David jolted awake. The back of his head smacked into the wall, radiating pains through his skull. The hammering of his heart shattered the quiet inside the cabin, though only inside his head. Christ. He'd fallen asleep, despite his promise to Sean and Nkosi that he'd keep watch while they slept.
Burning wood crackled in the stone fireplace a dozen feet away. Tongues of flame licked the air and spilled flickering light into the living room, drowning out the pale moonlight beyond the windows above his head. Nkosi dozed on the sofa. Sean, curled up in an overstuffed armchair, watched David through half-closed lids.
Kill me.
A voice begged him, inside his mind. Kill me, David.
He jerked forward, palms on his outstretched legs, nails digging in. Grace was calling to him. Her energy coursed down their connection, her words a despondent plea. Why the hell would she ask him to kill her?
Amador.
David ground his teeth. The bastard must've hurt Grace. Tortured her. Driven her to the brink of insanity. For no other reason would she beg to die.
With a flourish of power, he reached out to Grace. Her life essence burned like a fireball, blazing into him, around him, through him. He gasped and pulled back from the link, from her. The withdrawal carved out a hollow space nothing could fill. Except her. With him, for real this time, not as a manifested entity of shocking power, but as the sweet and passionate woman he cherished.
He snaked out a tendril of energy, testing the waters. Grace, are you all right? Her love beamed into him — incandescent, gentle, endless — wringing tears from his eyes. Tears? God almighty, he had never cried before. Never. But bathed in her reverence, he could not stem the flow, because beneath the love simmered a darker energy that clawed for control of Grace. The Golden Power squatted within her, a ghost of limitless power, and it craved more.
Let it go, Grace, please let it go.
"What's the matter?"
Sean's voice, tight with anxiety, shattered the connection, yanking David back to the here and now. Gasping for breaths, he swiped at his eyes. Sean did not need to see him weeping. Aside from the macho reasons for hiding his tears, he knew the sight of them would ratchet up Sean's nervousness. David cleared his throat, straightened, and said, "I'm fine. Go back to sleep."
Sean slid off the chair and crawled across the bare wood floor to David — crawled because he'd admonished Sean to keep a low profile in the vicinity of the windows. "I can take over so you can rest."
"No thanks." As if he could take a nap knowing Grace was in trouble. Perhaps not physical danger, but the psychic variety might prove equally dangerous. The knowledge of her state, of the threat lurking in her own mind, grated on his last nerve. "I'd rather sit up a little longer."
"Me too." Sean scooted backward into the wall. "Can't sleep. Keep thinking about — stuff."
David eyed him sideways. "Tesler won't find us yet. Grace made sure of that. She'll come for us before any bad guys track us down."
"Yeah… " Sean drew his knees to his chest and folded his arms over them. "That's what I keep thinking about. Grace."
"What do you mean?"
"Her power. She's… scary strong." Sean flinched, as if in expectation of a slap. "I like her, you know I do, she's really cool."
But he was afraid of her. Who wouldn't be? David propped one elbow on his bent knee and cradled his forehead in his palm. "I know she was different the last time we saw her, but she's still the same old Grace." He prayed he wasn't lying. "She needs a little time to recover from using the Golden Power, that's all."
Sean stiffened. "She used it? Again? I thought she hated it. Why would she use it knowing what it does to her?"
David sighed, a long and wistful breath. Sean knew nothing about what transpired in the room with Tesler. About the deaths. About Grace's appearance. He scratched his scalp, his still braced on his palm. "She had to do it to save my life." Which made all of this his fault. He must right the wrong before Grace lost her humanity, her sanity, to the ultimate power. "Tesler killed me and Nkosi. Grace brought us both back."
Sean's mouth rounded into an O, his eyes widening. "Whoa. I didn't know she could pull that off, even with the Golden Power."
"Yes you do." David lifted his head to look at Sean. "She did it six months ago."
"Noooo, that was way different. We were injured, not dead."
Shit. Sean was right. The last thread of David's hope snapped. Grace had gone too far this time, too deep into the psychic realm. How on earth could he bring her back?
An ember of hope hid beneath the ashes. Earlier tonight, he coaxed her back from the depths. He could do it again.
How many times would his failures push her to take measures no one should have to resort to? He let her down in so many ways. Taking off on Tesler hunts. Abandoning her. Refusing to answer her questions. Ignoring her fears because it suited his needs, his quest for…
What? Protecting Grace, yes. If he was man enough to admit the whole truth, though, he had another reason for his obsession with Tesler. He sought redemption.
Did he deserve it? His betrayal loomed between them, a monolithic impediment, one she knew nothing about — because he was terrified to tell her.
