Soul Whisperer Read Free Page A

so there could be no mistake. “I touch the dead.”
    â€œYour aura already told me that.”
    He waited for the condemnation he had faced every day since he first learned of his awful gift. But still she said nothing more.
    â€œIt’s unclean. I’m unclean because I touch the dead.”
    She screwed up her face as if tasting something sour. “But that doesn’t make sense. Touching the dead is natural, isn’t it? How else would we consume prey or bury a loved one?”
    Cesar’s jaw actually dropped.
    â€œAre you teasing me, about the unclean thing?” she asked.
    It took a moment to comprehend that she might not know, might not understand how it was with him. Was she really ignorant of the stigma endured by Soul Whisperers? Still he could not quite believe his ears.
    Cesar brushed a thumb along her high cheek and still could not read her thoughts, but he did feel her emotions—curiosity and confusion, but no disgust. He’d never read emotions before.
    He sensed that she knew the truth and still she did not turn away in revulsion or shy from his touch.
    How remarkable.

Chapter 2
    S ilence stretched between them as Bess stared at the Soul Whisperer who stood glaring at her. Was his hatred for her kind so strong, or was this a very personal chip on his shoulder? If he was teasing her about the unclean thing, he didn’t show it. He looked deadly serious and seemed to be trying to size her up as she engaged in the same activity.
    His people were different from hers, so it was not surprising that they did not understand each other.
    â€œAre you going to watch me?” he asked.
    â€œIs it safe?”
    He nodded. “But no one ever watched before.”
    She lifted one shoulder. “First time for everything.”
    â€œI’ll blank out for a few moments.”
    She glanced about the forest, her keen eyes checking for any threat. She listened intently, but she heard only the gentle rustle of the wind in the branches andthe scurry of ground squirrels about their business. Nowhere could she sense any danger. Her search concluded, she returned her attention to the son of Niyan.
    â€œI’ll watch your back, then.”
    His eyebrows lifted again, then fell, low and dangerous over his narrowing eyes. “Since when does a Skinwalker protect a Spirit Child?”
    She motioned toward the body. “Common interest.”
    He made no move toward the corpse. “Is this a trick to escape me?”
    She laughed. “No one holds a raven, unless she wants to be held. If I wished to escape, I’d already be gone.”
    There was that uncertain expression again as if he did not know what to believe. He apparently made up his mind because he gave the slightest nod of his chin, spun and then stalked to the body. Bess had witnessed many gruesome sights and tried to convince herself that this was no different. But it was, because of the body’s resemblance to her mother.
    Her mother’s death had been sudden, accidents usually were, and even her father’s special gifts could not save her. It seemed cruel that a man who could see the future of complete strangers could not foresee the day he would kiss his wife for the last time. Bess had been there, witnessed her mother’s death and been equally helpless to prevent her passing. All she could do was hold her mother as she died. Could that really be over a hundred years ago now? Still her chest filled with a hollow ache that made it difficult to draw an even breath.
    She swallowed back the knot that squeezed her throat, determined to keep her face placid and remain as still as the silent giants surrounding them. The redwoods endured and so could she. When she glanced at the Niyanoka, she found him studying her again.
    â€œYou don’t have to watch,” he said.
    â€œI know.”
    Still he did not touch the body, waiting.
    â€œWho have you lost?”
    â€œIs it so obvious?”
    His