Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 131364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Adam’s eyes went back to the inn, to the wing where he knew Eleri had been assigned a room, but the tree canopy blocked his view of that spot, and right now, despite his compulsion to speak to her—a compulsion that he fucking hated—her knowledge was background, not fresh.
He made another call.
“Sally,” he said when a woman with a throaty voice answered the phone after a few rings.
“Adam, I heard,” said the proprietor of the Dewdrop Diner—and a woman who was always awake at this early hour because that was when her first customers began to drift in. The long-haul truckers about to start their journeys, the business types heading out of town, folks who’d been out partying a little too late and desperately needed food. “How is he?”
“Not good,” Adam said, because Sally was a friend of the clan from way back when she’d gone to school with Adam’s mother. “Have you heard anything?”
“I figure you already know about the stranger—the J?”
“Yeah.”
“Not that she seemed suspicious. She said she’s looking into a cold case when I asked, and I saw her with Beaufort and Whitten yesterday coming back from the site of Jacques’s shooting, so I figure she’s legit.”
Adam frowned; he should’ve realized Eleri would find a way to look at the scene. She might be shit at justice, but as Damon had confirmed, she was damn good at working with cops to hunt killers. “Nothing else?”
“Nothing on who might’ve done it, but John Hendricks was just in here to grab a coffee and mentioned the chief flew in late last night, cut his trip short as soon as he heard about Jacques. Drove home from the airport straightaway.”
That drive was a good two hours, so the chief would’ve arrived in Raintree after Adam crashed. “Thanks, Sally.”
“No need for that,” she said gruffly. “I’ll call you if I pick up anything else.”
Adam glanced at the time after Sally hung up and figured that despite his late night, Chief Cross would be up and at work. The man was a good cop, one who’d be angry at what had taken place in his town.
Adam decided to go see him, but first he looked in on the infirmary.
“She’s still sleeping,” Amir told him when he asked about Naia. “And Jacques…no change. Kavi is in there with him taking readings.” Shadows lined his eyes. “I’ve held off all visitors. Saoirse also put out the word.”
“Good.” Jacques wouldn’t want to be seen this way.
But that wasn’t what had Adam’s gut in knots.
“If I get injured and there’s no hope,” Jacques had said one night as they sat at the local bar nursing beers, “I don’t want a parade of visitors and I especially don’t want to be kept artificially alive. Pull the plug, scatter me into the mountain sky.”
“What brought this on?” Adam had asked.
“Just got word from my kid sister about the passing of someone I got to be friends with when we’d fly to visit my father’s clan. His family couldn’t let go, kept him alive for fucking months. Rick would’ve hated that. So you promise me, Adam. If I’m that badly messed up, you make sure I get to fly.”
Adam’s chest grew tight. I’ll keep my promise, Jacques. Just let me exhaust all possible options first.
“I’m going to see Chief Cross, and Dahlia’s catching some sleep.”
“I’ll hold the fort.” Amir indicated the small table against the wall. “Saoirse brought us enough food to feed an army.” A wealth of love in his tone. “She told me you two spoke.”
Adam nodded. “Hand things over to Pascal as soon as he’s up. I’ll need you to take a late shift again. None of us can afford to wear ourselves out.”
“Will do. You recall Maraea and Edward?”
“Right before I fell asleep—they’ll land sometime around midday.” Amir and Pascal’s fellow wing commander and her nurse husband had been visiting family in another clan. Their return would shore up their ranks on both the security and medical fronts.
“You driving down?”
“No, I need to fly.” His falcon was hurting, needed the balm of the sky, and the clan had a clothing stockpile not too far from the chief’s place, so it wouldn’t be an issue to fly down instead of driving.
He was on the wing a minute later, his takeoff smooth in the morning quiet. He held back the falcon’s need to voice its angry pain until he was high above the desert, where the sound wouldn’t scare or wake his people. Only once he’d flown off the first bite of anguish did he head to the unassuming two-story home that had been the chief’s residence as long as Adam had known him.
The lights of an emergency vehicle flickered on the street below.
An ambulance about to turn into the chief’s drive.
Chapter 12
Telepathy is a catchall designation that—technically—contains the entire Psy race, for all Psy have to have at least Gradient 1 telepathy to jack into the PsyNet. In practical terms, however, it’s only those above 3 on the Gradient who are considered true telepaths—but that is just the beginning. Telepathy is a designation with a multitude of subdesignations.