He blinked, sputtering out the water as it fell on him, completely dazed and pale from his somersault into the tub and the gun firing. “We heard you scream. Got Brim … Emma said … I thought …”

A few seconds of stunned silence went by.

“Mom. It’s okay.”

I took the towel from her, having dropped it when I went for my gun, and sat back down.

Our gazes went from one to another. Rex to Emma. Emma to Me. Me to Rex. And then Emma burst out laughing. It was no time for joking around, but the last few minutes, the shock of it all … I started laughing, too, and it didn’t make an ounce of sense.

Emma pointed at Rex. “You should’ve seen your face when you poked your head out of the tub.” Her giggles were contagious, but Rex seemed to be the only one who didn’t find it funny. He was still in shock.

His pale face finally grew pink. “You’re not funny,” he said, turning the water off. “Neither one of you. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He pulled himself over the ledge until he sat on the edge of the tub. “Moving in here with you crazy women.” He ran a hand down his face and then slicked his hair back off his forehead, shaking his head in disbelief. “I need a drink.” He stood and then shuffled passed us, mumbling about gun-toting women and talking hellhounds.

Once our giggles subsided, Emma slipped her arm over Brimstone’s lowered neck and hugged him. “Good boy,” she whispered, her face turning into his bald, corded neck. “He knew something was wrong. You did good, Brim, real good. Exactly like I told you.”

Brim panted, tongue lagging, totally at ease and, unless I was imagining things, leaning slightly into her. It was the way she spoke to him, the tone of her voice, that wound its way into my clearing mind and set off the five-alarm bell.

“Em …” I squeezed my eyes closed against the sudden sting of tears and swallowed hard before looking at her again. “Please don’t tell me you can communicate with him.”

Her head remained against Brim’s neck, but she turned her round, solemn eyes in my direction, looking so young and innocent, so brave and yet so scared. “I was going to tell you …” Her small voice held a faint edge of defense. “But I knew you’d get all freaked out and—”

“Here’s your robe. You want to tell us what happened, Charlie?” Rex interrupted from the doorway, holding out the cotton robe I hardly ever used.

Brimstone jogged through the doorway and into the bedroom as Emma helped me to my feet. I snatched the robe, turned away from Rex, dropped the towel, and covered myself. Then I made careful steps over the floor, avoiding the sharp splinters of wood and glass. Once on the bedroom carpet, I stopped to brush off the pieces that stuck to the soles of my feet.

“Just got paid an unexpected visit by someone I met once. It’s nothing.”

“I wouldn’t call breaking into a warded house and destroying the bathroom ‘nothing.’ Unless you want us to believe you two were just showing off powers. You know, like”—he used a deep Arnold Schwarzenegger voice—“‘my powers are bigger than yours’ …”

I shot Rex a glower. “That’s exactly what it was.”

He rolled his eyes and whistled to Brim. “Come on, mutt. Let’s get that drink. A Valium would be nice …”

“There’s some in the medicine cabinet!” I yelled after him, making sure the sarcasm was clear. “Take as much as you want!”

Once the door was closed, I removed the robe, some of the wood pieces falling off my back and shoulder. My skin had dried, so Emma helped brush the remaining debris off my back. I had the shakes, bad, and couldn’t control it.

“What have I said for the past two months?” When she didn’t respond, I answered for her. “At the first sign or gut instinct of trouble, you run for your room and lock the door.”

She gave a guilty shrug and asked, “So what happened?”

I slumped on the edge of the mattress in defeat, still achy in my head and not ever wanting to revisit the horror of having someone violate my mind. “I don’t know, Em. He appeared in the bathroom—don’t ask me how—wanted to chat, and I wanted him out. How long have you been communicating with Brim?”

“He tried to kill you?”

I shook my head, unnerved by that question coming out of my kid’s mouth. “No, Em. He didn’t try to kill me. He wanted me to listen, and I didn’t want to.”

“You’ll need to shower again, get all this little crud off you,” she mumbled.

“Are you going to answer the question?” I went to the dresser drawer as she sat on the end corner of the bed, her hands tucked together and resting in the crook of her bent knee. She stayed quiet as I jerked on a pair of underwear, boxers, and a T-shirt, as though awaiting the firing squad. She, apparently, had the greatest impression of me.

Being a single parent, I always had to be the bad guy, and I hated that. Yes, I was upset, stunned, and pissed off at the universe for giving my child some kind of ability. But it wasn’t her fault. It was in her bloodline. In the traces of ancient off-world genes passed down from generation to generation since the time of biblical cohabitation when some of the off-worlders chose human mates and produced offspring.

Those old and diluted bloodlines were responsible for creating powers in humans. Clairvoyants, mediums, shamans … The Madigan bunch, however, had the distinction of having not one off-worlder ancestor (which was rare in itself), but two—a Charbydon and an Elysian. It’s what made me the perfect subject for Mynogan’s gene manipulation. It’s what gave my sister her extraordinary abilities. And what had now been passed on to Emma.

I sat back on the bed. “So how long have you known?”

Her lips puckered together, making two dimples in her cheeks, and she scratched the tip of her upturned nose. “I don’t know. For a while now, I guess.” She shrugged. “But I didn’t know I could talk to Brim until a few days after he came home. Well, I mean … it’s not like we can talk to each other, like have conversations and stuff. I can sense what he wants and feels, and he can do the same. Are you mad?”

“I’m not mad, Em,” I began, shaking my head. “Shocked? Yeah. But not mad. How could I be mad that you were born with special abilities?”

“Aunt Bryn calls it a gift.” Her face paled. “I’m sorry, Mom. She understands, and I knew she wouldn’t get upset if I told her. Plus, she kind of sensed it anyway. Well, at least that’s what she said.”

I pulled a wet strand of hair from my cheek and tucked it behind my ear, then reached up to tie the whole damp mess of it into a knot, trying desperately not to feel hurt that I’d been left out by the two of them. “I’m not upset. And I wish you wouldn’t think that’s always going to be my first reaction.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that you were going through all that stuff at work. And you hate Brim. You hate anything to do with crafting …”

I sighed. “Yes, but I love you. And hate is too strong a word. I don’t hate Brim or crafting.”

“You should’ve told me about Daddy.” Her words carved another nice little chunk out of my heart, though rightfully so.

I wanted to back up, to talk more about this communication thing with Brim, but the stark vulnerability in Em’s expression told me that would be a terrible mistake right now. It had taken a lot for her to confront me, first in anger earlier in her bedroom, and now here.

I gave her a sorry smile that would never be enough to convey how I felt. “I wanted to. I planned to. I wanted to give you time to get over what happened with me and your kidnapping. But it never seemed like the right time and then the holidays came and you got the part in the Christmas Day play. I thought maybe after …” I scrubbed both hands down my face and shook my head. “Look, I don’t always make the right decisions, Em. But every decision I do make is out of love and wanting to protect you. Everything I do comes from there. You have to trust me on that.”