Out of Mind

Expressions flitted across her features. He could swear she was seeing something, and it alternately scared and angered her. All he could do was hope she would share whatever it was, and soon.

Ben kept quiet, although there was enough noise at Fortunes to vibrate the average listener’s eardrums.

The club was closed, but a jam session blasted from the stage in bursts. Gabby LaHane, diamonds glinting in heavy gold jewelry, ground out a gritty chorus of “You Held Me Tight,” while his fingers drummed rapidly over the piano keys—big, stubby fingers as agile as a breeze through new grass.

“Why are you so sure Chris didn’t pack up and leave?” Ben said, shifting to the edge of his own blue-covered chair. The club was just about all blue, including the walls and floor, and eerie, the way the Fortune siblings liked it. “If he didn’t, where is he?”

Blinking slowly, Willow looked at him. “There is so much anger,” she said. “Everywhere. Anger. Revenge. They want revenge. I don’t know why they’ve taken the others. What do they want them for?”

She wasn’t really asking questions of anyone but herself.

He didn’t make any sudden moves and shot approaching Sykes a warning glance. If he weren’t trying to keep his physical reactions to Willow under control, he would sit by her. The closer he was, the more successful he seemed at keeping her interacting with him.

Ben waited, and so did Sykes, who braced his feet apart and crossed his arms, his eyes unreadable.

“If we don’t destroy them, they will destroy us,” Willow muttered. “The Embran.”

The movement Ben saw from the edge of his vision was Sykes’s arms dropping to his sides. The two men met each other’s eyes. Ben sensed that Sykes had heard what Willow said and its meaning had shocked him. He padded toward them, as graceful as ever, but giving off waves of antagonism.

“Listen to them,” Willow said, very quietly. “They are beautiful, especially when they smile.”

“The Embran?”

Willow startled, her eyes coming into focus. But she didn’t give him an answer.

“Who is beautiful when they smile?” he pressed.

“I don’t know!” Willow spoke so loudly that Sykes came at a run and the dog jumped on her lap. “No, I don’t know, I tell you. I want it all to stop. I don’t like any of it.”

Poppy started to leave the bar, but Sykes looked back and shook his head.

Ben couldn’t hold back; he went to sit beside Willow at once and pulled her into his arms. A new reaction, pain, at the bottom of his spine, shot through his pelvis, and he tried to not acknowledge that he was erect. This seemed purely sexual, but his overwhelming feeling was the need to protect Willow. He couldn’t bear her to be afraid, and she was deeply afraid now.

Taking the arm of the sofa on Willow’s opposite side, Sykes looked into her face. “Take some deep breaths,” he told her. “And quit worrying.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Ben said. “Not ever.”

She opened her mouth, but her breathing stayed shallow. The hand she closed just above Ben’s knee jolted her. It doubled Ben over, and there was nothing he could do to stop himself.

Through waves of excruciatingly perfect pain he heard Sykes’s soft laughter and it gave him the strength to straighten up. Gradually he was left with edgy, demanding awareness, and he could hold Willow even closer while he glared at Sykes.

“All over between the two of you, huh?” Sykes said. “It’s a good job you found that out before it was too late.”

“Quit it,” Willow told him. “This isn’t a joke.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” Sykes said, struggling for a straight face. “Never having experienced what goes with, er, it, myself, I can only guess about that.”

What amazed Ben was that Willow didn’t try to push him away.

“I never wanted any of this,” she said.

“Can you explain exactly what you mean by this?” Ben asked. “Who have they taken? You said you don’t know why they took them. Was it the Embran who did that?”

She shook her head repeatedly, from side to side. “I don’t know anymore. But some have been taken. The Embran, yes, they’ve started taking people.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” Willow looked sideways at him, and everything she really thought about what might or might not be true about herself, showed in her eyes. “I’m not normal, am I?” she whispered.

“Depends on your interpretation of normal,” Sykes said. “Feels normal to me and Ben—and all the other members of our families, and some other families we know about.”

“You didn’t need me, too,” Willow said. “Why did I have to be dragged in?”

“I need you,” Ben said quietly, not caring if Sykes heard.

“Something tried to lift me up and take me away,” Willow said, still staring at Ben’s face. “At my office. I thought it was going to. I couldn’t see it or feel it with my hands—only its hold on me and the way I started being dragged out of my chair.”

Horror gripped Ben. She couldn’t be left alone—ever—not as long as she was vulnerable enough to…to die for someone else’s fight.

“Whose fight is it?” he asked Sykes silently.

His old friend raised a brow. They hadn’t communicated telepathically since they were kids in school and did it to amuse themselves. “Willow told you more about the Embran than I thought she knew. I believe there really was a visitation at her office—from someone on our side, probably Jude. He went to save her from whatever was trying to take her away.”

“Yes. But why is she the focus? What she’s talking about is a kidnap attempt, but why her? And I think she’s getting hints of someone, or more than one, who have already been taken.”

“We’ve got more than that to figure out,” Sykes said. “Someone’s dumped a jigsaw puzzle on the floor for us.”

“I never liked jigsaws. Chess is my game.” Ben heard Sykes laugh behind his serious face. “Next time we play I’ll bet you the same as usual,” Ben told him. The last game they played, Sykes won. The record tended to even out, though.

“We’ll need to work together with her,” Sykes said. “I’ll get Marley on board, too. And Gray. He’s coming along nicely.”

“Good idea. They’ll jump at the chance—once Marley stops being mad that this isn’t all over. She’s very protective of Willow.”

Ben caught Willow frowning at him. She hugged Mario, who looked smug, yes, smug. The dog had a whole range of annoying expressions.

“What is it?” he asked Willow.

She kept staring at him, then turned in Sykes’s direction.

“Watch out or she may hear us,” Ben heard Sykes tell him. “She’s giving in to what she is, and her talents are taking over. I want to know how developed her powers are.”

She turned her attention to a glass ball in the middle of the nearest table. Each table in the place had a similar ball. “They’re hokey,” she said, and he saw her shoulders heave a little. “Crystal balls in a club called Fortunes—awful.”

Ben chuckled. “Thank you. They’re snow globes with fiber-optic lights.” She chose odd times to notice decor. “They’ve got motion sensors.”

Sykes bent to pass a hand over the glass ball near them. Blue light zipped around inside like skinny shards of lightning—and snow whirled.

“Still hokey,” she said. “All you need is fake thunder booming overhead.”

Ben was tempted, but controlled the urge to oblige.

“You’re changing the subject,” Sykes said. “Let’s get back to what happened at your office. It’s easy to gloss over something important, and we need to know it all.”

Her face set and she sat even closer to Ben of her own accord. “Okay, I’ll say it again,” she said in a monotone, a white line forming around her lips. “An attempt was made to kidnap me—I think. I don’t know who or what did it. And a man came to show me a book. He was handsome, with white streaks in his long, black hair. His