David bounded to catch Grace before she hit the ground. His heart jackhammered against his ribs, and the torrent of blood thundering behind his eardrums muffled all other sounds. He lugged her behind the big pine tree, cradling her limp body, with her feet dangling a few inches above the ground. Her head drooped onto his chest and the silky strands of her hair feathered across his chin.
Amador and Sean circled around the two of them, eyes on the woods, postures tense. Two of Nkosi's human puppets lay dead at the edge of the woods, both shot by Amador. David couldn't believe the man had swooped in to fend off their attackers. He did not want to feel obliged to like the lying son of a bitch.
Amador's gaze flicked to David. "How is she?"
Ah yes, of course. That explained why he'd stepped in — for Grace. For the moment, David had given up worrying about the man's intentions. "I don't know, she's out cold."
"Care for her. We will guard you."
"Thanks," David said, uttering the word slowly, unable to grasp that he not only thanked this man, but he meant it.
Amador nodded, his attention returning to the woods. Despite the bright sun overhead, a screen of trees cloaked them in false twilight. The gloom hid their attackers, but with any luck, it masked their exact whereabouts too.
David reclined Grace's head to expose her face to him. He settled a hand on her shoulder and jostled her carefully. "Grace?"
She didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't stir at all.
His chest constricted. He ran a hand over her forehead, the pale skin cold against his. When he dipped a finger to the pulse point on her neck, the beating of her heart pulsed in a slow-but-steady rhythm. Relief weakened his knees, but he sucked in a breath and clutched her tighter.
She was alive. For now, that was all he needed to know.
Behind him, inside the small clearing, Nkosi lay crumpled on the ground. His body depressed the thick moss. His eyes gaped wide and empty.
Dead. A chill shimmered in David. Grace had killed Nkosi, without intending to and she would have no reason for guilt. Nkosi attempted to kill all of them. He imprisoned innocent people and hollowed out their minds to reshape them to his will. How many lives had he taken? One was too many. Grace acted in defense of herself and countless others. When she woke, he'd convince her she did the right thing.
What if she doesn't wake up?
The thought shred through him like an electrical shock. She would wake up, she had to. Her heart still beat and her psychic energy still crackled through him. She would come back to him. She must.
But he understood what she'd done and the cost it might exact. The look on her face right before she enacted her plan — a mixture of determination and intense regret — conveyed her intentions to him. Their bond compelled him to experience a fraction of what she unleashed on Nkosi, of what she endured to accomplish the feat, and he knew. She exploited the one ability he'd made her swear never ever to attempt.
She read Nkosi's mind.
Worse, she tore it apart and rummaged through the fragments to unearth what she sought. David realized what she'd been searching for too — the key to bringing down the entire network of psychic research facilities. The vital piece of information that would serve as the nail she might drive into the coffin of Digital Prognostics, Tesler, and everything both had represented.
David touched her cheek, hunting for some sign of awareness on her face, but detected none. His heart ached with a desperation that burned him from the inside out. He could not lose her, would not stand for it. She owned his heart, his soul, every part of him that was worth anything. Before her, he'd been a zombie, not unlike Nkosi's puppets, devoid of passion or purpose. Grace brought him to life. He owed her more than he could ever repay.
Crunch.
David froze at the sound. It had come from the woods behind him. He bent sideways to peek around the massive tree, careful to keep Grace secure in his arms. Amador and Sean both trained their weapons on the area where the noise had originated. Even the birds no longer chirped, and the breeze had ceased its rustling.
The sharp crack of a twig breaking lanced the silence.
Among the trees, a shadow shifted.
"Who goes there?" Amador shouted.
"Give up," a strained voice replied. "Or die."
Sean sidled toward David, his back to the tree. He said under his breath, "Shouldn't we run or something?"
David shut his eyes and made a quick sweep of the vicinity with his RV senses. "We can't run. They've got us surrounded. At least a dozen people."
"Their master dude's dead. Why are they still doing what he told them?"
"I don't know."
Why? The question plagued David as he surveyed the forest for human-shaped silhouettes. Why hadn't the enslaved psychics abandoned their mission? With Nkosi dead, logic suggested they should stop. Instead, they pushed forward with an unstoppable resolve.
And the puppets had guns. Ammo. Knives. He, Sean, and Amador barely escaped when two of the zombie psychics assaulted them. With a dozen closing in around them…
Grace roused with faint grumble.
He stared at her closed eyes, afraid to move, to bump her too much and push her back into unconsciousness. She shifted against him, her eyes darting behind the lids. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her mouth, and at the feel of her warm, alive skin, his gaze flew heavenward. Thank you. Her eyes, though bleary, gazed up at him with trust and love. The sun illuminated the green flecks in her irises.
Her lips wriggled under his thumb, then stretched into a smile. He lowered her onto her feet, but kept his arms around her until she stopped swaying.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Mm-hm." Her gaze rolled toward Nkosi. Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. She whipped her head toward David. "Is he… "
"Dead. Yes." David clasped her hands. "You did what you had to do."
"I know." She inhaled, straightened, and gave a sharp nod. "And I found what we need."
"What do you mean?"
"The computers at all the facilities around the world are linked through a secure network. If we destroy the mainframe, everything's wiped out."
Oh hell. Just when he'd given up global quests for justice. "Let's talk about that later. We need to figure out why Nkosi's puppets are still carrying out his orders."
Her fingers lighted on her neck, her eyes distant. After a few seconds, she glanced around as if hunting for something. "Do the puppets have guns?"
"Yes. And clearly plenty of ammo, plus knives."
She fingered the bark on the tree trunk. Her lips compressed, the corners pulled tight. Although she studied the tree, he had the distinct impression she was concentrating on a sight beyond the reach of normal vision. Her psychic senses expanded through him, around him, encompassing them both and fanning out.
