by Maya Banks
How could she ever hope to achieve such a thing when she was doomed to always looking over her shoulder? She had to protect Grace. She had to protect herself and she couldn’t ask someone else to bear those same burdens.
Nathan had already given more than any man should ever be asked to give. For his country. His family. Himself even. He needed the comfort and support of his family. And while she desperately needed his help now—she had no choice but to ask it of him—she could never hope to have any sort of a future with him when such a thing would place him in constant danger.
She was a realist. Yes, the idea saddened her. She mourned for what might have been, but she wasn’t going to allow herself to dwell on it because it brought her nothing but sadness.
Nathan would always be a part of her—the best part aside from Grace. But some things just weren’t possible or even plausible. For her, a normal relationship was one of those things.
A year ago, she wouldn’t have imagined such a pragmatic attitude. She was a romantic. What woman wasn’t at her very heart? She wanted the same things other women wanted. Love. A husband. Children eventually. Things to fill her life and complete her.
She’d spent years in denial over her gift. Never once had she imagined that it could interfere with having a normal existence. It was naïve of her. She could admit that. But who ever considered that violence would suddenly be thrust into their life, forever changing the course of it?
Maybe it was irresponsible of her, never considering the repercussions of having telepathic abilities. But in her scope, her gift wasn’t world changing. It wasn’t even some great power with the ability to change the world. Yeah, she could talk to people in their mind. So what?
Now she was facing the consequences of such denial. Her parents had paid the cost and so had Grace.
She couldn’t be stupid any longer. And she absolutely had to find a way to take control of her life. She refused to spend the rest of her life running from some faceless, nameless enemy.
She hadn’t wanted Grace to risk investigating, but she also realized that her sister was the smart one. She was being proactive because she wanted her life back. Shea had spent the last year running, hiding, just trying to survive and keep her sister safe. It was time to change all that.
Shea raised her gaze to Nathan’s profile again. She had help now. She wasn’t alone. Nathan had resources she couldn’t even begin to imagine. No, she didn’t know whom she could trust—or if she should trust anyone. But she did trust Nathan, and by proxy, she’d trust whomever he chose to place his trust in.
What other choice did she have?
CHAPTER 20
“TELL me more about your childhood. How did you and Grace hide your abilities from your friends? People at school?”
Shea started in surprise. She’d long since directed her stare out the window at the passing scenery. Her excitement and dread had grown as they drew closer to the house she hadn’t been back to since she and Grace had fled a year ago.
“We just didn’t use them,” she said simply. “Our parents drummed into us from as early as I have memory that we had to keep our secrets. No one outside our family was to ever know.”
Nathan frowned. “That shows remarkable restraint. Kids talk to their friends. Let things slip. Let’s face it, children aren’t very secretive.”
Shea shrugged. “We didn’t have friends. We were homeschooled. Our parents were super careful about who we were exposed to. We were never allowed to have other kids over. At the time, it all seemed so normal. It was our existence. It wasn’t until later that I looked back and realized it was like living in a survivalist family. Deep paranoia. Suspicious of everyone. No social life. One of the biggest fights I had with my parents was when I wanted to go away to college. I thought my father was going to lock me in the basement.”
Nathan’s frown deepened and Shea held her hand up. “I know what you’re thinking. My parents weren’t assholes. To someone else they absolutely would sound like the worst parents ever. They were loving. We had a good childhood. Was it a normal childhood? Well, no, but they did the best they could.”
She looked down at her hands as sadness crept through her chest. “Grace and I never understood. We thought they were too overprotective until the day they were killed. Then we understood that everything they’d done over the years had been absolutely necessary. They died protecting us.”
He reached over to catch her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He waited a moment as though to allow her to gather her emotions and then he pressed on.
“Were your parents ever approached before? Did anyone show up at your house? Anything strange happen or do you ever remember them being afraid, more than usual, I mean?”
“We moved frequently. There was one time in particular, we’d only just moved into a new house in a new state. We’d been there maybe six months? My parents got a phone call and they were so agitated. They tried to hide it from me and Grace, but we could hear them arguing in their bedroom. My mom especially was a mess. She ordered me and Grace not to leave the house, even to go into the yard, and by that weekend, we’d packed and left.”
“You didn’t hear why?”
Shea shook her head. “The official story was that Dad got a better job somewhere else, but we knew that wasn’t true because they didn’t even act like they knew where we were going. Always before when we’d moved, Dad had gone ahead, found us a place and we moved from house to house. This time, we checked into hotels and we just ended up on the Oregon coast. I don’t think it was planned. I think they’d reached the end of their resources or maybe they thought they’d outrun whatever it was that spooked them.”
“How old were you then?”
“I was sixteen. Grace was seventeen. They told us that we had to change our names, at least on paper. They wanted us so used to using those new identities that they wouldn’t allow us to use our real names even in the house with each other.”
“And you didn’t question this?”
His incredulous tone annoyed her.
