by Mary Wine
“That’s a big problem, gentlemen,” General Slynn stated from the doorway. Garrick cut the man a salute along with the doctors. Slynn returned it with a razor-sharp motion. “What are the options?”
“Memory loss is tricky,” one of the white-coated physicians offered. “A gray area as far as treatment goes.”
“We need solutions, not excuses,” Garrick interrupted. Frustration was cutting him to shreds. It was Devon and yet it wasn’t.
“We knew very little about how his psychic abilities worked. This trauma could impact those abilities permanently.”
“What treatment do you prescribe, gentlemen?” the general demanded. “I’m not about to toss in the towel when it looks like I’ve had one of my psychics returned from the grave.”
“I suggest you return him to his companion and let him finish the path he was on.” It was a different doctor that spoke.
The one on the end shook his head, clearly disagreeing. “We have limited data to support that treatment and she is a civilian. A potential security risk.”
“They’ve been together for three days. She is fully aware of his psychic abilities, almost more so than he is,” the doctor argued with his colleagues. “Devon Ross had enough memory surfacing to see him tracking his psychic colleague to her home. I suggest you allow him to continue. Let his body heal the way it is trying to. There is something drawing him to Benton.”
“His fellow Operative,” Garrick said, slicing through the doctor’s argument. “There is no further reason to place him at risk.”
“We can’t assume that was the only reason. Wasn’t his wife found near that location?”
Garrick stiffened. “She was. In Preston.”
The doctor lifted a finger. “We need to let his brain heal the way it was trying to.”
“I’m not going to agree to dumping him back on the road.”
The doctor paused for a moment. “His fellow Operative has a secure location. Take him there and see what he does.”
“What if he’s been tampered with?” the older doctor argued. “That plan could place two of our psychics at risk. Potentially even a third since the Operative in question is pregnant and her first child inherited her abilities.”
“There hasn’t been time for brain washing.”
“Unless there is a new process—”
“Thank you, gentlemen. That will be all.”
The doctors looked at the general and slowly saluted before leaving the room. Slynn drew in a deep breath before tearing his gaze off Devon. “He’s your Operative. Go in there and see what happens.”
Garrick cut the general a salute and walked toward his Operative. But he pulled his name tag off and opened his shirt before shrugging out of it too so that the patch with his name wouldn’t be visible. The black tee-shirt he had on beneath it was informal but would suit the situation.
Devon hated the room.
It was actually a source of curiosity because he hadn’t realized he disliked enclosed rooms. He stared at the door because he felt people staring at him. There was a whisper of their conversations teasing his senses but nothing he could gain a solid sense of.
Not like he did with Kalin.
His frustration morphed into something far more intense.
In short, he was pissed.
Someone rapped on the door, a victim of bad timing because Devon was done being polite.
“You’d better be here to tell me where Kalin is.”
The man who came through the door wasn’t another doctor. Devon knew it instantly. Some sort of recognition distracted him from his rage, long enough for the man to close the door behind him.
“Who are you?”
The man’s features didn’t change, but Devon felt the sting of emotion coming from him. It was sharp and deep, betraying the other man.
“You know me,” Devon informed him.
“Do I?”
Whoever he was, he wasn’t going to hand Devon anything. His face remained unreadable as Devon stretched out his senses to discover the truth of who he was. This time, he could feel it, but the details still refused to come into focus. Which left him with the only information he knew for certain.
“Where’s Kalin?”
“Secure.”
That short, clipped response gave Devon more reassurance than he’d felt in days. It was familiar too, feeling like something he’d encountered before.
“You took your shirt off so I wouldn’t see the name patch.”
The man crossed his arms over his chest. “Were you counting on that?”
Devon gripped the edges of the exam table he was leaning against. “You’re testing me.”
The man gave a curt nod.
It should have pissed him off. Instead, he felt the corners of his lips twitching, the challenge taking on a friendly edge that stunned him.
This was a man he’d enjoyed pitting himself against.
“What are you recalling?”
The tone was still clipped and unrevealing, but the fact that he’d slipped up and asked had betrayed his own frustration. Devon locked gazes with him.
“I know we used to pit ourselves against each other. I know you but I can’t recall your name to save my life.”
“How about to save Kalin’s?”
Devon was away from the exam table before he realized he intended to respond physically. His unknown company jerked back, surprised by Devon’s sudden aggressive motion. The man was in a perfect fighting stance, his hands up and his eyes focused.
Devon pulled himself back. “You would never hurt her or any woman, unless they forced your hand.” Once again, he felt the touch of memories. Shared experiences that were twisted into a ball and remaining out of focus. “Heather was afraid of you.”
His unreadable companion lost his composure. His stony expression cracked with relief, but he covered it quickly. “Who was Heather?”
Devon leaned back against the exam table again. “You tell me. I’ve spent the last few days running from a whole lot of military sort of guys who seem to think I’m something special.”
“Are you?”
Devon shook his head. “I know you.” He pegged the man with a hard look. “And I know I’m not telling you shit until you prove who you are.”
