When Rachel Connolly—a Reverse Empath—and Franklin ‘Fluke’ Delano—a Probability Talent—meet in the course of capturing a would-be bomber, she knows that he knows she's attracted to him. He can't help it, no one in Rachel's vicinity can help knowing everything she feels. Fluke can disarm a bomb because he's just that lucky, but he's never met another woman who makes him feel the way Rachel does.
They have little time to explore their powerful connection before they must draw a mad super villain into the open. Mesmero can use others as his mindless puppets and before all is over, Rachel, Fluke, and the rest of Team Guardian must work tirelessly to stop the villain from carrying out his deadly plans to wreak revenge on those he imagines have wronged him.
David handed her a large to-go cup of coffee as soon as she made it to his side. “Mmm.” She took a deep swig while he turned her to face the main entrance of the building. He pointed.
“He’s got about a dozen people in there. The police are giving us this chance to go in before the SWAT. They’ve already had a negotiator on the phone with him. No luck.”
Rachel took a long deep breath, releasing it slowly. “Okay. Give me a minute here.”
“First, let me introduce your partner. He’ll be going in with you.”
“I work alone.” Rachel’s attention stayed on her breathing, keeping any annoyance, any emotional reactions under control in accordance with her well-practiced routine for inducing a state of inner peace.
“Not this time.” David understood her state. “Trust me. This guy will deal with the bomb—you deal with the bomber. This is Fluke. He’s a Probabilities Talent—just moved here from Chicago.”
The tall, well-built guy at David’s elbow raised one eyebrow quizzically. He looked more accustomed to aggravation and confrontation than to the feelings of serene compassion Rachel currently generated and projected around herself. Not a bad face that… She tamped down the stirring of her interest in his chiseled features, the finely turned lips surrounded by five o’clock shadow, and the dark eyes under shaggy dark hair. He wore his specs shoved back on his head.
Rachel extended a hand and let her benevolent smile encompass him. “A pleasure.” As usual in this state, she sounded abstracted, only half in the world of the others, the bulk of her attention turned to generating a state of peaceful serenity, building it up to project outward in an increasingly wider sphere.
Faced with this…interesting…man, it took some effort to stay focused on projecting waves of placidity like the laziest of all sleepy summer days wrapped in a dose of baby-curled-at-a-loving-mama’s-breast. She caught the spark of interest in the man’s eyes before David drew him aside.
“You feel it?” David, immune, asked Fluke. “That’s what’ll get you close. She’s a reverse empath, projects her feelings. She’ll shut down the bomber’s fear response, and the hostages’ too. No one will panic or do anything rash. You’ll be able to get access to the bomb to defuse it.”