Home > Deadlock (Southern Arcana #3)(4)

Deadlock (Southern Arcana #3)(4)
Author: Moira Rogers

Kat tilted her head, her icy chill thawing to curious interest. “So you’re an empath and he’s a telepath? It must have been strong in your family, for both of you to be psychic.”

She helped Kat peel her brightly colored cardigan down off her shoulders. “Think that’s impressive? My other brother, Julio? He’s the overachiever of the family. A precognitive and a shapeshifter.”

“Really? Is it reliable? Strong?”

“There aren’t many guys in his fire house who’ll—” Carmen sucked in a sharp breath as she caught sight of numerous contusions marring Kat’s arms. Only a few were fresh, and most carried the sickly yellow tinge of at least a week’s age. “How did you get these bruises?”

Kat blinked and looked down. “Oh, f**k. That’s why I wore the sweater. I swear, it’s not what it looks like.”

If she had a dollar for every time she’d heard that, she wouldn’t have to work. “Has someone been hurting you, Kat?” Carmen looked her dead in the eye as she asked. Not many people could prevaricate without hesitation.

“Well, yeah. But I’m paying her to.” Kat held up both arms and studied the bruises with something approaching pride. “Self-defense lessons. Have you ever heard of Zola? She’s a shapeshifter. A lion. And she can set Alec on his ass, though he won’t ever fight with her in front of anyone else. I think it stings his manly ego to get schooled by a girl.”

Carmen didn’t need empathy to see the truth in the girl’s words. “Okay. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Uh, three? Are you going to have your brother look at my head?”

“It’s either that or a trip to the hospital for that CT we talked about.” Carmen eased up to sit beside Kat on the exam table. “Does it bother you, the thought of having someone you don’t know poking around in your head?”

“Not really. A lot less than the thought of having someone I do know poking around in there.” Kat smiled wanly. “It’s been a long year. I’ve had a few uncharitable thoughts, and I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. I know they’re doing their best.”

“It’d be reasonable, you know, if it bothered you. It would me, and most everyone else too.”

“That would make me a little bit of a hypocrite, wouldn’t it? I’m strong. Too strong to block out everything, unless I want to give myself a permanent migraine. People don’t get much privacy from me.”

She sounded sad, and Carmen didn’t blame her. Outside the warded confines of this room, she had to be beset on all sides by other people’s emotions. Everything they felt, Kat felt. It was a surprisingly lonely way to live, enough to drive a person insane. “I’m lucky. My abilities are low, midlevel at most, and I’ve had a lot of training. I can block pretty much anything, if I concentrate.”

“Yeah. I can’t.” Kat dropped her hands back to her lap, her fingers toying with the loose, flowing fabric of her long dress. “With great power comes a great need for jumbo bottles of Advil.”

“Then maybe you and Miguel have more in common than I thought.” Carmen peeled off her gloves as she slid off the table. “I’ll go get him, and maybe hold off your glowering friend for a few more minutes, hmm?”

“Thanks. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble, but I panicked. I’m feeling better now, I swear.”

“You’re probably going to be fine. Humor me for a little while longer.”

Kat wrinkled her nose. “Humoring people is my part-time job.”

Halfway down the hall toward the lobby, Carmen heard Miguel laugh. “No, see….. To hear my grandmother tell it, she never actually married Primo Ochoa before she ran off with my grandfather. And really, who can blame her for it? The Mendoza charm is legendary.”

“Uh-huh. Well, the current crop of Ochoa boys are famous for being the least charming bastards of their generation.” Alec sounded amused, as well. “Meanwhile, I hear your big brother just about caused a riot by laying a little Mendoza charm on the oldest Reed girl. Didn’t he get challenged over it?”

“Twice,” Carmen answered. “Set her brother and her cousin on their asses. Miguel, can you help me out for a minute?”

“Sure.” He shoved his cell phone in his pocket. “What is it?”

“Kat whacked her head, but she wants to avoid the hospital. She’s willing to let you take a look, make sure nothing’s scrambled.”

Alec frowned. “Does she need to go? If so, she’s going. Over my shoulder, if necessary.”

Deadly handsome or not, the man was infuriating. “Sit down, for Christ’s sake. No one’s going anywhere over anyone’s shoulder.”

His gaze tracked along as Miguel made his way down the hallway, but Alec gave in and dropped into a chair. “What’s he going to do?”

