LogansEmpath (4 page)

“I still don’t see why
I
have to.” Jordan pushed his
chair back and glared at his siblings. “I understood it when I was learning
about stuff that could help us—mythology, comparative religions, psychology,
criminology and the rest. But I did that. It isn’t fair that I get shoved out
just because I’m the youngest. Don’t you think I’ll worry about you when I’m
gone? Don’t you think I deserve a chance at revenge for Mom and Dad the same as
you?”

Without waiting for a reply, he threw his napkin on the
table and stormed out. His footsteps echoed as he stomped up the stairs to his
room. Aaron started to follow, his own expression thunderous, but Bree held up
her hand. “Don’t. He has a right to be upset. Give him some time to calm down before
talking to him.”

“He’s acting like a brat.”

“No, he’s acting like a young man who’s hurting. You know he
blames himself for not being here when Mom and Dad were attacked. He feels just
as guilty as any of us. Probably more so.” Bree looked around the table at her
brothers, feeling their discomfort and their own dull grief. “None of us would
be here, doing what we’re doing, if it wasn’t for guilt.”

“You know that it sucks not being able to hide our emotions
from our little sister, right?” Ty leaned over to ruffle her hair.

“Well, I’m surrounded by five massive testosterone
production plants all the time. You guys should have something you have to deal
with.” She gave a weak smile. “It’s only fair.”

“So since you are the best one at dealing with emotions, why
don’t we clean up down here and you see to the baby boy.” Ty said, smacking
Matt, who rolled his eyes but started picking up plates.

“He’s twenty-two, hardly a baby.” Matt carefully balanced a
growing tower of dishes. “No wonder he gets all defensive with you guys.”

“Hey, just be happy.” Wes gave her the grin and wink that
had broken hearts across half the county. “If it wasn’t for him,
you’d
be the baby.”

“Thank the lord for small favors.” Bree pushed away from the
table and left her brothers to the dishes. Out of all of her siblings, Bree
felt closest to Jordan and not just because they were the two youngest. She
understood how he struggled with wanting to stay here and take out the bastards
who’d killed their parents as well as trying to be true to their parents’
wishes that he get an education and a good-paying job. She knew that her folks
would be disappointed with her working as a waitress in Ty’s cafe, even if she
was a silent partner in the business. But it was steady work and kept her close
to the people of the town. Hopefully she could spot it if another person was
demon possessed, like their neighbors who’d killed their parents.

She had to protect the townspeople, since it was too late to
protect her family.

Jordan’s pain was similar. While he couldn’t have sensed
anything wrong with the couple who’d killed their parents, he was a man. Even
if he had only been fifteen at the time, the fact that he hadn’t been home
during the attack ate at him. Bree knew he didn’t want that to happen again and
that he hated every time he left town for the state university. That was why he
took so many courses online or at community college.

Bree knocked lightly before peeking in his room. “Hey,
little bro, you okay?”

After shrugging on his jacket, Jordan shoved his hands in
his pockets. “I guess. Just wound up. I thought I’d meet some of my friends
down at the bowling alley, relax a little.”

“Get away from the family for a while.” Bree held up a hand
when he looked like he was about to argue. “Don’t deny it. Hell, we love each
other but we all need our space sometimes.”

Jordan looked at the floor for a moment. “Yeah.”

“Don’t let it get to you.” Bree scooped his keys off his
dresser and handed them to him. “Whatever you decide to do with your life is
your choice. In the end, we’ll all support you. Just realize that as your
family, we get the right to stick our big noses in your business just like you
have the right to tell us to fuck off.”

He tossed the keys in the air and grinned at that. “I can
picture Aaron’s reaction if I told him to fuck off. I wouldn’t have to worry
about decision making since I’d be dead or in a coma.”

Bree plopped down on the side of his bed and laughed. She
could just picture her eldest brother’s expression. “I wouldn’t go that far but
it sure wouldn’t be a pretty sight. Crystal wouldn’t be seen in public with you
until all the bruises healed.”

