by Anise Eden
“All of what?” The muscles in the middle of my chest grew taut. “Ben said—I mean, Captain Abbott told us we wouldn’t be in any danger.”
“There’s no reason why you should be.” She began cleaning off the weight lifting equipment with a spray bottle and towel. “But there are always risks on a mission like this. And Ben told us there are also risks in the kind of work you all do, although I don’t really know anything about what those are.”
Unfortunately, I did. My whole body tensed as I thought back to my cardiac arrest experience of the week before. My growing anxiety must have showed, because Nessa added, “I’m really sorry if I worried you. I was just surprised. Ben’s usually so conservative when it comes to safety.”
With a subtle eye roll, I said, “I kind of picked up on that.”
“Already?” She smiled broadly. “Well, anyway. Being a psychotherapist—that sounds like a great job. It must be really satisfying to help people like that.”
“It was,” I said, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
She frowned. “Was?”
“I had to quit to come to work for the MacGregors. I was told that I can’t do two types of helping jobs at once or I’ll get burned out.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” As she spoke, Nessa unzipped a gym bag against the wall, took out her ponytail, brushed her hair, and replaced the band. “Is that because you’re—an empath? Did I get that right?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Ben told us a little bit about what everybody’s abilities are. I’ll admit, I’m still a little foggy on what you all do, but it’s clear that you’re a pretty amazing group. I’m starting to understand why Ben didn’t come back to the Corps.”
“Were you expecting him to?”
She tossed her linens into a plastic trashcan that doubled as a laundry basket. “Kind of. I mean, everybody understood why he left after his dad died. We all figured he’d go home for six months, maybe a year, however long it took to get his mom situated. But the Corps was his real home. He fit in so perfectly here, it was like he was born to it. None of us could imagine him truly being happy being anywhere else, doing anything else.” Looking pensive, she added, “I guess we were wrong.”
It was a question I hadn’t thought to ask before. Ben seemed so dedicated to his role managing the MacGregor Group. But did he really enjoy it, or was he just making the best of it because he knew his mother needed his help? The way Nessa talked, it sounded as though the Corps was his true calling—a calling from which he’d been wrenched away by tragic circumstances. The mere thought of that possibility made my heart sore. I decided that whenever a good moment arose, I would find a way to broach the subject with him.
“You ready for coffee?” Nessa asked.
“Sure, thanks.”
“Thank you for spotting,” she said as she grabbed her gym bag and led me into the hall.
“You’re welcome, although the way you handled those weights, it was obvious you didn’t need me.”
“Thanks, but that was just a light workout—trying to keep from turning into jelly while we’re stuck down here.” She shot me a playful grin. “So, dating after a week? That must have been some week—and Ben must have been on his best behavior.”
I laughed lightly, unsure how to respond. “I guess when you really connect with someone, things can happen quickly.”
“That’s true,” she said warmly. “I hope everything goes well for the two of you. We joke around about him, but Ben’s one of the good guys.”
“Thanks. I hope things go well, too.”
I sensed a slight but definite downshift in her mood. I wondered for a moment whether there had ever been anything more than friendship between her and Ben. But when I focused on Nessa and opened up my empathic senses, I knew immediately that she was a what-you-see-is-what-you-get type of person. Her energy was refreshing, like windows thrown open. Her statement about Ben being “one of the good guys” had been completely straightforward; I sensed no underlying romantic emotions or hints of a hidden history. So they really had been just friends. Maybe what I’d picked up was simply Nessa’s sadness that her good friend hadn’t returned to the Corps as she had hoped.
Still, watching her work out had drawn my attention to the contrasts between Nessa and me. She was physically fit and strong; I got winded going up more than one flight of stairs. She was tall and lithe; I was of average height with a surfeit of curves. Since she was a marine, I figured she was capable of handling just about anything, whereas I had fainted the previous week after Vani did some basic maintenance work on my aura. Nessa was the kind of woman I would have pictured with Ben, not me.
