“There is a plus side to this,” Leigh told him.

“Oh, yeah? I’d love to hear it.”

“Sarah will have his strength as well as her own to draw on.”

Sarah frowned. “That makes me sound…like a parasite.”

Leigh shook her head. “Hardly that. The connection between you and Tucker runs both ways; eventually, he’ll be able to tap into your abilities as easily as you do.”

“A remote-controlled psychic,” Brodie muttered.

“More or less,” Leigh agreed. “Sarah, you two are a team. Two halves of a very powerful whole. And that might just give us an unexpected edge over the other side.”

It was Cait who said, “But if they used a psychic to control Tucker’s mind, won’t that person be aware of the connection?”

“I doubt it. I wasn’t aware of it, even after Sarah looked into my mind. It’s too deep to be seen or sensed, and so rare that no one would think to look for it.”

“What about when they use it?” Brodie asked, intent now and not so dour about the situation. “Won’t it be obvious then? To another psychic, I mean.”

“It might well be obvious even to a nonpsychic.” Leigh frowned and shook her head. “The problem is knowing how all that power will…manifest itself. Sarah isn’t the usual sort of precognitive psychic, and her ability to tap into that place she calls the crossroads makes her unique.”

“It does?” Sarah asked.

“It definitely does. Sarah, in all these years, I’ve never known another psychic able to do that. We’ve theorized that such a place exists, but to my knowledge, no one has ever found it. Besides which, psychics tend to…specialize. I’m a telepath, as unable to see the future as Brodie or Cait is. I read thoughts, period. A precognitive psychic sees the future. An empathic psychic senses emotions, often through physical contact or objects. A telekinetic psychic is able to move or influence objects. And so on. But you…”

“I’ve seen the future.”

“Yes. But you’re also a telepath, a strong one. I believe you’re able to send as easily as you receive. And if you are able to tap into this ‘crossroads’ you describe, then all of time is open to you. It may take you a lifetime to learn how to use the ability, but once you do…”

“Interesting possibilities,” Brodie drawled.

Sarah decided not to think about the possibilities. Not now. There was already too much to take in, to understand; she focused on the most important thing in her life, and held him before her like a lodestar.

“I don’t care about that. All I care about is getting Tucker away from those people.”

“Which opens up a whole new set of possibilities,” Brodie said, not drawling now. “Most of them unpleasant.”

“I’m not asking you to help me,” Sarah told him. “This is not your problem, so don’t worry about it. It’s not your fight.”

Brodie linked his fingers together over his middle and looked at her expressionlessly. “Not my fight. Why don’t you take a quick look inside me, psychic. Then say that again.”

Sarah didn’t intend to do it, but by now it really was like using another of her senses, like turning her head to listen or moving her eyes to watch: virtually automatic and without conscious effort.

What she saw was like scenes of a movie flickering past rapidly, scenes with abrupt cuts and odd angles, sometimes with sound and sometimes without—but always with tearing emotions. As she had with Leigh, she saw violence and danger and lost friends, but Brodie had lost much more than that. He had lost part of himself, and it had left him filled with rage and grief and a deadly, implacable determination to defeat the other side.

Sarah pulled herself out of the dark fury of his mind, more shaken than she had ever been before. She opened her eyes slowly and looked at him, at that handsome, expressionless face and those sentry eyes, and wondered how he could keep going when he was carrying around with him such a terrible burden of pain.

“Because I have to,” he said softly. Then he looked at Leigh, and added in a more normal voice, “You’re right. She’s damned powerful. And she can send. Her voice was so clear in my mind it was as if I heard it out loud.”

Sarah looked away from him, still shaken and conscious once more of what looking into another mind had taken out of her. She found Cait watching her and, even weary and not much interested, she saw a flicker of jealousy in the younger woman’s eyes.

She didn’t like me in Brodie’s mind. I wonder if he knows…

She kept those thoughts to herself, wondering for the first time whether it was even possible for her, now, to shut off that other sense.

“Sarah, you need to eat something. We all do.” Leigh looked at her watch. “It’s suppertime anyway. You stay here and rest a bit, and we’ll get something started in the kitchen. Then we’ll talk about what we’re going to do. All right?”

Sarah nodded. “Brodie?”

He looked at her as he rose to his feet. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

He smiled slightly. “Don’t worry about it.”

He and the others went into the kitchen and very soon were working together to prepare the meal. Brodie gathered the ingredients for a salad and began chopping vegetables, and when he spoke to Leigh, it was in a low voice.

“That took a lot out of her. And I was wide open, not fighting at all. What happens when somebody fights her?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is she strong enough for this?”

Leigh shook her head. “I just don’t know. If she can borrow some of Tucker’s strength…if she gets mad enough, or scared enough…if she finally believes that she can change the future she saw for herself…then maybe.”

Brodie grunted. “We’d better come up with a hell of a plan.”

“Is Murphy close by?”

“Close enough. Figure we’ll need her?”

“Her. And an army, if we can raise one.”

FIFTEEN

Cait felt very much like the new kid on the block. Brodie and Leigh had worked together before and were comfortable despite their differing beliefs on some topics; they didn’t consciously shut her out, it was just that they were long accustomed to discussing things between themselves.

And Cait was conscious of her own inexperience, her lack of history in this. She was a new recruit, actively involved for only the last six months; her brother had been one of those people who became psychic because of head injuries in the last year or so, and it had been Brodie who had contacted him and made sure the other side didn’t get their hands on him.

During those dangerous and exciting weeks, Cait had decided that she wanted to work with these people. Brodie had been reluctant, telling her she was too young and should finish college before deciding what to do with her life, but she had been determined—and he’d had to admit they could not afford to turn down anyone who wanted to help. Besides, there was someone else Brodie reported to, someone who made certain decisions, and that person had decided that Cait could be of use.

She didn’t know who that was. Truth to tell, she knew blessed little about how this loosely organized group of people operated. According to Brodie, the number of people who knew most of the details could be counted on the fingers of one hand. As for the rest, they knew what they needed to know, and not a single detail more than that.

Which was fine for Brodie; unless Cait missed her guess, he was one of those few who knew everything. And his history with the group went back several years, possibly as many as ten. Cait wasn’t sure about that, but she knew he’d been involved in this for a long time. And though he didn’t talk about it—to her, at least—she had guessed that he was in this because something bad had happened to somebody he’d loved.

Of course, Sarah knew all about that. She had looked into his mind minutes ago, accepting his open invitation to do so, and she had seen all his pain. It had been on her face when she was done, a reflection of great anguish, and in her peculiarly dark eyes had been sadness and compassion and understanding.