Touched - By Cyn Balog Page 0,67
Touches my ‘friends’ would be interested in, it’s because there aren’t that many left. I’m sure they would have clawed each other to death to get ahold of Evan’s Touch, even if they knew it would cause them tumors. That’s how shallow those girls are. That’s another problem. I attract all these weak people. But I can’t help them all.” She snorted. “Help. I know. Hilarious, right?”
I said, “Which ones are left?”
She didn’t need to look. “Flight of Song. Open Heart. Broken Ice. Invisible Assassin. Architect of—”
“Whoa. Invisible Assassin? That sounds brutal.”
She swallowed. “It is. I don’t … it’s the ability to kill whoever you want, in … It’s—”
As she spoke, I suddenly had this really uneasy feeling that made me grip the edge of the table. My thumb got stuck in something mushy on its underside. Taryn studied me and asked, “What?” as I pulled my hand away and saw a line of white gum that smelled like peppermint. Nasty.
I plucked a napkin from the dispenser. “That sounds like a pretty powerful Touch. And that other one. The one you’re doing tonight. The power to make people do what you tell them to do. You’re saying that in hundreds of years, your ancestors couldn’t find someone who wanted that Touch?”
“First of all, if you looked at every Touch in this book, you’d see that they’re all really powerful. And second, the ones left over are the hardest ones to perform. So my ancestors never recruited for them.”
“Recruited?”
“Well, we don’t actively recruit. When someone approaches me, if I touch them, I can tell what their need is. Or I can tell what Touch they’ve been given. If I have a Touch they might like, I’m supposed to take them aside and explain things to them. Grandma says she’s never had anyone say ‘no thanks,’ even after she explained how much it cost or what the dangers are.”
I smirked at the thought of my mom dropping everything and running to Babe’s tent with all the money in her savings account. Nan had said she’d been a free spirit, always doing things without care to the consequences of her actions. That was nothing like what I knew of her. I sat there, not speaking, thinking of my mother piling that money on the table in the tent and demanding her Touch. I wondered what she did when she realized that her life had been changed irrevocably for the worse. I wondered if she’d lost her sense of adventure overnight, or if it had happened in baby steps. Maybe she had tried to stay the free spirit she once was, but the Touch had eventually beaten her down, taking all the things she loved and twisting them into something ugly and frightening. Then I said, “I really can’t wait for tonight, then. Watching another unsuspecting person ruin his life. Good times.”
Taryn looked me up and down. She furrowed her brow for a moment. “I know it might be a lot to ask, knowing your mother … If you really feel bad about it.…”
“I said I’ll be there. I’m not backing out,” I told her.
“Thank you. Maybe we should have signals. In case Grandma suspects something. Like, if I yawn, that means get out.”
“Okay.” I couldn’t help sounding amused, which was probably why she thought I was making fun of her. She was really cute when she thought seriously about things. “And if you cough, that means all clear. I can come out.”
She nodded. “Right. And we should have a meeting place. The front of the arcade, next to the crane game with the fuzzy dice. If I run my fingers through my hair, it means we should meet there.”
I tried to think of what a secret agent would say, but nothing came to mind. “Got it.”
She stood up. “I’ve got to get going. Grandma will be there any minute. You know how to get to the hiding spot? Through the arcade?”
“No problem.”
“And …” She looked a little flustered. “You know, forget the cough. Don’t come out, okay? No matter what happens. If Grandma finds out you’re there, she’ll … I don’t know what. But it won’t be good.”
“Okay,” I said, shrugging.
The whole thing seemed kind of pointless, me hiding there, unable to do anything to help her, but then I thought of what she’d said. What if she died tonight? I didn’t see that happening. I knew when she would die. But we couldn’t talk of things like that. Not now. Not when