Deceiver's Bond: Book Two of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life by Katherine Bayless

Author:Katherine Bayless [Bayless, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scry Media LLC
Published: 2014-07-03T04:00:00+00:00

Kieran and I missed the 11:25 am ferry by just ten minutes. After learning from Daniel that Kim Pratchet’s address was listed for all to see in the Seattle area white pages, I levitated the two of us over Puget Sound and aimed to catch it.

Even though he’d watched me fly off the side of my building the night before, I had a heck of a time convincing Kieran that a nosedive into forty-eight degree water wasn’t high on my list of fun things to do. Flying was my latest obsession. I’d literally spent hours soaring over and around downtown’s skyscrapers. Adding Kieran to the mix hardly mattered, especially with his touch bolstering my focus. Deflecting bullets … now that was a different story. I had about as much confidence in successfully stopping gunfire as I did in finding street parking in front of Peabody’s Beans on a weekday morning.

After several exasperating trips around the parking lot to prove my ability, Kieran finally gave in when I pointed out that the ferry was still visible on the horizon. The longer we dawdled, the farther away it got.

Thankfully, the weather was overcast but calm. Linked arm in arm and cloaked by Kieran’s veil, I propelled us through the cool springtime air, forty feet above the rippling blue surface. I had little sense of our speed, but if my wind slicked hair, snapping clothes, and chilled ears offered any indication, we were bopping along at maybe thirty miles per hour. In the distance, I watched the MV Tacoma, one of the two ferries that served the Bainbridge route, steadily grow larger against the horizon.

Although Kieran appeared calm, his hand on my waist pressed me harder against his body the further we receded from land. I gave him a squeeze and shouted over the sound of air sluicing past my ears, “You doing okay?”

He nodded, jaw clenched, squinting against the stiff breeze. His raven hair billowed out behind him—a magnificently tattered black flag. Dozens of irreverent strands snaked across his nose and forehead before he tossed his head, forcing them out of his face.

Maybe it was childish, but my naughty side got a charge out of seeing him look disconcerted for once. “Enjoy the view. I’m not going to drop you,” I teased.

At my ‘drop you’ comment, his hand, which he insisted needed to be in direct contact with my skin for a better connection, wound from the small of my back toward my left side. Now, instead of just his left hand under my jacket and blouse, his entire forearm was under there, snaked around me, warming me, his hand clamped over the tender skin of my side. I might have questioned his motives if not for the severe expression on his face.

“Kieran?”

When he didn’t respond or even look at me, I reduced our speed and rotated in his arms, so we now appeared to be slow dancing, albeit in a very strange location and without the benefit of music.

At my move, he jerked his head down, meeting my near gaze, his eyes momentarily widened by alarm.

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