Inhuman Read Free Page A

slowed… and slowed… and faded away.

Chapter 2
    IT was the sobbing that woke her. Kai hung in the blurred state between sleep and waking, eyes closed, hearing the wash of rain drained of its earlier frenzy, the wail of her neighbor's Siamese cat, and the sobbing: Deep sobs, bereft of hope, aching with a terrible loneliness.
    And familiar. She'd heard this before, in other dreams. Oh, sweetheart — there now, you aren't alone, I'm here. I'm …
    Her eyes opened. The sound of that terrible sorrow died, but the colors of it lingered for a second in alien shapes of black and silver before dissolving.
    Kai sat up, shaken. She'd brought those thoughts back with her. That had never happened before. And she never experienced the emotions connected to thoughts.
    Was her lie somehow coming true? Was she was turning into an empath as well as a weird-ass telepath?
    That fear, put into words, sounded so silly she was able to set it aside. She'd been asleep, after all—normal sleep, not in-sleep; the trance state never lasted more than a couple hours. She'd connected with someone's thoughts, but her dreaming mind must have translated colors and shapes to conjure the experience of grief instead of the sight of it.
    Could it have been Nathan's mind she'd touched?
    She frowned, not liking the idea. She'd caught such a quick glimpse of those thoughts… for some reason they hadn't struck her as human, but she wasn't sure why. Nathan was lonely, though. Deeply so. That was one reason she'd reached out to him when they first met, both of them out running in the early morning.
    That, and his incredible thighs. And shoulders. And…
    And that was enough of that sort of thinking. She shook her head at herself and glanced at the red numerals on her clock, bought because the numbers were big enough for her to read them without contacts or glasses.
    Two-ten.
    Well, shit. She grimaced and reached for her glasses. No point in trying to go back to sleep. The in-sleep state rested her deeply, and with a couple hours of real sleep on top of it, her tank was topped off. She might as well read for awhile.
    Someone pounded on her door.
    What the… it couldn't be good news, not at this hour. Kai swung out of bed, heart pounding, mentally sorting through various disasters as she hurried to her living area.
    The police, arriving with some terrible news? A drank? A neighbor with an emergency?
    Her last guess was right, she saw as she neared the door. Patterns clung to it, coining from the person on the other side—patterns she recognized.
    Nathan. And pain. She fumbled with the locks, swung the door open, and let in a rush of cold, wet air.
    The man standing in the puddle of yellow light from her porch light didn't move. He was on the lanky side of lean with a long face, black hair, and weathered skin that suggested native or Hispanic blood, though his features were Anglo. His clothes were dark and dripping. No jacket. He was cradling his left arm with his right, but she didn't see any blood.
    "Nathan. Come in. What—No, come in first, then tell me."
    "There's a bullet in my shoulder."
    "An ambulance. I'll call… or do you want me to take you to the hospital? I'll get my coat." Keys. She needed her keys. She turned.
    "Eh." One long arm reached out and stopped her. "No hospital. I don't want that. Will you take the bullet out?"
    Her mouth gaped. She shut it. "I'm a physical therapist, not a doctor. Certainly not a surgeon."
    "I don't need a surgeon. You know how a body is put together."
    "I don't know how to—" She heard her voice rising and shut herself up, took a breath, and said more quietly, "I can at least clean it and wrap some gauze around it. Come inside."
    "I shouldn't have bothered you." He turned.
    This time she grabbed his arm. " In , dammit."
    He looked down at her hand, then up at her face, and smiled a singularly sweet smile. That was typical. Nathan's smiles were rare, but each arrived as a new discovery, invented on the spot. "Yes,