Keepers of the Flame

“What?” Bri asked as she turned the key in the ignition.

“You really are going to nursing school,” Elizabeth said.

“That’s right. I finally decided your way was the best.” Bri pulled away from the curb. “I’ve learned a lot, but I’m tired of the traveling. I can use my gift in the established medical community.”

“I see,” Elizabeth said, but the car was dark and Bri thought that Elizabeth had shut her eyes.

“You’ll be a dynamite doctor with the benefit of our gifts. It’s too late for me there, I don’t want to take the time to go through med school, but nursing…yeah, I can do that.”

More, heavier silence.

“All this time I’ve been sneered at because of my ‘flaky’ ideas and you’ve been the good twin because you followed Mom’s path through medical school and didn’t make waves.”

“A little resentment there?” Elizabeth asked in a steady voice.

“Okay. Maybe. But I honestly think you need to admit to yourself that you have a special gift and you chose a career to use it…and you hide that you use it. I don’t mind you hiding it—”

“Liar.”

“Okay, some resentment there, too, but I’ve come to accept that you must hide it.”

“My way is not your way.”

“Oh, honey, I know that! But I want to hear the words from you. Just once. Come on, it isn’t difficult. Just say, ‘I have a special gift for healing.’”

“You don’t want much,” Elizabeth muttered. Her voice broke.

Bri pulled to the side of the road. Tapped her head on the steering wheel. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. I’m sorry, you have too much else to handle, and here I’m demanding more. Twin, you need this vacation.”

“Tell me about it.” Elizabeth was blowing her nose again. “I’m too damn sensitive to every word. Every glance. And being at Denver Major where Cassidy is….”

“And now your gift reminds you of him, too. Damn it!” Frustration welled through Bri. Her twin needed her comfort, but Bri, too, needed something from her sister—support, understanding. But here and now wasn’t the time to demand it. She’d been impatient. Releasing her tight grip on the wheel, she opened herself to what she thought of as the healingstream, let the power soothe her, tingle into her hands and warm them. She set her palm on Elizabeth’s shoulder, feeling her sister’s energy field, more, her struggle against anger and depression. Bri sent the warm flow into Elizabeth.

After a moment, Elizabeth said, “Thank you.”

“I have a special gift for healing.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Yes, you do.” She leaned her head back on the seat rest, but said nothing about her own gift and that hurt Bri.

She rolled her shoulders. She wouldn’t give up, she’d just let the tender subject go—for now. She rubbed her hands to absorb lingering energy, then touched the steering wheel to ground herself. She checked the street and pulled out into light traffic.

Elizabeth said, “Cassidy is incredible. He’s a better physician than I am.”

“No!” The word exploded from Bri. “Never. He’s not. He may be more brilliant. He may have gone through the damn programs like a rocket, but he is not a better doctor than you. You’re twice the physician he is. And you know why? Because you have heart.”

Elizabeth blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that. Heart. Huh.”

“Huh yourself.”

Bri drove down streets overhung with leafy branches.

Elizabeth’s breathing evened. Bri felt her sister’s glance, but said nothing. Elizabeth inhaled, let her breath out slowly. “Don’t ask me to go in a direction I’m not ready for. I don’t want the topic raised again.”

Bri found her teeth set, and deliberately relaxed her jaw. Again. There was no place like home and family, and no one who could push her buttons so easily as Elizabeth.

Bri turned the car east and a wave of sound washed over her, through her. “The sounds of chimes and stuff is getting louder.”

Elizabeth said nothing, but she’d stiffened.

“Chanting mostly. Sheesh, don’t even need to turn on the radio.” She cocked her head. “Maybe I should have said merde. Sounds like French.”

There were a couple of minutes of uneasy silence, then Elizabeth finally said, “Never did like those French classes in school.”

Then she did hear it, too! Bri kept her tone light. “When you visited me in Cannes, you spoke French with a better accent than mine.” A tinkle of chimes rippled, then settled inside her, coiling. She flexed her fingers. “Do you recognize that?”

“What?” The word sounded dragged out of Elizabeth.

“The chimes are the tones associated with the seven chakras: C, D, E, F, G, A, B.”

“Leave it to you.”

A gong sounded in her mind. Elizabeth flinched beside her. “Put on some speed. Let’s get home.”

“Right.”

The rest of the drive passed in a rush, both physically and emotionally. Chanting blocked out all other sounds—except for the chakra chimes and the occasional gong. The rhythm was odd, Bri couldn’t catch hold of any pattern, but it wound her so tight she was near panting.

Elizabeth gave a little moan, rubbed her temples. “I can’t anticipate the beat.” She squirmed. “It seems to be having a physical effect. My skin prickles.”

“So does mine. Nerve endings do you think?”

With a choppy exhalation of breath, Elizabeth said, “Probably. I have my medical bag up in the loft. We can check this out.” She sounded as if she was reassuring herself as well as Bri.

“Of course,” Bri said, pulling into the underground garage and parking in Elizabeth’s space.

They got out. Bri grabbed the freezer chest and Elizabeth both bags of potatoes. As they hurried to the elevator, Bri realized her whole body trembled—the chanting was spiraling, rising with excitement, with demand. She glanced at Elizabeth and saw a huge flickering multicolored banded aura. Bri’s breath whooshed out. She noted her sister wouldn’t look at her. “This is scary.”

2

“Scary,” Elizabeth said, jabbing at the elevator button. “Everything will be fine in a few minutes. We’ll figure this out.” She tilted her head in Bri’s direction. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“Likewise.” The sounds had affected her heartbeat; the chanting sped it up, the chakra chimes tugging at different internal energies. She didn’t like the sensations.

The elevator dinging melded with everything else and she didn’t notice it until the steel gray doors opened and Elizabeth hustled in. The black rubber-edged doors nearly closed before Bri hopped inside, stumbled to the far wall and braced herself.

Elizabeth pressed thirty-four and the elevator rose.

Too slowly. Bri’s vision was morphing. Sound seemed to take shape, with pastel clouds of pink and green and coral whirling around them. Bri gulped.