What was one more secret in the Dead Man’s hands? Jamey ducked beneath the frame herself and leaped down after him, catching herself in a crouch. The impact wasn’t pleasant, but she straightened, unharmed. “So you know about me too.”
Broken glass crunched under their feet as they started toward Jamey’s Charger. “It’s rare,” said Grayson, “but it happens every now and then to an empath’s sibling. You turned out stronger and faster than everyone else, because growing up with an empath changed howyougrew up.”
“Wait, what?” Jamey said. “How?”
“Theory is they use empathy to change their sibling, same as they change their thralls, just slow enough not to kill you,” Grayson said, as they strode across the street, perfectly matching each other’s fast pace. “And the sibling ends up with some natural immunity to empathy, like you’ve been inoculated.”
“Butwhy?”
Grayson shrugged, the gesture caught in the yellow glow of the streetlamp. “Could be because the little empath loves their sibling so much but isn’t able to control their empathy yet. So that love has a tangible impact, on accident. But most researchers take a different view.”
Jamey eyed him. “Which is?”
“That it’s a manipulation by the part of an empath that controls corruption. To make sure they have someone to protect them when they’re a vulnerable pacifist, until they get old enough and strong enough that corruption can happen.”
“Oh, that theory isfucked up,” Jamey said.
“The animal kingdom is full of parasites. Nature’s kinda fucked up,” Grayson said dryly.
“But the squishy pacifistisan empath’s real nature,” said Jamey, as they reached her car. “They’re not just a—ahostfor the corrupted empath.”
“Scientists are divided on that one too.”
“Then that’s also fucked up.” Jamey narrowed her eyes. “And what about the Dead Man? Which one do you think an empath really is?”
“I think it doesn’t matter.” Grayson was pulling his phone out as he went around to the passenger side. “We want them to stay pacifists either way.”
Jamey put her hand on the car door. “I can’t help but notice that I’m not stronger and faster thanyou.”
“Well,” said Grayson, “even by snowflake standards, I’m special now.” He held up his phone, a map on-screen. “I’ve got a tracker on my truck. We can follow.”
Jamey nodded. “I’ll call for backup.”
But Grayson immediately shook his head. “No backup. You just saw what Ms. Falcon can do. We’re not gonna give her more weapons.”
Jamey paused. “How does that not go double for us? We’d be even more dangerous than everyone else.”
“We would. But how much can your brother read from you?”
Not much. But Reece could still hear her lie. Jamey hesitated, then said, “I don’t think I’m going to be immune to all of Cora’s empathy.”
“You won’t be,” Grayson agreed. “But you’ve got more resistance than most folks.”
“Most,” she repeated, a thought occurring to her. “But not the special snowflake. You’re completely immune to anything an empath can do, aren’t you? Any power, no matter how strong?”
Grayson met her eyes over the top of the Charger. “How’d you guess?”
“Because no one calls me the Dead Woman.”
“You should probably be grateful for that.”
Jamey wished for Reece’s abilities in that moment, because the words seemed laced with a meaning she couldn’t interpret. She opened the car door. “How screwed are we?”
“Screwed?”
“How big a head start does Reece have?”
“You’re stressing catching up to your empath brother? You got lights, sirens, enhanced senses and reflexes—”
