out in my mind. “You don’t know where you were born? How is that possible?”

“I was adopted.”

“Oh,” I said, hoping I hadn’t hurt his feelings.

He must have heard the reluctance in my tone because he smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s fine.”

“How did you end up here? Did your parents send you?”

“Not so much, no,” he said, shifting in his seat. “When I was about six, I started to see things. Things that weren’t there. Of course, now I know that my ability was starting to develop, and I was beginning to cast, but at the time I was only a boy who would randomly see monkeys running around the house or a large hole in the wall that no one else could see. My parents were convinced there was something wrong with me, while I couldn’t understand why no one else could see the things I did. I was taken to doctors, and specialists – anyone my parents could find – but no one had any answers. Finally, one of the doctors referred us to a special facility that was said to offer unique programs and state of the art treatments for difficult cases.”

“Like a research facility?”

“No, a… mental facility,” he said, glancing down.

My eyes widened, but I didn’t comment.

“They took me there one morning for a series of tests that would last overnight. They checked me in, wished me luck, and told me they’d see me in the morning. That was the last time I saw them.”

I stared at him, not comprehending. “Did… did something happen to them?”

He smiled, though there was no humor in it. “That’s what we thought at first. The doctors and nurses tried to contact them, but they had filled out all my admission forms with false information. By the time they found our real address, my parents had moved. They had never intended to come back for me.”

“They just left you there?” I was outraged. “But there was nothing wrong with you!”

“They didn’t know that. Even I’d started to think I was crazy.” He paused for a moment while I sat there silently dumfounded. “As it turns out, it was a lucky break that I was considered mentally insane, as that meant I couldn’t be put into the foster system where I probably never would have been found. I lived there in the facility for seven years, until…” He hesitated, glancing up at me. “Until Jocelyn found me and got me out when I was fourteen. He brought me here, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“What do you mean, ‘found you’?”

“He was on a scouting trip and came across my file.” He saw the question in my eyes before I had a chance to voice it. “Scouting is what we call it when we go out and look for people who might be Holders and don’t realize it. For the past few years, Taron and I have done the scouting together. Most of the time we are looking for kids. Every so often we find an adult, but it’s rare. Rarer still for us to bring an adult back with us. If a Holder reaches adulthood with no pronounced issues, it’s usually because his ability is too diluted to be noticed. In those cases, it’s best to leave well enough alone. Anonymity is very important to us, and the fewer people who know about us the better.”

“But

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