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wouldn’t stay there for long, the way traffic was moving, but for the time being, I could see them.

“Okay. I see them.”

“Good. Now focus on the car. Get it in your mind. What it looks like.”

I stared at the car’s reflection in the glass, memorizing the details as much as possible. They were slowly passing under a street lamp, and I could see the figures inside as the light glinted off the dark paint.

“Now keep the image fixed in your head and close your eyes.” His voice was quiet and soft. “Open the hood and look at the engine. Picture it in your mind. See the wires running into it? The hoses? Reach out and wrap your hands around them. Feel them.”

“Are you kidding me?” My eyes popped open, and I turned to glare at him. “Who do you think you are? Yoda?” I jerked back around to check on the car only to see it had managed to close the gap between us by another car length.

“Taylor, he’s saying you can disable the car with your mind.” Mac checked his mirrors as he forced his way into the next lane, giving us a little breathing room. “Focus on it in your head and lay waste.”

“I can’t lay waste!” I snapped at him as irritated at his second use of my former name as I was frustrated with what they were asking me to do. “I don’t know where the wires are. Or the hoses! This isn’t magic, boys. I can’t just blink my eyes and it happens.”

Brown let out a heavy sigh from the back, and I barely managed to stop myself from turning around and throwing him out onto the highway. It wouldn’t hurt him much. We were barely moving after all.

“Do you think you know where the gas pedal is?” He was clearly as put out with me as I was with him. Ingrate. We had rescued him after all. Or had we? Suspicious and angry, it was everything I could do to listen to him. At this point, though, what did I have to lose, except the two cars following us. I unclenched my jaw and nodded and heard him lean back into his seat, satisfied.

“Okay then. Wait until you see him start moving forward and tromp down on the gas. Just picture his foot on the gas pedal and press it down. Hard.”

I focused my attention on the car in the right-hand lane and thought hard about that gas pedal, waiting for an opening. Suddenly it was there. The two cars in front of them peeled off onto an exit, giving them a big opening and a chance to gain ground on us. The moment he started moving forward, I mentally pushed his right foot to the floor. The resulting crash into the light pole as he tried to avoid the car suddenly in front of him was more than I could have hoped for.

“Whoa,” Jonas whistled from the back seat. “That did it. Hood’s up, and steam is pouring out.” He leaned forward in his seat to pat my shoulder. “Way to feel the force. Now how about the other one?”

It took two tries. Apparently, the driver had caught on to what was happening and was riding the brake, but I could picture a steering wheel as easily as the gas pedal and before he knew it, he’d driven into the median. It wasn’t great, but it was good enough. We were still tied up in traffic, but now there was a bigger jam building behind us and our tails were going nowhere fast.

I nodded to Mac as he inched his way closer to the accident up ahead and leaned back in the seat to rest. The pain was back behind my eyes, and my vision was starting to blur. The constant buzz that had been in my head since I woke Brown up was quickly becoming annoying, and my mind was swimming with the fact that there was an excellent chance that he was working against us.

The nudge on my shoulder woke me, and I glanced over to see Mac bob his head, motioning me to look out my window. We’d reached the accident. Traffic had necked down to a single lane, and we had a front row seat.

A semi had hit a car, pinning it under its wheels. Rescue teams had arrived and were working to get the car door open. As we drew alongside, I could see a body pinned to the steering wheel, and I watched in horror as a small hand fluttered deep inside the car.

We’d been stuck in traffic for over 20 minutes, and I had to assume they’d been working the whole time, trying to extricate the people trapped inside the wreck. I sat up in my seat, as I watched them move the pry bars to make another attempt, my mind frantic to find a way to help.

“Don’t do it, Taylor. You’re not ready for this.” I heard Brown’s warning from a distance, a dim echo in my head and chose to ignore it. Ready or not, they needed help, and they needed it now.

I focused my mind on the crumpled door, grabbed hold and pulled. The door flew open like it had been blown off. Suddenly, it was if I was inside the car, struggling to help free the child trapped in the back. I heard the creak of metal above me and knew it was too late. The weight was too much. We’d never get them out in time. I froze as I watched the metal around me begin to crumble and braced my mind against it.

“Sean, you need to move, you’re holding up traffic,” Jonas informed Mac. “The police are heading this way.”

The car suddenly shot forward as pain pierced through my brain, taking my breath away. I wrapped my arms around my head, trying to cushion the pain, even as I rocked in my seat in an effort to escape. I heard the sobs coming from my own throat and struggled to gain some form of control.

“Her nose is bleeding. Bad.” Mac’s voice echoed through the car.

“Get her back here.” It was Brown’s voice I heard, as hands fumbled at the belt buckle and dragged me out of the seat into the back of the van.

Instantly, hands clamped onto the bridge of my nose, pressing the veins, trying to slow the flow of blood. It was Brown.

“No!” I yelled as I knocked his hands away, scrambling to escape him.

“Taylor, stop it.” He grabbed my flailing hands, pinning them between us. “I’m on your side.” I managed to get a hand free and brought it up in a fist, intent on doing damage.

“Stop it!” He caught my fist again, and I was trapped, pinned to the back seat, helpless against him. I stopped fighting and gathering my thoughts, pushed out with what little strength I had left.

32

IT WAS PITCH black when I came to, and I laid still for a minute, trying to take in my surroundings. Drawing in a deep breath, I inhaled the scent of clean linen and instantly recognized the signature aroma of Mama D’s laundry soap. I sat up slowly and waited patiently for the room to quit spinning.

“Welcome back Sam. How’s your head?” The question came through the darkness, and I jumped before recognizing it was Mac who was in the room with me.

“So it’s back to Sam now, is it, Sean?” I was mumbling and groggy and not in a good mood. “My heads fine. I’m good. Except for you scaring me half to death lurking over there in the dark. I wish you’d quit sneaking up on me.” It sounded whiny even to me, and his snort of disbelief didn’t help. I threw a glare in his direction resentful that he was right, even though I knew he couldn’t see it in the dark. I wasn’t fine. My head felt like it was filled with cotton batting instead of brain tissue and threatened to fly off with every move I made.

“Wait. You’re serious, aren’t you?” He may not have been able to see me, but being able to sense my emotions was a dead giveaway. “You really don’t know when I’m around.”

“No. I don’t.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and waited for the room to quit spinning. “Just why is that anyway? You can sense me. I can sense Brown. I can communicate with both of you, but you can’t communicate with me, and I can’t sense you.” I could hear my voice going up in volume with each word, escalating quickly from merely whiny to near hysterics. I really needed to calm down.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was right next to me, close enough for me to feel his breath on my face before he laid his hand on my arm, instantly lowering my nerves to a manageable level. “I made an assumption, and I shouldn’t have. I don’t know why you can’t sense me. Can you sense anyone else?” I knew he was asking about Jonas and Trinity, and I shook my head. I didn’t get anything from them, but then I hadn’t really tried. Just assumed, like he had. “You should ask Brown.”

“I’m not asking Brown anything. I don’t like him.” I grimaced at that. Sad that being back to whiny was an improvement. “Why does he call you Sean?”

“That’s the name I go by at the Agency. I forgot to warn you about that.” He, at least, had the good grace to sound contrite. “It’s better that he keeps thinking of me that way and of you as Taylor. That’s the name he knows you by, and we should keep it that way until we know where he stands. You’ve established

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