For a moment, she debated following her brother to make sure Kat was at ease while he did what he needed to do. But what she’d told the girl was true—she and Miguel probably had plenty in common, and not many people felt ill-at-ease with him.

She settled into a chair across from Alec’s. “He’s a telepath. It’s hard to explain exactly how he reads thoughts, but…..suffice it to say, if she has head trauma from the attack, he’ll know.”

“Ah, yeah.” He inclined his head. “I forgot about the Mendoza psychics. Stupid of me.”

The words held recrimination, but it was directed at himself, and Carmen got the distinct impression that he prided himself on knowing all the facts of a situation, on exhaustively examining a situation for every possible outcome.

Except that wasn’t it, not exactly. It wasn’t a matter of taking pride in his own preparedness—it was a matter of necessity. “It bothers you when you think you’ve dropped the ball.”

His face closed off and his eyes narrowed. “Obviously I get that empaths can’t help picking shit up, but it’s rude to rub it in our faces.”

Something about the man turned her into a complete ass. “Psych rotation, not empathy, but you’re right. It was impolite. I’m sorry.”

Alec just shook his head and rubbed at his jaw. “Me too. I’m pissy. Shouldn’t be taking it out on you, but I’m at my wit’s end with that girl.”

Franklin had explained to her the unique nature of some of their cases, and how they couldn’t always be handled the way she was used to. Sometimes patient confidentiality had to be set aside.

Still, some things had been ingrained in Carmen, and she debated how much to share with Alec. Finally, she said, “Kat told me why she needs to stay in the warded room. About what happened the last time she had a meltdown.”

“She did, huh?” The words were flat, but a sliver of surprise wiggled past her shields. “She doesn’t talk about that much.”

Carmen braced her elbows on her knees and folded her hands together. “I got the feeling she doesn’t know many other empaths.”

“A few, but she’s…..” He shrugged. “Have you ever heard of Callum Tyler? The British empath?”

“I have.” The man was highly gifted, highly trained—and very much in demand.

“He owed a friend of ours a favor, so he came here over the winter. Helped get her grounded, shielded, whatever psychics do.” His dry tone made it clear he hadn’t inquired too closely.

Tyler had a reputation for being effective in all but the worst of cases. “So why does she seem to think none of that matters, and more people are going to wind up dead if she steps out of that room?”

Alec looked away, presenting her with his hard profile. “He wasn’t impressed with her level of training, and he was too impressed with how strong she is. Guess that’s a dangerous combination. He’s coming back this summer for another round of lessons.”

So the man had chastised Kat’s friends and family, and Alec resented it. Carmen knew from experience how unhelpful blatant criticism could be, even when it was deserved. “I don’t have any answers. I wish I did.”

“I think she’s got control, but I don’t know how it works. Could a concussion make her lose it?”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “Can you stay with her tonight? Someone should.”

That earned her a snort of laughter. “Already called a friend. I can stick around until she shows up, but Kat’s better off with someone a little more…..comforting.”

“Okay.” Carmen stood. “I’m going to go check on things. Miguel might need my help.”

“Can I come? I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

She figured that was as good as it got. “Sure.”

The door was slightly ajar, and Carmen knocked before pushing it open to find Kat and Miguel standing by the exam table. Kat had a pen in hand and was writing on Miguel’s outstretched palm, her lips curved up in a smile. “I’m pretty much done with my grad work for the semester. I took a term off from teaching labs, so I finished all my projects early.”

“Yeah? Great. I’ve got a couple of classes to finish up this spring, and then I’m done.”

Carmen cleared her throat. “How is she?”

“Fine, just fine. Jacobson can relax.” Miguel didn’t look away from Kat as he smiled and took the pen from her. “Give me a call.”

“I will. Or you call me when you’ve got some time. I know finals are coming up.”

“See you around, Kat.” He eased past Carmen and Alec and out the door.

The faintest hint of pink rose in Kat’s cheeks, and she studiously avoided Alec as she fiddled with the strap on her bag. “It’s not a thing. He just…..gets it. Not being able to shut the psychic stuff off, I mean.”

Lying was useless, but Carmen managed to keep the censure out of her voice. “I admit I would have preferred he wait to ask you out until we were sure you weren’t suffering from an altered mental state.”

   
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