“Helped me confront what I’d buried?” She’d had plenty of time to work out what had actually happened that day. She’d been too unwilling to confront that deeply submersed truth—killing was wrong. Her father believed wholly in justice, in the law of the land, and the law said killing was wrong. She could justify it as self-defense, she could make any number of arguments, but at the heart of the matter was she’d had a weapon and she’d used it.
“Yes.” His gaze roved over hers, searching. “I should have told you what I was going to do.”
“No,” she disagreed. Chewing her lower lip, she tried to organize her wild stampede of thoughts into some semblance of logic. “I didn’t want to know that about myself. I think we all have an image of who we are, who think we’re supposed to be, and I’ve never thought of myself as a killer.”
“I still don’t.” His reply surprised her and she tilted her head, trying to understand him. His gaze remained intent on her. “You’re not a killer. We all have the capacity to kill, but killers act without remorse, without second-guessing themselves. They kill because it’s their nature. You reacted to something brutal and painful and terrifying.”
“You’re arguing circumstances as justification.” She hadn’t been under a direct threat.
“Yes, I am. In some circumstances—killing to defend yourself or killing to defend another does justify the act. It does not make you a killer. It makes you someone who has killed.”
“That’s semantics.” She couldn’t excuse her choice. “Even Quanto argues our gifts should be subject to the same laws of the land that we use to govern weapons. By that logic, I killed an unarmed man.” The image replayed through her mind, tension tightening her loose muscles. She could see all five men and the man who fell to the creature she’d created had no gun in his hand. He hadn’t even been the shooter.
“If you’d had a gun in your hand, would you have shot at the men who shot your father?” William cupped her cheek and dragged her attention back to him.
“I don’t know. Perhaps. But my father never allowed me to use a gun, so I don’t even know if I could have hit them.” It made no difference. She hadn’t possessed a gun and only had her gift. Perhaps if she’d had the training then… Shaking her head, she rose He’d apparently spread his bedroll out on the ground next to hers. “I should wash up so we can dress and ride.”
“Evelyn…”
She turned away from the forgiveness in his beloved eyes. He didn’t understand. His gift didn’t kill. She had no intention of allowing him to shoulder her burden. She’d done it once, she could do it again and then…
Then she’d deal with the rest of this.
Kid, The Desert
“What does it matter?” Apparently his line of questioning got to her because for the first time since he’d found her by the stream, her annoyance stretched her patience thin.
Two days of riding brought them to one of the uglier parts of the journey, but Evelyn didn’t complain—except when he made camp in shadowed spots during the day and insisted they ride at night. The waxing moon grew fatter overhead and provided plenty of light. Despite coming apart in his arms every time he touched her, she kept a piece of herself remote. Understanding why she did it and accepting the rejection were two different matters.
Resisting the urge to offer a direct answer to her inquiry, he stuck to the plan he’d decided on in the two days after she’d hidden away to grieve. “Why do you think it matters?”
Evelyn tipped her head back and closed her eyes, the muscles in her neck stretching taut as she let out a low mutter of frustration. “You are not answering questions with questions.”
“I’m not?” He let his amusement drizzle the words. “Why do you say that?”
The look she raked over him could have scorched the earth. “William, I don’t specifically understand the mechanics of my ability. I don’t know why what I give life to suddenly appears or why it has the ability to physically interact. It simply does.”
“Do you believe that because your father taught it to you?” Because Evelyn possessed the most formidable of minds, he couldn’t imagine that she hadn’t thought this out.
“You know my father didn’t want me to use our ability. He taught me from a very young age to suppress it, to close the door in my mind that allowed it to escape.” Each time the subject of Edward Lang re-entered their conversation, the razor blade of her sadness sliced a little less. She would always miss him, but the bone-crushing grief—it had finally begun to lighten.
“How did he teach that?” It was an issue that Quanto and Wyatt had both mentioned to him. In order for Edward to teach her to not use something presupposed she not only possessed the ability but also had used it. Kid couldn’t fault their logic, he’d been under pressure from his gift for most of his life, active torture at times, and he’d still struggled to bring it under control.
