What the Heart Desires Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Other Works by Kelli McCracken

  Acknowledgments

  Contact Information

  WHAT THE HEART DESIRES

  Kelli McCracken

  Copyright © 2014 Kelli McCracken

  All rights reserved.

  To my grandmother,

  The woman who ignited the fire within me

  PROLOGUE

  Six months prior…

  He watched from the shadows, listening to the chaos unfolding within the building across the road. The stained-glass windows glowed from the lights in the sanctuary. A moment later, a loud crashing noise echoed through the air.

  The neighbors would come investigate or call the cops, if not for the neighborhood block party a few streets down. Neither option would be good.

  He hated killing innocents.

  Humans knew nothing about his world, the world of the Psi. They knew nothing about the power his people contained. It would continue that way until they gained the upper hand in this ageless battle. The odds were weighing in their favor, and once his plans were in motion, things would change.

  Until then, the humans were safe.

  Movement ahead drew his attention to the building’s side door. A figure emerged, donned in a dark cloak, hood up, face covered. Once he descended the stairs, the commotion inside the building settled. Then another cloaked figure appeared. He joined the first as both moved east.

  Two steps later, they stopped.

  They peered in his direction, but only because he wanted them to. He was good at hiding in the shadows, had perfected the art over the last decade. It’s why he held his rank. That rank gave him the confidence to remain in his current position, regardless of whether they approached.

  It was his energy alerting them of his presence. Granted, Benders couldn’t sense energy, but they knew whom they served. This connection tied them to their lords. When the one they bowed to was close, they sensed it.

  Hesitating at first, they exchanged glances, whispered, and then proceeded his way. As soon as they stepped inside the shadows and noticed him, both fell to one knee. They bowed their heads, staring at the grass. “My lord, to what do we owe this honor?”

  The broader of the two spoke but kept his head down. Good. He knew respect. Most of this newer generation didn’t. Even after teaching them, some never learned, so they died instead.

  “Rise.” He spoke with a deep, firm voice. He knew which tone to hit, knew which tone would send chills crawling up their spines. Both stood, but their eyes remained lowered. He began circling them, studying each carefully.

  “State your names.”

  The broad man leered at his partner then turned back. “My name is Cane, but I am known as The Butcher. My partner’s name is Drake.”

  “Where is your commander?”

  “He isn’t here, my lord.” Cane spoke again. “He is tending to business in The Valley.”

  “I wasn’t aware of any other business that needed his attention.”

  The young Bender’s throat wobbled as he swallowed. He and his partner seemed reluctant to answer or meet his gaze, for that matter. Their silence infuriated him.

  “I asked a question. Where is my answer?” The anger in his voice split the air. Then Drake lifted his head and spoke.

  “At a party, my lord. He is at a party.”

  “Excuse me?” He stopped in front of the taller man. “Did you say he’s at a party?”

  Drake nodded.

  It wasn’t enough to pacify him. He leaned in closer until his face was less than an inch from the Bender’s. “I can’t hear your head shake, boy. Answer me. Did you say that your commander is at a party?”

  “Yes, my lord.” There was fear in the Bender’s voice. It made his words sound shaky and weak.

  He hated weakness.

  “Was your mission successful this evening?”

  Cane finally lifted his head and stared him in the eye. “It was, my lord.” The Bender brought forth a piece of paper and passed it over. Then he and his partner stood like statues.

  After scanning each word, he folded the paper twice and drew his hand inside his cloak. Drake glanced lowered, but Cane’s remained. “You’re a bold one, grunt. Your partner seems to be the weak link in this mission.”

  Malice blazed in Cane’s eyes. It coincided with the smirk on his face. “He is, my lord. He did nothing. It was I that killed the—”

  “Silence!” His voice echoed off the surrounding buildings. “I know who killed him. Do you think I’m blind? There is blood all over you.” He grabbed Cane’s cloak, near his chest, and pulled it higher. “You’re quite a messy one, I see.”

  “Forgive me, my lord. I lose control. There is so much energy behind my abilities, I black out. I’m sure the man was dead after the first strike, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

  “I’m sure.”

  He turned his back to both men, but not before noticing Drake still looking down. Nothing about his demeanor seemed timid, but he didn’t seem to mind his partner calling him weak.

  Turning from Drake, he observed the row of houses and buildings in the distance. His hands folded behind his back, and he grunted his disapproval. “I don’t like weak links. Weakness frustrates me, and the weak do not belong with The Fallen.”

  “Agreed, my lord.” Cane spoke again. “It would be an honor to address this matter for you.”

  He faced Cane, and then Drake, but the latter still faced the grass.

  “Interesting.” He stepped closer to Drake until they stood toe to toe. “Look me in the eye, Bender.” Drake obeyed. “This man is threatening your life and yet you stand here, unaffected by his words. Why is that?”

  “Because, my lord, while I may be the weaker link, my time with The Fallen has taught me bravery. I neither fear my opponent nor death.”

