Hostage by Kay Hooper Page B

before. How long have you been a telepath?”
    Matter-of-factly, she said, “Born one. As soon as I could talk, I was freaking my parents out telling them what they were thinking.” A fleeting smile crossed her face. “And learning a
lot
more about all kinds of things kids aren’t supposed to know.”
    “How soon did they have you in therapy?”
    This time, the smile lingered, a bit wry. “I was lucky. Psychic abilities run in the family, reportedly going back generations. Between my grandmother’s Sight and my aunt’s ability to talk to the dead, telepathy wasn’t such a big deal. Once everybody got used to it. And once they taught me to begin building my shields
and
to keep it to myself whenever the odd thought from someone else slipped through, especially if they weren’t family.”
    “Which you did. Keep it to yourself, I mean.”
    “Sure. Even kids know that to be different is to attract the wrong kind of attention. Especially kids. Didn’t want to be considered a freak. Besides, it gave me even more motivation to build strong shields so I could shut out the mental chatter all around me at will. I’ve had a lifetime to make those shields very, very strong.”
    “So . . . what? You dropped them with me?”
    “I was curious. You send and receive. Not so common.”
    He debated with himself for a silent moment, then said, “Far as I know, I’ve never sent or received with anyone else. And I’ve been tested, like we all are.”
    Callie didn’t seem disturbed. “Must be right on my frequency then. Bishop and Miranda are too.”
    Like all Haven operatives, Luther knew who they were talking about, even though he had not met either of the FBI agents. “Yeah, but they’re both telepaths, and strong ones. I’m not.”
    “News for you. You’re a telepath now. I’m guessing you got a little bit too close to the energy around Cole Jacoby. It’s powerful stuff. Powerful enough to trigger a latent ability. Maybe even create one.”
    Luther also knew what all operatives and agents knew, that external energy from various sources could affect, even change, a psychic’s abilities. Sometimes drastically. Such as activating what had been a completely unknown, latent ability. Like flipping a switch. But . . . creating one?
    “There’s energy around him?”
    “Definitely.”
    “I didn’t feel anything. When I was there.”
    “Didn’t you?” Her gaze was steady.
    Luther thought back, then sighed. “I don’t know, maybe I did. It’s hard to say because that sort of thing isn’t normal for me. I tend not to pick up energy of any kind unless I’m touching something
and
concentrating. The only thing I touched near Jacoby were a few trees.” He glanced down at his leg. “And . . . a bullet.”
    “Which he touched when he loaded his gun.” Callie shook her head slightly. “I didn’t feel anything unusual when I dug it out of you. But we both know any energy it might have held could have been discharged earlier.”
    “Into me?”
    “I suppose it’s possible. But I’m no expert when it comes to the . . . transference of energy. Not really my job to figure out the why of all this. From what I’m told, the SCU and Haven operatives are adding a hell of a lot of empirical data to scientific understanding of just how energy works. Still a lot more questions than answers, though.”
    Luther frowned, considered a few unsettling possible consequences to himself, then dismissed it as something to deal with later, if and when he had to. “This energy you say is around Jacoby. Is it created by him?”
    “Not sure yet whether he’s the source; I didn’t get the chance to explore the area around that cabin before he got here, and so far I haven’t caught him venturing very far away.”
    “So it could be coming from the area rather than from him.” Luther was very carefully not thinking about any change in his own abilities. Not yet. He suspected his mind wasn’t quite ready to deal with that