Free A Templar's Gifts by Kat Black

curls. Her skin was pale, but light freckles covered much of it.
    Aine stirred and opened her eyes, and I felt as if I had been caught doing something wrong. Heat colored my cheeks. Her feelings were, thankfully, no longer pressing their way into my mind. But as I couldn’t read her, I was surprised when she asked, “What did ye do to William?”
    What should I do? Deny that I’d done anything or try to explain it? “I don’t really know. He made me sore angry.”
    Her gaze sharpened. “Aye. I get angry as well, but my thoughts are no’ enough to kill a man.” She sat up, breaking contact, and I felt both her fear and the determination she had to overcome it.
    â€œWell, I’m not so much like ye.” I rested my head on my arms and stared at her. “I’m different.” It was allI could say. How could I possibly explain any of this to her?
    â€œWe’re more alike than ye might credit. I am different as well,” she said softly. Her bright blue gaze held mine steadily and I could not look away.
    â€œWant to tell me about it?” I asked. My heart was beating strongly in my chest. I was taking a chance. Asking her to trust me.
    â€œTell me about ye, first,” she said.
    Trust asking for trust. I paused. She knew already something about the man’s death and my involvement. Her gaze was open and honest. I took a deep breath. “I have strange abilities. I can do things no other can,” I said.
    She nodded and the fear crackling beneath the surface of her seemed to settle. “As can I.” Her voice was almost too soft to hear. “What did ye do to William?”
    How could I explain it to her? “I convinced him that there were other things more important than hurting ye.”
    â€œAside from the how of it, he believed ye?”
    â€œNo. No’ at first.” The conversation was beginning to make me uncomfortable.
    â€œHow did ye convince him?” she persisted.
    I didn’t realize opening up to her would really mean telling her the whole truth. “It doesn’t matter. I hadto make him stop. He was hurting ye.” I wanted her to drop it. This was a mistake.
    â€œTormod, how did ye convince him? Please, tell me.” She would not leave it alone. Sweat was rising on my skin and I was growing agitated.
    â€œTormod!”
    â€œHe killed another girl, Aine! I convinced him ye knew where the body was.” There, I’d said it. Now maybe she would stop pestering.
    â€œYe saw his memories.” Her hand went to her mouth, and she whispered the words as if they frightened her more than anything.
    I nodded.
    â€œI did as well,” she said. “I knew what he’d done. It was there, in the barn. I can see things that have happened in the recent past,” she said. Her own words seemed to stun her.
    My mouth dropped and I gaped at her, shocked. I don’t know what I expected. Something about the singing, perhaps, but this ability was akin to my own.
    The shock on my face set off her ire. “What? Ye don’t think a lass could be like ye?”
    That was nearly exactly what I had been thinking. Could she read my mind? I was suddenly uneasy. “I just never knew any,” I said truthfully. “I thought ye’d speak o’ the singing. Ye surprised me.”
    â€œI do that as well. It’s this other thing that stands out more, though.”
    â€œHow d’ye mean ye see what’s past?”
    â€œWhen I come on a place, I can sometimes tell who has been to it recently or something that has happened there. It’s like an echo.” She was quiet, somber then. “I wish that I had known how to kill him.”
    â€œNo! Ye don’t. It’s terrible to bear the death of another, Aine. No matter what he did, he was a man an’ I took his life. I had no right,” I said.
    A wash of sadness rolled through her, then on to me. “What is it?” I