Hunting the Shadows (14 page)

“I thought that I was broken, that I couldn’t…that…” she stuttered, “I mean, I…well…”

He smiled at the flush of her cheeks as she struggled to find the words. “Trust me, you’re not broken. Far from it.”

“Make me feel more. Please? I want to know what it’s like.”

He wanted her. All he had to do was push her onto her back and strip her naked. Because it was way too easy to imagine, because he wanted it too much, he set her aside.

“What are you doing?”

He reached for her hand, pressing his lips to her wrist and then her palm. “We’re not doing this.” He shook his head and tried not to see the hurt in her eyes, but he had to get the words out before he gave in to his urges. “We can’t. It breaks scientist/patient protocol.”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He ran a thumb over her wrist, linking his fingers with hers. “If we were to do anything, it’d be wrong. You don’t know what you’re feeling. This is all new to you.”

Broderick would take her away. He’d lose her and his chance to catch the killer.

“You make me feel, yes,” she said slowly, “but it’s different.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You touch me and it’s like I’m on fire. In the good way. You touch me and my skin absorbs the feel of you and it’s like I’ve been starved of sensation forever. I want more.”

And he thought he was going to be able to resist her? The woman was undoing him, a seduction without her knowing. She was a menace with those blue eyes and kissable lips. “Darling, it’s called desire.”

She smirked in a way that made him so damn hard. “No, I know what desire is. This is something different. When Rick—or anyone—touches me it’s like someone is stabbing needles through my skin. Sometimes, the pain is so bad I think that I’ll pass out and yet I don’t.”

“And me?”

“Nothing. No pain.”

He settled himself on the bench as she rose. “Amy, have you ever told anyone? That’s not normal. It’s probably a side effect of all the medications.”

“And how do you explain why I don’t feel it when you touch me?”

He frowned. “I don’t have an explanation but the point is that this isn’t normal.”

“Why is it so easy for me to get inside your head?” she questioned, going toe to toe with him. “I did something, I think. When I went inside your head and copied your memories. I think it changed something about us. Linked us. I think that’s why there’s no pain, because a part of you stuck.”

Was that possible? The scientist in him was intrigued. The man, unsure what to believe. What experiments could he run to test her theory? There weren’t any that would explain this.

How was a person to feel when he’s told that he’s the only one who invokes such a reaction in a beautiful woman? As possessive as it made him feel, they weren’t going to act on anything.

Amy was already a target. He wouldn’t risk her safety for a night of passion, because that’s all it could ever be.

No matter how much he wanted her, she could never be his.

Chapter Thirteen

It was quiet. Almost too quiet. She wasn’t sure what to do with all this…silence. She’d never had to deal with being alone in her mind, with not having someone else there in one form or another.

Glancing down at the band, Amy fingered the leather. She could slip into J.C.’s mind if she needed some form of mental interaction, but for the moment she let herself adjust to the silence, for once in her life.

“If you’re afraid, I can sit with you for a bit.”

She jumped, nearly coming off the chair. Stiffening, she glanced at the small dark haired boy. Wary eyes met hers. His muddied pants were torn at the knee, dried blood scabbed along his forehead.

“I’m sorry?”

“I can sit with you if you don’t want to be here alone.” His voice shook but he nodded toward the open lab door where J.C. was working—had been for the last three hours as he leaned over a microscope, going through slides of evidence from Teresa and Leila’s deaths. “I have to go in there but I’d rather sit out here for a bit. My name’s Drake.” A small hand extended toward hers.

She stared down at the short fingers and the dirtied palm. “Amy.”

His childish laugh made her feel foolish—she’d expected danger in the form of this young boy. Shooting him a shaky smile, she took back her hand and rubbed her palm along her thigh at the greasy feel of energy residue.

The boy was branded. All psychics had an energy fingerprint, each unique. For the most part, it was static. The boy’s was different. It fluctuated, changing as her mind tried to process it.

At her frown, Drake shifted his gaze to the floor. “What?”

She shook her head and got to her feet, putting distance between them. “Nothing.” Dizziness stole her breath. Lifting her hand, she pressed it against her forehead. Chills climbed up her spine, settling at the base of her neck. “Sorry, it’s nothing.”

It wasn’t nothing, but she had no idea how to put it into words.

“Are you ok?”

“I need…” Hell, she didn’t know. A feeling of foreboding tightened under her skin, making her antsy with the knowledge that she was missing something big. She stared at Drake and the more she watched him, the more the cold settled into her bones.

“What’s wrong?”

She swiveled around to the open doorway where J.C. stood, a scream locked in her throat. “Damn you.” She pressed her palm to her chest where her heart raced. “Don’t sneak up on me when I—”

Her words were muffled against his chest as he pulled her into his arms. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her muscles to relax. He was so warm and she was freezing. Her fingers curled into the material of his shirt. It was as though she was drowning and couldn’t get enough air. She tried to pull free from the feeling, but the memory skipped along the edges of her mind.

