Murphy smiled at him.

  “Am I going to hate this?” he demanded.

  “I dunno. A few months ago, I would have said probably. Now, not so sure.”

  She was stared at. By everyone.

  “Don’t make me ask again,” Brodie told her.

  Murphy smiled. “I finally persuaded Duran to tell me why bonded psychics are safe from his people. And the answer is really simple. Fear. As badly as they want psychics, and as long as they’ve studied them, bonded psychics both baffle and terrify them. Because even inexperienced psychics, if they’re bonded to a mate, psychic or not, are about ten times more powerful than they were alone.”

  “Ten times?” Tasha ventured.

  “Whether you know it or not,” Murphy confirmed.

  “What can she do?” Brodie asked.

  “Not just Tasha. Tasha and you. With the exception of Bishop and Miranda, who have been very deeply bonded for quite a few years, and so can both operate and coordinate even with fifty miles or more between them, every bonded pair we’re using needs to act together, in the same place at the same time. We have two pairs joining the cell in Seattle, and they know what to do.

  “In Chicago, we’ll have you two—and another bonded pair from the Chicago cell. They also know and understand the mission.”

  Tucker said, “What about Sarah and me?”

  “We need you here to coordinate, Tucker, especially given the difficulties of the alien language, the necessity of tracking Sebring and her lieutenants, and the probability that someone somewhere will need something translated, pronto. And since we don’t want any communications picked up, both Sarah and I will stay here because of the strength of Sarah’s abilities—and the fact that I can serve as a strong conduit for her to communicate with other psychics.”

  Brodie had to grin. “You really didn’t expect you’d be stuck here out of the action, did you?”

  Murphy gave him a look. “I go where I’m needed, just like everyone else.” But everyone could hear a faintly disgruntled note in her tone.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Shut up, Brodie.” She returned her attention pointedly to the second-longest bonded pair in the room. “Tucker, we didn’t expect this central command center of ours to be used as such this quickly, but so it is. Sarah . . . I need to ask you to do something else.”

  “Name it,” Sarah responded instantly.

  “Now, and once all this really gets started, we may well need information only you can provide—from the crossroads. I need you to tap that source, maybe later but certainly now. I need to know if there’s anything you can learn there that could help us. We need every edge we can find to pull this off.”

  Sarah frowned slightly. “I’m willing to try, Murphy, but that’s a pretty broad question. The information there is . . . infinite. And there aren’t exactly any maps.”

  “We can help.”

  They all looked toward the hall doorway, startled to find Annabel standing there holding Pendragon in her arms. Both wore almost eerily identical solemn expressions.

  “We can help,” Annabel repeated. “Because I’m connected to Pendragon. And he’s connected to them. They made him.”

  Well, I wouldn’t go that far.

  In spite of everything Sarah smiled. But she had to say, “We had a feeling you might want to help, sweetie, but—”

  “I’ve been to the crossroads,” Annabel said simply.

  “You have?”

  “Lots of times. It’s such a nice place, like the library. Huge and quiet and filled with things to learn. I love it there.”

  “Wow,” Tucker said half under his breath. And then, louder, he added, “Can you and Sarah go together?”

  Annabel nodded. “And Pendragon. He knows where to look. He knows what can hurt them.”

  “Them?”

  “The bad people who try to scare us with shadows. Especially the ones in the tall buildings.”

  “You know the shadows aren’t real?” Tasha asked.

  Annabel nodded again. “I knew even before Pendragon told me. I found out at the crossroads. I was scared one night, because one of them passed by the—the place where I was sleeping outside. It woke me up. I thought I saw the shadow, real tall, shaped all funny, and cold, and scary-feeling. I didn’t know if I was having a nightmare, even wide-awake. So I closed my eyes and went to the crossroads.”

  Murphy, rather uncharacteristically showing her fascination, asked, “What did you find out?”

  “That they were like things that jump out at you in a fun house at Halloween. Things to scare you. Only not pretend, like in the fun house. Not to scare you and then make you laugh. Just to scare you real bad and keep you scared. So you stay away.”

  “Did you find out where they come from?”

  “Just not here. Far away. From a star so far away you can’t see it at night.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Brodie knew Murphy too well not to know she’d be slippery until she wanted to tell them whatever it was they needed to know. He wasn’t happy about that, but knew there wasn’t much he could do about it. For now, at least.

  And Tasha asked only one question, about something more than one person in the room decided they should have considered themselves.

  “What about the other shadow breeding operations?” she asked Murphy quietly. “All the ones we haven’t found yet, or can’t move against on Sunday. What about all those moms and babies?”

  Not surprisingly, Murphy had an answer ready. “We will continue to rescue those women and babies and close down or convert to our control all the facilities, one by one if we have to. The existing staff at each facility will be ordered to go on as usual until we can get to them all. Duran’s agreed that all his attention is going to be more than occupied with dealing with the . . . readjustments . . . of his people. And it is his operation to end, of course. He’ll handle any open objections to that, and we’ll maintain tight security on all the other facilities during the interim.”

