The real world besieged her at once, a landslide of input that overwhelmed her senses and contorted her body. She bellowed, hugged her knees to her chest, and buried her face against her thighs. Wheezing, she rocked in the chair.
How would she track down David without their link?
I lost him.
Not yet she hadn't.
A hand caressed her hair. For a second, she imagined it was David. Then reality collided with her fantasy, shattering the illusion. She shook free of Amador's hand and lifted her head just far enough to peek at him over her knees. Tears blurred her vision, though they no longer streamed down her cheeks. She swiped at her eyes, sniffling.
Amador touched his fingertips to her cheek, then pulled them away. Concern tightened his features, and his lips parted in an unformed question.
"I'm fine," she said, though she felt nothing close to fine. Her eyes burned. White lights danced in her vision. Sharp pains crackled in her head, slowly coalescing into a throb that lurched her stomach. A migraine. Dammit. She could not afford this, not with David a hostage somewhere in Montana. If he was in Montana. She had no clue really. Tesler might've transferred him elsewhere. Despite the wild uncertainty about everything else, she could not deny one fact. Tesler would pummel David until he cracked — and exposed both their secrets.
He'll die first. She might've become an outsider in David's life, but she understood one basic truth about him. He was noble.
Amador leaned closer, his face pinched, as if he were in pain too. "What happened? Are you all right? Please tell me what I can do."
Nothing, she almost said. But the truth was, he could do something for her. As much as she despised asking him, she must. Desperation was a snarling bitch. "I need to find David before Tesler kills him." She slid her feet onto the floor and sat up. Muscles in her neck stretched. Hot pain spiked up her neck into the base of her skull. She winced, swallowing a gasp. "The psychic method of tracking him down did not work. I need another way. Do you have any suggestions?"
The tension smoothed out of Amador. He hopped up and gave a quick nod. "I may have a way. If you will be all right by yourself, I'll see what I can do."
"I'll survive." She'd lived alone for so long, even after David barged back into her life. What was a few more minutes? Beside, she needed a break. His voice stabbed into her brain, each word a red-hot, acid-tipped needle. The sound of her own breathing hurt her ears.
Amador asked, "Can you provide any clues as to David's whereabouts?"
"Montana. That's it, I'm sorry."
"It will be enough." He marched to the door, then hesitated on the threshold. "You may not believe this, but I wish no harm to David. And I will do everything in my power to locate him."
She didn't know whether to believe him or not, but she said, "I appreciate that."
He studied her over his shoulder, lips scrunched in concentration. "If your goal is to eliminate your migraines, then you must uncover the reason for them. I suspect you are hindering your powers, unconsciously, for some reason. Root out the reason, and you will free yourself — and your mind."
"You may be right."
"Try to rest. And I will search for David."
She forced her lips to form a weak smile. "Thank you, Biel."
He flashed her a quick, tight smile. And then he left.
The door clicked shut.
Free her powers. Free herself. Sounded great, but how the hell was she supposed to do it?
Root out the reason. Amador had a point. Although he knew nothing of her motivations, he sensed she throttled back her abilities. Until he spoke the words, she'd pretended not to realize the truth. She must acknowledge her fears, and sort them out.
To save David. To save herself.
At full power, with no migraines to saddle her, she might just save the whole damn world.
She buried her face in her hands. Pangs ricocheted in her head, as her gut roiled with nausea. Too weak to stand, she curled up in the chair, rested her head on her knees, and shut her eyes.
Some savior she was.
David squinted to see through a blood-tinged haze. His head lolled to the side, too heavy to hold up any longer. Everything throbbed or burned, from his scalp down to his toes. Tesler stood before him, legs spread in a confident stance, tapping the baseball bat on his palm.
"Shall we go again?" Tesler asked. "Or is one of you ready to talk?"
Spitting out blood, David hoisted his head upright. Pain lanced up his neck straight into his skull. He gritted his teeth. "Nobody wants to talk to you, Tesler. Your conversation skills leave something to be desired."
The scientist harrumphed. "We'll see how you feel when I start in on Sean."
