He wondered why. “Did they seek outside help, then?”
“Only in the form of psychiatrists.” She snorted softly. “I lived in a small town, Jon, with small-town fears. I was an oddity, a freak. My parents tried very hard to make me appear normal, but people knew.”
The horror of her childhood was evident in the dark swirl through her aura. He silently cursed the fools who had brought her up to fear, even loathe, her gift.
“Then tell me about your gifts.” It was evident from the way she stood that he wouldn’t get much more about her past until she trusted him more.
“There’s nothing to tell. I’m just a freak.”
If she was a freak, then what was he? What would she say if she ever saw him change? Not that she ever would. That was one secret he shared with the very few people whom he trusted completely. “Maddie, you have a gift that can be valuable if you want to save your nephew. It doesn’t make you a freak.”
Only the attitude of uncaring people could do that. And someone in her past, someone other than her parents, had obviously torn her to shreds over her gift. He sensed that much.
He flexed the tension from his fingers and glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten o’clock. Time was running out. If he didn’t get moving soon, another day would be wasted. “Tell me about the people you saw.”
Her shoulders tensed again. “I told you what I saw. It doesn’t make sense.”
To her, it wouldn’t. She didn’t know the woman was a shapeshifter, and he had no intention of telling her. It would only lead to questions he didn’t want to answer. “The clairvoyant image isn’t always clear, especially if you haven’t been trained. Sometimes you have to interpret it.”
Finally, she turned around and looked at him, and he was pleased to see the fear in her eyes had retreated slightly.
“How do you know so much about clairvoyants?”
He smiled. “My mother and three of my sisters are clairvoyants.”
She raised a pale eyebrow, the ghost of a smile touching her lips. “Three of your sisters? Just how many do you have?”
“Five sisters and two brothers. You?”
The warm light in her eyes faded, to be replaced by ice. “A sister,” she muttered, looking away. “My brother died when I was young.”
And Maddie felt guilty about it. He wanted to ask why, but knew he’d pushed enough for one day. “Tell me about the cabin you saw.”
She shivered and rubbed her arms. “It was an old log cabin. I could see the gaps between the logs, so it wasn’t insulated or anything.”
“There are probably dozens of cabins fitting that description, but at least it gives me somewhere to start.”
She frowned at him. “Gives us somewhere to start, you mean.”
He really did admire her determination, even if it also annoyed him. “I don’t intend to argue about this—”
“Good, because I’m going.”
Jon swore softly but knew he couldn’t afford to say any more—at least not here at the inn where his voice might be heard.
The heat in the room was quickly abating. Maddie pushed warm strands of hair from her eyes, then crossed her arms. It was more a defensive action than an attempt to stave off the rising chill in the a
ir. The fire, he noted, definitely wasn’t the source of the earlier warmth.
“How are you going to get out of the inn without being seen?” she asked.
“Same way I got in—via a window.”
He rolled his shoulder. It still ached—and probably would for days yet—but he had the full range of movement back. And that meant a brief flight to the heavily treed park just down the road from the shops shouldn’t cause too many problems. Replacing his missing clothes had to be his first priority. He might not feel the cold that much, but walking around in short sleeves would only draw unwanted attention—and that was something he certainly didn’t need right now. Then he’d go retrieve his truck—which had, no doubt, been towed away from the three-hour parking zone where he’d left it. With a bit of luck, the weapons he’d stashed in the specially built compartment would still be there.
She raised an eyebrow. “And where will I meet you?”
He scratched his head but knew there was no getting rid of her. Not this time. “There’s a small café called Emerson’s near the bridge.” He’d heard it mentioned the night he disappeared. There was an odd chance he still might find a clue there. Besides, he was still hungry, even after eating the breakfast she’d ordered. “Get us a table, and I’ll meet you there in an hour.”