Part Da Vinci Code, part Beautiful Mind, the everyday superhero felt as if she was waking into a psychological adventure film. The longer she watched and listened, she soon realized Nate's behavior was leading toward live performance. On one hand, he'd given a confirmation that he was okay. On the other hand, she didn't believe him.
“Something else wants you. Something tried to take you from us. Why?”
Do what now?
“What’s in this book that would make it worth stealing.”
Oh, he meant the book. That made sense. Her threat level fell back down to a 6 from a 9.
“I don’t quite understand this place. Is it a school? A clandestine militia? Both.”
She took utensil she was handed and bit her lips together in silent contemplation at his questions. There was the pitch they gave to families, the pitch to rescues, the pitch to investors, the pitch they gave to militaries... The truth was floating somewhere in that venn diagram. "It's a family." He wanted to know; that was the real pitch. "No religion or anti-government agenda," she added, her warm expression turning quickly to one of reassurance. They weren't a cult. "Charles started this place as a school and gave his family's estate to help protect mutant children, then outcasts and beyond. Those of us who grow up here sometimes stay, or come back. We all use our abilities to help one another; we've had decades of practice." It was her way of explaining their earlier precision. "We have codenames to protect ourselves when we have to travel to provide aid. Or for situations like tonight." Those who were out as mutants sometimes faced "harsh criticism". She could have gone on and on about the things they did at the school and how proud she was to be a part of it, but there was a pressing matter.
Sacrifice, yes, it was a given. She had a few bargaining chips that would never reach the table, so her hesitation was probably apparent. She nodded, though, urging him to continue, but the topic shifted from the journal. She'd been prepared to slice her arm and read from the journal, or chant Sumerian, anything. The book seemed to be less important to Nathaniel than finding out who had been seeking it. He wanted to sweep the astral grounds, she realized.
Her fellow mutant spoke for a long time, with purpose. Eva listened carefully and trained her breathing to control her heartrate. Her eyes shut slowly a few times throughout his explanation, but remained focused on Nate's face during his very bad pep talk. Her walls were up. All of her training with telepaths and her father had come swooping in. She'd all but tuned out the vibes from the book and the strange energy she already felt had filled the room. If she needed to be more open or receptive, Nathaniel was going to have to offer a hand.
She swallowed and her left hand hovered above the table, fingers fiddling and making tiny sparks as she contemplated her immediate future. Before she let her hand drop, the other hand outstretched to Nate. If she didn't have an anchor, she wasn't going sailing. Her eyes were big and hopeful as she stared up at the man beside her. "I hope you have some flares in case of a T-Rex." But a T-Rex isn't what tore a few limbs from her father...