David wanted to look at Sean, to assure himself mostly, but feared his beaten and bloodied appearance would terrify the boy more than Tesler had already. Sean was okay. In the past six months, he toughened up more than any boy his age should have to, but everyone had their limits.
At least no physical harm had come to Sean — yet. David served himself up as Tesler's punching bag. Or batting practice. The bastard packed a mean swing.
Unease trickled into him, the sensation strange and… external. He focused on the discomfort, struggling to name it. To trace its source. The unease burgeoned inside him, like a leaky balloon filled with ice-cold water, slowly disgorging its contents into him. The chill sharpened and mushroomed out. Fear knifed into his heart.
Grace.
The sensation crumbled away as quickly as it had bloomed. His connection to Grace dwindled back to a whisper, one he could discern only if he concentrated all his psychic energy on the task. Had she broken through the EM screen for a second? No, Grace, don't. Could she even hear him? Or feel him? Conflicting desires warred within him. The need to sense her, to feel her, to know she was all right. And the lightning-bright fear that she would reach out to him. Connect with him. Share his experience.
Suffer his torture.
Tesler pointed the bat toward Nkosi. "Perhaps you care more for your new friend." He strode one step closer to Nkosi. Raised the bat. Sneered. "Well, David? Shall we try this one on for size?"
David's nails rasped on the metal as he gripped the arms of his chair. A lacework of pain burst out from his knuckles to spread into his wrists. He choked down a gasp, denying the agony its outlet. Tesler would never see him grimace or hear him cry out. Never.
"No?" The scientist ambled past David, to Sean. He spun on his heels, facing the boy. Sean muffled a whimper. Tesler waggled the bat in the boy's face. "Will you tell me now, son?" He glanced at David, then back to Sean. "Or must I beat you to hurt your savior?"
"If you need to feel like a man," David hissed, "then make your statement on me. I'm the one you despise. I'm the one who ruined the plans you and JT cooked up together."
Tesler chuckled, his eyes gleaming with pleasure. "It was your darling girl who laid waste to those plans, not you." He stepped in front of David, straddling the chair, and leaned forward to grind David's left wrist beneath his hand. Agony ripped through his hand and arm, but he quashed it with gritted teeth. Tesler smirked. "You are a worthless specimen undeserving of being called a man. Your lover had to rescue you how many times? Perhaps she only stays with you out of pity."
The truth in his words stung like a smack to the face. David fought not to wince. Grace had saved him. Repeatedly. He wasn't much of a man. He couldn't argue with Tesler on that point.
Did Grace pity him?
If course not. She loved him. Her passion and affection nourished him during his worst moments. And yet, a sliver of doubt lodged itself in his psyche. Tesler had jammed the sliver in there. He knew this. But he could not silence the voice whispering into his brain.
How could she love you when you can't even protect her?
If he couldn't shield her from Tesler, then what good was he? Escape no longer seemed like a viable option. As long as he lived, he posed a threat to Grace. Tesler had been right about that too. He was leverage.
Protecting Grace meant saving her from her misplaced, pigheaded loyalty to him. He had one choice left. If he died, she wouldn't need to search for him.
At last, he had a plan. Stop Tesler. Save Sean and Nkosi.
Sacrifice himself for Grace.
Tesler poised the bat for a swing, zeroing in on Sean.
He froze. His brow furrowed, and his mouth warped into an expression of… anguish?
Stunned, David could only stare.
Tesler let out a frustrated growl. He tossed the bat aside. It clattered on the concrete, spun across the room, and bumped into the wall.
This mad man did not hold back from torture. And yet, he just did.
With a flick of his wrist, Tesler summoned a guard to his side. He snatched the semiautomatic handgun from the holster on the guard's hip. A snarled command sent the guard scuttling back to the doorway.
Tesler leveled the gun at David. "Last chance. Where is Grace Powell?"
David raised his chin. "Go to hell."
"No," Tesler said, his expression turning to mock gravity. "I won't be the one to make that journey tonight."
A gunshot cracked through the room.