Sean coughed and rubbed his neck. "You know, since my mom died, you guys are like my family." He fiddled with his shoelace. "So try not to get killed, okay?"
David leaned his head against the wall. "I won't let anything happen to you or Grace."
"Wish I could heal the dead. Can't even heal myself. Is the Golden Power really so awful?"
"You don't want it. Trust me."
Energy rushed through him, hot and sweet and oh-so-familiar. She was here.
David leaped up, tore the cabin door open, and barreled out into the night, toward the one thing in this world that mattered more to him than his own life.
Grace.
She spotted the cabin up ahead, through a screen of trees. Her heartbeat quickened. Her skin tingled with awareness. David. Their connection swung wide open, her mind welcoming his without reservation. The energy of him flooded into her, stealing her breath. She stumbled.
Amador seized her arm, steadying her.
She jerked free of him. "Thanks. But remember, the only reason you're here is because I need backup in case Tesler's men find us." She tapped the grip of the handgun strapped to his belt. "You sure you've got the stomach for shooting somebody?"
He bristled. "Yes. If you can do it, so can I."
"It's not a contest. Shooting people is… unpleasant." Memories flashed through her mind, sharp and blinding, but she cast them aside. "If it comes down to us or them, I need to know you can do whatever it takes."
Amador nodded. "I can. I will."
His expression gave away nothing, and a thought flitted through her brain. Maybe he likes hurting people. He tortured an innocent girl. Yet harming a helpless child was far different from firing on well-armed, well-trained muscle men. Would he cower in the face of real danger?
She let Amador tag along strictly because she realized he planned on trailing behind her if she rejected his offer to accompany her. Men. Psychotic or sane, they all had macho streaks laced with pigheadedness.
"Shall we continue?" Amador asked.
"Yes." She faced toward the clearing, and the cabin nestled on the opposite side. "When we get there, you do not speak or do anything unless I say so. Got it?"
"Of course." He grunted. "David will not be pleased to see me."
So naturally, Amador sounded quite pleased with himself for the future irritation he'd inflict on David.
Grace marched out into the clearing.
The cabin door banged open, the sound echoing off the trees. A figure rocketed outside, headed straight for them. Her heart pounded. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
She bolted toward David.
He swept her up into an embrace so tight it squeezed the breath out of her. She flung her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Her feet dangled in midair, but she cared about nothing except losing herself in the feel of his hard, warm body. Life surged through his veins, down their psychic link, pouring into her. She sealed her mouth over his, her fingers in his hair, his hands stroking her back. She savored the spicy taste of him, the delicious friction of his mouth on hers, the unique and irresistible scent of him.
"Oh man," Sean hollered, "you guys need a room so bad."
His taunt barely registered through the fog of desire. David had kissed her hours ago, in her manifested form, but this…
No comparison.
He set her down. His flavor infused her mouth, and she licked her lips. Though she yearned for more, she sensed his mood had shifted.
His hands settled on her hips. "'I'd like to finish that conversation we started yesterday."
"Oh, you mean when you tried to dump me?"
He shifted his gaze to the ground. His mouth twisted into a grimace. "Yes. I mean that conversation. You said it wasn't over, and I realized you were right."
"Great. Let's talk on the plane."
"No. We need to talk now. Alone. Please."
Ominous, she thought, but since Amador had no need to hear her misgivings, she said, "Sure. Give me a minute, though, okay?" She nodded toward Amador. "I need to have a chat with him first."
David's mouth compressed. "Why?"
"Because I'm trusting him with our lives and I need to make sure he knows how angry I'll be if he screws us over. His jet is our ride home."
"I've got a better idea." His lips quirked in a near smile. "Let's tie him up, steal his jet, and chuck him out over the Plains."
"Ha-ha." She skimmed her fingers over his cheek. "Trust me. I can handle Amador."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"No, it's a statement of fact." Christ. She prayed it was a fact, and not a self-inflicted delusion. "'Wait here."
She turned away from him.
A shiver of knowledge rattled through her.
She whirled on David, seized fistfuls of his shirt, and hauled him toward her. The force of her hold bent him over, his face inches from hers. Panic frosted her skin, iced her veins, and accelerated her pulse to mind-numbing speed. His own fear coursed into her, stronger now thanks to the physical contact. Her jaw trembled. Tears burned her eyes, tightening her lids.
His face blanched. He knew she knew.
"I can feel it," she said, her voice strained and rough. "Your fear, your anger, your absolute conviction that you're about to do the right thing. Did you think you could hide it from me?"
"No." Emotion roughened his voice too, though his expression was unreadable. "No, I — that's why I wanted to talk to you alone. To explain."
