Read The First Prophet for Free Online Page B

future, it would have to be with the understanding that
     what a psychic is actually seeing is only a possible future. Moment by moment, we
     make decisions and choices that change our path through infinite possibilities. And
     once a psychic ‘sees’ an event, that psychic becomes in some way involved in the event
     and so affects the outcome—which causes the ‘future’ event that he or she saw to change
     in unexpected and unpredicted ways.”
    She was frowning slightly, her gaze fixed on his face with what seemed an unconscious
     intensity. “Or—to actually happen. How do I know that if I hadn’t warned David, if
     I hadn’t been so insistent that he avoid railroad crossings, he might not have been
     killed since he wouldn’t have gone to California to get away from me? How do I know
     that my—my prediction didn’t cause that nurse to go into premature labor out of stress
     and worry? How do I know that any of it would have happened if I hadn’t…interfered?”
    Coolly, Tucker said, “You don’t. If, as you believe, our fates are set, our destinies
     planned for us at birth, then every step you’ve taken, every action you thought was
     yours by choice was all just part of the pattern you had to follow.”
    “I…don’t much like the sound of that.”
    “Then consider another possibility,” he advised. “Maybe you aren’t going to die next
     month after all. Maybe you can master your own fate. If you want to, that is.”
    Since they were both finished eating, he got up and began clearing up in the kitchen.
     It wasn’t until then that he realized the big black cat had remained on the stool
     beside his during the meal and conversation without once calling attention to himself.
     It struck Tucker as odd and curiously uncatlike, though he couldn’t have said why;
     he didn’t know a great deal about cats.
    Even as that thought occurred to him, Pendragon quite suddenly lifted a hind leg high
     in the air and began washing himself in a definitely catlike manner, and Tucker almost
     laughed aloud. His imagination was working overtime, as usual. Not that it was surprising;
     whether Sarah Gallagher was a genuine psychic or not, she was obviously in trouble,
     threatened by person or persons unknown, and his awareness of that had heightened
     all of Tucker’s senses. Which explained why he got that creepy-crawly sensation near
     his spine each time he’d caught a glimpse of the watcher in the black leather jacket.
    And why he was very conscious of Sarah sitting at the breakfast bar in silence, her
     gaze occasionally following him but more often turned inward.
    He wished his awareness weren’t quite so heightened where she was concerned. He was
     too aware of her physically, too conscious of her quiet breathing, her faint movements—even
     the oddly compelling scent that washer perfume overlaid by the acrid odor of smoke that clung to her hair.
    Keep your mind on the subject at hand, Mackenzie.
    “I wouldn’t know where to start,” she said finally as Tucker turned on the dishwasher
     and poured fresh coffee for them both.
    Tucker felt a surge of triumph, but it was short-lived. He didn’t know where to start
     either. But he was unwilling to allow her to slip back into her earlier numb resignation.
     “We can find a place to start.”
    “We?” She looked at him steadily.
    “I never could resist a mystery.” He kept his tone light. “Or a challenge. And, as
     you said—I want to believe. Maybe the mistake I made in the past was in not getting
     to know the…psychics…I met. Maybe it’s not so much a question of faith as it is a
     question of trust. I have to trust you before I can believe in you, and trust demands
     knowledge.”
    “Quid pro quo? You’ll help me try to change my fate in exchange for the opportunity
     to convince yourself I’m a genuine psychic?”
    “It sounds workable to me.”
    “Tucker, that man watching outside is dangerous. I don’t know if he burned down