She stared at him.She’s sensitive, so she probably felt that.Goddammit, use some of that goddamn control you’re famous for.He clamped down on himself.Pointed at the tray.“More coffee?”
She approached him cautiously.“I guess,” she said, and looked at the pastries as if she couldn’t remember what they were for.Her face changed slightly.He tried to read it, failed.“You look angry.”She finally settled down in the chair across from his, perching unsteadily.
“I wish I could have saved your father, that’s all.”
She studied his face intently for a long time.“I believe you.”A short, sharp nod.“Let’s get this over with, okay?”
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
The coffee boiled uneasilyin Rowan’s stomach as she followed Delgado.The house was pretty, she supposed, furnished in a kind of impersonal pseudo-Victorian style.There were some silk plants, but nothing living, and the entire place felt cold and unlived-in despite the overstuffed chairs and attempts at softening with artful drapes and dim light.
In the middle of this, he was the only halfway familiar thing, and oddly enough, it was comforting to have him stalking down the hall in before her, his broad shoulders held absolutely straight and his dark hair precise and neat.Rowan took a deep breath and tried to square her own shoulders.
She was barefoot, her arm hurt, and even though she had probably slept for hours she was still exhausted.She lagged behind, until he looked back over his shoulder and stopped.“Sorry.I forgot, you must be tired.”
“I feel like I’m walking through syrup.”She caught up with him and paused to catch her breath.“This is so strange.”
“It takes a while to get used to.”He glanced at the carpet, as if reminding himself where he was.“When I got to my first Society safehouse, I couldn’t grasp the freedom bit.I thought I had to ask permission to do anything.It took me a long time to figure out I could do what I wanted and I wouldn’t be sent in for punishment.”
“Punishment?”That doesn’t sound good.
“They don’t do that here.”His jaw set and his eyes glittered.
“Where were you before?”She took a deep breath and looked up at him.He still wasn’t looking at her.Instead, he was examining some spot over her shoulder with a great deal of interest.She glanced back.There was nothing there but a blank piece of paneled wall.When she looked back at him, he was looking at the floor again, his eyes hidden.His mouth was still drawn into a tight line.Hilary would like him.She has a thing for bad boys.
Then, with a terrible jolt, she remembered Hilary was dead.Her mind returned to that fact, picking at it like a scab.In the confusion of last night, she hadn’t even seen Hilary.A lump rose in her throat, tears pricking hotly behind her eyes.
“I was a Sig,” he said quietly.“So I know.They got me from the Marines and hooked me on Zed.Then they trained me.”
“Zed?”
“A drug.It doesn’t interfere with psionic ability, but it’s extremely addictive and breaks down resistance to electroshock conditioning.”
“Electroshock?”Her jaw dropped.“But that’s?—”
“They used a combination of Zed and electroshock as well as physical torture on me.I was resistant, and they wanted what I could do.”He was pale.Was he sweating?
“What can you do?”Fascinated, Rowan moved closer.The hallway was deserted, the air dead and quiet.A scarred faux-marble bust of Octavius in a niche looked over his shoulder.
“A variant of touch telepathy.I can crack a mind like a bank vault and take what I need.”He shrugged.“Useful for intelligence-gathering, especially after Sigma trained me to use it effectively.”
“So why did you leave?”Rowan crossed her arms, cupping her elbows in her hands.The look on his face, flat and unemotional, and the absence of inflection in his voice all screamedtraumato her professional senses.
“Every time they sent me out, I lost a little of my soul.”He stared at the floor.“My handler—they mostly pair psionics with a handler, sort of like a baby-sitter—was a sadistic son of a bitch, played me like a fiddle.He went too far one day.”
“What did he do?”Rowan pitched her voice low, but it was the wrong question.He slanted her an indecipherable look, some life coming back into his face.But he was still pale, and sweat dampened his forehead.
“I’d rather not talk about it.I’ll walk a little slower.”But he didn’t move, and finally looked directly at her.“So I know all about Sigma.Personal experience.I hate the thought of them getting their filthy hands on yo—on anyone else.”
“They sound pretty bad,” Rowan agreed.“They killed my father.Why?”
“I suppose they thought he would be in the way.A psionic with your power… If you had any family left alive, you might have tried to escape to rejoin them, or he might have caused problems by looking for you.Killing your father would neutralize both scenarios.Your friend Hilary was incidental damage—they couldn’t leave any witnesses.”He shrugged, muscle moving under the T-shirt.For a moment she was vaguely afraid of how much taller he was—her arm twinged again, reminding her.She suspected this man could hurt her worse than the man in the parking lot had.
Far worse, and quicker.
“Because they didn’t get me at the Shop’N’Save?”God.What a horrible thing to think.
He was so still she wanted to check him for pulse and respiration.“Maybe.Well, almost certainly.I’m sorry.”