"Explain what?" She tugged him closer. Spittle sprayed his face when she spoke. "That you're abandoning me?"
"I'm not. I wouldn't."
Anxiety rippled through her from all around, not just from David, but from their friends too. Everyone worried when Mom and Dad fought. And weird as it was, that's what she and David had become. The parents of this dysfunctional family.
She released his shirt. Dragged in a long breath. Straightened her blouse. Cleansed her face of all emotion, and locked her gaze on David's, firing every shred of her anger and terror and adoration into him down their link. His eyes widened a hair, just enough to expose the fact her message had hit him, loud and clear.
"You're not coming with us," she said, careful to speak in a hushed tone, so no one else would hear. "You're staying, to fight Tesler."
"I have to." He matched her soft voice, his face as empty of feeling as hers must've been. She wasn't calm, not on the inside, but it felt like someone had poured concrete over her to contain her emotions.
"Grace, I'm sorry. I have to stay."
"Okay then."
She tromped toward Amador. David's gaze tracked her, pinned to her back like a ray of concentrated sunlight heating her flesh. She focused on Amador, and his bemused expression. The bastard enjoyed seeing her and David argue.
"I need you to listen," she told Amador. "Agree with everything I say and mean it. Then I'm going to ask you a few questions, which you will answer without hesitation — and you'll tell me the truth." She barred her arms over her chest. "Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good. You're taking Sean and this other guy away from here on your plane. David and I are staying." He opened his mouth, but she raised one palm to silence him. "No questions, no arguments. I speak, you agree. Understand?"
"I do. And yes, of course, I will take your friends to a safe location. I know of one — "
"Uh-uh. You're taking them to my grandfather."
His brow arched. "Edward McLean?"
"He'll protect them." She recited her grandfather's cell number. He was their backup location — their emergency hideout, a old farmhouse in Kansas, purchased under a false name with cash. Grandpa would take care of them, but he wouldn't trust Amador, a stranger. "Have Sean make the call and do whatever my grandfather says. Got it?"
He nodded. His lips moved, as if he wanted to speak.
She dangled her arms at her sides, trying to look nonthreatening. If he needed to tell her something, she probably ought to hear it. "What is it?"
"You should know the entire story. About me." He ducked his head, shoulders quivering, and croaked, "My wife. She couldn't handle Evander's death. She — " He jerked his head up, his eyes intent on hers and gleaming with tears about to spill forth. Yet his voice emerged in a hardened tone. "She cut her own wrists while I was away on business. After that I… " He clutched Grace's hands, lifting them to his face. His breaths flared over her skin. "I lost my mind, Grace, which I imagine is no surprise to you."
"It's not too late to come back from it."
"For me, I fear it is. Vengeance has eroded my soul."
Vengeance. She gulped back a swell of nausea. Amador was obsessed with the same goal as David — with the same target, Karl Tesler — and his compulsion toppled him over the edge. If David couldn't relinquish his quest, would he tumble off the same cliff?
Amador and David were different men, with different temperaments. David could survive what destroyed Amador.
The lunatic in question pressed the backs of her hands to his cheeks, shut his eyes, and sighed. A tear trickled down his face, oozing onto her skin. "I long to be as good as you, as strong and compassionate. But I'm weak." He nuzzled her palm. "Please try to understand. What I've done, I believed these were right things. You've shown me I was wrong."
"You need to understand something too." She took one step toward him, cupping his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. "I can help you, Biel, if you'll let me. You can reclaim your life."
He shook his head, pulling away from her hands. "No. I've gone too far. After my wife's death, I poured all my wealth and connections into hunting down Tesler. But when I found him, he took me prisoner simply to keep me from reporting what I uncovered about him." He averted his gaze. "I stole files from the Siberian facility, and that's how I learned of you. I prayed your powers could bring Tesler's world crashing down on his head."
"They still might." She glanced over her shoulder at Sean, Nkosi, and David — whose gaze drilled into her, though he watched without expression. Her attention glued to David, she told Amador, "Take Sean and Nkosi."
"You know the other man?"
"Huh?"
"Nkosi. You must know him, since you spoke his name, but he looks at you as if he's not met you before."
"I haven't met him."
"Then how do you know his name?"
The Golden Power. That was how she knew. Tiny blades dug into her heart, nicking and scraping at her soul. "Just do as I say. Please."
"You have my word." He fidgeted, his gaze darting left and right, up and down. Finally, he drew two objects out of his pocket and held his hand to her, palm up. "These may be of some use to you."
A glass vial rested on his palm. It contained pale yellow liquid. "The serum you gave me."
"Yes."
She took the vial, and poked the other object with her little finger. It looked like a pen with no writing tip and little button on one end. "What's this?"
