Recognition struck. “You’re the man who disappeared after you went to your father’s funeral.”
His brows lowered as he drew an arm across his mouth, wiping away some of the blood that stained his lips and chin. His nose bore a lump that hadn’t been present in his picture and began to swell as she stared at him. “How did you know that?”
“I saw your file.” She looked at the others. “You’re sure Aidan wasn’t brought in with me? He’s about this tall”—she held her hand high above her head—“muscular, and has a Scottish accent.”
Phil shook his head. “Sorry. The door was open long enough for them to dump you in here with us, but all I saw was a bunch of military grunts. I’m Phil, by the way.” He jerked a thumb at the man beside him. “This is Grant. And the long, tall Texan you took down is Rick.”
She nodded, trying hard not to weep as fear for Aidan pummeled her. “I’m Dana.” She motioned to Rick. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I saw you looming over me and thought…”
He smiled. “You thought we were the ones who took you.”
“Something like that.”
Phil took a step forward. “You keep mentioning Gershom. Or thinking his name, I mean. Who is he?”
A sudden impulse drove her to look up at the ceiling, at the corners, and around the small room.
“What is it?” Rick asked, following her gaze.
She lowered her voice. “Are there cameras? Are they watching us or listening to us?”
Grant shook his head. “I’ve gone over every centimeter of this damned cell, looking for a weak point or anything that would enable us to escape, and found no cameras or mics.”
Holding on to the toothbrush like a talisman, Dana returned to the bed upon which she had awoken and perched on the edge. “Gershom is the one who took us.”
Rick scowled. “Who is he? What does he want with us?”
She shook her head helplessly. “To use us as pawns.”
“I told you,” Phil declared with triumph. “I told you the military just views us as tools!”
Rick nodded somberly. “Yes, you did, Phil. And I totally agree. You are a tool.”
Grant laughed.
Dana would have, too, if they were anywhere but there. “What are your gifts?” she asked Grant and Rick.
Rick looped his arms around bent knees and linked his fingers. “I know this is going to sound corny sci-fi, but I’m an empath.”
“You felt my emotions when we touched?”
He nodded. “Including your grief. I’m sorry about your friend Aidan. Maybe this Gershom fucker didn’t kill him. Maybe Aidan survived.”
She nodded, unable to speak for a moment. When she could, she nodded to Grant. “And you? What’s your gift?”
His lips turned up in a self-deprecating smile. “I can find missing people.”
She stared. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Ironic, right?” His chuckle held no mirth. “I can locate a missing person if I touch an object they held shortly before their disappearance. I was looking for a woman from Fresno who had gone missing and ended up going missing myself.”
“That’s messed up,” Dana said.
“Yeah. It is.”
A strained silence engulfed them.
Rick eyed Dana curiously. “So, what’s the deal with the vampires in your head? Are you loco in la cabeza or what?”
She smiled. “I’m not crazy.”
Phil nodded. “I tried to tell him as much, but the things I saw in your memories are pretty hard to believe.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Are they as hard to believe as a telepath, an empath, a whatever-you-call-Grant and a psychic being kidnapped by the United States military?”
The men shared a look.
“Exactly,” she said.
Rick tilted his head to one side. “You’re psychic? You can see the future?”
Dana nodded. “When I touch someone and focus my gift, I get glimpses of their future. And sometimes of their past and present.”
Rick extended his hand. “Can you tell me if I’m going to get out of here alive?”
Dana hesitated, afraid of what she might see in Rick’s—in everyone’s—future. But it might help them find a way out of there.
Rising, she slipped the toothbrush up her sleeve, then moved closer and rested her right hand in Rick’s. His light brown eyes met and held hers as he curled his long fingers around hers.
Nothing happened. Nothing came to her.
Covering their clasped hands, Dana slowly rotated her left hand over his and slid it up his forearm to the bend of his elbow, which bore a Band-Aid. She drew her hand back to his wrist, then stroked his forearm again… and suddenly saw him kneeling over a soldier, tugging off the man’s military uniform.
Her eyes widened.
“What?” Rick asked.
The vision vanished.
Her lips turned up in a slow smile.
Rick’s did, too.
A thunk sounded.
They glanced at the door.
“Oh shit,” Phil muttered from across the cell. “They’re probably coming to take you to the lab.”
The door swung open. Two soldiers faced them, weapons raised and pointing at Dana and the others.
One soldier curled his lip at Rick. “What, are you fucking proposing?”
The second soldier motioned to Rick with the tip of his weapon. “Get up, back away, and turn to face the wall. The docs want to see her.”
Releasing her hand, Rick slowly rose and eased back toward the wall.
Phil and Grant stood, then did the same.
“Face the wall,” the second soldier repeated.
The three men faced the wall, exchanging glances.
The first soldier motioned to Dana with the tip of his weapon. “Now you. Up against the wall.”
Dana turned toward the wall. When she took a step, she faked a limp and stumbled to one side.
Soldier One jerked forward. “Hands in the air! Hands in the air!”
Rick spun around. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don’t shoot!”
Soldier One turned his weapon on Rick.
Phil, can you hear me? Dana thought.
Yeah.
Soldier Two kept his weapon trained on Dana.
She stumbled another step and reached out to grasp the edge of the sink, ostensibly for balance. Tell them I’m injured.
“She’s injured, damn it!” Rick shouted over Soldier One’s threats, catching on before Phil could come to her aid. “Cut her some fucking slack!”
Phil spun around, hands in the air. “Easy! Easy! She’s hurt! They fucked up her ankle when they brought her in!”
Rick jerked back when Soldier One advanced on them menacingly, still barking threats. “Okay! Okay!” he shouted back. “I just didn’t want you to shoot her, for fuck’s sake! I think she’s got a couple of broken ribs, too.”
Soldier Two took a step inside, eyeing the growing tension between Soldier One and the three male prisoners. “Face the wall!” he called. “All of you! Face the wall! Hands where we can see ’em!”
Dana took another limping step, sliding her hand over to cover the bar of soap as she leaned on the sink for support. Gripping the soap, she dropped her arm to her side and lunged for the wall.
A muffled thud sounded behind her.
Had Soldier One struck one of the guys?