  “I’m not sure if it’s bravery or ignorance that’s fueling your thoughts. It’s clear he could kill you in a matter of seconds.”

  Drake didn’t crack a smile. He nodded once and cleared his throat. “Yes, my lord, he could kill me. But I am confident in my abilities.”

  Amused by the Bender’s words, he backed away and nodded at Cane.

  “I knew this day would come, Drake” Cane boasted. “I warned you that I would take your life in the blink of an eye if given the order. Prepare to die, friend. You of all people know why they call me The Butcher.”

  In less than a second, long slender Sais sprouted from Cane’s wrists. The Monouchi measured a good fifteen inches and were blood stained from the last victim—the man they left inside.

  As Cane lunged forward, Drake waved his hand in a half circle. It didn’t seem like much of a defensive move until Cane fell to the ground, unconscious.

  “What are you waiting for?” he growled. “Finish him.”

  Drake nodded and refocused on
Cane, who was lying at his feet, atop the grass. The same hand he used to render the man unconscious now formed a tight fist. Then Drake closed his eyes.

  It seemed as though he were sleeping, but it wasn’t long before Cane began convulsing. His body flopped around like a fish from the sea, one caught in a net and dumped onto land. Foam formed around his mouth the way it would on a diseased dog. Blood poured from his nose.

  Then everything stopped. Drake lowered his fist and opened his eyes. “He’s dead.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  He eyed Drake once more. The Bender stood straight. His demeanor proved impressive, but he would concentrate on that once he confirmed Cane’s death.

  With a slight bend of his waist, he touched his fingers to Cane’s neck. He waited a good twenty seconds, but no pulse thumped under his fingertips. After checking for other signs of life, the reality of the situation became clear. The so-called Butcher was dead.

  As he stood, he stared at Drake, but the Bender hadn’t moved. “Look at me, grunt.”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “What are your abilities?”

  “I am a hypnokinetic, my lord.”

  He made a circle around the Bender, scanning every inch of his six and half foot frame. Taller men never made him nervous, nor did this kinetic. He would strangle him before Drake knew what was happening. But he didn’t want to strangle him. If anything, the Bender had gained his interest.

  “If you’re a hypnokinetic, I assume you hypnotize people.”

  “Yes, my lord. I can also render them unconscious if I’m not ordered to hurt them.”

  Both glanced at Cane’s corpse, then Drake focused on the street.

  “How did you kill this man?”

  “I will explain, my lord. While he may be bigger and stronger than I am, his mind was his weak link. I gave him a brain hemorrhage.”

  Laughter rippled through the air, but Drake didn’t flinch at the throaty sound. Outstanding.

  “At ease, soldier. I’m not going to hurt you. In fact, I think you have earned yourself a promotion in one of my elite groups. Your gifts will be handy for the mission I have planned.”

  “I’m honored, my lord, but I don’t understand. You told my opponent that I am weak and you hate weakness. Why would you want me on your elite team?”

  “The answer is simple, my dear Mind Bender. You see, you can take a man who is weak in body and train him to be strong. Yet, someone with a weak mind will always be that. Weak.” He eyed the Bender at his feet and shook his head. “You know what I hate more than weakness? Arrogant morons, and this man,” he kicked Cane’s foot, “is beyond arrogant. He didn’t follow orders, either. The man inside needed to be searched and detained for questioning. I may not like The Oracles, but I don’t believe in killing innocents. Humans can’t hurt us. They are but insects crawling beneath our feet. Do you agree?”

  Drake nodded once and wet his lips to speak. “This, of course, excludes humans aiding Oracles.”

  “Ah, you’re not only brilliant, but wise as well. This is another reason why you must join my elite squadron of Benders—The Shadow Walkers.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” Drake bowed.

  “Please. There is no need for formalities now. My elites call me by my given name.”

  “As you wish, my lord, but forgive me. I’ve only known you as my lord. What is your given name?”

  He met Drake’s eyes and used the same cold tone that he’d greeted him with. “It’s Nathaniel…Nathaniel McBride. But you can call me Nate.”

  CHAPTER 1

  Heaven paced near the bay window inside her parents’ den. She ignored the twinge in her back, the way it made her muscles tighten like a rubber band stretched to its limit. No matter how much she wanted it to go away, the odds were against her. If it hadn’t eased within the last thirty minutes, she doubted it would.

  Right on cue, a pinching sensation made her gasp. She clutched the area above her hip and slowed her pace. Now was not the time for her body to complain about its recent abuse. She needed to keep busy because sitting didn’t ease her racing heart. Neither did the twelfth chime of the grandfather clock.

  As the last note hung in the air, it served as a painful reminder. Morning was gone, as was her husband. No amount of distractions would help. Her thoughts came back to the one thing she wanted to forget—Dylan’s whereabouts.

