It didn’t make any goddamn sense. Why not be more specific?

And if he knew so damn much about Nathan and had obviously talked to him, why wasn’t he doing more to help than just sending an email? For that matter, how the hell did he have the ability to send an email from here? He’d obviously talked to Nathan. Either he was one of the assholes holding Nathan captive and was helping him on the sly or…or the entire thing was a damn setup.

The more he thought about the situation, the more he didn’t like it. Now the entire KGI organization was on the ground in Afghanistan. In the most dangerous area. No backup. No help from Resnick. No way to guarantee that any of them would get back home.

Donovan glanced over at his brothers. They had no business coming on this mission. They had wives. Garrett had a fiancée. Sam had a daughter. They should have let Donovan come with the rest of KGI and stayed their asses at home.

“Quit looking like you just got a hand job from a drag queen,” Garrett muttered beside him.

“How the fuck do you know what I look like?” Donovan asked irritably. “It’s dark as shit out here.”

“Don’t need to see you to know you have that pinched, tight-ass look on your face. You weren’t coming without us. No way we’d let Nathan rot in some goddamn cave any more than we let Rachel stay in that shithole in Colombia.”

“Yeah, I know,” Donovan said in resignation. “But I don’t have to like it. You and Sam and Ethan have families back home. You’re needed.”

“Nathan is family and so are you. No way we’d leave either of you without as much protection as we can muster, so shut the fuck up and let’s go blow the fuck out of those goatherding motherfuckers who have Nathan.”

Donovan cracked a smile. “Yippee ki-yay.”

“Fuckin’ A.”

“Sarah’s been on you about the language, huh.”

Garrett snarled in response and then muttered a few more F bombs for good measure.

“Yeah, you better get them all out now because when you get back home, no more F words for you.”

“Fuck you, Van. Just fuck you.”

SHEA spread the map out over her bed and studied the highways intently. She chewed absently at her bottom lip as she tried to decide where to go next.

If only she knew more about the people after her and Grace. She didn’t dare go to the police. What was she supposed to tell them? That she and her sister were telepathic and some maniacs were after them but, oh by the way, I don’t know who they are.

For all she knew, it could be the government. It could be the police or the FBI or the CIA or whoever the hell would be interested in Grace’s powers.

What she did know was that she wasn’t going to allow them to take her or Grace and she damn sure wasn’t going to let them use her to get to Grace.

A foreign country sounded nice if she could get out of the United States undetected. She had a passport, but of course, it was in her real name and going to an airport and getting on a plane was like holding up a neon sign that said, “Here I am! Come get me!”

She shook her head in disgust. The only thing she could do was keep moving, at least for now. Until…until when? Without a plan. Without someone to help her, how was she ever going to feel safe again? Whom could she trust?

The million-dollar question. The short answer was no one.

She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment to collect her thoughts. She stared at the map again and mentally traced the path she’d traveled for the last year. The longest she’d stayed in one place was a couple of months.

At first she and Grace had run together, but Shea had quickly surmised that the only smart thing to do was split up. They were too noticeable as a pair. Grace drew enough attention on her own. The contrast between the two sisters was striking. Shea was petite, blond, paler skinned. Grace was taller, darker skinned with long raven hair.

The hardest part had been convincing Grace that not only did they need to split up, but that it was imperative that they not know where the other was at any time.

Grace had been infuriated, much like Nathan had been, that Shea sought to protect her. In the end, Shea had forgone trying to make Grace see the logic behind Shea’s idea and had simply taken off.

It had hurt her to leave her sister, but she knew that to keep both of them safe, it had to be this way.

You do realize that thinking of me so much is just like talking to me.

Grace’s amused voice slid through Shea’s mind, bringing a smile to Shea’s lips.

Are you all right, Shea? I sense that some heavy shit has gone down with you, but you’re working hard to keep me from seeing what you’ve been up to. Why is that? Are you in trouble?

Grace, I’m fine. You would know if I wasn’t.

Grace snorted. I do know and I know that everything is not fine. What the hell is going on with you? Why are you talking to other people?

Let it go. I’m okay. Getting ready to move again.

You just moved.

How the hell do you know that?

While you’re working so hard not to see or hear me, I can read you easily, or at least what you aren’t closely guarding. What happened in Colorado? Why did you leave Kansas?

Fuck.

I heard that.

I had a narrow miss in Kansas and I don’t want to stay in any one place for a while. It made me jumpy.

Grace swore. Damn it, Shea. Enough of this being apart bullshit. We’re safer together. Why can’t you get it through your head that I don’t need you to protect me? I’m bigger and stronger than you are. Could you even kill someone if you had to?

Yes.

Grace went silent as the forceful word slipped from Shea’s mind into Grace’s.

Hell yeah, she could kill someone. Maybe she’d been known as the sweet younger sister. The baby. The coddled one in the family.

That was all in the past. Seeing your parents murdered and fearing for your sister’s safety had a way of hardening even the softest heart. She’d changed a lot in the last year. She’d learned to protect herself, and she had no compunction about doing whatever was necessary to make sure nothing happened to her or to Grace.

I don’t like what this has done to you, Shea.

The sadness in Grace’s voice left a shadow in Shea’s mind.

You are all I have left, Grace. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe. I’ve learned a lot in this past year. I might surprise you in the butt-kicking department now.

Grace laughed but it was strained and sad. Just don’t be so intent on saving the world that you fuck up and get yourself caught. Don’t think for even a minute I won’t do everything I can to keep you safe.

