Tansy pulled on the protective gloves and stood at the table, peering down at the ivory game pieces. She’d already felt the surges of energy, some much more potent than others, and now that she was tuned, the collective pieces gave off a frightening vortex of energy, whirling into one violent mass. Even with the gloves covering her skin, the violence was tangible as she leveled her palm over the top of the last ivory piece from the East Coast.
Without actually touching it, Tansy studied the intricately detailed knife. The blade was sharp and had tiny notches in it. She frowned. Ordinarily she would think the notches might be imperfections, but the carver was too good and had too big of an ego to let anything he worked on be less than perfect.
“The puppet master believes he’s smarter than everyone else and he wants them to see him without really seeing. He wants his genius to be in front of them, easy to read, but not to really ‘get’ it. That way, he can gloat and prove to himself over and over that he’s superior, even to enhanced psychics.”
“Is he enhanced?”
She drew a breath, allowing her palms to be so close only a piece of paper could separate her from the game piece. The surge of energy was potent and filled with violence. The one she had dubbed “Blade” was definitely a dominant. She wondered what Kadan’s energy would feel like if he wasn’t shielding her. She imagined it would be something like this. Waves of force, relentless and sure. Blade had to be the East Coast team leader of the game. She didn’t want to read him right now; she was trying to get a feel for the puppet master.
“I can’t tell. Not like this. His energy is very subtle, but I think he weaves it that way.”
Tansy concentrated on the ego, the biggest part of him. The man was fastidious; she had the impression of someone who was very conscious of his clothes and style. He wanted to look well groomed, a GQ man. He wanted to appear cool and sophisticated without drawing attention to himself. He had money . . . She pulled her hands away abruptly, another piece of the puzzle falling into place.
“This is about money.”
Kadan frowned. She was already pale, the drain on her tremendous, and they’d barely gotten started. He could feel the energy in her mind, dark and violent, swirling with edges of red, but she hadn’t immersed herself in it at all. “What’s about money, Tansy?” Sometimes he thought she put herself in a trance, her eyes opaque and distant, gleaming with that violet-silver shine.
“The murder game. It’s all about money. That’s your connection.”
He shook his head. “I looked into insurance payoffs. A few of them had insurance. One or two left a hefty inheritance for a family member, but the majority don’t have enough money attached to raise a flag.”
“The two boys. The ones Frog killed. Did they have insurance on them?” Tansy sank into a chair because her legs felt rubbery.
“Why question that particular murder?”
“There couldn’t be another motive. Who would want to kill two high school boys who were smart, weren’t robbed, and probably had never done anything to anyone in their lives? I got the impression from them that they had barely started their lives. They were shocked. Frog didn’t want to kill them; in fact, he was upset with the puppet master and the others on his team and the other team. Really upset. He asked forgiveness and even went so far as promising revenge. He didn’t want to kill them, yet he chose those two boys. They weren’t random victims. You’re going on the assumption that each of these murders was random, but Frog’s murder wasn’t. He had to fulfill some contract . . .” She broke off and looked up at him in shock. “Contract murders? Could this game be about paid hits?”
Kadan automatically shook his head. How could that be? A game? But even as he was denying the possibility, her reasoning somehow fit. Her mind worked differently, taking pieces, discarding them, and trying them in ways no one else might think of. Another gift. A talent she didn’t recognize.
“Don’t touch anything until I get back.” He didn’t want to leave her, not when information was pouring into her mind, and he was afraid she might grasp the game piece now that she had a trail to follow. “I mean it, Tansy, wait for me.”
Tansy found it difficult to resist the lure of the ivory blade. The notches meant something to either the carver or the owner of the piece. Which was it? Her mind refused to stop racing for more details. Once she was on the scent, she found it nearly impossible to focus on anything else, and the energy of both men was much more potent in this piece.
“Tansy,” Kadan’s voice was sharp. “I said no.”
He caught her wrist, the sound of his palm hitting her arm loud in the silence of the room. She blinked up at him, a little distracted by his presence.
“I need to . . .”
“No.” He kept possession of her hand. “I went to check on the file in the war room. The boys were half brothers and the insurance on them was heavy for kids that age. Mother inherits. She’d only recently remarried. Boys had different fathers, and the third husband seems to have gotten along with the boys and was broken up about the whole thing.”
“Did you interview them?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t had the chance. I got my orders, read everything, and knew I needed you, so I went looking for you.”
“But either the mother or the stepfather could have hired someone to kill the boys.” Tansy made it a statement, but she was frowning, shaking her head. “Something is just a little off kilter, Kadan. I need to get stronger impressions. I need to actually handle it.”
“With gloves.”
“I won’t get what we want. You said we’d have to solve this fast. I know your friends didn’t do this, but whoever wants all of you dead is going to use the murders as an opportunity to get rid of them. By the time the real murderers are found, it will be too late.”
He didn’t want her pulling off the gloves. She’d be annihilated by the violent energy. He could feel waves pushing at her mind, and she merely had her hands close to the game piece.
“We need to know.”
He pulled her off the chair and sat down. “Sit on my lap.”
“Kadan.” It was a protest. She frowned at him, pushing at the long blond hair falling around her face. “What are you doing?”
“Protecting you. Sit on me. I’m going to keep my arms around you, my hands on your wrists. If I tell you to drop that thing and you don’t, I’ll be in a better position to force it out of your hand. We both know this is dangerous to you.”