The man studied him, trying to wait Devon out, but Devon set his jaw and refused to budge.
“Heather was your wife, and I scared the hell out of her. Like you did.”
“You were there the night I married her.”
The man stiffened. “I was one of two witnesses. You tell me who the other one was.”
Devon felt the memory wash through him. Heather’s face was crystal clear. The distrust in her eyes still sharp enough to wound him. Fear he’d tried to soothe. He’d been arrogant enough to believe he could shelter her, protect her from her own demons. The problem was, in her eyes he was one of them. She’d loved him but never trusted him.
“Grace was there.”
And her presence hadn’t reassured his bride at all. Grace was everything Heather feared about the military element. Heather had seen Grace as a woman stripped of her femininity.
He closed his eyes, the memory shifting into focus at last. But what it showed him was the horror of her death. Devon didn’t recoil from it. Desperation made him watch as the last few hours of Heather’s life played across his mind. All that was left was a sense of satisfaction that didn’t make any sense to him. The fire had left him feeling like he’d accomplished something. Satisfied? About what?
“I left you behind when I went after her.”
Bitterness filled his mouth, but what surfaced in his mind wasn’t his petrified bride. It was the determined stare of the nurse that had stripped him and pressed her bare skin against his to save his life.
“I think I actually like you, but I swear, if you let anythi
ng happen to Kalin…” Devon fixed his gaze on the man watching him. “I’m going to kill you.”
Surprise flickered in the man’s eyes before he turned and pressed his hand against the security scan pad set into the wall. It buzzed and released the lock on the door. The two armed men on duty leveled their weapons on him as the door opened.
Devon still felt the urge to try them. They wouldn’t kill him, he felt sure of that. What kept him gripping the edges of the exam table was the fact that he’d only recently been released from shackles. Getting himself cuffed again wouldn’t help him find Kalin when the opportunity presented itself.
And it would, because he was going to make sure he was watching for it.
“Time to wake up.”
Kalin opened her eyes, blinking as she realized she’d fallen asleep. She lifted her head off the smooth table she was seated in front of and the chains of her shackles rattled. The long, thin silver chains were hooked into a solid bar set into the table top. The side of her face felt smashed from the hard surface, but she wasn’t going to whine about it.
“I have some questions for you, Ms. Smith.”
Kalin studied the man watching her. He was in prime condition like the majority of the people she’d seen since they’d almost run Grace over. That had been hours and hours ago. She’d been transported by helicopter to some sort of military base. Three interrogations later, and she’d been left alone long enough for exhaustion to catch up with her.
This newest arrival was set apart because he wore only a black tee-shirt instead of a uniform top. The guy was hiding his name from her and the look on his face promised her another interview with an arrogant, condescending ass.
“I need to use a bathroom.”
Normally, she would have been humiliated to voice such a personal need, but her temper was sizzling just enough to make her willing to try and toss some guilt on the guy.
“Since I’ve been chained here for the better part of a night, my blood sugar is bottomed out too.”
“Guess you’d better answer my questions quickly.” He pulled the chair out on the other side of the table and sat down, smug confidence edging his features.
“What a prince.”
He raised one dark eyebrow. “Am I offensive?”
Kalin sat back, pulling her hands toward her out of habit, but the shackles stopped her, keeping her hands on the table.
“As strange as it sounds, I’m feeling pretty good.” She tapped the table top with a fingernail. “You’re a step up from Gold Tooth and his buddies. What’s the threat of wetting myself compared to being forced to overdose?”
A glimmer of satisfaction lit his dark eyes for a moment. Just a hint of his approval that also proved he’d read the report from the first guy who had grilled her.
“Your traveling companion—”
“You mean Devon Ross,” she corrected and leaned forward. “Let’s cut the bullshit. You’ve heard everything I already told your buddies and I wasn’t kidding about needing to empty my bladder. Devon Ross washed down a river and landed in my life like I told the other guy. He went north looking for Grace and he found her. Now if it’s not too much trouble, unlock me so I can go pee.”
The no-nonsense side of her personality was on full display. Nurses didn’t have time for modesty, at least not in the emergency room.
Whoever he was, he was used to being in command. There was a flare of pride in his eyes at the tone she used, and he dug into one of his pants pockets and withdrew a small key. He fitted it into the metal cuff around her wrist and opened it. The second one took only moments before opening.
“On the right. Take a wrong turn and you will regret it.”
She refused to thank him for the directions. Okay, her grandparents would disapprove, but she wasn’t going to be grateful for being allowed bathroom privileges.
But she was relieved.
The bathroom was nondescript. White tile and fixtures. The scent of bleach lingered and there wasn’t a single eyelash anywhere on the vanity. Kalin picked a few leaves out of her hair and tried to smooth the strands back into some semblance of order with her fingers.
“You’re Devon’s friend.”
Another woman pushed in the door and made her way to the vanity to apply lipstick. Kalin blinked, feeling the familiar sensation of having someone sifting through her thoughts.
