Unspeakable (Beyond Human)

by Nina Croft

  “Do you work out a lot?” she asked.

  He grunted in reply, and she dipped into his mind.

  “Really? Every day? Do you think you might be overcompensating for something?”

  He stopped abruptly so she almost stumbled. “Get out of my fucking head.”

  “You really don’t like women, do you, Fergus?” She sighed. “You know, you need to get over it. You didn’t really love her anyway. Not really.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Fuck off.” And they resumed their forced march.

  She decided she could probably take him after all. She’d get him so pissed off he wouldn’t be able to see straight. Plus, however misogynistic he might be, he’d never hit a woman in his life, and she was pretty sure he wouldn’t start now. She knew that because he’d been thinking about it a lot since he met her.

  She patted his arm. “I’ll grow on you, honest.”

  Unlikely, but maybe it would cheer him up.

  He growled in reply.

  They’d been walking fifteen minutes when she felt a tap in her mind.

  “Sadie?”

  “Hey there, Jake. At last. Where’ve you been?”

  “I was checking out a lead in Birmingham. Thank God, you’re okay. You are okay, aren’t you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You look fine. Which is unexpected. I like the new image—very smart.”

  “Piss off.”

  “So what the hell were you doing? Going out without backup? What have I told you—?”

  “Yeah, you were right. Sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” Shock reverberated through his mind, and she almost giggled. She doubted Jake—or anyone for that matter—had ever heard her apologize before. Fergus slowed his pace and stopped. He gave her a sideways glance, and she blanked her expression, then glared at him. “What?”

  He looked at her, suspicion in his hazel eyes, then he peered around them, obviously saw nothing suspicious, and continued walking.

  “How’s Max?” she asked Jake.

  “Missing you.” He sighed through her mind. “Christ, it’s good to see you. I thought…”

  She knew what he’d thought—that he’d lost another. “You can’t lose me.”

  He was quiet for a moment, then he spoke again, “Who’s that with you? It’s not Weiland.”

  “This is Fergus, my watchdog.”

  “Is there anyone else with you, tailing you?”

  “No. I’m pretty sure not.”

  “Good. Well, be prepared. We’re going to take him out and get you home.”

  “No. Don’t do that.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “If you give me a second, I’ll tell you.”

  At that moment, they came to a halt. She looked up, they were outside a restaurant—Dino’s. The place Ethan had mentioned. Their first date, she felt quite nostalgic.

  “Sadie, what’s going on?”

  “Just give me a minute. I don’t want Fergus to suspect I’m talking to you.”

  “He knows you can do that?”

  “Unfortunately, and he’s not happy about it.”

  “No, he isn’t.” Jake had obviously had a peek into his mind. She giggled and caught an echo of Jake’s shock. “You seem almost…happy. What is it?”

  “I’ll tell you when we’re inside.”

  “Okay.”

  Fergus pushed open the door and ushered her into the restaurant. He spoke to the hostess, who nodded and immediately led them through the tables to one situated in an alcove at the back.

  The place smelled of warm bread, garlic, and herbs, and her stomach rumbled. There was an air of affluence despite the homey feel provided by the checked tablecloths and wooden beams.

  The table was for two, so it looked like Fergus wouldn’t be joining them for dinner. She sat down in the chair the hostess pulled out for her, ordered a bottle of red wine to keep her going, and picked up a breadstick from the basket on the table. She nibbled on it as Fergus took the seat across from her. She had hoped he’d go sit somewhere else and leave her with her thoughts. And Jake’s, of course.

  Instead, he stared at her as though he could see into her mind. Hard luck.

  “You’re giving me a headache, Fergus. Stop thinking those negative thoughts.” She sat back and closed her eyes.

  “Jake?”

  “I’m here. Talk to me.”

  “I think there’s a chance that Kaitlin and the others are alive.”

  “How?” The word came across without expression, as though he were holding back whatever he was thinking. But that was Jake for you.

  “Ethan says that the man in charge of the project took off six months ago, after Webber was assassinated. I think he was worried that we were getting close. His projects would all have been put on hold, but very likely any hostages would have been kept. They’re a valuable asset, and there would have been no reason to kill them.” When he remained silent, she pushed on, “It’s a chance, Jake, and however small, I want to follow this through.”

  “Why is Weiland helping you?”

  “He wants something in return. Some information about his mother that’s tied to the Conclave. I’m not sure what—he’s got it locked up tight.”

  “And you can get him that?”

  “They have an annual meeting. Everyone will be there. I’ll go along as his assistant, read a few minds, find the truth, and he…” She gave a mental shrug—she wasn’t sure what he planned.

  “Where is this meeting?”

  “It’s not decided until the last minute, but I’ll find a way to get the location to you.”

  “And we could destroy the lot of them in one go.”

  “Yes.”

  Did she want that? Ethan dead. She peeked at the man on the opposite side of the table. Did she even want Fergus to die? He wasn’t a bad man.

