Free Bringing Benjy Home (Security Ops) by Kylie Brant

As an afterthought, she inquired about Jaida’s preferences, turning quickly away when Jaida shook her head.
    “That’s exactly what I mean,” she muttered, intercepting the easy smile he bestowed on the woman. “You’ve got hot-and-cold running charisma, and you use it so effortlessly when you want to. But it’s nothing but a means to an end. If anyone is a fake around here, it’s you .”
    He tamped down his annoyance with conscious effort. The fact that her words had a grain of truth to them only fed his irritation. That certainly didn’t mean he gave credence to any special powers she claimed, only that, as he’d suspected, frauds like her made a study of human nature. And he’d been admittedly lax about keeping his opinions of her and her abilities to himself.
    “Do you have any other pearls of wisdom for me, or are you going to let me eat these—” he raised his food packages “—in peace?”
    Her stomach roiled. “You should be aware—” she managed the words through suddenly dry lips “—that I’m a straightforward person, and I expect to be treated the same. I don’t like games.”
    “And you should be aware that any games I play, I play to win.”
    It was clear that he considered the conversation at an end. Jaida wouldn’t have been able to continue it at any rate. Oxygen suddenly seemed in short supply, and her stomach was doing gymnastics.
    It was several minutes before Trey glanced at her again. He noted her pasty complexion and the dampness that had appeared on her forehead. Swearing silently, he took immediate action, placing one hand on the back of her head and forcing it between her knees. “Breathe,” he ordered. “Deeply.” He grasped her free hand in his and squeezed tightly. “That’s it,” he said encouragingly, ignoring the current that transferred from her palm to his, and her efforts to extricate herself. “Slow, deep breaths. It’s mind over matter.”
    Jaida gasped at the jolt of raw electricity that sprang between them when he took her hand. Heat flowed from his hand to hers, with an accompanying charge of energy. When he didn’t release her after a few seconds, the expected happened. The nausea, heat and electric charge faded and she felt as though she were being hurled at Mach-I speed down a wind tunnel. Colors swirled wildly behind her eyelids, and then the colors receded, to be replaced with snippets of images, disconnected fragments that formed fleeting mental pictures.
    Smoke and fire poured from the ruined building. Trey stumbled out of it, almost falling under the burden he carried. People were racing past him, and finally he fell to his knees, sliding the man he’d hauled out of the building to the ground. A pool of blood formed around them, and Trey’s face was a mask of anguish and determination. She could feel his pain as sharply as if she were experiencing it herself, and something else, a combination of fury and fear. A litany pounded through his head. Don’t die, don’t die, c’mon, Mac, don’t die on me now!
    Jaida finally managed to wrest her hand free from Trey’s at the same time that he let her raise her head. She pulled away from him and huddled deep in the corner of her seat. Her eyes were wide and her breath came in pants. Color had returned to her cheeks, a deep pink flush that didn’t look any healthier than her former paleness.
    “Are you sure you’re okay?” Trey asked, his voice tinged with reluctant concern.
    She raised a hand, as if by doing so she could keep him from reaching for her again. “Yes . . . I’m better. I’m fine. Just don’t . . .” Touch me .
    After piercing her with a long stare, Trey gave a shrug and turned away. Reopening his magazine, he turned his attention to an article on computers.
    After several long minutes Jaida’s breathing slowed, and she straightened in her seat. Noting that her hands still had a tendency to tremble, she clasped them tightly in her lap. Never had she experienced a vision as