“Do you need another anchor?” Kaden asked.
Nicolas hesitated. He didn’t want Dahlia to need another anchor, but if they wanted the energy to quit feeding the fire, Kaden could help draw it from Dahlia. “Just put your hands on her shoulders.”
The others quickly doused the flames in the house and worked to extinguish the ones outside. Dahlia stood between the two men, her body trembling and her head throbbing with pain. Anger could produce fire faster than anything else. She had to keep working at not being angry with herself. Why hadn’t she been prepared for such a thing? The moment she was calm enough she pulled away from them. “I have to go outside right now.”
Nicolas watched her go. “She’s heading for the roof, but she’ll believe she can never be with people after this.” He shook his head. “I know what she’s feeling right now, and it’s not good. I should have briefed you all on the severity of the repercussions of her talents.”
“Let me see if I can talk to her, Nico,” Kaden suggested. “I’m an anchor, and if I can convince her she can have a fairly decent conversation with me, she might try again.”
Nicolas fought down the completely humiliating and ridiculous jealousy he couldn’t quite suppress. It annoyed him more than any other trait. It was something he thought petty and unworthy of a man. Kaden was a trusted friend, and he was honestly trying to help. In any case, Nicolas would stay out of sight, but near enough if Dahlia needed him.
“Talk about Lily, Kaden,” Nicolas advised. His voice sounded a little too tense for his liking, but he forced a quick, grateful smile. “I’ll be close in case she decides to take off.”
Kaden nodded and went up the side of the house, moving quickly across the roof. Dahlia sat on the highest pitch, pale lavender balls spinning through her fingers as she looked out over the water while the wind tugged at her hair. She looked very alone.
She didn’t look up when he moved up beside her and sat down. “In case there were too many of us introducing ourselves, I’m Kaden.” He smiled, in what he hoped was a friendly fashion.
She rubbed her chin on her knees and breathed deep to keep the tension inside of her from exploding out. Berating herself for her lack of control hadn’t helped get rid of all the energy. “You’re what Nicolas refers to as an anchor, aren’t you,” she confirmed, pressing her lips together.
She was moving spheres through her fingers fast. Kaden found it almost hypnotic. “Yes, I can draw strong emotions away from the others so they can better function on a mission, but the emotions don’t amplify my own the way the energy does you. We must seem a bit overwhelming to you. When men go into combat together they develop a certain camaraderie and often joke with one another to ease the tension.” He watched her closely, feeling her emotions, knowing she was on the edge of flight. “Lily wanted to come with us, but we convinced her you would prefer she looked after your friend. Ryland is with her, and no one will get past him if he’s on guard.”
Dahlia made herself answer him when her heart was pounding and conflicting emotions swirled hotly inside of her. “That’s good.” Being with the men only brought her to the realization that she couldn’t ever have the life she dreamed of. There would be no house in Lily’s neighborhood. No barbecues in the backyard with her friends. Her emotions were too close to the surface. She wasn’t like Nicolas—no matter how hard she tried, she didn’t have his discipline, his self-control.
Why she felt so threatened, so afraid, she had no idea. Maybe she didn’t really want Lily to be a living, breathing person. Dahlia couldn’t bear to be disappointed. To find Lily different than the illusion she’d built up. Or maybe it was more than that. Dahlia rubbed her chin harder on her knees. Maybe the thought of Lily alive and well and happy in the world while Dahlia had to be alone was too much to bear. Dahlia hoped she wasn’t that petty, but suspected she was. “Did anyone say if Jesse was going to live?” she asked, determined to try to appear normal.
Kaden shook his head. “He’s in intensive care. They operated on his legs and gave him massive amounts of blood. The doctors couldn’t believe he was still alive, but he’s hanging in there. I think he has a good chance.”
“And Ryland was warned not to trust any of the agents from the NCIS, right?”
“He’s been alerted. How in the world did the Naval Criminal Investigative Service manage to recruit you? You weren’t twenty-one when you began working for them nor did you have a bachelor’s degree, which I believe is essential to fulfill the requirements.”
“That’s true, but I’d been in training since I was a child and I was tutored, so yes, in spite of not having attended college, I could pass anything they threw at me. And the bottom line was, I could provide a service no one else could.” Her fingers slid over and around the set of spheres, moving them continually, not noticing when they took to the air above her fingertips.
Kaden tried not to stare at the spinning balls levitating just above her hand. She was in a great emotional turmoil, and he had the feeling she might bolt at any moment. “What do you do for the NCIS?”
Her dark gaze moved over his face. “All of you have security clearance. Didn’t Lily find that out when she was researching me?”
“Not exactly. We knew Calhoun worked as an agent for them so the natural progression was that you did as well. Your identity is buried a whole lot deeper than Calhoun’s.”
“That’s good to know.” But it meant she was right. No one had discovered her identity; they’d found her because someone in the NCIS had betrayed her as well as Jesse. Jesse had suffered for it and could very well die. She sighed and kept the balls spinning in the air above her fingertips, concentrating on them so that the energy rising from her confused emotions could be used as fast as she produced it. “I do recovery work mostly. I retrieve things that belong to the government. If we can’t get them back any other way, or secrecy is imperative, I’m their woman.”
Her heart hurt. Actually hurt. She had to keep from pressing her hand against her chest. She could barely breathe. It took all of her concentration to appear normal to the GhostWalker when the energy pouring into her and around her was building to explosive levels a second time. She remembered sitting so many hours on the roof of her home, wondering why she wasn’t like everyone else. She remembered moving through the streets at night and stopping to listen to mothers crooning to babies. One woman in particular had caught her attention. She rocked her baby on the front porch and sang softly to the child. Dahlia had gone home and wrapped her small raggedy blanket around her and sang the song to herself, rocking to try to feel whole just once. She detested pity parties, and she was in a full-blown one, unable to rise above it.