The Unwanted (A Novella of the FBI Psychics) by Shiloh Walker Page B

sidelong look. “I figured that. If they had, we wouldn’t be here, would we?”
    Sighing, he dipped a hand into his pocket to touch the ID Oz had provided for him. It would get them around on campus, but it wasn’t going to open any doors if they had to ask questions. His Bureau ID wasn’t going to help there either, because unless he had a reason to be there, people weren’t as likely to talk.
    In a smaller town, maybe. And it was always possible he could find a few people who’d talk out of curiosity, but the people who would have the answers weren’t the ones who’d answer questions just for the hell of it.
    “If you keep staring so hard at that cop car, somebody is going to notice,” Destin pointed out.
    He cut a look her way and grimaced. “Sorry. Trying to figure out how to handle this. It’s new territory for me.”
    “Wow. You mean there’s something you’re not perfectly equipped to handle?” She blinked at him as she slowed to a stop in front of a storefront. “What exactly do you suppose makes your clothes fabulously British or un-British?”
    Caleb shot a look at the display in the window. “If that’s fabulously British, then I’m going to be forever unfabulous.”
    Somebody bumped into him.
    Just one of those accidental bumps…a rush of images swelled inside his head and he whipped around to stare, the movement automatic even though it was useless.
    A girl on the ground. Struggling. Hands gripping her wrists while a man laughed. Grunts, more laughter, a little ragged this time, while the girl whimpered. She went to scream, but it was cut off by a cruel hand against her mouth.
    The images flooded him, drowned him.
    And as quick as they came on, they were gone.
    Whenever he did have a solid connection, it always hit him like this—just like this. Too insubstantial for him to link on, like trying to grip cotton candy, and it was already fading away.
    “Caleb?”
    Her hand touched his and he heard her quick, startled breath, followed by her hand closing around his wrist as he dropped his shields. She had already done the same.
    He couldn’t process this the way Destin could but they merged their abilities too late. It was already gone.
    “Where did he go?” she asked, her fingers still gripping his arm.
    Still trying to clear his head, Caleb turned his head and stared. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice tight and rusty while a headache started to pulse at the base of his skull.
    “ Damn it.” Destin shot him a narrow look. “You up for a walk?”
    He grimaced. “Doesn’t matter if I am or not.”
    A look flickered across her face as she studied him and then she reached into her pocket, pulled out a little tin box. “Here. Tylenol. I expected I’d need them, not you.”
    He took a couple and tossed them back dry as they started to walk. “We’re looking for a needle in a haystack here,” he said. There was still an annoying tightness in his throat and the headache was swelling to massive proportions. Pressing the heel of his hand to his eye socket, he dodged a group of laughing girls and met back up with Destin as she stopped at a crosswalk.
    “Yes.”
    Maybe he was off-balance from the connection. Maybe it was from the headache. Or maybe he needed to see a reaction from Destin, he didn’t know. But he looked over at her and instead of trying to find a subtle way to say it, he just threw it out there. “You know, we might be able to work this a lot faster if your boss wasn’t holding back on us.”
    Her spine went straight and tight. Slowly, she turned her head to look at him, her mouth flattened out into a thin, flat line. Her eyes flashed cold fire at him. “Excuse me?”
    “She’s hiding something.”
    “Oz knows how we work,” she said coldly. “She’s given us everything we need to do our job.”
    The kid next to them looked at them strangely and Caleb moved in, grabbing her arm. “Keep it down.”
    She jerked her arm away. “Kiss my ass.” Spinning on her