‘Victor put us on code red. It means we can’t communicate outside the immediate family.’

I couldn’t help wondering where that put me in his order of priorities. He’d claimed I was his soulfinder after al .

‘We don’t know who might be listening in to our cal s. I should’ve found a way to get a message to you but I was afraid to use telepathy.’

‘Why?’

‘That’s the bad news. We think they’ve got a savant on the assassin team. They shouldn’t have been able to get so close to us. Dad’s gift is to sense danger. He should have known they were out there unless they were shielded by a powerful savant. You can listen in on telepathy just as you can with speech if you have the gift. I didn’t want anything I did to tip them off about you.’

‘So it’s not just your family who can do telepathy?’

‘No, there are a number of us we know about—

and I guess many that we don’t. You can turn a gift to evil as easily as choose to use it for good. The temptation is there, particularly for those who don’t have the balance of a soulfinder.’ He rubbed his chin against my hair. ‘You’re my balance, Sky. I was already slipping before I met you. I can’t tel you what it means to me that you saved me from that grey existence.’

‘You were slipping?’

‘Yeah, big time. I’m not a nice person without you.

It was becoming pretty tempting to use my gift to get my way, no matter how unfair or what the cost to other people was.’ He grimaced, uncomfortable with what he was revealing about himself. ‘You’ve given me enough hope now to hold on until you’re ready to unlock your gift. Once that’s done, there’s no chance I’l ever return to what I was.’

‘But you’re not safe yet?’ I hadn’t realized I was holding him back. If something went wrong and he lost his balance, it would be my fault, wouldn’t it, for not being brave enough to examine what was inside me? ‘What should I do?’

He shook his head. ‘Nothing. You need time. I’m more worried about getting this right for you than I am about me.’

‘But I worry about you.’

‘Thanks, but let’s give you the space you need and deal with what we have to so we can keep you safe.’

Savant

assassins—could

this

real y

be

happening? The bul ets had been genuine enough—I didn’t doubt them. ‘You think this savant has turned bad?’

‘Yeah, he was working with the shooter. He might stil be listening in—we just don’t know. Telepathy over a distance is harder to channel to just the right person. We haven’t come up against this before. We should have anticipated this.’

I sensed he was being hard on himself, frustrated that he didn’t have al the answers for me. ‘Why should you have done? You’ve only just got dragged in to this through the witness thing. When the trial’s over, won’t the threat pass?’

‘Not exactly.’ He looked a bit guilty for a moment, alerting me to the fact he hadn’t been completely straight with me.

‘Not exactly!’

‘We aren’t just witnesses—we’re investigators. It’s not just the latest trial—my family have combined their gifts to put away hundreds over the years. It’s what we do.’

‘So that means you have more enemies?’

‘If they knew that we were behind their conviction

—but they are not supposed to find out. Our information is used to steer the authorities to find evidence that wil hold up in court. Our place isn’t on the witness stand but behind the scenes.’

The ful impact of what he was tel ing me took a while to set in. They were like a secret weapon for the law enforcers, up against evil day after day. ‘How do you do it?’

He shut his eyes briefly. ‘We work together—we see what happened.’

‘You see it? See al that awful stuff—the kil ings—

the crimes?’

‘If we ignored what happened, that’d be worse.

We’d share part of the guilt if we didn’t act to stop crimes when we can.’

‘But you suffer for it, don’t you?’

He shrugged. ‘What’s that compared to the good we can do?’

I realized then that the Benedicts were brave and dedicated, putting aside their own ambitions to use their savant skil s. They could be off seeking their soulfinders, but instead they risked everything to help victims of crime. But it also meant they would never be normal, never free to emerge from the shadows, stuck reliving the ugly scenes caused by the most vicious criminals. They had chosen the more difficult path; I didn’t have it in me to be so noble. My life had been lived too much in shadows. I couldn’t go back there—not even for Zed.

‘I’m scared, Zed.’

‘I don’t think there’s any threat to you as long as we aren’t seen together out of school. I haven’t even told my family about you. The only way I can think to protect you is by keeping my distance. If the rogue savant knew you were my soulfinder, it would put you in the centre of the target.’

‘That’s not what I meant. I’m scared you’re going to get hurt.’

‘We’ve got it under control now.’

‘But you’re going to have to keep hiding, aren’t you?’

‘I don’t want to think about that.’

‘Can I help? Is there some way I can make this easier for you?’

He shook his head. ‘It would mean you releasing your gift and, as I said, I don’t think that would be a good idea yet.’

‘Releasing my gift? What does that mean? You savants speak in riddles.’

He laughed. ‘Us savants, you mean. And if your gift were free, then you’d light up like I do when you’re with me.’

I nestled closer to him, running my fingers over his chest, feeling as if I was leaving lines of fire behind.

His heart picked up its beat. ‘I already feel pretty sparkly.’

He kissed my hair, a gesture so tender it brought tears to my eyes. ‘That’s good—but you’d better stop doing that or we’l both be in trouble.’ He caught my fingers in his hand, pressing them to his shirt.

‘Zed, is this al real?’

‘Yeah, it is. Your gift’s just waiting for you to reach for it.’

‘I’m afraid to do that.’

He rested his chin on the top of my head. ‘I know.

And I can wait—as long as you need. Come, sit on my lap for a moment.’

He led me over to the drum kit and sat on the stool.

‘You want me to sit on your lap there? I’l fal off.’

‘Not if you sit facing me.’

I laughed but it sounded kinda sad. ‘This is crazy.’

‘Maybe. But I’m going to enjoy it.’

I sat on his lap so I could rest my head on his chest, arms wrapped around him.

‘You hold on now, you hear?’

‘Uh-huh.’

He took the drumsticks and began to play the percussion part for the song we had first performed together as the jazz band. I hummed along.

‘We could real y do with the piano but I don’t want you to move,’ he said softly in my ear.

‘We can imagine it.’

The beat was slow and hypnotic. Calming. I closed my eyes, listening as he began crooning the words to ‘Hal elujah’. He had a nice voice—a tenor, pitch perfect.

‘You just gonna sit there or sing with me?’ he asked.

‘I’m just gonna sit.’

‘What’s wrong with your voice?’

‘I don’t sing. Never have—not for a long time.’

‘There’s only me here. I won’t laugh.’

Al my life, singing had been a no-go area. I didn’t want to bring that into this lovely moment. ‘I’l just listen.’

‘OK. But I’l get you singing yet.’

The weeks that fol owed were frustrating for both of us. Only able to sneak a few moments alone at school, we could never just be together. We had to be careful not to be label ed a couple by other students in case word got out to whoever was after Zed’s family. This led to guilt as I had to lie to my closest friends about what was going on. And there was stil Zed’s premonition to worry about—he was angry because he couldn’t stick to my side to keep me safe and I was getting jumpy any time I was out after dark. The whole situation added up to major stress for us both. Two threats too many.