Okay, then.
The back wall of the warehouse had been set up with a desk and several tables, the surfaces covered with a computer, two scanners smaller than the one Maya was using, and boxes and boxes of books. Gray wandered over to one of the tables, where he straightened a slightly crooked pile of books before turning back to Maya. “Want some help?”
Without looking up, she swept up a box cutter and tossed it toward him. “Grab a box.”
A frisson of warning flickered up his spine, like someone had a bead on him and a laser dot was about to show up dead center on his chest. “I’m sorry, Maya. Truly, I am.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” Her gaze stayed fixed on the screen as the scanned pages flickered across it. “Like I said, Dani likes to tackle me in firefights, too. I get instinct. I just wish y’all’s instincts weren’t convinced I’m helpless.”
He sliced open the nearest box, grimacing at the slightly musty scent that spilled out of it when he pried open the flaps. “I don’t think you’re helpless.”
She made an amused noise. “Really?”
“Really. Look, I understand that you could probably tell exactly where those shots were coming from in an instant, but it took me a second, all right? I thought someone was shooting at us. And bullets hit capable people just as hard as they do helpless ones.”
Another amused snort. “I’ve got a good memory, not psychic powers.”
An entirely different sort of alarm jolted through him. “Maya? Don’t you train?”
“Uh, all the damn time. Cardio, hand-to-hand. Rafe’s making me wrestle him with the stun gun now.”
“How about ranged weapons?”
“I’m proficient with small- and large-caliber semiautomatic pistols,” she recited obediently. “I’ve even trained with Mark series rifles, but that’s more Dani’s speed than mine. I like my Ovechkin 9mm. Not too light or too heavy, decent capacity, manageable recoil. Oh, and I have a crossbow. Half points for efficiency but double points for style.”
She’d mentioned nothing beyond regular target practice. Gray clapped his hands together. “Okay, then. Who else can do this here? What about that lady who helps out around here sometimes, the one Luna has a crush on?”
“Who, Tai? She already helps with this.” Maya shot him a sidelong look. “But it’s not like scanning is beneath me or something. I’m the one who set up the digital catalog and figured out how to automate metadata importation from the scanner.”
“Uh-huh.”
The scanner beeped softly, and Maya removed the book and checked the listing on her computer. After a second, she pursed her lips. “I admit, it is slightly less exciting now that I have it working reliably.”
“I’m already about to fall asleep.” He plucked the scanned book from her hands and set it aside. “You should be training.”
Maya groaned. “I know how to shoot—”
“We’re gonna do something different,” he corrected. “Question: how does ear protection work for you?”
Maya shrugged. “I use it sometimes, but I’m not sure I really need it. Loud noises don’t bother me on their own.”
Whatever the TechCorps had done to her, they’d been smart about it. A data courier who could be disabled with one good sonic boom would be useless to them. “No ringing in the ears, muffled hearing, nothing like that?”
“Nah.” Her teeth sank into her lower lip, and she gave him another quick, sidelong look. “Sometimes I get overwhelmed, but that’s not really about volume but duration. And you saw me at those underground fights. I have a couple of triggers.”
“I remember.” Her reaction that night had been as familiar to him as his own name. He’d seen it often enough while serving in the Protectorate, though brass always denied post-traumatic stress was an issue for their soldiers.
Like hell it wasn’t.
Gray dusted off his hands on his jeans. “Tomorrow. You’re gonna show me what kinds of tricks you can do with that brain and those ears of yours.”
Maya groaned and spun around on the stool. “Not this again. Conall has been giving me shit all month. I mean, I’m good at math, sure. I can calculate trajectory or hustle you at pool. But it’s not like I have superpowers.”
“Sure you do. You remember everything you hear.”
She stared back at him in exasperation. “And?”
“And what?”
“Exactly.” She threw up her hands. “So what? I tried listening to that guard the other night, and I couldn’t figure out how far away he was. If remembering everything helped, maybe I wouldn’t have a shiner today.”
“Maya, it’s not magic. Perfect auditory recall won’t help you judge how far away a sound is on its own.” He took her hands in his, stilling their fluttering movements. “You still have to learn. But once you know what it sounds like when a ninety-kilogram man in tactical boots walks on gravel one meter away, or three, or ten? Your brain won’t forget it like everyone else’s does. And you’ll be able to use it.”
She stared at him, her brow adorably furrowed. Her hands trembled slightly in his. A moment later, one of her boots began to thud softly against the rung of the stool in a steady rhythm, as if the nervous energy had passed to her feet. “Huh,” she said finally. “So … like a key.”
“Yeah, sure. A legend on a map.”
“I guess that makes sense.” She tilted her head. “It’s weird. The TechCorps had a million selfish reasons to convince me I was only good for one thing. I know that. But sometimes it’s still hard to think outside that little box they put me in.”
Remorse struck him like a blow to the sternum. “Sorry, I didn’t—”
“No. No. I don’t want to live in the box.” Her full lips curved in a tentative, almost shy smile. “Just let me get my head around it, okay? It’s kind of always been the thing, you know? Dani and Nina have superpowers, and I win trivia night.”
Here it was, right in front of him. A way he could help, something he could do that would make a real difference for Maya. “I need the rest of the day to put something together, but we can start tomorrow morning.”
She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “I can do that. Tai can cover walk-ins for a while.”
“It won’t be quick or easy,” he added as a belated warning. “Training like this will take a lot of time and effort, even for someone like you.”
“You know you’re not really selling this, right?” She shook her head and spun back around on her stool. “Don’t worry. I let Dani toss me around the training room and Rafe growl at me about Tasers. I think I can handle you.”
“Famous last words, darling. Famous last words.”
She snorted. “Now you’re just asking to get forked.”
“Maybe.” He started pulling books from the box and stacking them on the table in a careful pile. “I thought you were avoiding me.”
“Avoiding you?” She glanced at him, her expression contrite. “No. I’m sorry if I was—”
“No, I was—”