Blood Game

Blood Game Read Free

Book: Blood Game Read Free
Author: Iris Johansen
Tags: Suspense, Thrillers
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toddler, Bonnie had loved to share a song with Eve. Eve would sing the first line, and Bonnie would sing the next. “What’s it to be tonight?”
    “ ‘All the Pretty Little Horses.’ ” She turned around on Eve’s lap and hugged her with all her might. “I love you, Mama.”
    Eve’s arms closed around her. Bonnie’s riot of curls was soft and fragrant against her cheek, and her small body was endearingly vital and sturdy against Eve. Lord, she was lucky. “I love you, too, Bonnie.”
    Bonnie let her go and flopped back around to cuddle in the curve of her arm. “You start, Mama.”
    “Hushabye, don’t you cry,” Eve sang softly.
    Bonnie’s thin little voice chimed. “Go to sleep, little baby.”
    The moment was so precious, so dear. Eve’s arms held Bonnie closer and she could feel the tightening of her throat as she sang. “When you wake, you shall have . . .”
    Bonnie’s voice was only a wisp of sound. “All the pretty little horses . . .”
    EVE’S HEAD SANK DOWN TO rest on the steering wheel. Get a grip. She couldn’t sit here and wallow in the past. So her life right now seemed to be going down the tubes. She had to go on. She had to deal with the problem with Joe. She had to pick up Jane from the airport.
    She lifted her head and started the car.
    And she had to try to block out that bittersweet memory that was still echoing in her mind and heart.
    All the pretty little horses . . .
    “DAMMIT, I’VE MISSED YOU so much.” Eve gave Jane a hug before releasing her. “How dare you look as beautiful as if you’d spent the night at a spa. After that international trip, you should be haggard and rumpled. I always am.”
    “I’m rumpled, but I got a new haircut in Paris that makes it look fashionable.” She glanced at the revolving baggage carousel. “I think I see my duffel. I’ll be right back.” She sprinted toward it.
    So much energy, Eve thought. Jane was the complete package: beauty, talent, and a loving nature that didn’t preclude a streak of pure iron. She had graduated from college only two years ago and was already making her name as an artist in the galleries of the U.S. and Europe. It had been a blessing that Eve and Joe had been able to take Jane into their home when she was a street kid. She had enriched their lives then and now. It was a shining—
    Her cell phone rang. Joe? she thought as she pulled her phone out of her handbag. Let it be Joe.
    Megan Blair. She smothered her disappointment. It had to be important. Yet she still was wary to take the call. Megan’s psychic gifts were undoubtedly genuine, but Eve had wanted to distance herself for a while. And why on earth was she calling at this hour of the morning?
    “Eve, are you okay?” Megan Blair’s voice vibrated with urgency as Eve picked up the call. “Dear God, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that—Is everything all right with you?”
    “What are you talking about?” Eve glanced at Jane, who was pulling her black duffel off the carousel. “Everything’s fine. I’m just picking Jane up at the airport. She flew in from Paris tonight.”
    “Good. Someone’s with you. Tell her not to leave you.”
    “I’ll tell her no such thing. Why should I?”
    “It’s this damn facilitator thing. I thought you were safe. I was unconscious, so I thought the emotion wouldn’t trigger anything.”
    “You’re not making yourself clear, Megan.”
    “I’ll try to slow down.” She took a deep breath. “Remember I told you that I had this other gift. Gift? No, that’s not the word. So far it’s been mostly a curse. Anyway, when I’m experiencing extreme emotion, it’s dangerous for me to touch anyone.”
    “Yes, I noticed you treated everyone as if they had the plague.”
    “It’s because I facilitate. Whatever latent psychic gift the person I touch possesses becomes active. Mind reading, healing, finding . . . whatever. But that sudden freeing of the psychic talent can be too much for some minds.”
    “Madness.

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