Her jaw hurt from grinding her teeth. She felt something on her face and forcing one hand to open, lifted it to swipe at the blood under her nose. “I—” When her legs gave out, J.C. kept his arms around her, lowering her to the ground. “J.C., the boy…”

J.C.’s fingers clasped at her wrist. She watched his mouth move but heard nothing over the loud buzzing in her ears.

Her gaze fell on Drake and stayed there.

She caught the boy’s hands, pulling him down in front of her, his small face white with terror.

Images flashed through her mind. Blood. Death.

“He’s marked,” Amy whispered. When she let go, he stumbled back, his eyes wide.

It was thick around her, the energy signature calling to her memories like a Pied Piper. She remembered the shadowed figure. Even when she was a child he visited her in the middle of the night. She’d always thought…had always figured it’d been a figment of her imagination since she could never see clearly. But it hadn’t been.

“Amy, you need to snap out of it. Now,” J.C. ordered, his voice breaking through her thoughts.

Her body jerked. “The killer touched him.” Her voice shook, scraped raw with emotion. “And me…he’s been feeding on us.”

She pulled away from his touch. When J.C. disappeared into his lab and came back out with a needle, she shook her head. “I’m not crazy.”

Whenever things had gotten out of hand, they’d drugged her because it was easier, because they didn’t know how to deal with a telepath who kept phasing in and out of their minds.

It was easier to shut her up. No one wanted their secrets laid out in the open.

Balling her fist against her forehead, she shook her head, pushing her fingers into her mussed hair. “Give me a bit of time. I’ll deal with this. Don’t sedate me.”

He studied her and pushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“It’s a booster. I’m not sedating you. Your abilities are scattered. This will strengthen the pathways and give you some relief.”

The sting was minimal. His hands were gentle, his touch warm. She let out a breath.

“Tell me what’s going on.” Discarding the needle, he let her get to her feet and followed her into the lab as she moved toward the sink to splash water onto her face.

She glanced at the mirror, looking for the proof. At her hairline, Amy stared at the marks, the fingerprint-like scars that were hidden by her hair. “All these years… I thought I was imagining him. He came around when I was overloading, when I was barely conscious so I thought he wasn’t real.” She shook her head in confusion and dried her hands, turning around to face J.C. To face Drake. “I felt something on him. I didn’t know what it was at first. It’s the killer’s mark. His signature is all over Drake’s aura and mine as well. He’s been tapping Drake between kills. The only problem is that by tapping the children—even multiple sources—it’s not enough. He needs too much to feel alive and can only achieve that if he drains them dry.”

“That explains the disappearing abilities. Damn it.”

“Their abilities will regenerate over time as the shock to their system wears off.”

“Son of a bitch.” J.C. whirled around. “Why didn’t you tell me, Drake?”

J.C. didn’t understand what it felt like to be imprinted by another, to have another feed off their life energy. The boy would have been too confused to know that he needed help. And it wouldn’t have registered on any assessment test.

Looking close to tears, Drake stuttered incomprehensibly.

Amy felt for the boy. He had to be scared shitless. “He didn’t know what was going on. None of the children would have memory of it. For the most part, the killer simply had to be in the same room as them to siphon it. He doesn’t need to touch them.”

J.C. sighed as he rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I’ll set up more security around the children’s wing and the classrooms. If the killer just has to be in the same room, that may be a bit difficult to control, but I hope having guards around them will deter him.” Leaning down, he went to the boy’s level. “We’ll figure this out, okay? I’m going to get those marks on your record expunged, but first, I need to see to your safety.”

Drake said nothing, just nodded. The first tears began to spill, his bottom lip trembling.

“Hey.” J.C.’s voice dropped, softening the harsh tone he’d taken earlier. Amy watched, her heart melting as he hugged the boy, whispering something she couldn’t hear. When Drake looked up again, he smiled and ran out of the room.

“He’s going to stay with Darilynn tonight. I’ll make the arrangements with her later. He has a bit of a crush on her.” Although the corners of his lips lifted, his expression remained a blank mask. Unless she went into his head, she didn’t know what he was thinking. “I didn’t want Drake to hear any more of this conversation. He doesn’t need to be terrified that a monster is going to drain his life away. Now, tell me what else I need to know.”

“The killer fed off me. When psychics overload, their energy goes crazy. It would have been easy for him to tap that and restore equilibrium. It takes a lot to drain a life, so Drake shouldn’t be affected too much.” As long as the killer was caught. Easing her hair back, she showed him the marks at the edge of her scalp, a scar-like brand that was barely visible if you weren’t looking for it. “Evidence.”

His gaze met hers, the amber of his irises darkening as he reached up to rub his fingers over those marks. He lowered his hand, curling it into a tight fist.