“Of course we did. We were teenagers. We weren’t stupid little girls anymore who did without questioning. They couldn’t very well feed us a line of bullshit anymore. So they told us the truth. They said that there were people who wanted to exploit my and Grace’s abilities, but Grace’s in particular. My dad told me it was important to protect Grace because she was more fragile. Her ability could kill her.
“We moved into a bigger house on the coast. A fortress really. It had a panic room with an underground escape route that led away from the house. My father made us practice. He timed our escapes. He drilled us over and over on what we were supposed to do if the worst happened. He just never went into what the ‘worst’ was, but we found that out the day they were killed.”
“Where the hell did your parents get the money for a setup like that?” Nathan asked.
“That part I don’t know,” Shea replied. “Before we’d always been on our own. I mean they’d have to work odd jobs, whatever they could find. My mother sewed, did crafts, had a vegetable garden. Money was always tight. When we moved here, suddenly we had this big, secure house. Money wasn’t an issue because neither of them worked. It came from somewhere but Grace and I never knew where. Maybe a part of me didn’t want to know because then I could keep on pretending I had a normal life and we weren’t in any sort of danger.
“I wanted to move out and go to college and I thought my mom was going to have a heart attack over it. She completely freaked. She got so upset that I dropped the subject and continued to live with them. Grace and I took online courses. Eventually we started to get out more in the community, which gave my parents no end to grief, but maybe they realized they had to grant us some freedoms or we’d just move out, and they feared that more than anything.
“Dating was an experience. My dad ran background checks on everyone Grace and I even talked to. He didn’t like us to go anywhere by ourselves. He always taught me and Grace to stick together no ma
tter what. So you can imagine that made having a sex life difficult.”
Nathan scowled. “I’d rather not hear about your sex life.”
Shea laughed. “There wasn’t much of one. Certainly no grand romances. I don’t even think Grace gave it much effort. Certainly not as much as I did. I wanted…I wanted normalcy. I wanted to feel like I was just like any other woman out there.”
“I’ll be more than happy to provide you with your sex life,” Nathan muttered. “And you’re not just like every other woman out there. You’re special. And I don’t mean because of your goddamn abilities.”
This time her smile went soul deep as she looked at how disgruntled—and uncomfortable—he was saying those words.
“Maybe normal is overrated,” she said softly.
“Bet your ass it is. The two of us will never be ‘normal,’ and I’m okay with that.”
She leaned over to kiss his cheek and then laid her head on his shoulder. “What are we going to do, Nathan?”
She said nothing more, because to voice her doubts, all the thoughts she’d already battled, was to make them all the more real, and for just a moment she didn’t want to think of a future—an impossible future—she couldn’t have.
“We fight. We do whatever we have to do to keep you—and Grace—safe.”
It comforted her that he was so resolute and that he now included Grace in his vow to protect. But he was just one man. A man already damaged by fighting. And this was not his fight. She’d drawn him into it when she’d called for him. No, even before, when she’d first reached out to a man whose need was greater than her own.
Many would say—he would say—that he owed her. But Shea hadn’t helped him expecting anything in return. She’d helped him because she couldn’t do anything else. And yet she needed him. He was the only person she would allow herself to trust.
She must have dozed because she awoke when he gently nudged her with his shoulder.
“We’re approaching Lincoln City. How much farther north is it?”
She sat up, wiping the fuzz from her eyes, and then studied the roadway in front of them.
“Not far. Just a few miles.”
“Okay, I don’t want to just drive in, especially since we have no way of knowing what we’re dealing with. Do you remember where the tunnel from the panic room comes out?”
Her chest tightened, constricting her airway. Her throat seemed to close off and she willed herself not to freak out.
Deep breaths, Shea. Don’t lose it now.
She sucked in another breath and tried to keep her response calm and focused so Nathan wouldn’t know she was about to come apart.
“Yes, I remember it. It should still be accessible, but who knows what’s been done to the house and the panic room? The house has solar panels and the security system is powered that way. My father was determined that something as simple as a power outage would never put us in danger or trap us.”
“If Grace was just there, then at least part of the house is still intact,” Nathan said quietly.
After giving him directions, she closed her eyes and tried to reach out to her sister just like she’d done ever since they’d last lost contact.
Grace. Please answer me. Talk to me. We’re here. Where are you? You have to tell me. We can help you.
The result was the same as it had been over the last several hours. Dead silence.
She bit the inside of her cheek to control the tears because the very last thing Nathan needed was an overwrought, distraught female to contend with.
Nathan touched her cheek. Just a warm, gentle brush, his fingers idly caressing down to the line of her jaw.
“We’ll find her, baby. You wouldn’t talk to her because you wanted to keep her safe. Have you ever considered she’s doing the same thing for you?”
She glanced over and gave him a watery smile. “Probably. It doesn’t mean I’m not pissed at her for refusing to talk to me.”
He shook his head. “You do so much to protect others and then are so vehement that they not do the same for you. Get used to it. Your days of sacrificing everything are over.”
