that fact. When I think back to everything Cleo told me last night, in witch world, I realize that’s what she was trying to tell me.
“Get over it, girl.”
It does sort of help that I have Marc along for the ride.
The guy is a lot cuter in person than in my dreams.
Yet why do I have anyone with me? I know from being inside Marc’s mind that he’s no witch. Hell, I can tell by scanning the room that I’m the only witch present. If I’m about to embark on some test of witch powers to determine if I’m fit to lead the Lapras, then the company I’m keeping makes no sense.
“Ask me after another ten minutes,” Chad replies to my question about us being in a jet. He adds, “It is possible we’re in the back of a large truck.”
“It’d have to be on one hell of a smooth road,” Marc says.
“It could have a high-tech suspension,” Chad argues. “I’ve read how such systems are currently being tested. Once a person’s aboard such a vehicle, and blindfolded, they can’t tell whether they’re moving or not.”
“You’re all assuming we’re moving,” Shira says. “I’m not so sure. That vibration we feel—it could be anything.”
Her remark appears insightful, and the room falls silent. Yet I know it’s not true. Since I awakened to my witch status in Las Vegas a month ago, I’ve become much more aware of where I am at any moment. It’s like a GPS signal has become activated in my brain. I’m not saying I can tell where we’re at, but I know— absolutely —that we’re moving rapidly. For that matter, I know we’re high up in the sky, extremely high.
“We’re probably in a jet,” I say. “And we’re probably up so high there’s almost no air. That’s why we’re not hitting any air pockets. People who flew in the Concorde used to say they never felt like they were moving. That’s because it flew above fifty thousand feet.”
“The Concorde got grounded years ago,” Marc says.
“That’s irrelevant,” Chad says to Marc, although it’s clear he’s impressed with my remark. “I think Jessie’s onto something. The military has jets that can fly miles higher than the Concorde. If we’re in one of those craft, we could be going faster than the speed of sound and not even know it.”
Marc shakes his head. “Sorry, Chad, Jessie, I don’t buy it. I’ve never been much for government conspiracies.”
“Then maybe it’s time we stopped and talked about who has abducted us,” Chad says. “Let’s look at the facts. You may have noticed I’ve been trying to keep track of when each of us was abducted. Accounting for the different time zones, it looks like we were all picked up at exactly the same time, even though we were spread all over the globe.”
“Shit,” Marc mutters in amazement as the truth of what Chad is saying sinks in.
Shira points to Marc and me, but speaks to Chad. “Don’t you find it odd that those two are from the same city?” she asks.
“Not really, not unless they know each other,” Chad replies. “You don’t, do you, Jessie? Marc?”
“No,” Marc says.
Shira points at me. “Then why did Jessie say, ‘It’s you,’ the second she woke up?” she demands. “When Marc was standing over her?”
I shrug. “Did I say that? I don’t remember. I was out of it. I thought Marc was my boyfriend waking me up.”
“You were awake,” Shira says firmly.
Chad raises his hand. “For now can we please just trust each other and assume everyone is telling the truth? It’ll make this go a whole lot faster.”
Shira gives me a dirty look. “Fine. Go on.”
Chad continues. “The reason I want us to consider that a government’s behind our kidnapping is because of the exotic way we were all knocked out. I mean, none of us got hit on the skull or belted in the nose. None of us had a cloth dipped in ether pressed to our mouth. No, we all saw a bright light and some of us felt like it grabbed us. That sounds pretty high tech to me.”
“Are we
“Get over it, girl.”
It does sort of help that I have Marc along for the ride.
The guy is a lot cuter in person than in my dreams.
Yet why do I have anyone with me? I know from being inside Marc’s mind that he’s no witch. Hell, I can tell by scanning the room that I’m the only witch present. If I’m about to embark on some test of witch powers to determine if I’m fit to lead the Lapras, then the company I’m keeping makes no sense.
“Ask me after another ten minutes,” Chad replies to my question about us being in a jet. He adds, “It is possible we’re in the back of a large truck.”
“It’d have to be on one hell of a smooth road,” Marc says.
“It could have a high-tech suspension,” Chad argues. “I’ve read how such systems are currently being tested. Once a person’s aboard such a vehicle, and blindfolded, they can’t tell whether they’re moving or not.”
“You’re all assuming we’re moving,” Shira says. “I’m not so sure. That vibration we feel—it could be anything.”
Her remark appears insightful, and the room falls silent. Yet I know it’s not true. Since I awakened to my witch status in Las Vegas a month ago, I’ve become much more aware of where I am at any moment. It’s like a GPS signal has become activated in my brain. I’m not saying I can tell where we’re at, but I know— absolutely —that we’re moving rapidly. For that matter, I know we’re high up in the sky, extremely high.
“We’re probably in a jet,” I say. “And we’re probably up so high there’s almost no air. That’s why we’re not hitting any air pockets. People who flew in the Concorde used to say they never felt like they were moving. That’s because it flew above fifty thousand feet.”
“The Concorde got grounded years ago,” Marc says.
“That’s irrelevant,” Chad says to Marc, although it’s clear he’s impressed with my remark. “I think Jessie’s onto something. The military has jets that can fly miles higher than the Concorde. If we’re in one of those craft, we could be going faster than the speed of sound and not even know it.”
Marc shakes his head. “Sorry, Chad, Jessie, I don’t buy it. I’ve never been much for government conspiracies.”
“Then maybe it’s time we stopped and talked about who has abducted us,” Chad says. “Let’s look at the facts. You may have noticed I’ve been trying to keep track of when each of us was abducted. Accounting for the different time zones, it looks like we were all picked up at exactly the same time, even though we were spread all over the globe.”
“Shit,” Marc mutters in amazement as the truth of what Chad is saying sinks in.
Shira points to Marc and me, but speaks to Chad. “Don’t you find it odd that those two are from the same city?” she asks.
“Not really, not unless they know each other,” Chad replies. “You don’t, do you, Jessie? Marc?”
“No,” Marc says.
Shira points at me. “Then why did Jessie say, ‘It’s you,’ the second she woke up?” she demands. “When Marc was standing over her?”
I shrug. “Did I say that? I don’t remember. I was out of it. I thought Marc was my boyfriend waking me up.”
“You were awake,” Shira says firmly.
Chad raises his hand. “For now can we please just trust each other and assume everyone is telling the truth? It’ll make this go a whole lot faster.”
Shira gives me a dirty look. “Fine. Go on.”
Chad continues. “The reason I want us to consider that a government’s behind our kidnapping is because of the exotic way we were all knocked out. I mean, none of us got hit on the skull or belted in the nose. None of us had a cloth dipped in ether pressed to our mouth. No, we all saw a bright light and some of us felt like it grabbed us. That sounds pretty high tech to me.”
“Are we
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