Intuition

by Anna Durand

  "No one else knew your real name."

  "Grandpa did."

  "He wouldn't betray you."

  She kissed his neck, her lips a delicate flutter on his skin. "Neither would you. There has to be another explanation. I will not accept that either one of you led JT to me."

  The conviction in her tone buoyed him, a tiny bit, for a heartbeat — maybe two. He yearned to believe it.

  She set her chin on his shoulder. "This is why you wanted the flash drive. To, what, delete the incriminating evidence?"

  "I tried to delete it when I found the video. Didn't work. I'm not as good with computers as you are."

  "Then why did you want the flash drive?"

  "I don't know." His hands moved on their own to cover hers. "All of a sudden, getting the thing away from you seemed vitally important."

  She nestled her face against his neck. "Guilt makes you irrational. But you have nothing to feel guilty about. Understand?"

  "The video — "

  "Is crap." She entwined her fingers with his. "I know you. No matter what Tesler did, you wouldn't tell him squat. You'd die first."

  He'd always assumed he would. The evidence suggested otherwise.

  "Even if you did this," she said, her breaths hot on his skin, "I would understand. Tesler tortured you. Drugged you. I won't let you push me away because — "

  "Stop." He wrestled out of her embrace and avoided her tender gaze. "Don't do it. Don't forgive me."

  "Or what? You'll dump me again?" She made a soft sound, almost a laugh. "You tried that already. I'm not so easy to get rid of."

  "I know." He should've walked out the door, but his feet seemed nailed to the floor. "You can't trust me anymore."

  "Of course I can." She took hold of his shirt and shook him. "Get this through your thick skull, David. I trust you. Whatever you think you've done, it changes nothing. I will never give up on us."

  He stared at her, blank in mind and spirit, desperate to believe but unable to accept it.

  "Never." She shook him harder. "Not even when we're dead."

  "Don't talk about dying. If anything happened to you… "

  She slipped her arms around his neck, hands linked at his nape. Her delicate fingers traced little circles on his scalp and ruffled his hair. His muscles relaxed, even as her slender body pressed into him. She splayed her fingers through his hair, and with delicate pressure, urged him to slant his head toward hers. He obeyed, a slave to her tenderness.

  Her hazel eyes were alive with passion — the emotional kind. It filtered into him through his pores from her skin, through his parted lips from her breaths that flavored his tongue. Sweet. Electric. More powerful than anything in the universe, it eclipsed even the Golden Power.

  "I love you," she said. "No conditions. No qualifications. And I fight for what I love, I fight with everything I've got, until there's nothing left in me. You should know this by now. You know me."

  He did. And that's what terrified him. Grace Powell would never give up, because she loved him.

  Her passion flowed out of her whenever their eyes met, whenever their fingers brushed or their lips tasted each other. He'd struggled for so long to restrain his own ardor, his devotion to her, his need to unite with her in every possible way. She owned his heart, his mind, his soul.

  At last, he understood what he must do. His mistake had been to shut her out in a vain attempt to divorce their minds and sever, or at least weaken, their connection. Why had he ever believed that would protect her? The solution was right in front of him, entwined with him, caressing him and gazing into his eyes with the gleam of pure love in those beautiful golden irises.

  He hugged her tight. "I will never leave you again. We're in this together, until the end." He let his lips skim over hers. The intoxicating sweetness of her teased his senses. "No more running. I'm with you, forever."

  She smiled against his mouth, her hips wriggling. "I'm with you, David. Forever."

  His feet, once rooted in place, lightened — along with the rest of him — until he was sure he must've floated up off the floor with her secure in his arms.

  She canted her head, stroking her fingertips down his cheek. The movement of her head streaked firelight across her eyes. The shadows beneath them stood out against her creamy skin.

  A weight swelled in his chest. He grasped her hands and pulled them down to his chest. "When did you last eat?"

  Chewing her lip, she considered the question. "Breakfast."