Cut it out, I told myself as my heartbeat wobbled. I closed my eyes and noticed the weight of the ring on my finger, the talisman Ben had given me just for those moments of doubt. I needed to pull myself together. “Do you think I can get my coffee in a to-go cup? I left a note saying I wouldn’t be gone long, and they might need my help with Dr. Belo anytime.”
“No problem,” Nessa said, opening a new door. “We’ve got some travel mugs.”
• • •
I was shaken out of a shallow sleep by a series of knocks. “Cate?”
Instantly alert, I jumped up and opened the door. Ben was leaning against the doorjamb. His drawn, tight expression softened into a half smile when our eyes met. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I resisted the temptation to leap at him, seeing that every one of his gestures telegraphed fatigue. “Come in.”
“Thanks.” He collapsed into the chair and leaned his elbow on the desk.
“What’s going on?”
He blew out a heavy breath. “We’re just not having much luck with Dr. Belo. We’ve all been working with him, trying various things. I wish we had more time to experiment, but his condition is deteriorating. I think we’re going to have to move on to plan B after all.”
“I’m so sorry, Ben. What do you need me to do?” I moved to stand, but Ben held his hand up.
“Nothing right now,” he said. “Braz is sleeping at the moment, and he needs his rest. Our group will meet after dinner to work out a plan.”
“Okay.” The silence of the room was broken as my stomach rumbled. “Excuse me. I think it was your mention of dinner….”
“No need to apologize. You must be starving. I was coming to take you to the mess hall, in fact…” But his expression dimmed as he examined me. He came over and sat next to me on the bed. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”
I’d been trying to keep my expression neutral, but Ben was getting better and better at reading me. “Well, nothing, really,” I said, but that didn’t stop the worry lines on his brow from gathering together. “I just hung out with Nessa for a little bit this afternoon.”
“What happened? Didn’t you two get along?”
“Of course we did. That’s not it. It’s just…” I shrugged. “The way Nessa talked, it sounded like you really loved being in the Marine Corps, like you were at home there. I made me wonder why you never went back.”
“Oh, that.” Ben looked down and ran his fingers over his jawline. “Well, Nessa’s right; I did love being in the Corps. If my mother hadn’t needed my help, I likely never would have left. A part of me will always miss it, and in truth, a part of me will never leave. Once a marine, always a marine.” Ben smoothed a lock of hair away from my face. “But once I’d been out for a while, talking with my mother about her work, I realized how much the idea of running the clinic appealed to me, as well. For one thing, I would be in charge, which suited me.”
I bit my lip to keep from smirking. “You don’t say.”
A smile played across Ben’s lips. “I readily admit that I like to be in control of things. And the work itself is similar. Both in the Corps and at the clinic, I’m able to help people in real ways—protecting those who are vulnerable, and teaching them how to protect themselves. Throw in my interests in healing and the paranormal—thanks to my mother’s research�
��and while it wasn’t an easy choice, I’m confident that it was the right one.”
He looked so certain that I was inclined to believe him. It was hard to think straight, though, because Ben had begun stroking my hair, igniting me like a slow-burning furnace. I closed my eyes and took in the sensations. “So, even being with your old unit again—no regrets?”
“None. Cate, look at me.” Ben’s hands cradled my face, holding it inches from his. “I’m exactly where I want to be—in the right place, doing the right work.” As though he had sensed my secret insecurities, he added, “And most importantly, now I’m with the right person. Why would I ever want to leave?” He searched my face. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I wanted to; I really wanted to. I willed the portal between us to open, inhaling sharply as his passion for me crashed through—and his determination that I acknowledge it. “Yes,” I whispered.
The gold flecks in his eyes shimmered. “Good.”
A longing to be as close to Ben as possible wended its way through my body. I slid my fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him toward me until our lips were nearly touching. Mesmerized, we stared into each other’s eyes for a few more seconds, not speaking or moving. Then I placed my lips gently against his, pulled his lower lip into my mouth, and gave it a soft bite.