I won’t. Be careful, Grace. I love you.

I love you too, sis. Be safe. While you’re out trying to save me and whoever else you’re suffering for, I’m doing some investigating into the assholes who killed Mom and Dad.

Fear bolted through Shea’s chest, squeezing until she was breathless. Don’t. Grace, you have to be careful. We have no idea what they’re capable of. What if it’s some secret government agency?

You’ve been watching too many over-the-top television thrillers. I suspect this is some private organization, one of those crazy-ass cult-type things. If it was the government, don’t you think we would have been found by now? They’re being way too careful, like they’re as worried about being caught as we are.

Damn it, Grace, just leave it alone. Stay low.

Until when? You want to run forever? When are we going to come up with a solution? Your solution is to run and keep me safe by refusing contact, fearing you’ll know where I am and the information can be tortured out of you. Well, fuck that. We aren’t doing anything to solve the problem. We’re running like two sissies and waiting. For what? For Superman to swoop down and save us? How can we solve anything if we don’t know who is after us? When we know who, then we’ll know who we can and can’t trust.

Shea blew out her breath in frustration. I get it, okay? But here’s what you’re not considering. Say you find out it’s some private off-their-rocker group who know what we are and what we can do and they want us for their own nefarious purposes. So you figure this out and go to the police or the government or whoever.

What’s to stop them from deciding they want to exploit you? You could very well be trading one enemy for another, and if it is some private half-ass group who’s afraid of discovery, then good. That gives us an advantage. But if we go to the authorities and they decide they want to use us, what the hell do we do then?

Grace sighed. Damn it, I hate when you start making sense. That’s supposed to be my job as the older sister. Still, it doesn’t hurt to learn as much as we can about these assholes. We have to trust someone at some point, right? Or do we plan to spend the rest of our lives running?

Shea closed her eyes. I hope not. We’ll figure something out.

Grace touched Shea’s cheek and then pulled her into a fierce hug. We’ll beat this, Shea.

For once it was Grace offering comfort and encouragement.

CHAPTER 7

THERE was something to be said for big cities, but they still made her nervous. After ditching her car after the near miss in Kansas City, she’d decided to go with something a little more rugged. Just in case. Four-wheel drive. Something that could handle rough terrain if it came to that.

She’d really wanted to stay in Colorado, lose herself in some remote mountain area, but if she was tracked there, her escape possibilities were slim. And she knew little to nothing about roughing it. Her idea of camping was a nice hotel with room service and a spa.

Until Nathan was rescued and no longer needed her, she absolutely had to keep to areas that swallowed people up. Afterward, she could hopefully find a place that was quiet, big enough that she wouldn’t garner too many questions but small enough that she would know if her pursuers showed up.

And yeah, she’d prefer a place with an actual roof, working utilities and a bathroom so she wasn’t forced to do her thing behind a bush.

She’d start in California. Work her way up the coast, closer to where it all began. Maybe Grace was right in that they needed more information. If she could eventually get back to her parents’ house undetected, she could access the surveillance footage from when her parents were killed. Maybe by then it wouldn’t hurt quite so much. Maybe the distance would enable her to view the act with a critical eye.

She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut at the idea of ever being able to be that analytical when it came to the monsters who’d killed her family.

That would come later. For now she had to concentrate on remaining safe and undetected.

First she checked into a dive motel, giving a fake name and a story about her purse being stolen with all her ID. The clerk hadn’t cared about anything other than her ability to pay, and when she produced cash, he gave her a key without question.

The next item on her agenda was to walk into a salon and undergo a radical change in her appearance. The hairdresser had been dubious about her decision to dye her honey blond hair dark brown, but she’d shrugged and done the job.

It wasn’t the first time Shea had dyed her hair. She’d changed her appearance every few months. Since she’d been back to blond in her last close call, she chose dark and she’d switch to the brown-colored contacts.

In other circumstances, it would have amused her that over the last year she’d been a redhead, a blonde, several shades of brunette, and her eyes had been a range of green, blue and brown.

She’d go back to blond the next time she moved. The important part was that whenever she left an area, that same woman didn’t appear somewhere else.

Back at her hotel, she took the handgun out of her bag and placed it on the nightstand so it would be within easy reach. The rest of her things she left packed in case she needed to make a fast getaway.

She was starving, but she was more exhausted. She sank onto the bed, grimaced at the hard lumpy mattress and closed her eyes.

It was automatic to reach for Nathan. She’d checked on him frequently as she made the drive to Southern California. Part of her fatigue was from maintaining such constant contact.

To her surprise, he was alert, intensely so. Rigid, crouched in his cell, rage so prevalent that it rolled through her like fire.

This time there wasn’t a hesitation. He’d grown used to sensing her as soon as she brushed against his mind. He no longer questioned her presence.

They’re working Swanson over, goddamn it.

Fury hit her like a tornado. Nathan boiled with it. Helpless fury. He clenched and unclenched his hands, and hatred clawed at Shea until she flinched from the negative wash that poured from him.

She did the only thing she felt capable of doing. She wrapped herself around him and held on, offering him whatever comfort she could.

You’ll be free soon. Believe that, Nathan. Swanson too.

Damn right. I swear to God, I’ll get him out.

She sensed strength in him that hadn’t been there before. Renewed determination. An iron will that was nearly tangible. Thank God. He was ready to fight. He was refusing to give up.