Dream Shard by Mary Wine Page A

Forces more than Sonya or Grace. He fit in with the male members of his escort and maybe it was fitting that he’d died with them. The emotions bleeding off of Garrick Gennaro were thick with rage and regret. He was holding back a wave of intense feelings that just might drown him when he ran out of strength.
    But Grace still couldn’t bring herself to say Devon was lucky. He’d had rough blows in his life, but being gone seemed a terrible waste. The baby inside her moved, threatening to send tears down her cheeks as she recalled just how close she’d come to being the first among them to die in the line of duty. Devon had left no one.
    At least no one who knew he was related to them.
    For a moment, she considered the secret he’d left behind. She was the only one among those he’d lived with who knew he had a daughter, and that was only because he hadn’t been able to shield his thoughts completely from her.
    It wasn’t her secret to tell. She’d understood his reasons for making sure his daughter wasn’t known to the military. In fact, Grace agreed with many of those reasons. Being a female Operative was a harsh life, one that had already driven two of their number to suicide.
    But that wouldn’t matter. No, not a bit. If any of the officers running the psychic branch found out Devon had left behind a child, they’d stop at nothing to obtain her. They’d find some way to twist their data into a convincing picture of the odds being better if they were able to train her young.
    There were times the black-market thugs and her own commanding officers had a great deal in common. Grace caught one watching her from across the road. His gaze settled on her distended belly. He was already calculating when her unborn son might begin testing. Unlike her and Sonya and Devon, her sons would know no life beyond being Operatives.
    She just wasn’t completely sure if it was the right path. Maybe they would never know the frustrations she had or maybe she was robbing them of a normal childhood.
    No, she wouldn’t tell Devon’s secret. His daughter would grow up with stuffed animals on her bed and maybe a nightlight, not the scratchy wool blankets of a barracks and a location-beacon armband.
    Maybe he’d rest in peace.
    He’d earned it.
    It wasn’t the first time he’d caused a woman’s death.
    Devon felt the icy touch of a memory, one that was so devastating he hurt without even recalling the details. Only the rage that had flooded him as he’d looked into a face that stared sightlessly into the night sky.
    Heather.
    No…Kalin.
    The memory was enticing. But he needed to focus on the moment. Even without the details of his past, he sensed one thing—he’d have plenty of time to wallow in despair later.
    The cabin came into view and he forced himself to stop and scan the road in front of the house. Charging out into the open was a good way to get himself recaptured.
    He didn’t bother to worry about being killed. Surviving didn’t necessarily mean he was lucky.
    No, it meant he was left with the memory of how knowing him had been fatal to another woman.
    The birds were calling to one another as they searched for food. He watched them for a moment before moving across the road. Wildlife would always tell you when there were humans moving nearby.
    He took the steps in one stride before opening the door and scanning the cabin. His blood chilled as he caught sight of one of Kalin’s feet. The sole of her boot was caked with the soft soil that surrounded the pool. It was dry now and falling onto her kitchen floor.
    The bottle of prescription pills was still on the counter. He refused to let it keep him from trying to help her. She was lying on the floor, looking like a broken doll. He knelt beside her, slipping his hand along her neck to search for her pulse. The tiny throb beneath his fingers was a relief, but he knew it didn’t mean she was going to survive.
    Still, it was better than a bullet to the brain.
    The scent