  “I sense you’re conflicted about this. What is it, Sadie? Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  Jake’s question pulled her from her thoughts, and at that moment, the waiter arrived with her wine, and she was quiet while he poured. She tasted and gave a nod. It was perfection, deep and rich, and she held it on her tongue while she considered her answer.

  “Maybe I’m thinking about blowing up a party and all the collateral damage.”

  “There’s always collateral damage.”

  “You sound like Kane.” He was silent, and she continued, “Is that who we are, Jake?”

  “These people are responsible for the death of Sam and Josie and the others.”

  “I know and I want the people responsible dead. But what about the staff and the Conclave members who knew nothing. Is this really for Sam and the others? Or is it all about Kane’s mission and his need for secrecy?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Ethan knows nothing of this. Jake…he’s not an evil man, just one who doesn’t know a different way. I’ve actually been in his head—he likes the idea of a world without lies.”

  “What is he to you? You obviously knew something about this Weiland guy before all this.”

  “I recognized him the night at Forrester’s.”

  “Recognized him from where?”

  She took a deep breath, still undecided as to what to tell him.

  “Sadie?” he prompted.

  “From my dreams.”

  “What?” Clearly that wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

  “I told you I’d been having dreams.”

  “These are the same dreams that come true?”

  “Not always.” Did she sound defensive?

  He sighed. “And what happened in your dream?”

  “I told him I loved him.”

  He was silent for what seemed like an age. “I think we should get you out of there. Now.”

  “No. This is our best chance at finding the others.”

  “If they’re alive.”

  “If there’s any chance at all that they’re alive. And Ethan believes there’s a good chance.”

 
; “Christ, I need to think about this.” She could almost see him running his hands through his hair.

  “Go talk to Christa,” she said. Christa always helped him see things straight. She was about the brightest person Sadie had ever met.

  “Okay…for now. But I’m going to have someone close by at all times. Keep them informed of anything…anything at all that might be of use.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you know where you’re staying?”

  She gave him Ethan’s home address. As she was finishing up, she glanced up to see him walking across the restaurant toward her. Something twisted deep in her gut. Maybe Jake was right, and she should get out of there while she could still walk away unscathed.

  Or maybe it was too late for that. Maybe she was already in too deep.

  Something about him made her yearn for the world to be a better place, made her forget about the pain of the past and long for a future she’d never even imagined.

  “He’s shielded,” Jake said in her head.

  “I know, and I’m still staying.”

  “Just keep safe. I’m going to call one of the others, but I’ll stay close until backup arrives.”

  “Okay.”

  “If you at any time feel like you’re in danger, call for help.”

  “I will.”

  And he was gone.

  Fergus rose to his feet, relief flooding his system. He seriously wasn’t comfortable with her. What did he think she was going to see in there?

  “Are you leaving us?” she asked. “And we were having so much fun.”

  “I’ll be across the room,” he said to Ethan, ignoring her comment.

  She sipped her wine as she watched him take his seat. He’d showered and changed into black jeans and a black sweater, his dark hair still damp, and she caught the flash of silver at his ear. Disappointment stabbed her in the gut, and she really didn’t understand why. Had she expected any different? But she’d liked being in his head, and that wasn’t often true.

  “Nice tiara,” she said. “It suits you.”

  “It was a present from my father.”

  She sniffed. “Anyone would think you didn’t trust me.”

  “I don’t, but that’s not why. I’m guessing you’ve picked my brain clean.”

  “So why?”

  “I thought we might have dinner together, like normal people, talk like normal people.”

  “What a novel idea.”

  “I’m tired.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Well, then let’s agree to have a pleasant dinner, forget about everything else for the evening, eat some food, drink some wine, go home and sleep. Then tomorrow, we can start all over again.”

  She shouldn’t, really, she shouldn’t. This man had the ability to get under her skin as no other had. He made her forget who she was, what she wanted from life. Revenge. What else was there?

  But she wanted to. Just for tonight.

  “Let’s order.” She raised a hand, and the waiter appeared like magic. “I need pasta,” she said without looking at the menu. “Lots and lots of pasta, the long flat sort. With carbonara sauce and extra cheese.”

  “I’ll have the same.”

  “And garlic bread to start…make that with extra cheese, as well.”

  He was smiling as the waiter walked away. He filled her glass and his own and sat back, studying her closely. “So tell me about yourself. Not the telepath stuff—well, not yet, we’ll work up to that. Tell me about your childhood. Were you happy?”

  She frowned. “I guess so.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “I was fostered and moved around a lot. But I had my sister.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Josie.”

  “Were you identical?”

  “No, but very similar—it was easy to tell we were sisters. But she was the good one. And she was…” She paused. She didn’t know how to say this without sounding disrespectful to her sister. She’d loved Josie, but she’d always known they were different. “She wasn’t…very bright.” Her sister had started reading three years later than she had. She used to read Josie stories in bed under the covers at night with a torch. “But she was so good. She was the sweetest, kindest person I’ve ever met. Much nicer than me.” No one had ever accused Sadie of being nice. Except for Josie.

