LogansEmpath (11 page)

Brandr stretched his arms over his head, groaning as his
spine and shoulders popped. “I don’t know about you, my friend, but I plan on
sleeping until the next day’s dawn.”

Even Laughlin’s bones felt tired, his muscles completely
spent. He started agree with Brandr but something froze the words. The world
around him shimmered then faded to gray. His normal sight dimmed as a vision
took him, threatening to drag him under. He had something to do, somewhere he
had to go. A moment of grave importance, an aligning of fate, lay just beyond
his reach.

“I’ll meet you later,” he murmured as he fought for control
and focus.

Brandr obviously recognized the look after so many years
spent working with and supporting Laughlin. “Do you need me to come with you?”
he asked, already adjusting the strap holding his sword. “Is it dangerous?”

“I don’t believe so.” Laughlin closed his eyes and tried to
get a stronger fix on what the vision was trying to tell him.
Strange, I’m
only getting feelings and impressions, nothing more solid. It must be tied to
my own destiny. Then why do I feel it is so important to our cause?
“I
think I have to do this myself.”

Yes, that felt right. Brandr’s presence would change the
course of fate. Something about him being too intimidating, maybe? What is it?

Clapping Laughlin on his shoulder, Brandr started walking
from the battlefield toward their encampment. Thankfully, he wasn’t one to
argue. Not when it came to what Laughlin’s powers told him.

Laughlin turned in the opposite direction, toward the small
trading village they were using to resupply. The path was deserted, a lonely
stretch of nothingness. But it wasn’t entirely empty of presence. Someone was
there, someone waiting for easy prey. That was who he needed to face.

Laughlin braced himself for the attack he knew was coming as
he rounded a grove of spindly trees.

A slight form darted forward, dancing around him and
pressing a small blade to his throat. “Your coins. Hand them over and I won’t
be carving you.”

Laughlin struggled to keep the surprise from his face and
voice.
A strange turn of events indeed.
“Do you really want to do that,
woman?” It was difficult not to grin at the absurdity. Fight demons for untold
hours only to be brought down by a slip of a female. “Rob one of the village’s
protectors when the demons are coming nightly?”

“Your kind haven’t protected me or mine. I protect myself.”
She pressed the blade against his skin until it almost broke through. “Now,
your coins.”

He tried to move his neck but couldn’t as the blade would
nick his skin with the slightest twist on his part. “You’ll have to ease up. I
can’t reach them without harming myself.”

The woman moved back somewhat and loosened the force against
his throat a bit.

Just enough.

Laughlin grabbed her wrist, slamming her hand into the tree
behind them. As her blade fell to the ground he twisted her arm behind her
back.

She cursed, kicking out at him and jerking on her arm.

“Be still.” He let a little pressure off, not wanting to
really hurt her. That wasn’t what this meeting was about. Whatever fate held
for them, he had to gain her trust. Hurting her would do nothing for his cause.
“You will only harm yourself. I don’t mean to cause you pain. I just want to
talk.”

“Right, talk,” she spat, bucking and twisting but unable to
break his hold. “That’s what every man wants, to talk to his attacker,
especially when she’s a woman.”

Something about the bitterness in her voice pulled at Laughlin’s
heart. “Maybe not, but that is what I intend on doing. So what say you calm
yourself and promise you won’t run when I release you. I vow that I only wish
to speak to you.”

The woman stilled. He could almost hear the thoughts rushing
through her mind—trust or not to trust. But she stopped fighting. “Let me go.
I’ll listen.”

Laughlin released his grasp, stepping back to let the woman
right herself and to put distance between them if she came up swinging. She
pulled her cloak down over her face and moved as far into the shadow of the
trees as possible. But she didn’t run and she didn’t fight.

“What do you want from me?” Suspicion laced her voice but
Laughlin also recognized a touch of curiosity.

“How about we sit and talk for a while?” He smiled sadly as
she gave a dark laugh. Belief wouldn’t come easily but Laughlin knew in his
heart of hearts that this was an important moment. Fated. He had to at least
get her to have faith that he wouldn’t attack her. “This discussion may take
time and I’m exhausted from the day’s battle. I really don’t think I can stand
for so long. And I know that I am no threat to you.”

