Free Human Nature by Eileen Wilks Page B

out her shop, but he said she has an unusual Gift.”
    “What kind?”
    “I’m trying to remember. Earth, I think.”
    “Guess I’ll find out when I talk to her.” Most Gifts were associated with an element, yet were talent-specific. For example, precognition was associated with Fire, but a precog had no special power over fires. Clairvoyants were associated with water, but didn’t control the waves.
    Now and then, though, a Gift was strongly rooted in one of the elements, yet didn’t bring with it a specific magical talent. Like Cullen. He could call fire with a flick of his little finger, but his hunches weren’t any more reliable than anyone else’s.
    But those with elemental Gifts sometimes became strong spell-casters, if they could find training. Lily drummed her fingers on her thigh.
    They’d left the lights of Del Cielo behind about the same time the last of the light fled from the sky, and were winding along a narrow paved road. She couldn’t see much to either side—hills, mostly, with some kind of scruffy growth. Ahead was more curvy road. Empty road, no headlights. The darkness was punctuated by lights from houses here and there along the road, but she didn’t see any headlights.
    It was unnatural. They were in California, for God’s sake. There was supposed to be traffic. “What about Mariah?”
    “Idealistic, damaged, emotional.”
    “Does she have a Gift?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t think Cullen ever met her, and I wouldn’t have any way of telling.”
    “She lives with her father?”
    “No. She moved out when she was seventeen—or was kicked out. The story varies. She’d be twenty now. She dropped out of school and has worked a variety of jobs since, some of them probably intended to get her father’s attention, much as Jason said. She was working as a pole dancer, for example, the last time I saw her. But my impressions are a couple years old. I don’t know where she’s working now.”
    “Boyfriends?” If Steve wasn’t her baby’s father, someone else was.
    “In the plural, generally. Mariah is quite pretty, with a fragile air that many men find appealing.”
    “You don’t.”
    “No.” He shot her a grin as he slowed. She couldn’t see anything to slow down for, but she trusted that he had a reason. “I prefer warriors.”
    A warrior? Was that how he thought of her? Lily decided she liked that. “Give me your take on Robert Friar.”
    “Lupe was right. He hates. But he hates with patience and intelligence. He’s gregarious, but on his own terms—likes to entertain, but always with a goal in mind. He likes to stay in control, both of himself and others. And he likes to win.”
    “You’ve met him?”
    “We’ve been at a few parties. Political bashes—state, not national.”
    “Has Cullen met him?”
    “Not precisely met, no. If you want to know if Friar has a Gift, Cullen couldn’t read him.”
    “What?” Her head jerked to look at him. “What does that mean?”
    “Apparently Friar has some sort of natural shield. Cullen says that may indicate a blocked Gift of the psychic sort—telepathy, empathy, that sort of thing. There was something unusual about Friar’s shield, something that puzzled Cullen. He wasn’t able to explain what that was.”
    She frowned, considering. “I need to shake the man’s hand. According to his file, his wife died eight years ago. He’s never remarried. He likes women?”
    “He likes them compliant and well-endowed, from what I’ve seen. I believe sex is his weakness.”
    “What do you mean? Shit. Hold on a minute.”
    Her phone was chiming. It was the ringtone she’d assigned to Martin Croft, who was running the Unit with Ruben gone. She tapped the screen to accept the call. “Yu here.”
    “Yes, I am. And you’ve got to stop answering your phone that way. It brings out the worst in me.” Croft’s voice was smooth, but the humor seemed strained. “Have you listened to the news this afternoon?”
    “No. Kind of