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Everett Vaughn Hinckley felt adrenaline surge throughout his body as his heart lurched in his chest. Before him stood a woman, her hands almost close enough to touch his chest, her voice like an ice pick in his eardrums. Staggering several steps backwards, he stared at what he thought were white-hot flames shooting out of the devil bitch’s eyes. He never knew his penis had become flaccid or that he peed on the floor right at her feet. Rooted to the spot, mewling like a kitten, the pipe dropped from his numbed fingers.

Everett had never been so terrified in his life. His heart rate hit one hundred seventy beats per minute. He thought it would burst right out if his chest.

And the blood clot lurking in Everett’s left atrium got just the push it needed. It exploded into the left ventricle then shot into his aorta where it created a nice tight plug. Everett screamed and grabbed his chest with both hands, horrendous pain causing his knees to buckle and his eyes to roll up in his head.

He was dead before he hit the floor.

Estella sat up and cradled her injured arm as her eyes searched the room. Mother of God, she had seen the lady with her
own two eyes
! And the lady pushed the terrible man and he fell and funny noises came out of his mouth. But the lady went away when the man screamed. Estella stared at him on the floor, afraid he was going to get up, maybe hurt her worse. But he didn’t move and no more funny sounds came out of his mouth.

Estella, sweetheart, get up slowly so you don’t make your arm hurt worse, and lie down on the bed. Pull the covers over you to keep warm. The police will be there in a few minutes.

Thrilled that the lady was still in her head, Estella got to her feet, climbed into the bed on the right, and pulled the scratchy bedspread up to her neck. When the police arrived in less than ten minutes, they found her lying on her side with her knees drawn up, hurt and frightened, but alive.

They also found a dead man on the floor.

The camera followed Mariah’s slow, deliberate movements as she approached Frannie, her eyes flat and unreadable. As if she were discussing ten day-old news, Mariah said, “Estella Fuentes is no longer in danger. She will need an ambulance, however.” A smug smile that never lit her eyes slowly formed on her lips. “Mr. Hinckley will need the coroner.”

The autopsy would prove that Everett Vaughn Hinckley died of a myocardial infarction, uncommon but not unheard of in a man only thirty-eight years old. His clogged arteries (caused by high blood pressure, a diet high in saturated fat, and excessive smoking) were a time bomb. The medical examiner stated that he was more than likely dead seconds after the heart attack occurred.

Stunned, Frannie stood before her friend, her mouth ajar as Mariah told her where Estella could be found. Michael left his chair and stood next to her. Frannie knew that Mariah’s voice, so empty, so devoid of emotion, disturbed him as much as it did her. She moved to make the appropriate phone calls.

Mariah’s eyes swiveled in Michael’s direction. Thomas filmed her from the left side as she fleshed out the story. “The animal who abducted Estella was just about to beat her with a metal pipe. His intention was to stop short of killing her so he could rape her while she was still conscious. I was able to ... dissuade him from that course of action.” Michael was treated to that sardonic smile again, the light of immense satisfaction causing her eyes to glow.

She turned and stared into the camera lens and said, “The filthy bastard was so frightened that he had a heart attack and died.”

It was all she intended to say. There was no remorse, no shame. Just a twitch of her shoulders as if Hinckley had been nothing more than a fly she killed with a swatter. She headed for the door and disappeared into the night.

Thomas turned off the camera. The two men stared at each other for a moment. Michael shook his head then followed Mariah out the door. Thomas slipped the camera off his shoulder and onto the table then trotted after them.

She was standing no more than ten feet away, her head tilted back, tossing M&M’s up in the air and catching them in her mouth as they fell. They stood a few feet from her, uncertain what to do.

When the M&M’s were gone, she thrust her hands into her pants pockets and stared at the sky. Without taking her eyes from the stars, Mariah spoke in a voice heavy with irony. “Well, well, well. This is certainly a new wrinkle. There I was, standing in front of him, just like I was physically there. And reading his mind. And seeing him through my eyes, not Estella’s.” She lowered her head, her voice touched with emotions previously missing. “I didn’t consciously intend to do anything to him. Really. I would never kill anyone. Frankly, I wasn’t aware I could, although I was certainly furious enough to want to.

“But he could see me, no doubt about it. I could feel his heart pounding, could hear these ... sounds coming from his throat.”

