Jamey crouched in front of Reece’s chair, their eyes almost level. “You’re not going to like it.”
Compared to Grayson’s blank pages, Reece could read novels in Jamey’s subtle expressions. “Stop wondering if you’re going to break me and just spit it out.”
She bit her lip but took him at his word. “Senator Hathaway was killed by an empath.”
Chapter Eight
From: Stone, Cedrick
To: Owens, Jason ; Whitman, Vanessa
Subject: White paper
Doctors, your latest white paper, “Emotional Influence and the Endocrine System,” did us proud. An entire generation of empaths, yet I feel so many still do not grasp that emotions are not just about how we feel, but can effect what we’re physically capable of in a given moment.
I appreciate your sound judgment in selecting which findings to share with the public. I’m having copies sent to Hannah ASAP.
It took Reece several seconds to process what Jamey had said. When he finally did, his mouth fell open. “That’s impossible.”
Jamey held up her hands placatingly. “Reece—”
“That doesn’t even make sense!”
“Nothing about this case makes sense,” she said. “Senator Hathaway’s cause of death wasn’t drugs—she was pumped full of the hormones that fuel emotions until her heart burst.”
Reece fought back a shudder. “But since when are empaths capable of that?”
It was Grayson who said, “We’ve had one generation of empaths. You think you’re the be-all, end-all of what your kind is capable of?”
Reece winced. “I might believe some empaths have powers others don’t,” he said carefully. “But so what? Empaths can’t—we can’t—” He swallowed. “The idea that an empath could hurt someone, it’s—”
Ludicrous, he was going to say. But he was thrown back to the ambulance and the words from his own lips.
Empathy can’t hurt him. I can’t hurt him.
He’d heard those as lies. Which meant some part of Reece had believed he was lying—
He stood so fast he knocked his chair over.
No. No, those lies had been a fluke. Yes, he had violent nightmares, and yes, he had an ability no empath should have, but no matter his strange nightmares and abilities and lies, he couldn’t hurt anyone. No empath could.
“Thisis why I need an alibi?” he snapped at Grayson. “Because you think an empath did it—and you think that empath could be me?”
“Was it?” Grayson asked neutrally.
“No!”Reece threaded both gloved hands in his hair. “No,” he said again, bitterly. “Of course not.”
Jamey got to her feet too, more slowly, her gaze fixed on Grayson. “Are you and I going to have a problem, Agent Grayson?”
Reece tensed, but Grayson only pushed off the wall, calm as ever. “No, Detective. If I thought he’d done this, we wouldn’t be standing here chitchatting.” He put his hands on the table, bringing him eye level with Reece. “I didn’t plan to tell you,” he said. “I was gonna let you keep your innocence. But you wanted the truth, and there it is: some empaths can use their abilities to kill.”
Reece didn’t want to hear this. He dropped back into his seat, not trusting his shaky limbs. “But how?”
“All you need to know is I’m gonna stop them,” said Grayson. “That’s what I do and that’s why I’m here. But I’ve also got to do something with you.”
“Go ahead.” Jamey’s hand was back on her holster so fast Reece hadn’t seen it move. “I might even let you try.”
Grayson raised his head at that, but Reece spoke first. “Wait, whyarewechitchattin’? You said you had somewhere you could take me—why am I not already there?”
