“Good to meet you,” Colton said, and he sounded like he meant it.
She’d grown so accustomed to being “observed” by people that meeting someone who didn’t take notice of her unique appearance felt…odd. She glanced at Drake. He hadn’t been affected, either. In fact, the first time they’d met, he hadn’t hesitated to put himself between her and an armed gunman. He hadn’t given her appearance a second glance.
Colton’s full attention shifted back to Drake. “What happened? Your text sounded urgent.”
Drake crossed his arms, defensive. “I’m not sure. Heather tried to warn me about danger blowing my way, and then a banshee wailed in my ears.”
Colton’s eyes widened. He didn’t call Drake a liar, and there wasn’t a trace of laughter on his face. “Not a good sign.” He shook his head, his gaze going distant. “I should call the others. We could all be in danger.”
She caught Drake’s eye. Was he going to tell Colton about the boy, the witches, anything she’d conveyed about the threat? A good psychic kept her client’s secrets. She wasn’t going to break her own rule and spill details in front of his friend. Not that Drake was a client. He wasn’t exactly a friend yet, either.
Although it didn’t make sense, her gut instinct demanded she protect him. She didn’t have to understand why. She trusted the universe to reveal answers when the time was right.
Usually.
She’d be careful. No getting emotionally attached.
With her boundaries in place, she lifted her eyes. Drake’s gaze connected with hers on a visceral level. A vision flashed through her mind. He offered her his hand with a bow and that devilish smile on his face…and no scar on his brow. She blinked, the hazy slip through the timeline sealing her firmly back into the present.
Drake frowned. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” Heather nodded and cleared her throat. “I guess I’ll let you know if I get any more messages about the danger.” She turned to Colton and forced a smile. “Nice to meet you. This is an amazing ship you have here.”
She went to the door leading to the open deck. A hand settled on her shoulder. “Wait.”
“I’ve told you all I can.” She risked a look into Drake’s eyes. No visions. She relaxed a little. “I know how to find you if that changes.”
“What if I need to contact you?”
She plucked a business card from the pocket of her cape and held it out to him. “Please be careful.”
Before he could say anything else, she hurried back into the chill of the night air. Visions weren’t a new phenomenon in her line of work, but this had been different and threw her equilibrium off. Usually she saw a scene as an outsider looking in.
This time, she’d been present, an active participant. Drake had been bowing to her, his hand outstretched, and no sign of the old injury over his eyebrow.
She’d never known him without the scar.
Chapter Three
Drake turned the business card over in his hand, his attention on Colton. “Didn’t mean to worry you, quartermaster. The unholy screeching screwed with my head. I’m all right now.”
Colton clenched his jaw, unconvinced. “Do you think the medium had anything to do with it?”
Drake rolled his shoulders back, surprised he hadn’t even considered that angle. He shook his head. “No. Why warn me about danger if she was going to attack me all along?”
“I could call Agent Bale. Maybe he could vouch for her intentions.”
Colton knew as well as anyone that since the fight in the Bonaventure Cemetery, Agent Bale had ended their tenuous relationship. None of the crew had heard from him since. The chances of Bale getting involved to help any of them with a banshee wail were nonexistent.
“The banshee is a warning of impending death.” Drake let out a humorless chuckle. “If her screech was meant for us, that would be one less problem for Bale. No incentive for him to help us unravel it.” He shrugged. “I can’t die anyway, remember?”
Colton raised a brow. “We heal rapidly and we don’t age. Doesn’t mean if someone separated you from your head you wouldn’t die.”
“My head’s not going anywhere,” Drake scoffed.
“Whatever the hell it is, we need to figure out how to stop it.” Colton’s somber gaze weighed on Drake for a moment then he cleared his throat. “Maybe killing you isn’t what it’s after. Eternity is a long time to be lost in your own head.”
Silence hung between them like a specter. Drake walked to the ship’s railing, staring into the dark water of the Savannah River. Colton and the rest of the Sea Dog crew had no idea how many times Drake had balanced on the narrow rope between reality and the abyss of despair. The weight of his failure the night the Sea Dog sank below the surface of the Atlantic still hung like a millstone around his neck. Time hadn’t dulled the guilt he wore like a second skin.
“I’m fine,” Drake muttered. “If you’re still concerned, we can warn the others tomorrow. I shouldn’t have worried you tonight. This isn’t the first time I’ve had ringing in my ears.”
“This ship doesn’t sail without all of us on deck.” Colton clapped his shoulder. “If you’re in danger, then we all are.”
Drake nodded, a swell of gratitude washing over the rocks of his earlier concern. He was damned lucky to have ended up tossing his lot in with this crew centuries ago. They’d become family when he needed it most.
“Thanks, Colton.” He slipped Heather’s card into his pocket. “How about a lift back to my truck?”
…
Heather hung her cape and engaged the deadbolt on her door. Exhaustion already dug its claws into her muscles, quick to remind her of the long night. But she was too wired to sleep. Beyond the vision of Drake without a scar, she couldn’t ignore the fact that the ghost boy had
