LogansEmpath by Jenna Castille Page B

his
comrade.”
    “And they kill the demons, together? She helps in the fight,
doesn’t stay home and wait for her man to return alive? She makes her own kills
in battle?”
    “Yes, and they do it well.” So preoccupied with killing.
There is a story here. “Why do you want the demons dead and why did you say
earlier that you didn’t trust in the warriors’ protections?”
    Sabine reached over for a small stick on the ground, pulling
it apart as she spoke. “I come from another village. My family was slaughtered
by the demons there. The whole village was. I nearly died as well.”
    Laughlin thought for a moment of his own family, his own
village. An all-too-familiar reason to join the fight. “So you want
revenge.”
    “Yes.” She tossed the stick, watching as it kicked up a puff
of dust. “Is that so bad?”
    “Not entirely, no. Many warriors come to us from a desire
for vengeance.” Laughlin considered a previous vision, one filled with a hope
for peace and an explanation for the creatures. “But I believe that those
negative feelings are what make it possible for the demons to come to our
world.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes. But I can tell you more of that later. That is, if you
plan to come with me back to the warriors’ camp.” Laughlin stood, dusting off
his clothes. He tried not to make his next words seem as important as they
were. “Would you join us?”
    Sabine stared off in the distance. “I could fight them. I
could make a difference.” She turned to look up at him. “Would I be staying
with you? You said the other woman worked with someone like you.”
    “I’d like that. It’s what I’ve seen in my visions. You would
work with me and my comrade, Brandr.” Laughlin took a final chance, kneeling
and reaching out to touch her hand. “Would you be all right with that?”
    She stared at his hand on hers. Laughlin had started to fear
that he had pushed too hard when she flipped her hand over beneath his and held
on. “It’s a place to start.”
    “It certainly is.”~

Chapter Thirteen
     
    The lunch crowd was as busy as normal, even with the rain
that started sometime the night before still pouring. Dishes clanked and voices
echoed and laughed, the sound comforting in its familiarity. The cafe was
packed with regulars and Bree should’ve had nothing to think about except for
work. But even while running her feet off she couldn’t give her surroundings
her entire focus. Between flashbacks of the night before with Logan and her
inability to block out the emotions of other people, Bree worked on autopilot.
    Logan. I never thought I’d ever meet a man like him. Sexy
and strong. The kind of guy who can make my knees melt with a glance. He seems
honorable, caring even. But more importantly, he understands me and my life.
He’s one hell of a fighter. So I have to be careful. He’s dangerous.
    I refuse to fall in love. I don’t have it in me to fall
in love, not in a world so full of violence and the possibility of imminent
death.
    As she renewed that vow to herself, she slid a plate in
front of a perpetually smiling woman, Mrs. Douglas, an older teacher at
Browningsville Elementary. Without meaning to, Bree brushed the edges of Mrs.
Douglas’ emotions, completely unprepared for the paralyzing grief that filled
her to the point of explosion. Her husband had passed six months before of lung
cancer, but she’d seemed to be dealing well. Bree didn’t know if she wanted to offer
the woman comfort or to completely avoid her.
    But how could a person deal with so much pain without
someone, like family, to support her?
    Bree almost reached out to squeeze Mrs. Douglas’ shoulder.
She pulled her hand back just in time. How could she explain her reaction?
Would her sympathy make the woman feel better or that much worse?
    Bree felt a wave of concern flowing toward her from behind.
She turned to see Ty staring at her from the other side of the counter. He
worried about her, like all her brothers. But Ty