"An autoinjector. It holds the counteracting agent. There is a single dose left, and it will last fifteen minutes at most."
"Thanks." The serum might prove useful, somehow. She palmed the autoinjector along with the vial and slipped them into her pocket. "Time to go our separate ways."
"Where will you go?"
David's energy infused her, warm and sweet and spiced with desire. Every iota of her being called out to him. "Where I belong."
Grace watched Nkosi and Sean stride off into the woods with Amador. Then she let David take her hand, leading her into the cabin. A fire crackled in the hearth. She inhaled the musty scent of dust and stale air, but the earthy aroma of burning wood overpowered the other smells. David tugged her toward the sofa, an overstuffed number with flower-print fabric. She sank into the cushions beside him.
He scooted away.
"What is wrong with you?" she asked. The instant she spoke, coils of ice unfurled inside her. What if he said he couldn't stand the taint of the Golden Power that lingered in her? What would she do then? What could she do? Wringing her hands, she bit her lip and waited.
The distance between them measured in inches, but it gaped like a vast canyon. She swore she could hear her words echoing back to her. Do not cry.
An emotion she couldn't puzzle out darkened his expression. She yearned to smooth the lines from his forehead with her fingertips, to brush away the tightening of his lips, to caress the tension out of his shoulders.
He slipped a hand over hers, his arm stretched across the gap between them. "It's not you, Grace. You're… perfect." He sucked in a ragged breath. "But I have to tell you the truth, and you won't like it. I don't expect forgiveness, I won't ask for it, but you need to know the truth."
His voice had quieted to a whisper, his tone bleak and fraught with pain. When he raised his chin, revealing his face, his expression unleashed a torrent of sympathy inside her. Never had she seen him so anguished, so defeated, so repentant. She lifted a hand, desperate to touch him, but pulled it back. Her hands trembled. She tried to rip her gaze away from his, but the connection between them imprisoned her. Their psychic link. It smoldered within them, between them.
His fingers tightened on hers. "You asked if it's true. If I killed someone."
Everything inside her froze. She stared at her fingers, at his laid atop them, at the creases of his knuckles. Oh God oh God, she'd changed her mind. She did not want to know. Her muscles went rigid, her heart pounded, and her lungs stopped functioning. David would not commit cold-blooded murder, but what if he'd been forced to kill in defense of himself or another? She could handle that. But what if Tesler pumped David full of drugs and coerced him into murdering someone? Suck it up and be here for him, like he's done for you. Yeah. She could do that. She must do it.
David retracted his hand. In a voice devoid of emotion, he said, "It's true. I am a killer."
"I — "
He pressed two fingers to her lips. "Shhh. Let me finish."
She swallowed, nodded, tried to smile but failed miserably.
"It was self-defense," he said, refusing to look at her. "Another traveler broke into my room and tried to coerce me into telling him who Janet Austen was. He thought if he found you, and delivered you to JT, then he'd be released unharmed." David withdrew his fingers from hers. Stiff and impassive, he stared into the shadows past her shoulder. "He gave me no choice, tried to strangle me. I grabbed a lamp and hit him over the head. End of story."
She reached for his hand. He yanked it away.
"David." She slumped against the sofa, deflated inside and out. "It wasn't your fault. Why would you push me way because of that? I don't get it."
"I was answering your question. But that's not the reason I… " He rubbed his hands on his pants, as if struggling to cleanse them. "Listen to me. Amador was right. There is something I've done, something unforgivable."
"You don't know what I can forgive."
His eyes had gone glassy, his demeanor so remote she wondered if he'd dispatched his mind to another world. A psychic knew how to literally let his mind wander. She lifted a hand to touch him, but drew it back. Foreboding weighed down on her, so heavy it immobilized her.
Then he turned his gaze on her. Those distant eyes, their color somehow faded, drilled into her. He spoke with a detachment that chilled her. "You've wanted to know how JT found you. Who told him your real name. Who's responsible for the torment he inflicted on you, and that Tesler wants to continue inflicting on you. You need to know who to blame, right?"
She hesitated, then said, "Yes."
But she wasn't sure at all she wanted to know. Her skin crawled. Her throat went dry. She could not tear her gaze from his, though, or stop herself from hearing what he told her next.
"It was me. I told Tesler who you were and exactly where to find you." He shut his eyes for a second, then opened them again. "I betrayed you, Grace. I am responsible for the hell your life has become. All the people who died because they got in the way of JT capturing you, I'm the one who set him loose on them."
She shook her head, unable to comprehend.
His mouth twisted into a sad, sardonic smile. "Can you forgive me now?"