Irritation scrunching her nose, Evelyn opened her mouth to respond and snapped it shut again. The flames of exasperation writhing around her dimmed and she frowned. “I have no idea.” The fact clearly startled her.
Shifting in his saddle, he nudged his horse a little closer to hers and tangled his fingers with Evelyn’s. The gelding had no problem adjusting his pace until the horses’ hooves struck in perfect accord. Contact gave him a better gauge of her state and he peeled back a layer of his shields—he wanted to read only. It took some practice to split his attention and he could feel a headache nudging, but he only wanted to help, not influence.
Outwardly, he adjusted his manner from demand to coax and he stroked his thumb across her palm. “So, what do you do? How do you leash it? I can’t imagine a mind as talented as yours lacks whimsical thoughts all the time.”
And what was imagination and illusion but products of whimsy—or deep desire?
“Oh, I feel like I’m trapped on the mountain.” Her complaint carried the nuance of humor. “I’m not sure I can explain it.”
“Try.” He encouraged her with a squeeze of her hand and while she nibbled her lip, her expression thoughtful, took the time to scan the area around them. The area was not heavily traveled. He’d checked their trails ahead and behind each day under sunlight to make sure of it. The landscape was not marked by the passage of man or beast, and at their current angle they’d break out of the desert sooner and into the rockier hill country with its promise of streams and green grass. He’d been making the water he loaded onto both horses last, but they’d do better with a more natural source.
Fortunately, finding shade to sleep under during the day hadn’t been difficult—yet.
“When I work an illusion, it has to be fueled from inside.” She released his hand to tap her chest. “Usually something I feel strongly about, so it has an emotional component.”
That much she’d long-since established, but he let her explain it.
“It also has to be something I can picture in my mind absolutely.”
“So to create the dog that first day? You had to know what a dog looked like?” The steady clip-clop of the horses’ hooves added a soothing cadence to the evening. Though nighttime in the desert was considerably cooler, it was hardly cold.
“Yes.”
“What if you thought dogs looked like cats?”
“That’s ridiculous.” She laughed. “Dogs don’t look like cats.”
“No, they don’t, but what if you thought they did? What if you believed a dog looked like a cat?” How many parameters did her mind have to meet to create the illustration?
“I suppose if I truly believed that dogs and cats looked identical, then when I imagined a dog, you would see a cat, but that has its own problems, because for the illusion to truly come to life, both sender and receiver have to believe in it.” Something about her own statement puzzled her and confusion hummed in the air. “Unless the sender and receiver are the same.”
“You lost me.” He gave the area another sweep and glanced over at her, but she’d retreated, her gaze turned elsewhere. Letting her mull,
he stretched his neck and rolled his head from side to side. They’d been riding for hours and made good distance, but dawn wasn’t that far off and they’d need shelter.
CAN YOU HEAR ME? The boom of Jason’s voice reverberated through Kid’s mind. Shields shuttering, it took everything he had not to clutch at his head and thrust his pain back in the direction of the thunderous echo.
Eyes watering from the effort, he locked his heels down in the stirrups and wrapped a hand around the pommel in an effort to stay upright. Yes. He sent the mental hiss back. Loud.
Five heartbeats elapsed before the response came. Sorry, better? If a mental voice could sound chagrinned, Jason’s actually managed it.
Much. He layered some gratitude into the word. The contact created an odd buzzing, like too many flies hovering right at his ears. Maintaining it took some effort on his part and his shields flexed. Thank you.
Difficult…adjust…distance…my fi…time. Att….ting to compen—The hiccups and hesitations in the words gave Kid the impression of losing some of the content. Flicking a look at Evelyn whose own head was angled down, her expression pensive, he concentrated on peeling back another layer of shields.
…back from San Antonio…
Say again? Kid attempted. Hard to hear all of that. He paced out his own response, giving each word a moment before the next.
