Blind Warrior (The Weavers Circle #3) - Jocelynn Drake Page 0,78

up with directions to the closest pharmacy since he wasn’t originally from the area. The ride was smooth, and Grey felt confident that the man was a safe driver just from the fact that he’d heard him actually use the turn signal before pulling out of the driveway.

“I could even do a type of hypnosis. Convinced a lot of people they were chickens,” Grey murmured. “But I can’t anymore. Not since I lost my vision.”

“I’m sorry. Wiley said you saved his life.”

A ghost of a smile drifted across Grey’s lips at the memory. It had been a nasty fight. Gunfire, explosions, screams all around them as they fought the pestilents. And then there were all the animals under Ardette’s spell trying to kill them. His job had been to protect Wiley as he unwound the spell and freed the animals. It had been an honor to have Baer trust Grey with the safety of his soul mate. He might hate having lost his sight, but he didn’t regret his actions for a second. He was glad Wiley had survived. Baer needed him. The Circle needed him.

“Why do you ask?”

“You can’t read my thoughts now, can you? Mess with my mind?”

Grey made a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. “No, I can’t. We have to get to know each other the old-fashioned way. By talking.”

“Okay. That’s cool. Baer mentioned that you dug around in his mind and found these embarrassing childhood memories.”

“Did Baer also mention that I was still learning to use my powers, and he’d offered himself up as a guinea pig?”

Calder laughed lightly. “No, he did not.”

“I made it a rule not to dig around in people’s minds if I could help it. Sometimes it couldn’t be helped, or it was for the protection of the Circle, but I don’t go telling the secrets that I learn.”

The vehicle slowed to a smooth stop, either for a stop sign or a red light. The voice for the navigation app instructed them to take the next left. A gentle hand reached over and briefly squeezed Grey’s tense shoulder.

“It’s all good. It’s not like I’ve got this horrible past to hide.” When Calder touched him, Grey got a feeling of relief but also honesty. Calder seemed genuinely curious about his power and his new limitations. It felt like he just wanted to understand. Calder released Grey’s shoulder and Grey relaxed against his seat.

“No childhood trauma that will one day turn you evil?”

Calder laughed again, but it was soft and gentle. That was the interesting thing Grey had noticed about the man—he was surprisingly even-keeled at all times. He wasn’t loud or boisterous like the rest of them. Even Dane could shout and get wound up at times, but Calder was always calm and collected. When they’d been trapped in the kitchen during the attack, Grey couldn’t recall him getting more than a little snippy.

“Nah. Nothing interesting. I’m one of those types who likes books more than people. If I’m not learning something new or surfing, then I’m bored. And if I’m bored, then I’m usually looking for something new to learn.”

“Surfing?”

Calder laughed again. “Yeah, the coincidence. It’s ridiculous. I grew up in this little town halfway between Los Angeles and San Diego. Started surfing when I was about nine. I spent most of my free time in the water. And if I couldn’t get in the water, I had a book in my hands.” Calder paused and made a low humming noise.

“What?”

“I got restless a few years back. I traveled some, telling myself I was looking for new surfing spots. Took some time in Mexico and Brazil to surf. When I ended up in Savannah, I couldn’t figure it out. Some locals told me about Tybee Island and surfing out there.”

Grey shifted in his seat, adjusting the safety belt so that it didn’t cut into his neck. “Was that why you were out there that day we met?”

“I thought that was why I was there, but apparently it was to meet you and the other Weavers.” Grey thought he heard a smile in Calder’s voice.

Their conversation died off a little as they entered the large shopping plaza. Calder likely wanted to concentrate on safely navigating the usually busy area. Grey had his window down, and a cool breeze was ruffling his hair. He threaded his fingers through it, frowning at its length. He was well overdue for a haircut, but it would have to wait for now. They were limiting