Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Fisting her hands, Auden shook her head. “So much kindness,” she said, her voice rough. “So many strangers helping us.” A tremor. “No one ever warned me that the outside world could be so good.”
A sheen in her eyes, she said, “But I don’t want a life in hiding for my baby. I want freedom for her. I want her to be able to live life unfettered.” Protective fury in every word. “To do that, I have to unlock the box of secrets my mother left behind.”
“We,” Remi corrected, cradling her face. “If you think I’m letting you walk into that snake pit alone, then you have no idea who I am, Cupcake.”
“Cupcake?” Her lower lip quivered.
He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the fullness of it. “Cinnamon roll didn’t have the same ring.”
“Cupcakes are sweet and pretty.”
“And delicious and bitable.”
She flushed before her hands closed over his wrists, her fingers long and slender and her eyes stark and brilliant. “I have a vague memory of overhearing a conversation—I didn’t have to lurk or eavesdrop. Most of the time, I was standing right there, spaced-out, but…the odd thing got through.
“Charisma and Dr. Verhoeven were arguing, with Charisma saying I was in no state to carry a pregnancy, while the doctor was saying it had to be me, that I was the only viable candidate and that…”
Remi’s leopard prowled against his skin. “What?”
“How they said I was the only viable carrier.” She frowned. “It’s factually wrong. Members of our family have used professional surrogates. Strong telepaths, of course, but not blood related to the Scotts. It’s not the preferred option, is in fact heavily discouraged—unless it’s the only viable option. That exception should’ve applied if their other choice was a woman with brain damage who might do something to cause harm to the child.”
Remi wondered how she didn’t see it—probably because she was too close. “Has to be psychic stuff. A psychic mother must affect the child’s development in a way they couldn’t be certain they could replicate in a surrogate.”
Auden made a face. “As far as psychic powers go, I’m the weakest of the weak according to my family’s way of measuring such things. I could be a cardinal but as a psychometric, I’d still be at the bottom rung of the ladder.” She worried the edge of her shirt sleeve with her other hand, but her eyes were unfocused, her thoughts inward.
“I also had neural deficits at the time, deficits that were believed to be permanent,” she said. “They could’ve locked me up in a med ward, but even so, a scared and mentally distraught mother would’ve nullified any psychic gain.”
Remi gave a slow nod. “Which leaves you with the same question with which you started. What’s so special about your brain that makes you and your daughter so valuable to them?”
Auden swallowed. “I have strange dreams,” she said, the words a near-whisper. “Even when I was unconscious, I feel like I dreamed. Of a web created of glittering blue spidersilk against a night sky. I’m not scared in the dream. I feel wonder.”
“A link to your ability?”
“It’s possible it’s an echo of an imprint I don’t remember, but…” Shivering, she rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms. “It’s as eerie as it’s lovely but at times, it feels like it’s coming from the outside in.” She stroked the top of the incubator. “As if it’s from another Auden.”
His leopard rumbled in rage at being unable to fight this for her—because this battle was inside her brain, far from his claws and his anger. “You’re planning to go back into the Scott home.”
“Yes. Only me. Never her.” Her jaw tightened.
Arms folded, Remi worked through the possible options. “Chances they’ll guess she’s here?”
“Nil. It just wouldn’t come up as a possibility in their thoughts—perhaps it would if you were that big leopard pack out in California with prior Psy contacts, but right now—”
“—right now we’re a barely noticeable blip on their radar,” Remi completed. “You also have access to funds that mean you could’ve hired a teleporter to send her someplace far away.”
“Yes. A fact I’ll make clear.” Auden’s face was grim. “I don’t know if Charisma was ever aware of my trust fund—Henry signed it over to me at fifteen, an irrevocable transfer his family likely has no idea was done, it was so many years ago.” A hitch in her breath. “He loved me once, I think. As much as my father could love anyone.”
Remi knew all about asshole fathers, understood her ambivalence about Henry. “My father got in touch with me about seven months after my mother’s death.”
“What did you do?” Auden asked softly with the understanding of a woman who knew the dueling desires of a child abandoned or abused.
“I’d always thought I’d punch him in the face, but when it came to it, I felt nothing.” Remi could still remember staring at the man who had eyes the same color as Remi’s and seeing nothing but a waste of space. “Part of it was probably grief over my mother’s death, but to this day, I don’t regret telling him I had nothing to say to him. Some choices, once made, you don’t get to walk back.”