Cody and Micah went to San Antonio regarding the matter of Evelyn Lang. A pause, like a mental telegram being marked with a stop.
Go on. Kid encouraged him. It took him time to rework his shields. He had to take down the outer layers and leave himself partially exposed, but only Evelyn was close enough to impact him and she’d turned most of her attention inward.
Three men had been asking questions about her.
Spine stiffening to rigid, Kid fisted the reins. Are they still there?
A long silence stretched out and he had to wonder if his brother heard him. Finally, Jason responded. Not at the moment. Micah said they arrived nearly three weeks after Miss Lang. They stayed about a month, but no one was willing to betray the Kane name.
Or their fortune, but Kid left that alone. His father’s wealth was not something he spent that much thought on. Jed Kane had negotiated relationships throughout the state and his name carried a lot of influence. So it’s a dead end?
He wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or frustrated. It would have been too easy to have the men close enough to take care of, but Jason had said three and there had been four left over. So where was the fourth?
“William?” Evelyn touched his hand and the world wavered. Between one blink and the next, Kid pulled up on the reins because Jason stood right in front of their trail. Evelyn let out a soft cry and both horses tossed their heads, snorting. Dressed in a familiar white shirt, long black britches and work boots that seemed out of place with his more Eastern dress, Jason’s expression turned startled.
“Kid?” His cool eyes turned almost incandescent with an unearthly glow and they swiveled between him and Evelyn.
Evelyn jerked her hand away and Jason vanished. Heart slamming against his ribs, Kid blew out a breath. Did you just see me? The question was a gamble, because if his brother hadn’t, he’d sound insane.
Yes. One word, hard edged like the flat of a blade, slapped his mind. What was that?
Hold on. Testing his theory, he reached over and took Evelyn’s hand, threading their fingers, and Jason reappeared in front of them. His guarded expression held a wealth of wariness. Kid saw that he hadn’t been mistaken. Jason’s eyes glowed in the dark. That was definitely a question to ask when he returned home.
“Can you see us now?” He held fast to Evelyn’s hand when her fingers spasmed against his.
“Yes. Explain please.” Frosty and uptight. Jason hadn’t changed much, but Kid grinned anyway.
“One moment. Evelyn, are you okay?” He turned his attention to the rigid woman next to him. She stared at Jason, a dumbfounded look on her face.
“He’s not real. I’m—I can feel my gift working…”
“He is real. Jason was reaching out to me mentally and I had to lower my shields. Then you touched me.” It made complete sense to Kid, but Evelyn swung a look at him that mirrored Jason’s so closely, he burst out laughing.
“That’s impossible. I don’t create real people. Well, not real real. I can’t have brought him here.”
“Improbable, but with a magnification effect of his emotional gift and my telepathic reach, not impossible.” Jason leaned forward and his whole body seemed to stretch for an instant and then returned to where it had been. “I cannot interact with your environment. I see you both on horseback, standing in the middle of the sitting room.”
“Ma’s sitting room?” Kid winced. His father would kill him if they marked up the floor.
“Yes.” Jason chuckled. “Pa is in bed. I wanted to do this when there were few distractions because I wasn’t sure of my actual reach. I don’t think either of you can interact with my environment either. Try moving.”
Evelyn made a squeaking noise, but Kid jutted his chin forward. “Nudge Samson a couple of steps, darling.” The horses paced forward and stopped, Kid and Evelyn still holding hands. Jason’s image retreated from them, staying exactly four feet ahead.
“Fascinating.” Evelyn and Jason spoke over each other. The odd thing about it is Kid could feel the hum in his mind when either one spoke, as though he were in the middle of the conversation and apart from it at the same time.
“Well, that’s different,” Kid agreed.
“With the uncertainty of what this is doing to either of you, let’s be brief.” Jason sobered swiftly. “The three men remained in San Antonio for a month, but their hunt continued to be unsuccessful. To the best of our recollection, no one from the ranch visited the town during that period, however some of our workers building Dorado did.”