  Of all mornings to sleep late, why did it have to be this one? Had she been awake, she would have asked where he was going, or maybe he would have invited her along. It was hard to say now, and what ifs never changed any situation.

  Turning away from the panes of glass, she brought her phone to her chest and tapped the screen until Dylan’s number appeared. For the umpteenth time, she hit the call button and placed it to her ear. The line rang for several seconds, but like her previous calls, no one answered.

  Her lungs stretched and burned as she held her breath. No air moved in or out, but an array of images played through her mind. Each one included her husband’s lifeless body.

  Graphic didn’t describe them. They were mind shattering, especially the last one, the one of Dylan lying on the ground, throat slit.

  The strength in her arm faded. She dropped her hand back to her side and released her phone. It thumped against the floor, but she didn’t care if she’d broken it. Her muscles twitched as she stood there, trembling.

  It was all too much. The thoughts. The possibilities. The fear of…

  She cupped her hands around her face and fought the tug forming at the corners of her mouth. The short-lived battle didn’t end well. In fact, the moment she released the breath she’d been holding, she sobbed.

  A cushion cradled her bottom when she collapsed onto the bench. Each muffled cry caused her chest to heave, but she didn’t allow it to stop her from searching for Dylan through their connection.

  Yet the harder she concentrated on finding his energy, the more her head buzzed.

  The ache in her chest intruded on the thoughts. So did the sound of footsteps shuffling across the floor. When they stopped, the cushion beside her gave. Comforting arms wrapped around her chest while a set of hands warmed her knees.

  “Sis?” Hope’s voice rang from below. The uncertainty within it only made Heaven cry harder.

  “Sweetheart, don’t do this to yourself.” Delia’s voice replaced Hope’s as it vibrated against Heaven’s cheek. “He’s okay. He’ll come walking through the door at any second.”

  “Will he?”

  The shrill tone of her voice made her wince. Though she knew her sister and mother-in-law meant well, their attempts to comfort her failed. She saw their doubt. They didn’t believe anything they were saying. Even if they’d hid their uncertainty, it wavered in their energy.

  But neither would admit it.

  “Heaven, you know my son as well as I do. He’s a fighter. He would face-off with the devil himself to get back to you. And he will come back.”

  She agreed to a point. Dylan was a fighter. He also had intuition guiding him along the way. But even the best fighters had a chance of losing, and intuition didn’t catch everything.

  Breaking free of Delia’s embrace, she slid to the outer edge of the cushion. “I know you think you’re helping me, but the only way you will is by searching for your son. Everyone needs to be participating in the search.”

  Desperation made her voice crack, but neither Delia nor Hope noticed. They were too focused on the opening to the den. Heaven gripped the edge of the cushion in anticipation. Perhaps Dylan had snuck in while they were talking…

  The wishful thought vanished once Scott entered the room. He shot past the sofa to the spot where Hope was sitting and kneeled beside her. Whatever caused him to rush into the room evoked worry within her sister.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, but…” His eyes shifted from Hope’s to the wooden planks in the floor. Guilt weighed on him—guilt Heaven knew had everything to
do with her. “I did my best, but it isn’t working.”

  Hope’s lack of response filled Heaven with more questions. “What isn’t working? Are you guys keeping something from me?”

  No one answered. Not at first, but it was Hope who broke the awkward silence. She patted Heaven’s knee and stretched her lips into a forced smile. “Scott was using his abilities on you. We wanted to keep you calm until Dylan came back, but it isn’t working.”

  “Good. I don’t want it to work. I want to sense Dylan if he…” Her lips trembled faster when the thought returned. She met her mother-in-law’s gaze, unable to keep the tears from falling. “I can’t feel him, Delia. I should be able to sense him.”

  “I know, sweetheart, but your daughter is preventing you. I also believe she’s the reason Scott’s abilities aren’t helping.”

  Heaven wiped a few tears from her cheeks and concentrated on Delia. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re getting stronger, Heaven. So is your daughter. I think she’s blocking your emotions from everyone she deems necessary. She’ll do anything to protect you, even block you from sensing her father’s emotions.”

  “Why would she block us from sensing each other? Unless something has happened.”

  The thought had little time to form when the weather stripping brushed against the floor. Someone had entered the back door. Footsteps echoed through the house, growing louder by the second. The sound brought Scott back to his feet, as well as her sister.

  Heaven pushed off the cushion and stood beside them. They all faced the opening, waiting to see who had walked into the house. It had to be Dylan this time. At least, she prayed it was. She longed to see him, longed to feel the warmth of his arms when he wrapped her inside them. If Hope weren’t blocking her way, she would run into the hall and see who’d entered the house. Maybe she’d run right into him.

  Another voice mumbled like the one before it, though the tone was softer. A moment later, two figures stepped into the room. When they came into view, her heart sank. Neither belonged to her husband, only her parents. As good as it was to see them, the lack of Dylan’s presence tore at what little peace held her together. It wouldn’t be long before her tears returned.