Brain Storm - Cat Gilbert (top 10 inspirational books .txt) 📗

sensitive to people’s emotions. Could tell when someone was hurt or angry. It came in handy during missions. I’d know if someone was lying, or if they had given us all the information they had. I always assumed I had, I don’t know, like a second sense. When my last tour was over, I was approached by the Agency. I went in for their testing and apparently passed with flying colors. I didn’t have anything else in the tube, and it sounded interesting, so I signed on.”

“How did you get assigned to me?”

“I did my basic training and then taught some, working with some of the Handlers. Those are the guys who teach the Clients how to use and control their abilities,” he explained at my confused look. “I told you that you didn’t have a Watcher until seven years ago. They just keep an eye on things and stop by once in a while to make sure everything’s going okay. The abilities manifest themselves in people at different times. Something usually sets it off, a trauma, or high-stress situation. When a person is a high candidate for having some abilities, they send a Watcher in if there’s an event that might precipitate a change. In your case, it was the death of your Aunt that started the ball rolling.”

“And lucky you, you got stuck with me.”

“Actually, that’s not true. I picked you.” He started playing with his straw, moving it up and down nervously. “I was sent to do a visual check on you when your Aunt died. You didn’t see me, but I was at the funeral, sitting in the back. Even that far from you, the connection was strong. Stronger than anything I’d come across. I didn’t understand it, but I pulled some strings and made sure I was assigned to you. I packed my bag and flew in the next week. I’ve been with you ever since.”

I was surprised at how calm I’d remained during his explanation. He had given me bits and pieces before, but now, for the first time, I was getting the full picture, and it should have been overwhelming. Somehow it wasn’t, and I had a feeling that had something to do with Mac.

“We need to head out to meet my contact. We need those ID’s.” He checked his watch and stowed his drink, putting the van in gear. “We’re running behind, so we’ll finish up after we pick up the crew at the mall.”

He pulled onto Central and headed toward Lake Catherine. As we passed the huge lakefront homes and marinas dotting the shoreline, Mac’s fingers beat out a rhythm on his leg. I had never seen him nervous like this before, and I wondered what problems he was anticipating that had him so worried.

“What about this afternoon?” I asked. “You said it wasn’t normal, what happens between us. What’s different?”

“I told you I felt a connection with you immediately?” I nodded that I remembered. I wasn’t likely to forget. “It was strong. After I got here, it grew stronger. Empaths can sense emotions, but this is more. It’s like I feel your emotion. Almost like I absorb it. It’s stronger if I touch you.” He ventured a quick glance at me and then back at the road.

“It’s incredibly strong if you direct it at me. This afternoon, you were angry at me. Then you were scared. It was,” he paused, searching for words. “I don’t know, like a sensory overload. I don’t understand it. I’ve never seen it before, but that’s the best way I can think of to explain it.”

“So that’s why you know when I am starting to freak. That’s when you tell me to calm down.” He nodded.

“Why are you nervous now?” I gestured toward his tapping fingers.

“I’m not,” he answered, with a half laugh. “You are.”