The woman kept her distance as she walked around to the
slight incline he gestured toward. She sat on the ground with her knees to her
chest and her cloak pulled tight.

He gave her the space she seemed to need, sitting close
enough to make it easy to have a conversation while allowing her room to flee.
“My name is Laughlin. Would you mind telling me yours?”

“You don’t plan on calling for my punishment, do you?” Her
voice held both wariness and wonder.

He answered truthfully, though he knew she believed
otherwise. “No, I do not.”

“Sabine.”

“That’s a nice name.” Laughlin stretched his legs out and
leaned back on his elbows to stare at the sky.

She snorted. “Nice name. That’s a silly thing to say.” But
she did let go of her knees, mirroring his position by stretching her own legs
out in the dry dirt in front of her. But she didn’t lie back. “What is it you
want, Laughlin?”

“How much do you know about us, the warriors who fight the
scourge?”

She tilted her head toward him and shrugged, giving him his
first glimpse of delicate features. “What’s to know? You are strong, strong
enough to fight the demons. You are madmen with your blades and bows. Madmen to
face the demons in the first place.” The cloak fell back a bit, revealing
narrowed brown eyes. “They say that some of you even possess magic.”

Laughlin nodded. “True, all true. Though I try not to act
too mad.”

“All true?” Her brown eyes filled widened in disbelief.
“Even the magic?”

Holding his hand out, palm upward, Laughlin let a little
magic collect and form a small glowing orb. “Even magic.”

He waited for her to gasp and move back. He was even
prepared to chase after her if she chose to run. Instead she surprised him by
leaning forward to get a better glimpse, her fingers hovering over the light.
“Is it hot? Does it burn?”

“Not humans. But it destroys demons.”

A calculating look flowed across her face, sliding into a
wicked smile. “And can anyone learn to do that?”

“Anyone with the talent. The talent for it is inborn but the
skills must be taught.” He closed his hand and extinguished the flame. “You
could learn.”

The calculation shifted and melted into a strange hope. Her
eyes glittered with possibilities. “What makes you think I have that talent?”

“I was born with the
sight
. I see many things.” He
took a risk with his next words.
Please let this be worth it. Please let me
have read her correctly and don’t let her run.
“I
saw
you.”

“Me?” she asked. But Laughlin was pleased to see she didn’t
try to move away.

“Yes. My
sight
led me here to you. It tells me that
you are more than you seem as well.” He met her gaze with his own challenge.
“Is there anything you can tell me?”

She licked her lips, letting the hood of her cloak fall
around her shoulders. Rich brown hair fell forward to frame her thin face. “I
can sense the feelings of those around me. I know when someone means to harm me
and who to trust.”

Laughlin nodded. “I’ve met someone with similar skills, a
woman who fights with us.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Laughlin pictured Jehanne as he last saw her, leading
Erich and Ryo from the battlefield and to their shared tent. “She stays with a
man with similar powers to my own. She lends her powers to him and to his
comrade.”

“And they kill the demons, together? She helps in the fight,
doesn’t stay home and wait for her man to return alive? She makes her own kills
in battle?”

“Yes, and they do it well.”
So preoccupied with killing.
There is a story here.
“Why do you want the demons dead and why did you say
earlier that you didn’t trust in the warriors’ protections?”

Sabine reached over for a small stick on the ground, pulling
it apart as she spoke. “I come from another village. My family was slaughtered
by the demons there. The whole village was. I nearly died as well.”

Laughlin thought for a moment of his own family, his own
village.
An all-too-familiar reason to join the fight.
“So you want
revenge.”

“Yes.” She tossed the stick, watching as it kicked up a puff
of dust. “Is that so bad?”

“Not entirely, no. Many warriors come to us from a desire
for vengeance.” Laughlin considered a previous vision, one filled with a hope
for peace and an explanation for the creatures. “But I believe that those
negative feelings are what make it possible for the demons to come to our
world.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But I can tell you more of that later. That is, if you
plan to come with me back to the warriors’ camp.” Laughlin stood, dusting off
his clothes. He tried not to make his next words seem as important as they
were. “Would you join us?”

