I’m sorry, Wyatt. I’m trying.

That voice spread through him like warm honey. So worth it, sugar. You’re doin’ fine. Just keep tonin’ it down. You’ll get there. Everythin’ takes practice.

Malichai cleared his throat. “Did you always have a lethal bite?”

Pepper glanced at Wyatt. He tightened his hand around hers to give her courage. He was grateful he’d connected the two of them somehow when he’d attempted to psychically heal her. He could feel fear and confusion beating at her, although he couldn’t see it on her face. She didn’t want to do anything to upset the balance in the room and she was feeling her way.

He found the fact that she knew nothing about family or friendship yet had taken on three children and was desperately feeling her way right now, trying to do everything right when she had no road map, absolutely valiant. His heart contracted and he pressed her hand to his chest, right over it.

Pepper took a breath and shook her head. “I don’t think so. At least, to my knowledge, I never killed anyone by biting them, not as a child. We were training in India and I was bitten by a snake, a cobra. I was fifteen at the time. I got very, very sick. We were out in the country. They brought in a helicopter, and that’s the last time I ever saw the other girls I trained with. I was taken back to France, but held in a different area, away from my unit.”

That had been much better. She spoke a little slower, almost drawling, but it helped to alter her natural tone enough to take the sensual edge off a little. He smiled at her and nodded to let her know her technique worked.

“Were you treated for the bite?” he asked gently.

Now they had everyone’s undivided attention. Both Malichai and Ezekiel propped their heads on their hands, elbows on the table, staring at her in some shock. Wyatt didn’t warn them that they were in danger of Nonny’s fork, although she was listening with rapt attention as well.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember very much. But I was operated on three times after that. All three times I was very ill. For weeks the first time.”

“What are you thinkin’, Wyatt?” Nonny asked. “Your first thought.”

“It’s preposterous,” Wyatt answered slowly. “Totally impossible. Do you know your country of origin? Is it possible Whitney found you in India?”

Pepper frowned at him. “Yes. But Braden told me I couldn’t possibly be a native even though I was supposedly in an orphanage there. He speculated that my parents were living there and either died in an accident or from some sickness.”

“Do you have any scars from your childhood? Unexplained scars?” Wyatt persisted.

His mind began to race with the impossible. If Whitney had found her in India, he wouldn’t have bothered with her unless she had psychic ability. Ezekiel could control reptiles – a very rare gift. Nonny did to a lesser extent, as did Wyatt. But it was rare to be like them. As far as he knew no other GhostWalker had that gift.

Pepper might have been abandoned, as female children often were, especially if she came from parents not of Indian descent and was an orphan. Most likely she’d been found in the areas where deforestation had taken place, displacing snakes. If she had the ability to control snakes, as a child, would she have tried to play with them? Would she have been bitten? If she had, he doubted if the snake would release much of its venom into her, not with her gift. Was it possible that over time she’d developed an immunity to snakes on her own?

Pepper nodded. “I had several scars, but they were removed when I was a teenager.”

It was all coming together in his mind, just like it did when he was on the path to finding answers in his own lab. “Can you control a snake with your mind?”

Ezekiel swung his head toward Wyatt and then back toward Pepper, waiting for an answer. Wyatt knew that Ezekiel had spent the night outside his grandmother’s bedroom, and that he’d whispered to Ginger telepathically each time he heard her wake.

It was no wonder Pepper had been put in charge of the three babies. Wyatt already knew the answer to his question. Pepper definitely could control snakes.

“Yes,” Pepper admitted, her voice so low it was almost impossible to catch.

“It’s all makin’ sense now,” Wyatt said. “You were the inspiration behind his great plan.”

“You keep saying ‘him.’ You mean Dr. Whitney. I never saw Dr. Whitney when I was young. Only Braden. Whitney came later, after the children were born.” Pepper frowned in concentration. “I see where you’re going with this, but even if I was bitten repeatedly as a child and built up enough of the venom in my system, wouldn’t I have to keep getting bit for the toxins to remain at high enough levels in my system to do any good? And could my liver handle that?”

“Some of the best snake handlers gave themselves venom daily and it worked to keep them alive,” Wyatt pointed out. “A few used diluted venom and others used pure venom.”

“But they would have had to have daily injections,” Pepper pointed out.

“What if your body, as a child, adapted to the venom?” Wyatt said. “We’re always adaptin’. If one or both of your parents handled snakes, specifically cobras or kraits, and were bitten repeatedly…” He trailed off, his mind moving fast.

“Wait a minute,” Malichai interrupted. “Are you saying she could have been born already immune to a cobra bite? That her parents passed that to her?”