Torn (Second Sight) Read Online Free

warm,” Isabelle said, her voice a bit high.
    “It’s okay to be nervous,” Sharon said, smiling. “But you’ll do fine. At least it’s not your first time. Right?”
    “Right,” Isabelle said, nodding. “Right.”
    Isabelle didn’t know where Mac had gone but she didn’t trust herself to turn around and look.
    “Our second goal,” Sharon said, “is to ascertain whether Angela is all right. Though we don’t have an audio analysis back from DC yet, I think we all recognized the Priest’s voice and it’s almost certainly not a crank call. We’re working on the assumption that he has her.”
    An image of Esme, lying on the floor, completely dehydrated and bleeding, flashed in front of Isabelle. Her knee ached as she remembered the reading she’d done of the poor girl in order to get a description of the Priest out to law enforcement agencies as quickly as possible.
    “Right,” Isabelle said, finally concentrating.
    “Here’s the phone,” Sharon said, picking up the small, sleek handset on the table and setting it back down. “And,” she looked in back of Isabelle. “Here’s a chair.”
    Isabelle looked behind her to see Mac bringing what looked like a dining chair from an adjacent room. She could also see that Ben was sitting with an older couple, grouped around a small brass table. Those had to be Angela’s parents. They were listening intently to Ben and, though they both looked upset, it wasn’t the kind of emotional outbursts she’d seen when Esme had vanished.
    Mac set the chair down and held it for her. As she sat, he scooted it in a little and then quickly moved to the opposite side of the table where an agent she didn’t recognize was sitting. The young man was wearing headphones and, as Mac donned his, Ben and Angela’s parents appeared and Ben got them set with headphones as well.  
    Isabelle felt a bead of sweat trickle down the small of her back. By the time the phone rang, she’d even begun to hyperventilate.  
    Sharon held out two fingers, then one, and then pointed to the ringing handset.

    • • • • •

    Mac could see that Isabelle was upset. He’d seen it the moment she’d arrived. But now, as she reached to the phone, her hand shook. Everything in him wanted to comfort her, tell her it was going to be all right, just take her in his arms and hold her tight.
    He’d almost done just that when he’d whispered in her ear. She’d been so close that he’d smelled the fresh, floral scent of her skin. He’d had to consciously force himself to back away from her.
    She wore a dress he’d never seen, a deep red that perfectly complimented her olive skin and lustrous, long, dark hair. Her petite frame curved in all the right places within its confines, her shapely legs showcased from mid-thigh down. And as she’d strode toward him, he’d watched the gentle sway of her hips and then stared at the hint of cleavage in the scooping neckline.  
    Isabelle picked up the handset and turned it on.
    “Hello?” she said, her voice clear in his headset.
    “ Isabelle ,” came the Priest’s voice, smooth and confident. “I have a message for you.”
    A shrill, piercing, and agonized wail filled their ears. Despite the phone call with Esme, no one had seen this coming.
    Dammit!
    “Oh my god,” he heard Isabelle gasp as everyone around the table jumped at once.  
    The shriek was air-shattering and seemed as though it might go on forever when suddenly it stopped.
    Mac glanced at Isabelle who gripped the edge of the table and had her eyes closed. Sharon touched her on the shoulder, making her start, but she immediately saw Sharon pointing at the script.
    “May I please speak to Angela?” Isabelle said, her voice trembling.
    They all waited, frozen in place, dreading another one of those screams. But the only thing that greeted them was silence and something that sounded like the rustle of wind on a microphone.
    “Hello?” Isabelle