Page 44 of The Shadows of Excess

Damon crossed his arms, unconvinced. “That wasn’t Mom.”

“Or she could have been an aura reader, seeing the energy fields around people and supernaturals, interpreting their colors to understand health, personality, or spiritual state,” Justice continued.

I pondered this. “I don’t remember Mom ever doing anything like that.” I turned to Damon. “You?”

“Nope.”

Justice wasn’t deterred. “Then there’s psychometry. It’s when someone can pick up an object and know its history or things about the people who’ve touched it. Did your mom ever show signs of that?”

That was when memories started flooding back. I glanced at Damon, noticing his expression mirroring my dawning realization. I remembered Mom touching objects and simply…knowing things. As kids, we had thought it was a quirk, never considering she might be psychic.

Could I actually be a psychic, too? Why didn’t Dad tell us about Mom?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. I sat on the edge of the bed, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The revelation that I might be psychic—like Mom might have been—hung over me like a dense fog.

I gazed at my hands, half-expecting them to reveal some hidden clue or to suddenly start glowing with unearthly energy. But they were only my hands, ordinary and unremarkable. Psychic. The word echoed in my mind, both fascinating and terrifying.

The problem was I wasn’t sure what kind of psychic I was. All I knew was I had these flashlight eyes and saw visions. Could I really have inherited this from Mom? The more I thought about it, the more confused I got.

I stood and paced the room. It was one thing to face demons and vampires. At least they were known entities in our world of supernatural chaos. But this was uncharted territory, a journey into the depths of my being that I never anticipated.

“What kind of psychic am I?” I mumbled out loud, not really talking to anyone.

Damon pulled his lips into a teasing smile. “Is there a flashlight-eyed psychic?”

I stopped and glared. “Damon.”

“I believe the witch Lisa will be able to determine what your abilities are.”

Damon frowned. “Why not the Wizard of Oz?”

Justice held my gaze. “Because Dr. Gould thinks Sawyer’s eyes have something to do with Lisa’s phoenix. He thinks you need to trust your instincts.”

“My instincts? What does that mean?”

He tapped his temple. “You have the answer in your visions. That’s how we’ll find Lisa.”

I threw up my arms. “How? When the images flash in my mind, I get sick.” I couldn’t keep the frustration and defeat from my voice.

His fingers traced my jawline, lifting my chin until our eyes met. The warmth of his touch sent tingles through my body, and I struggled to keep my composure. “Choose one and focus on it,” he suggested softly, his thumb stroking my cheek.

My heart raced as I tried to focus on the task at hand.

Damon stepped forward, a defiant smirk playing on his lips. “Back off, fang. No more mind tricks with her. We’re not in the mood for another episode of ‘Vampire Hypnosis Gone Wrong.’”

Justice released me. “I’m not.”

Damon gave him a wary look as if he wasn’t sure he believed him.

I rubbed my temples, and as if on cue, the graveyard popped into my brain. “Okay, I’ve picked one. I keep seeing an old graveyard, but I’ve never seen it before.”

Justice headed to the door. “Then I believe we need to go to the library. I suspect the graveyard is in Mystic Ridge, but it could be anywhere, and we don’t have time to hunt for it.”

“Research? Seriously? Nothing like books and dusty shelves,” Damon grumbled.

Justice’s eyebrow arched in a silent question, and his eyes narrowed with disapproval as he glared at him.

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