Soul Whisperer by Jenna Kernan Page B

asked her next question.
    â€œDid you try to take the memory, Cesar?”
    When their eyes met he saw the accusation there. She was smart, this one. She would make a marvelous ally and a terrible enemy.
    â€œI didn’t know I could not take it back.”
    â€œSo this is some game you play. Confessing your secrets and then stealing them back?”
    When he first touched her he discovered that he couldn’t use his Truth Seeking gift on her. Why had he assumed that his Memory Walking would work on her? Had his need to unburden himself so blinded him that he could not see the real possibility that she would recall everything?
    â€œI’ve never spoken of this to anyone.”
    She nodded her acceptance of this. “I’m not sure that counts since you believed I wouldn’t remember.”
    He had just wanted to connect with another like him, if only for a moment. But his attempt had backfired, exploding in his face like a mortar.
    Bess lifted a scoop of cobbler onto her fork. “Seems you’ll have to deal with the fallout.”
    She slipped the bite of red cobbler into her mouth. It appeared she had trouble swallowing. It made him pause to study her reaction, instead of dwelling on his own. Upset, he decided, judging from the erratic pulse of her aura. But was she upset by what he had just tried to pull or by what he had revealed? He didn’t know but was quite certain she wouldn’t let him touch her right now.
    Bess set her fork upon the plate and gave the dish a little nudge away from her. Then she lifted her dark eyes to him.
    â€œI’ve spoiled your appetite.”
    She didn’t deny it.
    â€œDo you pray for him?”
    They both knew that to enter the Spirit World a man or woman must walk the Red Road and live a life of balance and responsibility to oneself, one’s community and to the earth. Otherwise a soul was condemned to the Circle of Ghosts. Once there, only time and the earnest prayers of the living might bring release. Was she implying that Carlos needed his prayers?
    â€œHe was ten. What sins could he have had?”
    â€œJust a question.”
    She could find Carlos, he realized. Sweat popped out on Cesar’s face, drenched his back and armpits. She could actually speak to him. Cesar’s ears buzzed again. He was unsure if he wanted to ask her to do that. He did not want to be in her debt, nor was he certain he could bear to hear from his brother. His heart seemed to shrink into a hard lump, like a clod of cold mud.
    â€œI pray for him every day.” He lifted the cup and drained the contents. It was dark and bitter, like his thoughts.
    Cesar bobbled the cup and it clattered to the saucer. Bess said nothing.
    The waiter presented the bill and he offered his card. He was helping Bess on with her coat, which had reappeared, when the card was returned and they headed out.
    Cesar offered Bess his elbow, uneasy now, as if the ground beneath him was no longer level. He tried to suppress his surprise when she took it.
    It was so unexpected to have someone know what he was and still not flinch when he touched her. He let his fingers brush her neck, experiencing again the electric sizzle that passed between them. What was that, anyway?
    He lifted his cell phone but she shook her head.
    â€œLet’s walk a bit.”
    â€œThe air is damp and you need to take it easy.” She didn’t argue but simply withdrew her arm and turned away from the road, walking down the pier. The woman was obviously used to doing as she liked.
    He walked at her side, breathing in the salty mist that made the lights hazy. When they reached the end, they stood side by side. The waves slapped against the pylons with a rhythmic thrum he could feel through the soles of his shoes. The motion reminded him of the pounding rhythm of sex. He checked to see if Bess was shivering, but she seemed warmer than he was. She stood with her nose lifted to the wind, which blew her thick