“She won’t be seen in public with me now,” Jordan muttered
as he slipped his wallet into his back pocket, still clutching the keys in his
other hand.

So that’s where some of this is coming from.
“She
break up with you again?”
Shallow bitch.

He shrugged. “You know how it is.”

“Yeah, on again off again since your sophomore year. Maybe
you going back to the university wouldn’t be a bad thing? At least then she’d
be forced to think about what life would be like without you around.”
And
maybe you’d find someone better and get her manicured claws out of you.

He tried to look like it didn’t bother him but Bree could
feel his heartache and it brought tears to her eyes. “To be honest, Bree, I
don’t want to think about it right now.”

Bree blocked out the hurt and sadness coming from her
brother as he left the room. Damn, why couldn’t any of them live a normal life?
Why did this have to happen to their family?

Bree’d never thought of her life as being unusual, other
than her having a bit of the sight. And when she’d left home to pursue a degree
in psychology, she’d thought she’d been able to read people well. She hadn’t
considered her gift to be valuable for much else.

Not until that night, not until Jordan called her,
hysterical.

It had taken her two hours to drive home. By the time she
got there, the entire house had been cordoned off as a crime scene. Matt hadn’t
been allowed in since the sheriff was worried about how he’d handle it. When
Bree pulled up, Matt met her in the front yard. They stood together as the
bodies were brought out in long, black body bags. They’d helped Jordan into her
car after the sheriff had finished questioning him. They’d met up with Aaron, Wes
and Ty at the one motel in town. After hearing what had happened the owner had
given them six rooms next to each other for as long as they needed, no charge.

They only used one room the first night. No one wanted to be
alone.

The next day Matt sneaked Bree in to see the killers. She
still couldn’t believe that their neighbors, a couple in their sixties who’d
lived next door since before she’d been born, had murdered her parents. But
when she saw them, reached out for their emotions, she’d known the truth.

Whoever they had been before was gone. Something alien had
taken their place, inhuman and bloodthirsty.

Demons.

Bree had never been one to believe in possession, no matter
how long she’d lived in the Bible Belt. She’d heard stories about snake
churches in the hills and people falling to the floor, convulsing and speaking
in tongues. She’d always thought the people involved needed serious psychiatric
help.

Now she wasn’t so sure.

It took a while to convince her brothers. Actually, it took
the killers escaping and Matt finding them, watching the demons separate from
their human hosts. He nearly died fighting them off. Gunfire did little to stop
them. If Bree hadn’t brought Aaron with a machete, they would’ve lost Matt.

After it was discovered that the couple had no memories,
emotions or even personality left, they were deemed unfit to stand trial. The
authorities had them committed. The Collier family was left to deal with the
aftermath.

For seven years they’d hunted down monsters. For seven years
all their lives had been put on hold.

When would it end?

Chapter Four

Logan thanked his lucky stars for the lull in the almost
constant rain he’d driven through since crossing into Kentucky. The scenery was
beautiful, with its rolling green hills slowly turning into rolling green
mountains, each just beginning to change into fall colors. Some kind of vine
crawled up bare rock, trees and most of the telephone poles and even wrapped
around the wires. It was strange and beautiful at the same time. But driving a
motorcycle in the rain was never a pleasant experience, no matter how wonderful
the view. His leathers kept the pelting rain from stinging his skin but the
extra concentration he had to devote to driving in bad weather was exhausting.

A few hours after crossing the state line, the road
narrowed, snaking deep into the mountains that loomed around him to create a
nearly claustrophobic aura. Few cars passed him going in the opposite
direction. Small, almost hidden communities whirled by one after another, often
connected by river or railroad track. It took another half hour off the main
highway until he finally sighted the lights of Browningsville.