I both heard and felt his sharp intake of breath. As my tongue traced the inside of his lip, he emitted a low growl. I opened my mouth ever so slightly, inviting him in.
That was all the encouragement Ben needed. First, he savored my lips, and I sighed as a flush of heat made my whole body go weak. He slid an arm around my back and another beneath my knees and swept me onto his lap, pulling away from our kiss just long enough to allow me a gasp of air. Then, his mouth returned to ravage mine, swallowing each whimper that escaped my throat and pushing fire through my limbs.
As my longing sharpened, my body began to do things without first consulting my mind. Of their own accord, my arms wrapped themselves around Ben’s shoulders and my fingernails dug into the hard muscle of his back as his tongue plundered me. The searing heat that filled my body spread outward, sensitizing every square inch of my skin.
Suddenly, Ben broke the kiss. Moving his lips against my earlobe, he murmured devilishly, “Your eyes are turning from green to grey again.” It was a reminder that he had learned my “tell”—how my eyes change color when I’m aroused—and that he knew exactly what state I was in.
The fresh heat of a blush splashed across my cheeks, but as I turned my head to reply, Ben’s mouth covered mine again. Another current of desire shot through me and my back arched, pressing my chest against his, asking. It was the agony of a promise I knew wasn’t going to be fulfilled for some time. Still, it was a delicious agony.
I slid one hand down to his waist and tucked my fingers into his belt. Ben started slightly at this new touch. Then, much to my dismay, he began to slowly extract himself from my embrace. Eventually we were both looking down, nearly panting, with our foreheads pressed together.
Between breaths, Ben said, “If we keep this up, we’re going to be late for our meeting.”
Our meeting. Of course. I felt a painful stab of guilt for sitting there making out while a man was lying nearby in a coma. For a few selfish moments, I’d forgotten entirely why we were there. I took a few slow, deep breaths in an effort to get my vital signs back to normal.
Ben was the first to find the conviction to stand. “We still have time to grab some dinner.”
All at once, I was reminded of the work I’d done with Ben the week before to help him overcome his fear of eating in front of other people. Concern needled me. “Are you going to eat, too?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“I already did, doctor,” he said with mock gravitas. “Don’t worry. This place is full of marines. I’ll be fine.”
“Oh, right.” I’d forgotten—his fellow marines were the one group of people with whom Ben had always felt comfortable breaking bread. His phobia caused him to believe that if he ate with anyone else, they would die afterwards. Using empathic healing techniques and mealtime therapy, I had managed to get Ben comfortable eating with me. I was relieved, though, that as long as we were in the subbasement, there were plenty of people around with whom Ben could enjoy a meal. It wasn’t entirely clear why his phobia was dormant around his fellow marines, but Ben figured it had something to do with the fact that they all accepted a certain level of danger just by joining the Corps.
Ben stood and held his hand out to me. “Ready?”
“Always.” I plastered on a fake smile to cover my nerves. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Six
We were the last ones to arrive for our meeting in the conference room. Pete and Asa played cards while Vani, Eve, and Kai decried the lack of mirrors with decent lighting in our underground home.
When they spotted us, the room fell quiet. There were several broad smiles. I could feel the blood rising to the surface of my cheeks. Kai shot a warning look around the room like a boomerang. “Come on people. We talked about this, remember?” He rolled his eyes at Ben and me. “They promised to try to act normal—normal for us, anyway.”
“And to not make a big deal out of the fact that you’re an item now,” Vani added with her signature diplomacy.
Kai shielded his eyes with his hand and shook his head. “You see what I’m dealing with here.”
Eve began to giggle, but stifled it immediately when Kai glanced her way.
Ben slipped a protective arm around my waist. “Thank you, everyone, for trying to act normal, at least,” he said. “We appreciate it.”