  "Grace." He glanced around the cabin. "I wonder if there's any food around here."

  "Bottled water and canned goods in the pantry." She nodded toward a doorway at the far side of the living room. "Through there."

  "How… "

  She hunched her shoulders. "Limitless knowledge."

  Understanding bloomed in his mind and heart. The information she'd gained from the Golden Power persisted inside her. Not for long. He knew how to save her from ever again having to tangle with the ultimate power source, and the answer was ridiculously simple.

  All he had to do was love her.

  With passion, purpose, and absolute conviction.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Grace sat at the kitchen table in a stranger's house, which she'd appropriated without permission, and scooped up the last forkful of baked beans purloined from the pantry. The rustle of pine needles on the roof, stirred by the wind, lulled her senses. The low purr of the electric can opener lured her attention to the man busily liberating a second batch of canned peaches. Her man.

  She couldn't recall thinking of him that way before, but tonight she embraced the term. Her man. He was hers, after all, bonded to her by a ring and a telepathic connection. And love. Deep, unfaltering love.

  The beany scent wafting up from from her fork made her wrinkle her nose. Her stomach protested at the idea of accepting more food, particularly beans. It wasn't a very romantic dinner, what with gas-inducing beans and eating straight from the cans.

  "I'm full," she said.

  He half turned to frown at her. "Fruit has electrolytes or something, stuff you need after overtaxing your powers and your body."

  "I'm regular taxed, not over." She waggled her fork. "I'm finishing the beans, and that's it. I'll barf if you make me eat any more peaches."

  "Gr — " He'd been about to Grace her, but thought better of it. Smart man. Instead, he set down the can opener and plucked up a peach slice. Juice dribbled onto the counter. He tossed the slice into his mouth, chewing with vigor.

  She wrinkled her nose again when he tipped the can toward her.

  One corner of his mouth dimpled downward.

  He was anxious, she realized then. About her health and their relationship. About their inevitable confrontation with Tesler. About the future, if they lived lone enough to have one.

  So she rolled her eyes, shoved the beans in her mouth, and forked a peach slice.

  David turned away, absorbed with the task of replacing the can opener precisely where he'd found it, in a holder affixed to the wall. His actions afforded her the chance to admire him in secret. With his back to her, he didn't know she was ogling his tight butt, the way his muscles rippled under his weekend-warrior outfit. Damn, he looked hot in camo.

  Done with the can opener, he nabbed a container of disinfectant wipes and set about cleaning up the juice he'd drizzled on the counter.

  She thrust the peach slice into her mouth and munched with more ferocity than necessary. The crisp efficiency of his movements, as he swept a soft, damp cloth over smooth counter, awakened her body more than she would've expected. She was exhausted. But all of a sudden, her skin tingled with anticipation and she squeezed her thighs together to squelch a dull throb in her most intimate places.

  Oh, to be that countertop, bathed by his deft hands.

  Eyes averted to her own pl
ate, she chewed harder. The owner of this cabin clearly adored beans — the pantry was stocked full of them — as well as cream corn, sliced peaches, and ravioli. Her first meal in more hours than her weary brain could calculate consisted of these items. David had insisted she eat all of it, and just to be more stubborn, he gobbled up his own servings of the odd feast.

  She hadn't wanted to eat anything, despite the grumbling in her stomach. Questions battered her mind. How long would her confusion tactics deter Tesler? Was the facility still in the dark, or had her permanent disabling of their systems turned out to be not so permanent? Had Tesler already dispatched commandos to hunt them? What could she and David do to save themselves?

  Run. That was their sole option.

  Swallowing her food, she dropped her fork onto the table with a clack. They couldn't run. Tesler would hunt them wherever they hid. This ended one way — with a battle, bloodshed, pain, and death.

  They must ensure the death was Tesler's.

  David snatched up her fork and the empty bean can, pecked a kiss on her forehead, and strode back to the counter. Damp cloth. Strong hands. Swirling motions of his powerful fingers.