He drove through the center of town and felt like he’d
stepped back in time. Drugstores butted up to an ancient-looking stone
courthouse. Homes had actual white picket fences and shutters, though a few
could use a fresh coat of paint. For a moment Logan had a flash of old Norman
Rockwell paintings from the fifties of the American Dream. At the end of Main
Street sat the only motel listed in the entire area. He pulled up in the first
empty, non-handicapped spot and pulled off his helmet. His red hair fell
forward, almost over his eyes. He shook his head as he hooked his helmet around
one handlebar and headed inside.

The lobby was completely deserted, though he could hear the
sounds of a game show playing just out of sight. He tapped on the little brass
bell on the desk and waited for someone to acknowledge his existence.

“Coming, hold yer horses.” The voice was so thin, Logan was
amazed he could make out that much.

A tiny, gnarled little man shuffled into the room. Logan
struggled not to grin at the amount of time it took the man to cross over to
the front desk. He looked Logan up and down, eyes narrowed in obvious
suspicion. “You needing a room?”

Great, small town distrust. Glad I’m wearing a jacket.
Who knows what this guy’d think of me if he could see my tats. With all the
geometric designs and Celtic braidwork on my arms and back, he’d probably think
I just got out of prison or belong to some biker gang.
He put on his
friendliest hotel management smile. “Hi, my name is Logan Walker. I called last
week about a room.”

The man’s face relaxed a fraction but not much. “You here to
visit family or to do some hiking?”

Now’s obviously not the time to start asking my own nosy
questions. Deal with the local gossip’s questions first.
“I’m passing
through, on vacation, and thought I’d do some sightseeing along the trail. I’m
taking a motorcycle trip across country, exploring parts I haven’t seen
before.”

The man gave a soft humph but reached for his sign-in book.
Without another word, he handed Logan a packet with a key.

Not exactly impressed with the friendly service, Logan
struggled for something to say. He needed to be as nonthreatening as possible.
It wouldn’t do him any good if rumors about the stuck-up out-of-towner started
flying. “It’s been a long trip and I’m starving. Could you recommend someplace
to eat, close by?”

“TC’s cafe, block down Main’s, about the only place other
than the bowling alley close by to eat. Can’t miss it.” The man turned and went
back to watching his show in the other room.

I guess that’s the best I can hope for.
Logan scooped
up the key and went about getting everything off his bike and into his room.

As soon as he unpacked, he looked around the tiny, sterile
motel room and decided to walk over to the cafe. He was tired but too wound up
from the drive to sleep yet. The room was obviously not meant for anything more
than sleep. The weather was still cloudy but the rain had let up. It was cool
but not cold and the air smelled crisp and fresh. If the cafe was as close as
the motel guy said, the walk would be a good chance to stretch his legs after
the long ride.

About a block and a half away, he found a surprisingly busy
little restaurant. Being the only game in town, it had to be doing good
business. The sign by the door said to seat yourself so he found a booth in the
back corner by the window. A cute little blue-eyed blonde sitting at the
counter gave him the once-over and a flirty little grin. He grimaced and raised
the menu to block his face.
Great, guess I’m both dangerous-looking in my
leathers on top of being fresh meat. Nothing like the bad-boy look to draw
attention.

“Mind if I sit here?” a soft voice whispered in his ear as a
small hand grazed his shoulder.

He closed his eyes for a moment before meeting the blonde’s
hungry gaze. He was just trying to come up with some way of gently letting the
woman down without ruffling any feathers when another voice piped in, sending
chills down his arms.

“Really, Crystal. You just broke up with my brother again
and you’re already hitting on the first new man you run into. Real classy.”

Crystal tossed her lush, wavy hair and glared at the
interruption but scurried back to her seat.

“Sorry ‘bout that, especially if she was bothering you.”
Disgust coated this new woman’s familiar, no-nonsense voice. “If she wasn’t,
you can always talk to her later. Believe me, it won’t take much talking on
your part. Do you know what you want to eat or would you like a little more
time?”

Logan slowly dragged his eyes up this other woman, almost
afraid that he wouldn’t see what his heart expected. But one look at those warm
brown eyes and the soft, silky brown hair framing that familiar face dried his
mouth and sent every muscle in his body on high alert.