Sabine stared off in the distance. “I could fight them. I
could make a difference.” She turned to look up at him. “Would I be staying
with you? You said the other woman worked with someone like you.”

“I’d like that. It’s what I’ve seen in my visions. You would
work with me and my comrade, Brandr.” Laughlin took a final chance, kneeling
and reaching out to touch her hand. “Would you be all right with that?”

She stared at his hand on hers. Laughlin had started to fear
that he had pushed too hard when she flipped her hand over beneath his and held
on. “It’s a place to start.”

“It certainly is.”~

Chapter Thirteen

The lunch crowd was as busy as normal, even with the rain
that started sometime the night before still pouring. Dishes clanked and voices
echoed and laughed, the sound comforting in its familiarity. The cafe was
packed with regulars and Bree should’ve had nothing to think about except for
work. But even while running her feet off she couldn’t give her surroundings
her entire focus. Between flashbacks of the night before with Logan and her
inability to block out the emotions of other people, Bree worked on autopilot.

Logan. I never thought I’d ever meet a man like him. Sexy
and strong. The kind of guy who can make my knees melt with a glance. He seems
honorable, caring even. But more importantly, he understands me and my life.
He’s one hell of a fighter. So I have to be careful. He’s dangerous.

I refuse to fall in love. I don’t have it in me to fall
in love, not in a world so full of violence and the possibility of imminent
death.

As she renewed that vow to herself, she slid a plate in
front of a perpetually smiling woman, Mrs. Douglas, an older teacher at
Browningsville Elementary. Without meaning to, Bree brushed the edges of Mrs.
Douglas’ emotions, completely unprepared for the paralyzing grief that filled
her to the point of explosion. Her husband had passed six months before of lung
cancer, but she’d seemed to be dealing well. Bree didn’t know if she wanted to offer
the woman comfort or to completely avoid her.

But how could a person deal with so much pain without
someone, like family, to support her?

Bree almost reached out to squeeze Mrs. Douglas’ shoulder.
She pulled her hand back just in time. How could she explain her reaction?
Would her sympathy make the woman feel better or that much worse?

Bree felt a wave of concern flowing toward her from behind.
She turned to see Ty staring at her from the other side of the counter. He
worried about her, like all her brothers. But Ty always seemed more sensitive
to people’s moods. Not as sensitive as she was, but enough that he always
managed to be there when she needed him. Bree knew she was acting weird, had
been since she’d gotten up that morning, but she was struggling to deal with
the sudden change in her powers.

Ty couldn’t help her.

Where before she’d had to strain to pinpoint emotions that
weren’t burning hot in the person, now it seemed every feeling around her
swirled and flowed like a never-ending, unblocked stream.

It was both freeing and frightening.

As Bree cleared and wiped down a table, she glanced back at
Mrs. Douglas, pity still eating at her as she felt the woman’s emptiness. Bree
wished she could do something to ease her pain. She knew what it was like,
dealing with that type of loss, and her heart went out to the widow.

With that thought in her mind, Bree felt an ebbing in the
flow of grief. It was as if Bree’s emotions were affecting the woman’s
emotional state.

This time Bree actively pushed a sense of peace and
acceptance at Mrs. Douglas. While the underlying grief didn’t disappear, the
unending sadness lightened.

I’m controlling someone else’s emotions.

She glanced around the cafe. People ate and chatted, drank
and laughed. The foundation of her world had fractured and no one else seemed
to notice. Not even Ty, though he still watched her closely.

As she scanned the room, she noticed two men arguing at a
corner table. One man was sheet white, hands clenched by his plate. The other
couldn’t be any redder, slamming his fist on the table hard enough to slosh
water out of his glass. Anger and hurt boiled and swirled around them. She
wasn’t a mind reader. She could only feel the rage almost as if it were her
own. She couldn’t tell what made them so angry but she knew that if they hadn’t
been in public, blows would’ve already been exchanged.