Vision

Dainler and I aren't in the same class. He stops 'em from being buried, and I dig 'em up.
 She handed him his coffee, then punched in her own.  You know, she whispered, with a shiver, and a glance toward the ICU. If he doesn't feel better soon, I might give Erik a call.
 Dusty won't like it.
 She looked over at him, her own eyes moist. Better than having to communicate through Merrie. Besides,  she added, if I don't, you can bet Valterzar will.

***

 Hey, Dusty. Ren put a cool hand on his hot forehead, jerked it away, then, with trembling fingers, put it back again. So hot. So weak. When she touched him, she could feel the burning in his veins.
 Oh, crap. It was the signal. She'd halfway hoped it wouldn't be there, because it scared her witless. It had only happened once before. With her sister. Maggie had fallen from a tree and was bleeding when Ren had found her. She'd touched her and held her and cried her eyes out, while Maggie had screamed the whole time to go get Mom. In the end, it had been Maggie who'd had to run for Mom, and Ren who'd had the broken arm.
 Ren had never spoken of it to anybody, but something had changed that day, between her and her sister. Maggie was two years older, and wary of a sister who could finish her sentences. As she grew up, and began to develop that secret life that all teens have, she'd grown as far away as she could from Ren. And, ever since that day in the orchard, there' d been a wariness between them.
 Dustin's eyes opened, and he looked at her. Knew it was you, he murmured. Must be psychic.
 Ren brushed a kiss across his lips, then took his other hand in hers.
 He sighed, and she knew he was glad to have her there.
 If he hadn't been so dazed, he might have realised what she was doing. Realised how much she might be risking. Might even have realised why she was willing to risk it.
 It was a risk, too. Josh would be furious, and feel more guilty than he did already; Dainler would feel violated, as though she'd intruded on his turf; Valterzar would smile and be pleased that he could add one more note to her file. And Dusty? Would he carry the same wary flicker in his eyes that Maggie had? Because she'd intruded far beyond his stray thoughts, and into his blood and bone?
 Kitten? he murmured, a trace of alarm in his voice this time.
 It's okay, Dusty, she whispered, trying to hide the huskiness in her voice. The quaver that might give away her fear. Because this was Dainler's gift, not hers. She'd always been afraid to use it. At heart, Erik Dainler was about as sensitive as stone. He could shunt away all the disease and injury because he never let it touch him. He never got involved with his clients; never took on their pain or their aches or their angst. She'd asked him about it once, wanting to know how he could heal without identifying with his clients' pain. Erik hadn't always been this cold or distant, so he'd somehow developed this shell, this insouciance. She'd wanted to know how - needed to know how - because it was a way of protecting herself, in case anyone got too close.
 Like now.
 A flicker of awareness told her Valterzar was getting impatient with the delays. They were only allowing them in one at a time, and he wanted to assess the situation himself. It was more than that, though.