  He shut off the water and took a seat opposite her, one arm draped on the table, one ankle braced atop the other knee. A slight smile loosened his mouth, and his entire expression. Since his pronouncement he would never leave her again, his demeanor had altered so much her head spun from the shock of it. Tense, distant David morphed into relaxed, determined David. It was like he reached some important decision.

  His anxiety hadn't completely fled. He'd needed to clean up, after all. But otherwise, he was… different.

  Maybe this was the man he'd been before, during those months she still couldn't remember. Whatever the reason for his change, it did things to her. Subtle, sensual things.

  He stretched his hand out to lace his fingers with hers.

  She had to test this, to make sure he wasn't glossing over his issues for her benefit. The heat of his hand spread into her, though, melting away doubt.

  Dammit. She snapped her spine straight and zeroed her gaze in on his, on those gleaming blue eyes. "Do you still believe you betrayed me?"

  He flinched, just a tad. His fingers loosened their grip on hers, only for a second, then clinched her tighter. "I did, Grace. We both have to accept it."

  She let out a long sigh. "No, David, I don't think we do. I think I can prove whether the video is accurate."

  "How? There's no computer here. You can't access the flash drive." His gaze zoomed in on her breasts, right where the device in question lay nestled between them. A hungry spark glinted in his eyes.

  Desire thrummed inside her.

  Snap out of it. Her self-admonishment broke the spell, and the idea she'd hatched a little while ago surfaced in her hormone-drenched brain. "Amador mentioned a power called postcognition. Apparently, some people can view past events, as if they were there at the time it happened. Kind of like psychic time travel."

  His lips pursed. His fingers dug into her palm. "You and Amador have gotten close, I gather."

  The acid in his tone burned her, but she wouldn't relent this time. "I barely know him, and no, I do not trust him." She wrapped his hand in both of hers. "This might not work, I mean, for all I know Amador's full of shit."

  David snorted.

  She pinched his hand, rewarded by his playful smile. "I'm going to try it. Postcognition."

  One of his brows lifted. "Do you have any idea how it works?"

  "No. Do you?"

  He gave a curt shake of his head. "First I've heard of it."

  She shrugged. "I didn't know how to use the Golden Power either, but I did." She leaned forward, her grip on his hand firm. "If the video is real, and you did this, it wasn't your fault. Nothing changes between us. But if you didn't do it, don't you want to know?"

  He rubbed his neck and shifted in his seat, grimacing. She massaged the back of his hand with her thumb. When she was about to speak, to reassure him, he abruptly bent forward and his expression switched back into relaxed assurance, as if he'd reaffirmed his mysterious decision.

  "All right," he said. "Do it."

  "Close your eyes and remember the video."

  One corner of his mouth lifted. "Thought you had no idea how to do this."

  "I don't, but I have a plan." She gave his hand a light slap. "Shut up and do as I say."

  "Yes, ma'am." With his free hand, he saluted her.

  She restrained a grin, stifled a laugh, and forced herself to concentrate on the task ahead. David closed his eyes, per her original instructions. She raised her hands before her, as if praying, with his hand sandwiched between them. "Try not to freak out at what I'm going to do. Okay?"

  "I don't freak out." He cracked one eyelid to peek at her. "I can handle whatever you can."

  "This is not a test of your machismo." She rested her chin on their joined hands, her lips grazing his knuckles. "I'm about to throw open the floodgates."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Between our minds. I'm going to open the psychic floodgates. I don't know what will happen."

  Both his sapphire eyes locked on her with unnerving intensity. "You think I'm holding back with you."

  "Aren't you?"

  He wiggled his fingers to tickle her lips. "Not anymore."

  Something in his tone convinced her he meant it, which shot a bolt of heat lightning through her entire body. David unbridled? She couldn't remember a time when he didn't hold back. Hell, she couldn't remember a time when she didn't either.

