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was watching her; she didn’t need her psychic ability to read his mind. He watched her whenever he thought he could get away with it. She didn’t care; let him waste his time while she waited for Thomas’ return.
    After their long embrace, they headed into the house. Walking past the living room, she stopped and, telling Thomas she’d meet him in the kitchen, turned and walked purposefully toward Winters.
    With a positive and (she hoped) communicative look on her face, she came to the point immediately.
    “I’m bored. I have cabin fever. I want out of this house. It feels like a prison.” She noted that he appeared relaxed, but looks were deceiving. While she didn’t get waves of tension from him, she knew he was, and would always be, wary.
    “I assume you’ve thought this through and realize the many consequences that would engender. While you’re admittedly psychic enough to feel people’s emotions around you, there are still enemies to consider. Enemies far removed from you that you can’t read. If they can’t use you to their advantage, they’d just as soon eliminate you.”
    She had known this commonsense approach to her statement would have been his reaction. She gave him her million watt grin. “I’ve been working on something that just might take care of that.”
    She always had his full attention whenever they spoke; it was kind of flattering, in a way. But springing something on him that concerned a new “talent” of hers created a stillness in him born of years spent as a defense attorney and his current role in the FBI. Good at his job he said nothing, just waited expectantly.
    “I’ve been thinking a lot about when Damion Lazote tried to shoot me … kill me … at the church. And the bullet I deflected. It was the same automatic reaction when Sinclair threw the ricin poison in my face and I was able to blow it back into his. I should be able to tweak my limbic system so it always scans for threats like that.”
    His expression remained fixed, but she could feel his heart rate quickening. “That doesn’t sound possible, even for you,” he said. “The ancient lizard brain reacts subconsciously. That’s why a person reacts milliseconds before they know they’re doing it. Yours just happens to respond faster than others. But how do you propose to tap into it, let alone change anything?”
    There was no smugness in her answer. “Sometimes when I’m alone, I concentrate on my brain. Well, more like which segments are working and which aren’t.”
    There were many things about this woman that he flat out couldn’t understand. That she could delve into her own brain, to see what hemispheres were operating, was beyond his comprehension.
    “I’m just now trying to see into the workings of my brain.” She wasn’t taunting him with outrageous talents like she had before; she was just stating a fact, to his delight. Along with their new attitude of cooperation, she genuinely included him in things she was doing psychically. Some things. He knew she never shared all, even with Raphael.
    “And how is this supposed to work?” he asked.
    “Well, if I can tap into that hemisphere of the brain where the lizard brain hides in, I might be able to tweak it into responding to a psychic or long distant threat.” Her childlike smile was one of pure delight. “Then it will react as it does in a fight-or-flight situation. Make me do something to protect myself without it being a conscious thought ... in the beginning.”
    Does this woman have the slightest idea what her value would be to the U.S. agencies formed to protect the population? Both foreign and domestic ? he thought. Winters had to make her understand—but here’s where the ice got thin.
    He had tried several weeks after she returned from her Trail of Sorrow , as he called it. He thought after spending time with the families who mourned the death of their loved ones at the hands of Gregory Sinclair, she’d be amenable to the idea of