She gazed into the shadows of the parking lot as though looking for answers. Murmuring to herself, she said, “You know, the kind you make when you’re afraid. Little whimpering sounds. And then he grabbed his chest and his eyes rolled back in his head. He died where he stood.”

Mariah turned toward them, the inscrutable expression gone. She stared at Thomas, her eyes reflecting her inner turmoil, pleading with him to accept this. Harsh with fear, her voice rose. “He had a heart attack. I scared him so badly, his heart just ... it just stopped. Even if it was weak, I gave it just the push it needed. But I didn’t kill him. I swear, I didn’t.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper now. “Even though I just scared him badly and he died, I was
happy
. Like it was a job well done. I didn’t feel sorry or guilty, or...”

Thomas closed the distance between them and his arms wrapped around her. She cried and clung to him, grateful that the wary look in his eyes was gone, more grateful that after what happened, he still wanted to touch her. His embrace was almost painful, but it was an affirmation that she could still feel.

“Mariah.” Michael’s voice held compassion, something she had come to rely on. She didn’t know to what extent until she heard it and felt his hand stroke her hair. She released her stranglehold on Thomas’ neck and moved apart from him.

“When the
Findings
began, we never knew what the outcome would be, nor could we have conceived of this gift of healing that you possess. Even though there’s no doubt in
my
mind where these gifts come from, there are unanswered questions in yours.

“But know this, my dear. Your ‘family’ at Chelsea Heights Community Church loves and supports you, as do your friends.” Michael paused, his smile returned by Thomas. There was something happening between these two that he knew neither was fully aware of: Michael fervently hoped that Thomas would be the strength Mariah needed to get her through the ordeals yet to happen.

“And don’t ever forget this: no matter what’s happened in the past or what will happen in the future, God loves you unconditionally. And He has full knowledge of what you’re doing. If your theory was true and God was
not
the giver of these gifts, He would still love you as no one else on this earth ever will.”

Mariah felt calmed by his words, if not his convictions. She told herself that everything he said was true: she
did
believe in God, and his capacity for unqualified love. She also believed that God had given man free will to either fight the constant temptations that surrounded him or take the easy way out and succumb to the evil inherent in all beings.

She knew she was changing (
mutating
) not only physically but mentally. She feared the future, positive more changes would occur. But most of all, she feared what she would be capable of doing.

Mariah Carpenter acknowledged one of her greatest fears: she might not always use this power wisely. She had enjoyed controlling George René Malchelosse, jerking him around and forcing him to move like a marionette. And she felt justified in the pain she sent lancing through his head, her condemnation for what he’d done to Sophie.

And then tonight. Even though she was positive her intent was not to kill Hinckley, she was glad he was dead. She had walked out of the room to stare up at the stars with no sense of guilt, no regret—only a deep conviction that the vermin would never attack a child again.

Is that so bad? Is it wrong to be glad that I not only rescued Estella Fuentes but stopped a man who might have slipped through the cracks of the judicial system on some mental technicality
?

She tried to keep a little voice in her head from surfacing, but she lost the battle.

Are you playing God
?

The storm rolled in off the tip of the bay, itching for mischief. Spotting a few unsecured garbage can lids in the town of Allendale, it spun them into the air like Frisbees then dumped three inches of rain on the already water-logged streets. Warmed up and ready to tackle a bigger challenge, it jumped highway 273 and roared down Third Street until it found the apartment complex where Mariah lived. Cavorting in between the buildings and wailing like a banshee, it spit slivers of sleet against everything in its path.

The blowhard did not intimidate the old Italian Cyprus trees that hugged the north wall of her building. With roots anchored deeply in the earth and imperturbable as stone sentinels, they nevertheless shuddered from the storm’s impact, their needles scraping against the building, the sound like a metal spoon banging inside a metal pot.

Mariah stood at the sliding glass door that led to her balcony. The sleet sounded like BB shots striking the glass. The pathetic red maple tree on the corner cowered before its assailant, branches bent inward as if shielding itself from the anticipated blows. The leaves were gone; it reminded Mariah of her own pathetic nakedness each time she had those planetoid dreams.

The family confrontation behind her, Mariah was still consumed with anxiety. Without too much dread, she called Thomas, needing to be with someone ... needing to be with him. She did not want a serious relationship with a man (had never actually had one in fact), her woeful lack of self-esteem and her little secret enough to dissuade any overtures. But she had begun to feel comfortable in Thomas’ presence, plus he already knew she was weird and seemed to like her anyway.

