Page 36 of Tortured

The night is perfect camouflage for work. The other guys are already at their posts, staking out the estate we are to infiltrate.

I tilt my face up to the downpour. The day was sweltering. The bugs bothersome. When the skies opened up, I welcomed it.

“You about ready to move?” Riahn asks. “I told them in five.”

“Always.” I’m so used to missions that timing when to act has become instinctual with our group. It may have been an emrys thing. I try to reconcile how I fit in. I learned that Riahn is still a half-emrys despite being possessed by a demon. I’m part human that can still hold bonds. Somehow, I believe the five of us are bonded together in a way—

Though no one wants to admit it. We can’t hear each other’s thoughts, but we have a sense of each other’s emotions as any other emrys does.

Or I should say they do.

My abilities do not go as far as discerning emotions, yet my many talents continue to astound me. I smell the faintest whiff of perfume from across an acre. I smell animals when they draw near. The chemical trail of a fox in heat immediately makes me realize I smell more than what’s humanly possible. A brawl in a bar begins with a surge of adrenaline, which spikes the air and sets off alarms in my brain. When coy women try to entice me, I smell their seduction.

I see events before they happen. I figure this has something to do with the smell and when it hits me. Images swallow my mind. Before a punch makes contact with my jaw, I turn my head, having already seen it. Before a chair breaks over my back, I dive out of the way.

I probably shouldn’t follow Gilmar into bars anymore.

But the premonition thing is a help. Seconds before anyone moves, I see it happen.

A calmness sweeps over me. Unusual, since I’m used to the adrenaline that builds before a mission.

Riahn grabs my arm to signal that it’s time, but without warning, my vision splits. The night turns into a gray day. The downpour turns to a light, steady rain.

A sigh wraps around me, and my shoulders roll down. I hug myself as someone speaks behind me. “It was tough, but I got her down for a nap.”

I immediately recognize Owein’s carefree voice. He has a way of soothing me and stirring me at the same time.

I groan. Niawen has slipped into my head again. I’m living and feeling things as she does.

Pain usually brings her to me, but she isn’t experiencing pain, so why this time?

Owein leans in to rest his chin on my shoulder, but I bounce away, into the storm. I tilt my face up and let the rain wash over me. Soon I’m soaked from head to toe. I spin with my arms wide and laugh.

I feel Niawen’s nervousness as she twirls in the rain. Her heart races, forcing mine into a heavy canter.

And then Owein catches her hand. He turns her against his chest. They are both soaked.

There’s something sensual about being covered in rain. Something cleansing and enlivening at the same time.

And something immensely sensual about being in his arms…

Oh, by the Creator, no. I don’t want to see this.

Niawen and Owein stare into each other’s eyes. His blue eyes. They’re so bright and happy.

Oh, don’t show me his eyes, I mumble.

It has been nine months since Niawen’s labor. So I gathered she’s lived with Owein for at least that many months. Maybe more, depending on when they found each other. She was early in her pregnancy when we parted. I knew Owein was fond of her. Everyone who meets Niawen is fond of her.

That awful truth stares back at me as she looks into Owein’s eyes.

She’s falling in love with him.

Now that her heart is free from Caedryn, she’s free to love.

I will not hold this against her. She has been living in fear for so long, and I can’t be there to protect her.

While Owein is.

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