  “But we haven’t found them all.”

  “We’ll have a list by Sunday,” Murphy told her. “A complete list. Of every house and facility in operation.” She paused. “There are a lot. A hell of a lot. That’s why I said we’ll probably convert some of them to our control, at least for a while. We’ll have to figure out how to handle the on-site staff, who are mostly more of Duran’s paid tools, but that may be a lot simpler than we had any right to expect. Seems Duran had his human tools hypnotized and a post-hypnotic suggestion planted deeply. When we give the word, all those people are going to forget all about their parts in the eugenics programs, and lose all knowledge they had or might have had about any of this. And it can be done one facility at a time.”

  Tasha looked at her, troubled. “But aren’t they guilty of the things they did do?”

  “They actually didn’t do so much any of us would find all that objectionable, I think. Whatever was done to the women happened before they were given over to the caretakers. The worse they believed they were doing was running homes or clinics for unwed mothers who were either slightly mentally disabled or else had been traumatized by their pregnancies.”

  “Which,” Sarah murmured, “would answer most of their questions.”

  “Yeah, most. It’s a neat solution Duran planned for various eventualities, and I think it’s one we can live with. About the caretakers, at least. As for Duran and his part in developing and running the eugenics program . . . Like I said, I doubt he’ll escape judgment or punishment, just not from us.”

  That was something they all believed they could live with.

  They all had plenty to do in order to get ready for their operations, but all wanted to watch as Sarah, Annabel, and Pendragon attempted to reach the place they called the crossroads, where past, present, and future met.

  Except they didn’t try.

  They just did it.

  Tucker, sitting in a chair at right angles to the couch where he could watch them all, realized first. Connected to Sarah always, he felt it.

  “Damn,” he murmured, his eyes unconsciously half closed.

  “What?” Murphy asked softly.

  “They’re there. All three of them.

  “Can you see—”

  “No. Not exactly. It’s not a . . . visible place, at least not to me. A feeling. A sound I can’t really hear. But peaceful. Very—” He broke off abruptly as both Sarah and Annabel opened their eyes in the same moment.

  Pendragon sneezed, opened his eyes, and began to wash a forepaw.

  Brodie looked at Tasha. “Why does it surprise me now when he acts like a cat?”

  “I think he does it on purpose.”

  Allergic to stardust.

  Bishop said, “I’m almost afraid to ask if he’s serious.”

  “I’m not,” Miranda said. “Pendragon?”

  Cats joke.

  “Do you?”

  Fun to tease.

  Miranda shook her head and returned her gaze to Sarah and Annabel, both of whom were smiling slightly and looked very peaceful.

  “I hate to interrupt,” Miranda said.

  “It’s all right.” Sarah smiled at her specifically. “You and Bishop are going to be very successful. And you’ll find two of the psychics you thought lost. Two you can save.”

  “Only two?” Miranda asked.

  “At least two. Possibly as many as four.”

  Murphy spoke up almost idly. “Cheating.”

  “No,” Sarah said seriously. “They needed to know. It’ll help them do what they have to on Sunday, because none of this is without cost. Just as it’ll help Tasha and Brodie to know that they don’t really need you to tell them what to do in Chicago. They’ll know when the time comes.”

  Murphy smiled.

  Brodie looked like he wanted to swear.

  Annabel smiled at him. “You should know by now you can’t plan around corners.”

  “I can try,” he retorted, but in a mild tone.

  “You have to learn to see around them first. Tasha will teach you how to do that.”

  “I know how to do that?” Tasha asked, surprised.

  “You will.”

  “Let me guess. When the time comes?”

  “The way of the universe.”

  Softly, Miranda said, “Some things are meant to happen just the way they happen.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Given the distance they had to travel, Bishop and Miranda left first, their private jet taking them to Wyoming without fanfare, where they were to meet up late on Saturday with the teams and equipment they would need for their mission.

  Bishop had offered another jet to transport Tasha and Brodie to Chicago, but Brodie had elected to call instead one of their deep undercover assets, who had helped plenty but was still itching to help even more.

  To Bishop, Brodie had said, “It’s enough to have your jet plus a couple of jet helicopters from Haven buzzing around out west. This will be a common and uninteresting business trip made by a corporate jet that makes the occasional, semi-regular run from Charleston to Chicago. And,” he added thoughtfully, “if I know him, he’ll offer us a penthouse apartment in some swanky riverfront high-rise once we get there where we can stay for the duration.”

  Brodie used one of the very secure phones in their base to place the call, and wasn’t at all surprised when Josh Long announced the jet would be ready and waiting in Charleston within two hours, offered more than one jet if needed, and indeed a large, full-service penthouse apartment overlooking Lake Michigan, at their disposal for as long as necessary.

  Brodie accepted one jet and the apartment, rather amused.