She jerked her gaze back to the road. “There, just ahead. Take the turnoff to the right, away from the coastline.”
They pulled onto a narrow dirt road that quickly tapered to what looked like an old ATV trail.
“Pull up so we aren’t seen. We’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”
Nathan maneuvered off the trail but then turned the jeep around and backed farther into the woods so they’d have a fast exit if they needed it.
He turned off the engine but put his hand over Shea’s leg when she would have opened her door.
“Not so fast. We need to be clear on a few things first.”
He shoved a clip into a Glock and handed it to Shea. Then he reached into the back for another handgun and an assault rifle. He rummaged in his bag for a moment and then produced several extra clips for the guns. He handed two to Shea and she shoved them into her pocket.
Then he turned to face her. “This is going to be a quick in and out. We go in, see what there is to see and then we’re getting out. Stay behind me at all times unless I tell you differently. If I tell you to shoot, start shooting. If I tell you to run, you get your ass out no matter what I’m doing. Understand?”
She nodded, swallowing back her nervousness.
“If for any reason we get separated, you get back to the jeep and haul ass.”
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“My brothers’ numbers are in there. Labeled Sam, Garrett, Donovan and Joe. You’ll be able to reach at least one of them. If things go bad, do not wait around for me. You run and you keep running and you call my brothers and tell them what’s gone down.”
“I got it.”
Nathan nodded and then opened his door. “Okay, let’s do this.”
CHAPTER 21
SHEA led Nathan through the trees and into a particularly dense section of vegetation. She kicked aside a piece of camouflage netting to reveal the cap that sealed the tunnel entrance. Nathan handed her his rifle before squatting down to pry open the lid. He stared into the darkness for a moment before returning his gaze to Shea.
“I’m going first and then I’ll call up for you.”
He hopped over the side, his feet finding the rungs of the ladder and then he rapidly descended, his head disappearing from view.
A moment later he called softly up to her and she lowered his rifle. She tucked the pistol into her waistband and then went down into the tunnel after him.
When she reached the bottom rung, he wrapped his hands around her waist and lowered her to the concrete floor.
“Stay close,” he murmured.
The pathway was illuminated by dim running lights on the left and right. The air was stale and musty as if the tunnel hadn’t been used for some time. Her gaze was riveted to Nathan’s back and her foot collided with an object on the floor, pitching her forward.
She bumped into his back and he came up short, reaching a hand back to steady her.
“You okay?”
She frowned and looked down at the offending object to see it was a small, leather-bound book. She squatted to pick it up and leaned it toward the light.
Her pulse ratcheted up when she opened it to the first page. It was her mother’s handwriting. The shock of seeing the familiar script wrenched her heart. She rapidly flipped through the other pages and realized it was her mother’s journal. Shea hadn’t known she’d kept one.
Nathan bent down to look over her shoulder. “What is it?”
“My mother’s journal,” Shea replied. “I’m unsure of how it got here. I didn’t even know she kept one.”
How had it gotten here? Unease prickled up Shea’s spine. It seemed likely now that this was the way Grace had come just recently. Had she dropped it? Had she been pursued and caught? Had she left it for Shea to find?
She rose and shoved the small volum
e in the front waistband of her jeans so that it was crammed against her belly. Then she adjusted her grip on the pistol and nodded at Nathan. “Let’s go. I’ll look at it later.”
They continued down the long corridor until they reached the door leading into the panic room.
Nathan examined the key pad and then turned back to Shea. “Do you have the code?”
She stepped forward and punched in a series of numbers. “It’s 3272*4824. Just in case you need it and I’m not here to do it.”
He frowned at that statement, but it would be pretty damn stupid not to plan for the worst.
The lock snicked and Shea started to push the door open, but Nathan stuck his arm out and shoved her behind him. He entered the room, rifle up, his gaze rapidly scanning the interior.
He motioned for her in a quick, impatient gesture. Feeling like a complete fraud and not at all sure of this stealth mumbo jumbo, she raised her gun and followed Nathan in. She just hoped to hell no one jumped out at them, because she couldn’t be entirely sure what would happen.
She was a good shot. At the range. Which was entirely different from shooting at an actual person when under enormous stress. A paper target posed no threat. You could take all bloody day to aim. You could breathe normally. No stress. Just point and shoot.
Not so much here.
Everything was still online and working. There were video monitors mounted along one wall with a view of each room in the house as well as the front, back and side views of the exterior. What Shea saw made her gasp.
She walked forward, her gaze riveted to the sheer destruction evident on the monitors.
“My God,” she whispered.
Nathan studied the monitors with her, his gaze moving over each one as if searching for any threat.
The living room—all of the rooms—were a mess. Nothing had been left untouched or undamaged. The furniture was destroyed. Picture frames lay broken on the floor. Vases, artwork, dead plants, her mother’s beloved wildlife figurines and the glass curio cabinet where they’d been housed were all in pieces, scattered through the room.