Bound by Blood (The Garner Witch Series) Read Free Page A

wouldn’t have had another chance to be alone, I decided to stretch out my senses and see if I could read anything from the victim. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, concentrating on calming my nerves.
    I was accustomed to guarding myself from the onslaught of everyday emotions, so I had to go through a mental exercise to remove the psychic shields I’d erected. In my mind’s eye, I slowly began to peel the force field away from my body, and as I pulled it away, I drew it into myself until there was nothing left. Once I removed the last remnant of the shield, I opened my eyes. Suddenly, I crumpled to the floor, gasping for air. It felt as though I’d been knocked over by a tidal wave.
    I couldn’t breathe.
     

Chapter 2
    Undiluted panic erupted inside me. My mind frantically fought to understand how I could be perfectly fine one minute, and then struggling to breathe the next. Then a fleeting thought allowed me to gradually calm myself. Did the oxygen suddenly vanish from the room? Logic dictated no. So, why was I all of a sudden gasping for air? Once I started to think rationally, my trepidation ebbed and I realized I actually could breathe. There was air in the room, but there was something else as well.
    There are thousands of nerve endings in the human body, and every single one of mine had just sparked to life. Frissons of static skittered across my skin, and an electrical current hung heavy around me, like a thick cloying fog, overwhelming me with its oppressiveness. It was then I realized this was what caused my initial panic, giving me the feeling I couldn’t breathe.
    As I regained my equanimity, I berated myself for the moment of weakness. 
    “You all right in here?” Morrison popped his head into the room.
    Still panting heavily, I lied. “I’m fine. Asthma.”
    “If you need to leave, I can handle this alone.” Surprisingly, he made the offer with genuine concern.
    With my shields down, I could sense Agent Morrison’s emotions with perfect clarity. He was annoyed about having me as a partner—not that I needed psychic abilities to ferret out that little tidbit—but there was more. As he glanced at the body, I was taken aback by his reaction, especially considering his callous comment when he first saw her.
    If an emotion was particularly sharp, it emitted an aura. It didn’t happen often, but right then I saw a dark mustard color radiating from Agent Morrison’s heart.
    Grief.
    Something about this woman brought out a deep seated grief within him. His glib comments and rude behavior was an act, a performance to mask his real emotions.
    I suddenly felt less irritated with my new partner. This case affected him too, and if anyone understood the need for defenses in this line of work, it was me.
    “You go ahead and finish what you were doing out there,” I said sympathetically, deciding to cut him a bit of slack. Apparently, there was more to Agent Morrison than I’d originally suspected.
    He looked at me and cocked his head slightly, confused by the sudden tenderness lacing my tone. Then, as if he knew he’d let his mask slip, I watched with fascination as the colorful aura receded, his defenses slamming back in place.
    “Fine. If you think you can avoid a heart attack, I’ll leave you to it,” he said gruffly, leaving me alone again. 
    Once I ensured my composure was intact, I edged closer to the woman. I knelt down beside the bed and looked into her eerily familiar eyes one more time. I felt vulnerable and exposed, but I reached out to her anyway and allowed the link to her emotions to form.
    It’s true what people say about tension—it hangs in the air, leaving such a powerful impression that even someone with no psychic abilities can feel the remnants after an intense argument. At a murder scene, the emotions are even more compelling, and they tend to linger.
    I was able to link to her final emotion, and I could sense it with crystal clarity. Unfortunately, the revelation did