  On impulse, and since he knew his friend had long wanted to do something more active than “merely” supply transportation, equipment, and other necessities, Brodie said, “You and the others all like kids, right? Have quite a few between you?”

  “Not enough,” Josh answered promptly. “Zach and Teddy have been talking about adopting, and so have most of the rest of us. Plenty to offer, you know, and plenty of kids who need good, loving homes.”

  “Happy to hear that.”

  Josh had learned not to ask too many questions, but one amused question did emerge. “You’re looking to adopt out kids now?”

  “I’ll let you know. They’d likely be . . . special kids, Josh.”

  Without hesitation, Josh Long replied, “We all learned to appreciate special kids a long time ago. Put us on your list, John. And just say when.”

  Brodie started to thank him, but ended up listening, unsurprised, to the dial tone.

  “So,” Murphy said, having listened unabashedly, “you’re thinking ahead to placing possibly psychic babies into good homes.”

  “You said it yourself. The very best use we could have for some of our deep-cover assets is to take care of those women and babies. And kids, for all we know, maybe old enough to be in school, and maybe not living in places anywhere close to the sort of homes and lives they deserve.”

  “I’m not disagreeing. Start your list. Between all of us, I’m thinking we’ll have enough assets to provide good homes for a lot of those kids. Quite a few in some of our cells have also expressed interest now that word’s spreading.”

  “Maybe Duran should run an adoption agency,” Brodie said dryly. “Serve him right.”

  Murphy looked . . . thoughtful.

  TWENTY

  Robin Brook and David Grant were recent newcomers to the Chicago cell, they confessed while meeting Tasha and Brodie. Very recent. They had been bonded for more than a year, both telepaths, aware of what had been going on for longer than that, and had elected to be among those psychics living in plain sight but not necessarily calling attention to themselves.

  “Until the babies,” Robin told them starkly. “We both heard them, and when we did . . . We couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. Because they were reaching out for help.” She shook her head, delicate face clearly showing sorrow. “We couldn’t help them. But if there are other babies we can help—”

  “There are,” Tasha told her. “A lot of them, in fact. And if we can do what we’re supposed to here, we can help them all.” She looked at Brodie, suddenly frowning. “So far, no instincts kicking in,” she said.

  “Yeah, I know.” He looked at the other couple. “How about you two? Any idea of just what we’re supposed to actually do here, or has Murphy been stretching the truth again?”

  They were sitting across from each other in a small but nicely bustling café just down the block from the high-rise whose address they’d all been given.

  “We weren’t told much about the mechanics of what we need to do,” David said frankly. “Just the basics. Where to meet you two, which building and even which floor and which boardroom we’re supposed to be . . . concentrating on . . . pretty damned early tomorrow morning, especially for an office building and on a Sunday to boot.”

  Tasha nodded wryly. “We checked out the building before dark, and it sure isn’t the kind where people work on the weekends. But there are apartments on several of the upper floors.”

  “Their people, I’m guessing,” David said matter-of-factly. “Some of them, anyway. But not the suits we’re after. Those’re more likely to live in penthouse condos or some of those places in Lincoln Park or, even more likely, the Gold Coast.”

  “Or on one of those estates outside the city in the suburbs,” Robin added. “There’s some insane wealth out there.”

  Brodie frowned thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t expect the suits to be living too grandly, at least not from the outside looking in. They wouldn’t want to draw attention either way, by living too plainly or too . . . plushly.”

  “Plushly?” Tasha looked at him, one eyebrow lifting.

  “Don’t give me a hard time, my head’s still spinning from yesterday.”

  “Ours too,” David said, and when Brodie looked at him added, “Not many secrets about our visitors left on our side, I’m afraid. At least among the bonded psychics. And nobody seems all that surprised, so apparently some of us had considered the possibility before now.” His voice was low, but casual. “We seem to be linking up somehow, sharing knowledge, even the ones who aren’t telepaths. Ever since what happened Monday, Robin and I have been more and more aware of what we’ve been mostly trying not to think about for the last year and more.”

  “It’s not that we didn’t want to help,” Robin began, but Tasha waved away the explanation.

  “Listen, lots made the same choice, and we’ve all had our reasons for whatever choices we’ve made. No judgment from anybody on that.” She was frowning now as she looked at Brodie, and added, “What? We already know most of it, so why would you expect more?”

  “It’s the linked-up business that bothers me,” he said readily. “Because I don’t think we are. And I think that could be my fault.”

  “It’s nobody’s fault. We’re new at this.”

  “We can’t afford to be new at this, not with what’s supposed to happen in just a few hours.”

  “Hate to echo Murphy, but I really do think we’ll both know when the time comes. I think we’ll know what to do, and I think your ability will be triggered—and will enhance or even supersede mine.”

  It was Brodie’s turn to frown.

  Robin laughed a little, saying, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s sort of nice to see another couple struggling with this. We’ve been amazingly close—and have from time to time gotten on each other’s nerves in an amazingly irritating way.”