Page 92 of Guardian

Winter shook her head. “I injured him.”

Riona snapped her gaze back to Winter. “You did what?”

“I injured Zoltan, their leader. When he tried to get into my head, I fought back. My psychic powers pushed him out. My mind isn’t like that of an ordinary human. I didn’t know that until I met Gabriel, a vampire who works for Scanguards…”

“We know him,” Barclay interjected. “Continue.”

“Gabriel tried to help me with my visions, so I could learn to guide them, but the process failed. However, during that attempt, we learned that my mind is like a fortress. It won’t allow any invasion. My mind will fight back and injure whomever is trying to invade it.” She looked at Logan.

He nodded. They had discussed earlier what she would have to tell the council to win them over. He seemed pleased now.

“I burned Gabriel’s face and hands. I injured a powerful vampire, and I injured Zoltan, the leader of the demons. I may not look like it, I may look physically weak, but I’m stronger than Zoltan. I’ll never give in to him or his demons.”

Murmurs went through the chamber.

“Barclay?” another councilmember asked.

“Go ahead, Cinead.”

“Miss Collins, that may be the case. But would you have withstood physical torture?” Cinead asked.

“It never came to that,” Winter said.

She pushed her chin up and looked at the man who’d spoken, hoping to dispel his doubts. He was about Barclay’s age, a man who in human years looked like he was in his late forties, early fifties, but considering Logan was already two hundred years old, this councilmember was probably at least double Logan’s age. However, it wasn’t his age that made her look at him closer. His face looked familiar. As if they’d met before.

But before she could place him, Cinead continued, “But it will come to that if you fall into their hands again. What then?”

“That’s an unfair question,” Logan interrupted.

Cinead shot a displeased look at Logan. “It’s a valid one. I want her to answer.”

Cinead stared right at her, looking dominant and regal. She’d seen that look before. She knew where. She was certain of it. The man on the painting. The man with his wife and infant son.

“The child,” Winter murmured, recalling her vision. “It was your son.”

“Answer Cinead’s question!” Riona interrupted.

Cinead put his hand on her forearm, stopping her, his eyes still pinned on Winter. “What child?” His voice was different now, colored with emotions that hadn’t been present earlier.

“The baby in the crib. The one the demon stole.”

Cinead shook his head. “Stole? No. My son… You’re just making this up. You heard something. Somebody told you about my son… About his death…” His voice faltered.

“He had a birthmark on his butt cheek.”

Cinead glared at Logan. “Did you put her up to this? I swear I’ll challenge you to a fight if you did!”

“I never mentioned your son to Winter, I swear. Damn it, I never even mentioned you to Winter,” Logan said.

Cinead’s eyes landed back on Winter. “Let’s get to the bottom of your tarot card mumbo-jumbo. What kind of birthmark?”

“It was odd, hard to describe.”

“Just as I thought, you’re lying. You had no vision about my son. You—”

“An axe. It looked like an axe.”

Cinead gasped. His expression changed. Pain darkened his features. “You saw the demons kill my son?”