  His jewel eyes glimmered from inside, with the secret fire only a traveler sustained. He was unleashing his powers even now. The tendrils licked at her psyche in an almost sensual way.

  "Go ahead," he told her, in a husky tone. "My mind is yours."

  Somehow, he turned the statement into an erotic challenge.

  He shut his eyes, his expression serene. In flat voice, he said, "Whatever you do, Grace, make sure you keep that firewall up."

  "Okay." Suddenly, her heart was pounding. She drew in several deep breaths to steady herself, closed her eyes, and knocked down the barriers shielding her mind, her soul, from him — though she kept the firewall intact. These were private floodgates in a channel connecting the two of them, and no one else. Her psychic intruder couldn't sneak in, she knew it, without understanding how she knew. The truth of it resonated inside her.

  The essence of David flowed in, as she poured all of herself back into him. No hiding anymore. If he could let loose, in mind and spirit, then so could she. Part of her had longed for this, dreamed of it even, the day when they might come together without fears or doubts. This was it.

  Their link unfurled, an iridescent thread of blue in the darkness. She took hold and let it draw her in, to a place buried deep in his memory.

  Static. Voices.

  Pain bit down on her. She wrestled free of it, undeterred from her goal. Help me see, David.

  White light exploded around her. She tumbled headlong into the brilliance, toward the voices and the static. Without warning, she burst out into the world.

  Into the past.

  David lies in a chair, strapped down, slumped, eyes open but vacant. The drugs have immobilized him, in body and mind. A bruise, dark purple and blue, covers one entire forearm, and blood trickles from a gash on his head. She senses him there, but too weak to form coherent thoughts. When she reaches out to his mind, her powers bounce back from it. This is the past. She can't communicate with him.

  Yet even here, their connection binds them. It's how she's found him. David in the present guided her. David in the past anchors her.

  Tesler slouches a few feet from the chair, at David's feet. He holds a syringe in one hand, turning it over and over between his fingers. The syringe is empty. He stares at David, his expression cool, det
ached.

  Behind him, another man waits. He touches his face, eyes wide, and says, "Dr. Tesler? Is he… "

  "Alive." Tesler's tone is cool too. "Though perhaps I should terminate him. He's of no use to me anymore."

  "Terminate?" The other man pushes up his glasses, clearing throat. "Uh, is that really necessary?"

  Tesler whirls on his colleague. His lip curls as he spits words. "It is if I say so."

  "Yes, Dr. Tesler."

  "Perhaps he can still be of some use… " Tesler glances over his shoulder at David, who blinks slowly, jaw hanging loose.

  Tesler marches past his colleague, and with a flick of his hand, orders the other man to follow him. She follows too, a ghost in this event. Tesler storms out into the corridor, down the passage, to another door marked as an excursion suite. He flings the door inward. It bangs into the wall.

  Inside the room, a startled technician jerks his head up to gape at Tesler. "Sir — "

  "Has he told you anything yet?" Tesler says, as he barges into the room.

  "Nothing, sir."

  She freezes. God in heaven.

  There, bound to a chair, sits Sean. He's weeping, sobbing, his face streaked with blood that runs from wounds hidden by his hair. Raw, red burns blister his arms.

  Detached. She must remain detached. This happened last year. It's horrible, but it's over, and Sean is fine now. She just saw him, walking off with Amador and Nkosi.

  She must stay focused.

  "What about Ransom?" the tech asks.

  Tesler hurls the empty syringe into the wall. "He's with her now, I know it. Yet he resists all my attempts to wring the information out of him. I gave him a stimulant to pull him back from the excursion, but he resists that too." Tesler cocks his head, focusing in on Sean. "Perhaps this mewling mutant can be of assistance."

  David is traveling. That's why she sensed a vacancy in him, what she mistook for an effect of the drugs.

  He's with her, the her from this moment in time.

  Tesler waves the tech away, and turns to his colleague. "Get me the serum, Yellen."