As self-conscious as I felt, their positivity was contagious, and I couldn’t help smiling. “Thank you for being happy for us.”
Kai came over and gave me a quick hug. “Of course, baby. We all love both of you.” Then he looked off into the distance and tapped his finger against the side of his mouth. “Well, we love you. Ben’s all right.”
“Thank you, Kai,” Ben said dryly, then slipped into manager mode. “Okay, folks, what do you say we fill Cate in?”
“Yes,” I said, eager to cement the change of subject. “I’d really like to hear what you’ve been doing with Dr. Belo and what I can do to help.”
Much to my relief, that was all the rest of the group needed to hear. We congregated at the front end of the conference table and they filled me in on the situation.
Dr. Belo had a pacemaker and was on a ventilator, so Eve had given him acupuncture to help support his heart and lung functions. Under Kai’s watchful eye, she had also ventured into one of her precog trances, which had yielded the sight of Dr. Belo in a casket. Then her vision had speared off into disturbing images of enormous dark armies marching across the globe—this despite the fact that their hearts had been torn out, leaving open wounds in their chests. Her vision had confirmed that Dr. Belo wasn’t going to make it, but no one had yet figured out what significance the other images held. Eve sheepishly suggested that her subconscious might have brought in the dark armies from the zombie apocalypse video game she and Asa had been playing on our trip to NIH. But given the accuracy of Eve’s previous visions of the future, the others weren’t willing to be so sanguine.
Vani had cleared Dr. Belo’s aura of negative energy, thereby strengthening his immune system. Then, using a special crystal and something called Tibetan singing bowls, Kai had put Asa into the new trance state he’d learned about from the meditation specialists. It had been a success; while in trance, Asa was able to channel Dr. Belo’s thoughts without getting a headache. Asa effectively became a conduit, even using Dr. Belo’s body language and speaking his thoughts in the first person. As it turned out, the doctors had been correct; Dr. Belo’s cognitive functions remained fully intact, with one crucial exception. He was completely unable to recall the day of his poisoning or the day prior. Since no brain damage was evident, they concluded that he was suffering from a psychological block, probably trauma-related.
>
Ben and Skeet had tried every technique they could think of to help Dr. Belo overcome the block: hypnotism, progressive relaxation, visualization—the works. They’d even had a phone consultation with Dr. MacGregor to get her ideas about what might be effective. Ben figured that if they’d had a few more weeks with Dr. Belo, they might have succeeded.
But we only had days at best, not weeks. Skeet thought it was time to bring me in, hoping that my skills could speed the process along. Ben was initially reluctant, but Skeet had worn him down—with Kai’s help, apparently. Kai was confident that I could handle it.
“I’m starting to get it now,” I said. “You want me to submerge into him?”
Ben nodded. “We know it might not work, but it’s all we’ve got left.”
Empathic submergence, or the ability to enter someone else’s consciousness, was one of my paranormal gifts. Ben said they hoped I could combine my submergence technique with psychotherapeutic skills to resolve whatever psychological block was causing Braz’s memory loss. They wanted me to do this—a person who hadn’t even known what an empath was until the week before.
No pressure, I thought, I’m just their last resort. To distract myself from a rush of anxiety, I asked, “So what’s Dr. Belo like?”
Vani rolled her eyes dramatically and flipped her hair back. “He’s a horrible flirt, for one thing.”
Asa nodded in agreement. “He isn’t exactly appropriate all of the time—although his argument is that since he’s dying, he can say whatever he wants.”
That sounded like a fair point. “And his mental faculties are really intact?”
“Definitely,” Ben said. “He’s sharp as a tack.”
“Yeah, but you have to catch him while he’s awake,” Asa said. “He fades in and out of sleep, and he has really weird dreams.”
“Okay,” I said, “one last question. The only way I’ve ever been able to submerge into people before was by making eye contact. How am I going to submerge into someone who can’t open his eyes?”