“All those children the Council black marked…nothing was wrong with them. Nothing, but the fact that a psycho was using them as a feeding source. I didn’t see it.” The mask gave way, the raw emotion on his face saying more than his words ever could as he punched the cabinet, wood splintering against the force of his anger. “Goddamn it, they were children!”

There was more. She could see it in the taut lines of his body as he held himself rigid.

“J.C.—” She drew his face toward hers, looked into his eyes and knew his reaction went beyond the deaths, “—what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“I failed them.” He pulled away to pace around the room. “I was the leader. They depended on
me
.”

“You blew up the lab to protect everyone.”

“I took a stand everyone else refused to take,” he bit out. The intensity in his eyes made her take a step back.

But there was more to him blowing up his lab. She saw it in his eyes. “What happened? Why did you do it instead of waiting?” she asked softly.

He made a low, strangled sound in his throat that might have been a sarcastic laugh. “Because I had just watched a little girl die. She was barely old enough to know what was going on. How many need to die before the Council realizes what they’re doing?”

His furious gaze locked on hers. Drawn forward, Amy was pulled into his head. He was so volatile that she couldn’t stop it. He was thinking about the girl—a small little thing with eyes that looked right through him. Sara. She’d been a clairvoyant and had gone to J.C. after she’d collapsed in class. He’d managed to stabilize her but after that first incident, she continued to gradually get worse.

He spent the last hours of her life with her, offering as much comfort as he could. It didn’t matter, though. After watching her deteriorate and not being able to stop it, she died in his arms. Her death hadn’t been easy or fast. He’d been helpless to do anything to help her, her cries tearing him apart.

“I did what I had to,” he yelled. “And for what? Not a damn thing has changed. I failed. I didn’t protect the children.”

“You still did
something
.”

“Don’t make light of my failure.” He moved forward, eyes glittering with something she couldn’t read. His hands curled around her shoulders, his thighs pinning hers against the cool stainless steel table. “I got caught. My bomb didn’t work.”

She nearly swallowed her tongue at the contact of his body pressed up against hers. “Because someone tampered with it. That wasn’t your fault.”

“Amy, think about it. The scientists were already dead before I went to my lab. Someone knew what we were planning and killed the scientists. Because I was arrogant enough to think I could take down the Centre. I walked right into my lab and didn’t even know they were dead in the adjoining storage room.”

“What could you have done had you known?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “At that point, my main focus was destroying everything so that we could get everyone to safety. I thought they were with the children as planned. I didn’t even realize the bomb had been messed with, not until I activated it and found it counting down from five minutes. I couldn’t stop it. I tried, but it wouldn’t accept my password.”

“You barely got out alive.”

His hands slid down her bare arms, one inch at time, fingers tightening around her wrist. When he slipped his thumb beneath the leather band, the shock of his warm skin against hers made her jump. “I get people killed.”

His words shook her, the angry grief underlying them evident. “J.C., you’re not responsible for Leila’s death. You didn’t kill her.”

“If I hadn’t started all of this, she would be safe.” His lips curled in a snarl. “I knew there was a traitor among us, a spy working with the Council. I was stupid to think that my plans would be safe. Instead, she died. You shouldn’t trust me. I’ll only get you killed.”

“No, I’d be dead if you hadn’t helped me.” Easing her one hand free of his grasp, she caught his chin between her fingers, forcing his gaze to hers. “No one would have listened to me. They would have locked me back up and if the killer didn’t come back for me, then I’d probably go crazy.”

“You can’t be that trusting. I’m dangerous. You should stay away,” he muttered. “I need to get one of the others to watch you. I’ll help train your abilities but that has to be all this can ever be.”

Her heart skittered within her chest. Her breath caught in her throat as his mouth hovered inches from hers, electrifying all of her senses. ”I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t want to be responsible for you.” The walls he put up slammed in place between them.

“No one asked you to be.”

Twining her fingers into his hair, she lifted herself and dragged his mouth to hers. There was no way she’d let him put distance between them. Especially not after what he’d shared with her. Wanting to comfort him as he had her so many times before, she kissed him softly.

Darkness.

The press of his mouth to hers was almost too much. Almost. She cried out against the strength of him. Energy arched across her mind, the white flash of heat burning, leaving her shaking.

She had to grip his shoulders tightly for support. To hold onto him. She tried to catch her breath but he’d claimed her mouth, sweeping her mind away and deeper into his. His kiss was like a drug, hooking her instantly and making her an addict.

Her lashes lifted. Gold eyes watched—hot and brutal—demanding and, at the same time, safe. Before she could do more than pull in a breath, his mouth was back on hers, his hand easing her closer.

Her mind spun too fast with sensation—the heavy heat of his hand, the roughness of his jaw, even the press of his jean clad leg against hers. She shifted in response, angling her body into his.

Her lips burned and opening them, she felt his tongue slide against hers. The scent of him rushed into her, a combination that was spicy and wild. His palm slid down her spine and around to her stomach. His fingers eased up her shirt, touching her, skin to skin