  Pain wrapped around her heart.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

  “You didn’t. I can manage that all on my own. But the memories are mostly good. I used to lead her astray terribly. That’s why we were moved so often.”

  “Were you always telepathic?”

  “No, it started when we were both eleven, though Josie was never very strong.”

  “I bet that was amazing. Reading the teachers, the other kids. I bet you had a whole load of fun.”

  “No, actually, back then, the only person I read was Josie. We’d had it drummed into us from a very early age—we must never, and I mean ever, go into anyone’s head who wasn’t a target. And when something is drilled into you enough, it tends to stick.”

  The garlic bread arrived, wafting divine fumes straight into her nostrils. She tore a piece off, chewed it, ate some more. She didn’t speak again until the plate was empty. Ethan waved at a passing waiter and ordered another.

  “I have a very fast metabolism,” she said. “We all do.”

  “All? How many are you?”

  “I thought we weren’t talking about this.” She studied him a moment. She didn’t think he was trying to get information. He was just curious. And Christ, who wouldn’t be? He’d actually taken the whole telepathy thing very calmly. All the same, she didn’t want to give up too much. This relaxed atmosphere, the let’s-pretend-we’re-normal routine was all a little seductive. Not that she’d ever really hankered after a normal life. It sounded boring to her, but to pretend for a little while…

  “What about you?” she asked. “Where did you grow up?”

  For a second, she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he smiled. “My main home was in Scotland.”

  “Really? You should talk to Jake. He was brought up in the Highlands.”

  “Jake?”

  She gave him a smile. “A friend.”

  “He didn’t by any chance know a Martin Rayleigh in Scotland, did he?”

  She gave a shrug and took a sip of wine. “Maybe. But we’re supposed to be talking about you.”

  “Okay. My dad owns a castle in Scotland, on the edge of a small loch. Beautiful, but cold and wet. I prefer the south. Anyway, he didn’t spend too much time there, and I remember traveling with him, even when I was really young. My mother would follow him anywhere.”

  “Aw, they were in love.”

  Something dark flickered in his eyes. She wished she could read his mind. She knew the information he wanted from her was tied to his mother.

  “What happened to her? Is she still around?”

  “No, she’s dead.” He shook his head. “Let’s not talk about this.”

  She didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that talking about his mother made him sad. Something must have happened, and he’d never resolved the issues. But she’d leave it for now.

  “What about school?” she asked.

  “I had private tutors.”

  “Of course you did. After all, your family must be pretty rich.”

  “So rich, I’ve never really thought about money. I have no clue how much we have, though, it would be pretty easy to find out.”

  “I suppose money like that becomes unreal after a while.”

  “What about you—how does your little group fund itself?”

  There was no reason not to tell him. “Gambling. Not me. I do not have a good poker face. But Imogen is brilliant.”

  “Really? I was thinking blackmail, or extortion.”

  “In the beginning, we thought about it. But Jake really is a good guy. Don’t get me wrong, he’ll do wha
tever is necessary, but he prefers the good-guy choice if he can make it. And since he got married…well, his wife is the nicest person ever. I’ve seen her rescue spiders from the bath. She keeps him on the straight and narrow.”

  …

  Ethan relaxed back in his chair and listened to her. She spoke of these people with obvious affection, as if they were all one big family. It was so totally different from the Conclave, where no one trusted anyone, and conspiracy was rife. But maybe conspiracy was hard in a group where everyone could read each other’s minds. Lies would become impossible. How would being telepathic affect a group’s dynamics?

  “Do you read each other’s minds?” he asked.

  She frowned, and for a moment, he thought she wouldn’t answer. Then she gave a casual lift of one shoulder. “We can, but most of the time, we don’t. And there are different levels. If I want to speak to someone, or receive from someone, I can without hearing their innermost thoughts. But sometimes we…open to each other and we can see everything.”

  “Why?”

  “Trust, I suppose. But it’s more than that. It’s like feeling you’re part of something bigger. Knowing…more than knowing…that they are there for you. That they will never lie to you. Can never lie to you.” She sighed. “That’s what the government told us we were working for. A world with no more lies.”

  It sounded like a nice idea in theory, but most people he knew would fight against it, tooth and nail. Once the Conclave had gotten involved with the Tribe, that idea was dead in the water. “Is it possible with the human race?”

  “Are you a cynic, Ethan?”

  Hell, yeah. “I guess it comes with the job.”

  She shook her head. “No doubt. And maybe it’s not possible. Or maybe we need to weed out the liars. Or eliminate the gene responsible.”

  This was clearly something she’d thought about, maybe even discussed in a group. He didn’t know what he thought.

  The wine bottle was empty, and he raised his hand and ordered another from the waiter who hurried over. Their main course arrived at the same time, and they were silent while the waiter added extra parmesan and black pepper. In fact, they didn’t speak for the next ten minutes. She ate slowly, but with full concentration, her eyes half closed.

  He watched her for a minute, a smile tugging at his lips, then he picked up his fork and ate his dinner. He couldn’t finish. She did. Truly impressive.