Page 102 of Serpent In White

But then I hear something different… voices. They’re faint, whispers unlike those from nature. They sound like people speaking from afar, but I can’t tell where they’re coming from. I’m in my greenhouse and no one comes up here.

Walking as steadily as I can outside, I wander toward the cliff that overlooks the lake. It’s not crazy high, so I can see people mulling about down there. We have plans to build Darian a cabin next year, and a lot of work is being done to make a clearing, chop down trees, create lumber. It’s a whole process, but it will be very exciting once it’s built.

He deserves to live in a castle, not a trailer.

Watching them scurry to and fro I realize, even much to my own skepticism, that what I think I’m hearing are their thoughts. I mean, it’s hard to know for sure, but I’m hearing things that people would think, coming from them. The carpenters are worrying about measurements, the farmers thinking about crops. It’s faint, because they aren’t close, but still.

I think I canhearthem…

Needing to investigate this further, I hop onto my ATV and drive down the path toward the housing trailers. And as soon as I’m closer, the voices hit me like a proverbial ton of bricks.

Slinking off, I’m dizzy as I walk, hearing things; so many things.Everything.

A guy named Jason waves at me, but he’s thinking about how I make him uneasy. A woman named Shirley says hi, and she’s wondering if I’m seeing anyone. A guy named Justin passes me without a word, but he’s also wondering if I’m seeing anyone, the same thing he seems to be wondering about Jason.

Children run past me, and all I hear are thoughts about toys, and the animals they just came from feeding. I can practically see what they’re describing in their heads, and it has me spinning.

Blinking over and over, I rub my eyes. It’s not fading the way the high from the trumpets does. It’s been at least twenty minutes and the voices are as strong as ever, pounding inside my skull.

This is crazy.

I need to get to Darian. This high is so intense, and I have no idea what’s going on. Is it possible the psychedelics I’ve created have given me some sort of telepathic abilities? And if so, how?

My mind aches with the stronger question…Why?

I wander up to the trailer I used to share with Darian. The one I moved out of when people started joining our little community. I still remember the look on his face the day I told him I was leaving…

“Don’t go… Please.”

I shudder myself out of it as I knock on his door, not waiting for an answer before I push inside.

“Dar… something crazy is going on,” I rumble, rubbing my eyes again.

I don’t see him, but I can hear him. Actually… I hear two voices.

My heart rate picks up considerably as I step farther into the living room, turning toward the bedroom door, which is only partially closed.

I know I should leave. I shouldn’t even look where my eyes are aimed, I know that with every muscle in my body. But I can’t stop myself.

Neither can I stop my brain from hearing their thoughts.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been with a man…” says the male voice who isn’t Darian. My eyes settle on the bed, the bedweused to share, my breath leaving my lungs in a pained gasp. “It feels so good.”

“You’re so sexy,” says Darian in a hushed, aroused whisper only I’ve ever heard before. Or so I thought… “Keep touching me.”

The man is named Lars. I recognize him right away. He and his wife have been living here for about six months. He’s very nice, quiet and polite. And he’s gorgeous, a fact that’s hard to ignore, though I’ve tried. More so, I’ve tried to ignore how my brother notices it.

And now he’s on top ofmyDarian, kissing his lips.

My lips.

My heart is screaming inside my chest. I can hear it, louder than anything else, the sound nearly drowning out their thoughts about how good it feels to do something forbidden, something secret. The sounds are almost as painful as what I’m witnessing; Darian’s hands on Lars’s abs, slipping beneath his shirt. Lars’s hand on Darian’s crotch, rubbing him through his pants.

I feel sick, like I might throw up. I need to move; I need to leave, but I can’t stop watching. I’m frozen to the floor like a masochistic statue.

“Are you sure your wife doesn’t mind?” Darian hums into Lars’s mouth.

“Positive. We’ve done it before, together. She told me to just keep it discreet.”