She reached up to hush him with a finger. She let the tip rest on his lips and then traced a line around the edges.
“No matter what it may feel like, he can’t reach me. Not telepathically. I just have to remind myself of that when panic overwhelms me. He’s using the link between him and me to frighten and intimidate me. He wants me to slip up and make a fatal mistake. And I won’t allow that to happen. It’s taken me long enough to make sense of it all and actually think instead of reacting blindly, but if he could somehow harm me physically, he would have already done so. I’ve unwittingly aided him in his pursuit of me by my rash and frantic actions.”
Caleb didn’t look at all happy with her firm resolve. For once she sounded convincing, a halfway intelligent woman, instead of coming across as the hot mess she was. He dragged a hand through his short-clipped hair in agitation.
Before he could argue, she slid her fingers into his and squeezed, for the first time offering him the comfort she’d been provided time and time again. She marveled at the fact she could touch him when she was unable to touch anyone else without enduring unspeakable pain. She had to be strong and grow a spine instead of being a pathetic excuse for DNA. For whatever reason, God had given her a special . . . gift? She wouldn’t go that far, but she’d been given this ability and it was time to use it to her advantage.
“He said too late when earlier today Dane made the comment, a few more minutes won’t make a difference if he’s already moved on to his next victim.”
Caleb’s eyes widened in shock and then they darkened as he glanced between Dane and Eliza.
“He’s already found his next victim,” Ramie said softly. “Or at least he’s actively acquired a new target. I suspect he’s out there right now, stalking an unsuspecting woman; perhaps he’s already put his plan into motion. If he holds true to his pattern then he’ll call it in. He’ll want me to know. And he’s going to continue to punish me by accumulating victim after victim until I finally break.”
Caleb shook his head, his lips pressed together in a thin line.
“You won’t break,” he said with conviction. “That’s where he’s mistaken and hopefully that’s where he’ll make his mistake by coming after you.”
A halfhearted smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“I wish I was as confident as you are about me not breaking.”
“I won’t let you break,” he said softly, his hand clenching around hers with a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll never have to worry that no one loves you. You’ll never be alone again if I have anything to say about it.”
The utter conviction in his tone, the love, warmth and worry in his eyes gave her a surge of confidence.
He fused his mouth to hers, utterly ignoring the other occupants of the room. It was exquisitely tender. So very precious and sweet as though she were utterly treasured. She sighed into his mouth and he swallowed her breath before she took it back. A discreet cough sounded and Caleb stiffened. He turned and slashed a withering stare in the artist’s direction.
“You can leave now,” Caleb said tersely. “If the sketch is done, Dane will show you out. We’ll handle the rest.”
The artist rose as if he couldn’t wait to be out of Caleb’s house. He shoved his sketchpad and pencils into his bag and then hurried for the door, not waiting for Dane to lead the way.
Caleb turned his attention back to her. He slid his thumb over her cheekbone, his touch warm, a balm to her frayed nerves.
“He’ll call it in like he did the last one,” Ramie said. “This time we’re expecting it so our reaction time should be faster. Maybe that will give us an advantage in locating him before it’s too late.”
Caleb swore and her hand fell away from his as he paced the living room floor between her and where Eliza sat.
“He can’t touch her here,” Eliza said. “Here is the very best place for her to be if she’s going to trace a link back to the killer.” She hesitated a moment and then rested her gaze on Ramie. “I’ve been doing some research on psychic abilities. Most of it hypothesized, mind you, since there aren’t any documented cases of mental telepathy or pathos, but one researcher theorized that it was possible for someone who taps into the mind of another to then establish a more permanent link. Which is, as I think you’ll both agree, precisely what our killer has done with Ramie.”
“What are you getting at?” Caleb asked.
Ramie remained silent, mulling over Eliza’s words. She had a good idea where the other woman was going with this and it infuriated her that she herself had never thought of the possibility before. But to analyze her abilities meant embracing them in some small measure, and Ramie had never even come close to acceptance. She’d spent her life fighting the very demons that may well save her now.