Ice slithered up Kid’s spine. “And?” Evelyn squeezed his hand and he returned the affection.
“It is possible that they did give those men information about the ranch and the family. Three men fitting their description were seen at the fort as recently as a couple of weeks ago. Jimmy and Shane will confirm later today.”
“That’s three, where’s the fourth?” Kid asked the question bothering him.
“I have no information about the fourth and no actual visual to work from. The dreaming Quanto shared with all of us didn’t have enough accurate details.” To his credit, those glowing eyes never went to Evelyn, but Kid could hear the quieter request in the back of his mind. His brother asked him first. Do you think she would show me?
Not liking the idea, but agreeing it might be worth exploring, he spared at a look at Evelyn. Lines of strain showed around her eyes. “Hey, is this hurting you?”
“Very fatigued.” She whispered and Kid released her hand immediately. Jason’s image vanished and she reached out to reclaim his hand, but Kid had already backed his mare up. “You didn’t get everything.”
“I can get it up here,” he tapped his head. “After we make camp.” He repeated the same message to Jason and felt, more than heard, his agreement. His brother began to withdraw then paused. Kid?
Yes?
Thank you for trusting me. Those words carried a wagonload of meaning.
His brother had reached out again and Kid didn’t have a problem going halfway this time. Thanks for not giving up on me.
Surprise and then…Talk when you’re home?
Yes.
The contact faded and Kid went to work shoring up his shields, erecting the barriers to protect all three of them from whatever the hell had just sizzled to life with their combination of abilities. Evelyn swayed in the saddle and Kid rode right up to her and plucked her off her horse, sliding back in his own saddle so she could rest in front of him, curved against his chest.
“I don’t understand how we did that…” Tiredness thickened her voice and he nuzzled her head.
“Don’t worry about it right now, sle
ep. I’ll get us some where safe.” It took a little juggling, but he had her gelding’s reins in one hand and Evelyn balanced against him when he nudged his horse back into motion. The sun would be up within the hour and he wanted a safe spot for her. Cheek pressed to his shoulder, and one hand feathered over his heart, Evelyn was already fast asleep.
Yes, life with her would never be easy. He grinned. It sure as hell wouldn’t be boring, but one piece of Jason’s news buoyed Kid beyond measurable reason. If those hunting her were near the ranch, he was going home.
Evelyn, The Desert
Awareness surfaced with a vengeance and her head hurt. Opening her eyes, she grimaced at the too bright light cutting across her pupils and rolled to hide her face. She came up against a hard chest and the welcome scent of Kid. The stroke of his hand against her hair offered soothing and she soaked it up. Bit by bit, the pain lancing through her mind eased and she fisted her fingers against his shirt.
“No more.” It was a plea. The only way her pain receded that quickly would be for him to have taken it.
“I don’t want you to hurt.” He rubbed the back of her neck. “Let me, please?”
“How much does it hurt you?” Her ragged thoughts stitched together slowly, held by the most gossamer of threads.
“Not anywhere near as much as it’s hurting you.” The combination of firm tone and thoughtful caress earned her capitulation.
Lifting her head, she squinted out from lowered lashes. Even that little bit of movement sent the pain deeper into her brain and her stomach roiled. “A little more.”
The dazzle of his smile took her breath away and he adjusted his hold on her, one hand cupping her cheek and the pain withdrew so sharply, she gasped. Lines of tension deepened around his eyes, and his pupils expanded, the black nearly drowning out the blue.
“William,” she whispered, her worry increasing.
“It’s all right.” Despite the reassurance, her pain continued to mute, growing quieter with each passing moment.
“I said a little more,” she muttered and lunged forward, pressing her mouth to his. Sweeping her tongue against his lower lip, she felt the raw brunt of his surprise and then delight as he opened to her kiss. When she finally pulled back, they were both breathing hard. “A little more, William…not all of it.” Her headache was gone as if it never existed, but she saw a reflection of her pain in the sharp planes of his face.
Raising Kane Page 33
