Whispers in the Dark (KGI #4)(62)

“Andrea and Brandon were appalled at the treatment Grace and I received. It wasn’t that we were being tortured or beaten or abused, but we were treated as test subjects, not babies. It was all very cold. We were fed and our basic needs seen to, but little else. We endured endless testing and experimentation. In one entry, Andrea recounted that Grace was purposely cut with a knife to gauge my reaction. Conversely, I was also injured to test Grace’s ability to heal me. And they logged the results, analyzed them, brainstormed ways of utilizing our abilities in a military setting.”

“What the hell did they expect you to be able to accomplish?” Ethan demanded.

Shea glanced at Nathan’s brother. He was bigger than both Donovan and Nathan. Taller, broader shouldered. Black hair and startling blue eyes. Nathan was slightly taller than Donovan, but he had a similar build. Lean and muscular. Donovan was a bit heavier, but Shea guessed that under normal circumstances Nathan would have been bulkier. His body was still carved by the time he’d spent imprisoned and nearly starved.

Nathan’s hair was lighter than Donovan’s and his eyes were dark brown. Donovan’s were green, mesmerizing for the odd shade. Not lighter, but not emerald either.

Alone, one of them was enough to intimidate the most fearsome person. Together? They were formidable.

Her gaze drifted to Swanny, her thoughts momentarily interrupted by her analysis of the men she’d now place her trust in. Her heart wrenched. He was tall and lean. Almost haggard in appearance. His cheeks were hollow and his skin was stretched tight over his bones. And the scars on his face were still puckered and raw looking, even months after his rescue. They would take time to heal. They’d never disappear, but with time some of the redness would fade and they wouldn’t look quite so vivid or angry.

She very nearly reached for his hand, but curled her fingers into a fist instead. He wouldn’t appreciate her pity, and how did you pity a man who’d survived hell? You didn’t pity him. You admired him.

“Shea,” Nathan prompted softly.

She flinched, embarrassed at how she’d drifted. She tried to focus her thoughts again. She seemed to be drifting in a sea of confusion, anger and heart sickness.

She glanced back up at Ethan and bit at her bottom lip. Her stomach clenched and she couldn’t explain the sudden nerves or the panic creeping up her spine.

Baby, take deep breaths. I’m here. I know this is a lot to deal with. We’ll do it together.

The loving, soothing voice in her head sent waves of comfort through her veins. She visibly relaxed and sent Nathan a look of gratitude. His brothers glanced sharply at Nathan as if they were aware that something had transpired between him and Shea, but they didn’t know what.

Again she refocused on Ethan. “I’m sorry,” she said in a quiet, even voice. She was proud of the fact that her voice no longer sounded choked or full of tears. She was determined to get through this.

Ethan’s expression softened. He looked like he wanted to reach out and take her hand or offer a gesture of comfort. It seemed odd, because he appeared so aloof. All business.

“Take your time, Shea. I know this has to be difficult for you.”

She nodded. “To answer your question, again, according to Andrea’s journal, there were several possibilities the organization that funded the research wanted to explore. Remote healing for one. Having someone far removed from the dangers of war or battle with the ability to heal through a psychic link.”

“Holy hell, is that even possible?” Donovan asked.

Swanny nodded, injecting himself into the conversation for the first time. Then he glanced sideways at Shea. “Was it you or your sister inside me, when I was so injured?”

“It was Grace,” Shea whispered. “I didn’t have a connection to you. Only Nathan. Nathan and I were the conduits to

you.”

“That’s incredible,” Donovan muttered. “Jesus, I can see why they’re so hot to track you and your sister down. Can you imagine what this would mean? You’d basically have an indestructible fighting force. They’d go down and then get right back up.”

Shea shook her head. “It’s faulty. All of it. It takes a terrible toll on Grace. I doubt she’d be able to heal more than one person at a time, and if the wounds were mortal, they could kill her. Even if they didn’t, she’d be too weak, too devastated, to continue on. And I can’t even heal, which makes Grace the more valuable commodity. I have no doubt they’re after us both, but it only makes sense they’d want what Grace has to offer more.”

Ethan ran a hand through his hair. “This sounds like some freaky sci-fi movie. No offense, Shea.”

She nodded sadly. “It does, doesn’t it? Imagine finding out your entire life is one of those freaky sci-fi movies.”

“So you can’t heal?” Donovan asked.

“No. I can’t even control my telepathy. I heard Nathan. But why not Swanny? Why not everyone else? It’s frustrating. I’ll hear someone out of the blue. They may not even be in danger. It could be perfectly normal. Someone summarizing a grocery list. Or someone in need. Someone sad. Happy.”

“It sounds pretty damn awful,” Ethan said grimly. “How the hell do you deal with that? It would make me crazy.”

“But you did heal,” Donovan said, his brow creasing in concentration. “You were a conduit for Grace. I’d say that makes you every bit as valuable as Grace.”