Her eyes turned steely. Her nails scratched the bark. "Tesler."
David moved to enfold her in his arms, but she batted them away. His hands were poised near her arms, because he didn't quite know what to do with them. "What about Tesler?"
Her hazel eyes glowed a soft, gorgeous green, lit by the otherworldly energy enlivening her mind. "He slipped away from us. He's hiding nearby, though. And he is the reason the puppets are still enslaved. They switched allegiances, and answer to him."
"How? Tesler has no powers."
She shook her head. "Somehow the Golden Power latched onto him too. I didn't notice it before because the energy is subtle and I was focused on Nkosi. Now… " Her expression slackened, as her mind receded from the physical world. Seconds elapsed, each tick of the clock an anvil pounding on his chest. At last, her eyes swam back into focus. "What's left of the Golden Power took refuge in Tesler. I don't understand how, and it doesn't really matter at the moment. To stop the assault, we have to stop Tesler."
Sean and Amador stared at Grace, their faces blank. Thanks to the power boost he got from merging with Grace, David felt the other men's wariness. About Grace? Or about the Golden Power taking over Tesler?
"Okay," he told Grace. "We go after Tesler. Sean and Amador can occupy the zombie army while you and I track down their new master."
Sean raised a hand, like a kid in a classroom asking for his turn to speak. "Uh, how do we find Tesler? I can't see him, even with RV."
"We can."
"Are you serious?"
David nodded.
The boy's brows lifted. "Wow. You guys are kinda awesome since you did whatever it was you did to each other last night."
Grace flashed a suggestive smirk at David, and he smirked right back. With great effort, he resisted the impulse to haul her into his arms for another super-heated kiss.
"Jeez, you guys." A blush fired up in Sean's cheeks, and he averted his eyes. "I didn't mean — I was talking about the thing where you joined powers or whatever."
Growling resonated in the air. Silhouettes bobbed among the trees.
The puppets were getting closer.
David stripped his attention away from Grace, which was damn difficult considering the way she licked her lower lip. "We'd better get moving. Tesler's minions are getting closer."
Sean scratched the back of his neck. "When you say moving, do you mean literally, or psychically?"
"Have you recovered enough to travel the astral way?"
"Yeah. I'm cool."
"Good. You distract the puppets while Grace and I deal with Tesler."
Amador cleared his throat. "Where does this plan leave me? I cannot… travel as you do."
David squinted at the man, measuring Amador up as best he could. Though pale, with dark patches under his eyes, he stood straight and gripped his weapon with determination. David suppressed a sigh. He might've misjudged the creep a little, but under no circumstances would he forgive what Amador had done to Grace or the young girl he kidnapped. Today, though, he needed the bastard's help.
And the task he had in mind was the only thing he'd trust Amador to do.
"I need you to stay here," David said, "with our bodies. Protect Grace at all costs."
She slapped the back of her hand on David's chest. "He means protect all of us."
"No." David stalked up to Amador and glared into the man's bloodshot eyes. "You protect her. Tesler wants Grace's brain, and it's your job to make sure none of his minions get anywhere near her." David leaned closer, until his breaths reflected off Amador's face. "Protect Grace. That's your only job. Get it?"
"I understand."
"If you abandon her — "
"You will hunt me down, even after death, et cetera. I've listened to this speech before." Chin elevated, Amador gave him a self-satisfied smile. "I am the one who has never left her to suffer alone."
David swung his arm back, his hand fisted, ready to wallop Amador. But then he glimpsed Grace out the corner of his eye, and the fury evaporated. He had abandoned her. Over and over. Amador was right.
He dropped his hand. "Just take care of her, all right?"
Amador inclined his head. "You have my word."
Right. As if that meant squat.
But he knew Amador would defend Grace.
With two long strides, David bridged the distance to Grace, towed her into him, and planted a quick, firm kiss on her mouth. "Let's go for a ride."
She looped her arms around his neck. "I'll go anywhere with you."
A weight slammed down on him, forcing out a strangled gasp. His head pounded, and a humming vibrated painfully through his skull. Grace fell into him. The breath exploded out of her. She snared handfuls of his shirt as her eyelids pinched together, almost shut.
Sean doubled over, hands on his head. "Ah! What the hell?"
The pain subsided in seconds, but a pressure compressed his mind in its wake. Not a headache, not anything he could identify. An external pressure. Faint yet powerful.
David rubbed his temple, but held onto Grace with his free arm. "What was that?"
Her head snapped up, her gaze intent on his. "Tesler. He just threw an EM shield up around us. We're not traveling anywhere."
"Shit." An EM field, like the one Tesler employed in the lab. The one that prevented him from contacting Grace. "We're back to the Stone Age then."
With a sly grin, Sean waggled his gun. "Not quite the Stone Age."
He tossed the big semiautomatic to David, and whipped out of his waistband the smaller gun he'd used earlier.
Grace frowned. "Where's my gun?"
Amador reached under the back of his shirt and produced Grace's personal weapon, the .357 Magnum revolver. He lobbed it to her. "I took the liberty of salvaging that from your purse."
"Thanks." She flipped out the cylinder, and even David could see it contained only three rounds. "Please tell me you stole some ammo when you were rampaging through the facility."
"A few extra clips," David said. "That's all the guards had."
"Maybe we can still run," Sean offered.
A twig cracked. Foliage rustled.
Footfalls whomped. Hard. Fast. Homing in.
Before any of them could process it, a dozen mind-controlled men trudged out of the shadows in a circular formation, penning them in.
A second line of jaundiced and haggard men scuffled up behind the first circle. At least a dozen more minions now reinforced the first group.
Grace chewed her lip. "How many bullets have we got?"
David grasped his gun, and the metal dug into his flesh. "Not enough."