She had to be imagining it.
“Devon Ross. I heard him talking about you.” The woman rolled her lips before replacing the cap on her lipstick. She turned and locked gazes with Kalin. The contact was jarring but somewhat familiar after being in Devon’s company. The woman narrowed her light-green eyes, her pupils dilating.
“So are you some sort of test?” Kalin asked. “Another psychic sent in to see what I know?”
The woman blinked and shrugged. “Why are you talking about psychics?”
“Because you’re sifting through my thoughts,” Kalin informed her. “You’re just as used to being able to do it without being noticed as Devon is. But I notice. It made for a very interesting first few days together.”
“I’ll bet.” The woman locked stares with her again. “You do notice and you answer. You have ability,” she stated slowly. “Interesting.”
“It’s been that,” Kalin agreed, washing up to her forearms and cringing at the smell coming from her skin. What she wouldn’t do for a shower.
The woman grinned. “Come on, I’ll show you where the showers are.”
“But forget about an introduction?” It really wasn’t the wisest thing to say. Devon’s warning rose from her memory. “Don’t learn things about me.”
But she just couldn’t conquer the urge to unearth facts.
The woman surprised her by smiling. “How about a shower and clean clothing as a peace offering? The guys will let you stink without a second thought, they can’t connect with a girl’s need to feel clean. I can. As for my name, I don’t make the rules on that.”
There was an edge of frustration in her tone, but that didn’t change the unwavering position she’d adopted.
“Deal.” Because there was no way Kalin was going to turn down a hot shower and clean underwear.
Garrick faced off with Slynn and the doctors once more. But this time, Major Jason Jacobs had joined the conversation. Psychic Operative Grace Campbell was in the corner, looking like she was contemplating how to kill her commanding officer. Jason positioned himself between her and the door.
“Devon made contact with your Operative, Jacobs. She’s our best bet for unlocking his memory,” General Slynn informed them all. “That’s why you’re both here. There are a few doctors who believe Devon should be allowed to follow through with the path he was on when your team encountered him.”
“A path that leads to me,” Grace spoke up. “He linked with me several days ago. That man is Devon Ross, I am certain.”
“I’ll wait for the DNA test this time around,” the general said. “Because I’m not interested in burying the wrong Operative again. If you’re willing, I’d like to see if you can help him shake off this memory loss.”
“Unless he’s been impacted,” Jacobs countered. “In which case, this situation has the potential to become an even greater loss when he takes out my Operative.”
“I may be your Operative, but right now we’re not working, so I am going to see my friend,” Grace insisted.
“That will expose you.”
“I disagree,” she argued with her C.O. Her head didn’t even reach the man’s shoulder, which made it rather comical, but there wasn’t a hint of weakness in her petite frame.
“I want to know why he’s reaching out to you, Grace,” Jacobs demanded. “What sets you apart from the other people in his life? It stands to reason that Devon would feel just as strong a connection with Garrick as you. But he doesn’t remember his name.”
“He knows me…in some fashion…” Garrick spoke up, obviously frustrated.
“He is connecting with me on a deeper level,” Grace explained. “I’m his own kind. I suppose you might even call it family. That’s why he’s reaching out to me.”
“That doesn’t mean he hasn’t been tampered with,” Major Jason Jacobs stated firmly. “Sir, I think my Operative should be kept separated from Devon Ross until he is proved fit for duty.”
“Your Operative might be the only key we have to unlocking Devon’s memory loss,” Garrick countered.
“That’s putting her at risk,” Jacobs argued. “Something I can’t agree with.”
“Would it help if I just left the room?” Grace asked from the corner she was pinned in.
“Stay put, Grace,” Jacobs ordered her. “The guilt trip won’t blind me to the fact that you just want out of this room while I’m distracted. He could be programed to kill you.”
“I’m not worth anything dead.”
Jacobs opened his mouth but shut it as her words sank in. It was a valid comment.
“I will concede the situation is suspicious, but logic dictates that any programing would be to have Devon obtain me,” Grace continued. “That cannot happen here.”
“A good point,” General Slynn agreed. “But I agree with Major Jacobs that it exposes you to risk.”
Grace looked across the medical center toward Devon. She narrowed her eyes and he stiffened before turning around to stare at her despite the one-way glass between them. He reached out, flattening his hand on the glass as Grace felt the connection grow stronger, deeper.
“Forget the DNA tests,” General Slynn said. “I think it’s safe to say it’s impossible to fool another one of our psychics when it comes to identity.”
“It’s Devon all right.” Another woman joined the conversation from a second doorway. Sonya Roberts wore a pink undershirt in defiance of her fatigues-clad companions. The edge was peeking through the buttons of her uniform top. “And he’s telling you the truth. He doesn’t remember who he is. The civilian is also checking out. Interesting note, she knows when someone is sifting through her thoughts. I’d say Devon has been connecting with her from the moment they met. She’s definitely an empath.”