She was thrilled that, with no hesitation, he agreed to brave the storm, even offering to bring a bottle of her favorite red wine. Her stomach had felt fluttery when they disconnected. Three nights ago he had given her a chaste goodnight kiss: she had barely restrained herself from wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing against him.

They talked for two hours. Thomas listened, asked appropriate questions, and held her hands when her voice shook with fear for her future. He encouraged her to talk about episodes in her teenage years that weren’t of a psychic nature as a picture of a timid kid with an unquenchable thirst for approval emerged. To distract her, he regaled her with stories of his misadventures as a young man. When her lips parted in a soft smile that made her eyes warm and inviting, Thomas knew that he’d been right; patience and timing was everything.

Since he was there when she found Sophie Duval, she quickly summarized the other six
Findings
. However, when she described the
Healings
—hers, and those who had participated in the
Findings
—his look of astonishment made her wince. When his smile returned and he just shook his head, the band around her heart loosened.

He said he was as skeptical as she about all of this falling under the category of miracles. While he believed in a Higher Power, he didn’t feel the need to attend church services, doubtful that an omniscient deity would have any more regard for its sentient creations than humans did for ants.

When she told him about the visits to her dream world, his eyes sparkled with excitement. He laughed; he said he envisioned big bucks in Hollywood movies. She laughed too, a feeling of genuine delight warming her like a cup of hot cocoa.

The
Visitation
was the most difficult to explain. Of all the supernatural events that occurred during the past ten months, this was the most implausible. She saw uncertainty creep into his eyes as he frowned in thought. But like her sister, Thomas believed that as long as Mariah believed it, it was real for her.

She left him sitting on the couch while she watched the storm’s path of destruction. She assumed he needed time to digest all the information she just gave him while she braced herself for the rejection she felt was coming.

Her heartbeat quickened when she saw him, in the glass door’s reflection, approach her. His nearness made her feel safe ... and something a lot more carnal. As his warm hands began to knead her neck, Mariah closed her eyes, groaning at the blissful sensation of this strong but gentle massage that loosened the tension in her shoulders. The heat from his body and the smell of his cologne stimulated her senses. When his hands stopped and his arms came around to enfold her, she nestled against him, surrendering to the reassurance he offered.

They remained thus for several minutes. She assured herself that this was not meant to be sexual. It was his way of assuring her that she had not scared him off, that he accepted her incredible story and still wanted to be near her.

Tears welled in Mariah’s eyes. This innocent gesture made her feel that
something
in her life was normal. She was amazed he hadn’t backed away, hadn’t retreated from this madness. But he was there the night she found Sophie: if that didn’t scare him off then her childhood incidences of telekinesis, the
Visitation
, and the
Healings
were not about to.

Thomas buried his nose in her hair then lowered his head to nuzzle the tender spot behind her ear. His pulse accelerated from the smell of her perfume. The soft moan that came from the back of her throat told him she liked what he was doing ... liked it a lot.

A smile of surprise parted his lips and he stopped kissing her neck. When his arms loosened he felt Mariah stiffen. She turned to face him, her eyes cool and shuttered.

He cupped her shoulders in his hands as his eyes roamed slowly down the length of her body and back up. Filled with wonder, Thomas said, “Mariah, you’ve grown taller.”

The wind chose that moment to stop trying to bend the Cyprus trees to its will. In the silence, she threw back her head, her laughter giddy with relief. He took her face in his hands, stirred by the sudden heat of desire that flashed in her eyes, confused by the accompanying look of gratitude.

“You’re right, Thomas.” Her voice was husky with desire. “But I didn’t think anyone would notice. Along with everything else, I’ve suddenly grown a little over an inch!” Her eyes sparkled with happiness as he accepted just one more thing that made her such an oddity.

The fire in her eyes was all he needed. His lips came down on hers, moving softly at first then intensifying with increased passion. His patience over the past month was rewarded as she wove her fingers through his hair. The inside of her mouth tasted like red wine, now heated and smooth as honey. Her tongue entwined with his; she whimpered with pleasure when he pulled her tightly against him, finding his lust returned.

He growled deep in his throat, a primal response as old as the dawn of mankind as his male body reacted to her female hunger as it was designed to. Thomas wondered what had finally made her drop her reserve and give in to the electricity that had been building between them since the moment they met. The thought passed; his entire concentration was now on this woman who was driving him wild.