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“What’s that?” Nate asked.
“Why now?” Laura gestured with her arms wide apart, as if to signify how random it all felt. “Why am I getting visions of something that happened two years ago, four years ago – right now? I normally see things related to something I’m close to. Something happening near to me. Why am I getting this vision of something that happened years ago and that wasn’t even on our radar?”
“Maybe he’s about to switch to men, and that’s why I’m in danger,” Nate joked. It fell flat, and even he realized it, making a grimace. “I don’t know, Laura. Maybe we’re just supposed to solve it. Maybe it’s because you’re the only person who can.”
“Maybe,” Laura sighed. As ever, she would have to put up with speculation instead of actually knowing the answer. It was always the same with her visions. So many questions, never enough answers.
“Well, let’s -” Nate began, but Laura didn’t find out what he was going to suggest. He cut himself off, looking down at the desk and his cell phone ringing on it, flashing up a name that made them both exchange a look of panic.
Chief Rondelle.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The psychic tapped aimlessly on the side of the steering wheel, glancing around without much understanding of where he was supposed to go. He knew he needed to be in D.C., but that was it. He needed to narrow it down somehow.
He’d seen an apartment building when he saw her, a few times now. He’d somehow hoped he would get here and just see it, just like that, recognize it from the road. It hadn’t happened yet. He knew that she would be at the FBI Headquarters on a normal day, but that was too much of a risky place to stake out. Too many people who knew what they were doing would be looking out of the windows. He couldn’t risk stalking her there.
A headache hit his temple like a ton of bricks and he gripped the steering wheel tightly for a moment, glad he had chosen to park, not knowing that this was coming –
She was wearing black, standing by the side of a grave.
“I can’t believe it,” she was saying to someone. The Black man – the one she was partnered up with for work. The big one that the psychic always considered to be the biggest threat in pulling all of this off. He was going to have to wait – to get her on her own. “I just can’t believe he’s gone.”
“I know you searched for him for a long time,” the big one said, his tone sympathetic.
“And then when we did find each other, we couldn’t even stay together.” Laura rested her hand on the gravestone. “It’s so cruel. To have these powers, and to have to stay away from everyone else like you because of what it does to those powers.”
The psychic, if he’d had a corporeal form in these visions, would have smiled. Oh, she didn’t know. She didn’t know why it was important for the powers to be diminished once two psychics came close to one another. She didn’t know that killing one, consuming them, would allow you to absorb their power. She’d known another psychic – and she’d never taken advantage of it.
He would correct that mistake.
“Do you want to investigate?” the big one asked. “I know the locals said they were going to do everything they can to find out who killed him, but…”
“I do,” Laura said. “I do want to. I know Rondelle will argue with us, saying it’s not our kind of case, but I need to do right by Zach. He didn’t deserve this.”
Zach… the psychic realized he could read the name on the gravestone. Zachary Kingston. The time between the two dates engraved on it was long. He had survived a long time, for one of his kind. What a shame that the psychic hadn’t been around to feast on him.
“I’ll leave you a moment to collect your thoughts,” the big one said. “I’ll be in the car.”
“Thanks, Nate,” Laura said. Then she turned, as if she had only just thought of something. “Actually, Nate? Go on ahead to the motel. I’ll walk back. It’s not far. I could do with the air.”
“Sure thing,” Nate said. He turned to walk away, leaving Laura on her own.
Back in his car, the psychic felt a smile curving like the cut of a knife across his face.
The headache was mild, the vision occurring sometime in the far future. He had time. He had plenty of time.
And now he knew.
All he had to do was find Zachary Kingston. Zach was a psychic, too, another target for his list. Laura had revealed as much in that vision. All he had to do was hunt down Zach and kill him, and then he would lure this FBI agent right to him. She would attend his funeral, stand by his grave, and then tell her partner to leave her alone for a while.
There were a lot of things that could happen in a graveyard.
And with enough time to narrow down the location of the cemetery where Zach would be buried – or simply wait until the details were announced – he would be able to check out the routes away from it. He would know which motel, in walking distance, the agent was most likely to stay at – and he could follow her.
Somewhere along the way would be an opportunity. With the two of them in the same town, she would have no chance of seeing him and being able to prepare. She would be defenseless against him. He would take her there – and then he would be invincible. The rest of the psychics of the world would be child’s play to take out once he had taken an FBI agent. They would be helpless before him, and he would grow his power to levels that had never before been imagined in his world.
He would be the strongest of them all, and then he would be the last of them all.
