The Merkabah Recruit
SJ’s fingers wrapped around my hand.
An energy pulse surged up my arm. I yanked my hand away, but the rolling wave of warmth went right to my heart and blossomed outward. I rubbed my hand, his touch still lingering on my skin like the faintest tickle.
“You felt it. Good.” He nodded, satisfied, as though I had passed a test. “Relax, Daphne. Look at the people. What do you see?” He pushed my Long Island Iced Tea towards me.
There were drunk people and desperate men and women laughing too loud and trying too hard to have fun. “What am I supposed to see?” I sipped the drink.
SJ’s lips twitched and his brow lifted. “You tell me.”
“I see people,” I shrugged.
“You see more than that.” His brown eyes twinkled from over the rim of his extra dirty martini.
“I see drunk people.”
SJ leaned close, his shoulder touching mine. “I know you sense the feelings and thoughts of others.”
My stomach flip-flopped. “Who are you?”
SJ tapped his chest, flashed his thousand-watt grin. “I’m your guide.”
“For what?” I sucked on the straw, tried to cool the embers burning in my belly. “Am I taking a trip?”
His forefinger made a little circle in the air. “You see a person’s true form.” SJ withdrew his accusing finger, speared his martini olive with the tiny plastic fork, and popped the olive in his mouth.
This conversation took a sharp left onto Creepy Town Road.
SJ was right about one thing though. I did need this drink. Maybe two.
“What do you mean?” I lifted the glass, drank down the sweet nectar as though it could help me deal with this. With him. With his knowing.
“You’re an empath with special skills.” SJ’s eyes seared like laser beams.
“An empath?” I pondered the ice cubes floating in my Long Island Iced Tea. Was he referring to my over-sensibilities about people? Referring to the bizarre impressions I get about someone? I never told anybody about that. People would think I was crazy. Once in while I let something slip to my sisters, who laughed and said I was weird. When I was a child, Mom accused me of having a fanciful imagination.
Slurp, swallow, repeat. The alcohol took the edge off my rising panic. I stared at my drink, the condensation on the glass as cold as the back of my neck.
SJ’s voice was low, its warmth encouraging and seducing. “An empath feels others’ emotions, but you do more than that. You detect people in their true form. The time has come to perfect this ability.”
I sensed his stare. Determined. Serious. Like a hot poker to my soul. I pretended fascination with the cocktail napkin. Confusion, curiosity, anxiety, and attraction swirled like a tornado around me. I didn’t dare make eye contact.
“We know you perceive strange creatures in human form.”
My heart jumped in my throat.