Only this time, I took Pete with me. With his mouth locked on my neck, drinking me down, he had no choice as I dove below the surface of the river in my mind, taking his consciousness with me. A dangerous gambit, seeing as I didn’t fully understand this ability myself. But desperate times called for daring . . .
As soon as we were through the raging currents and on the floor of the river, I jammed my fist back, unlocking him from my neck, then spun and fully pushed him off me. “You fucking moron!” I yelled. “Can you not see that I have been trying to reach you all this time? They have fingers in our goddamn minds! It’s not like I could just walk up to you and tell you to bide your time. I am working on something!”
His jaw dropped open, my blood dripping from it. I glanced up at the scene through the river’s surface to see him still latched onto my neck, his eyes closed, but there was no movement in his throat. We were in a holding pattern in the real world. But we wouldn’t have long.
“Jesus, Phoenix! I thought—”
“I know what you thought, you dumbass. You fought so hard and what did they do to you? They locked you up tighter and tighter.”
His jaw flopped open again. “And you . . . have barely a chain on you.”
“Exactly. I did what they wanted, knowing our time would come. You can block them out, can’t you?”
“Yes, it’s why they can’t compel me.” He licked his lips and gave a little groan.
It had to be a Magelore trick. Blood drinkers, soul stealers, they were feared amongst abnormals for their myriad abilities and the power in their bite and gaze. Their ability to use mind control was well known. In the past, I’d wondered if the facility and the handlers were controlling us with Magelore magic, but I didn’t know any strong enough to cause this level of destruction. Or smart enough, for that matter.
“You are the one person I can be straight with. There is a young abnormal here, brand new, and he can walk this place of darkness like I can. Our minds are safe from the handlers here and nowhere else. Can you meet us tonight? Do you think you can get your ass back here by yourself now that you’ve seen it?”
Pete nodded and looked around, a soft look in his dark eyes. “Yeah. You really think you can break us out?”
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “My wife is going to kill me when I get home. I went out for a meeting and . . .”
“Tonight. We meet tonight,” I said and swam toward the surface of my mind, out of this place that was darkness and safety.
I cried out as I broke out of the river and opened my eyes to the real world. “George, help!”
A clatter of feet stomped down the stairs and Pete pushed me away. He slumped against the wall. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.”
George yelled something at Pete, and we shared a quick gaze before I turned and hurried away. I kept my hand against my neck. The bite would heal fast, but the blood would show. I stripped off my shirt as I climbed the dark stairway, Pete’s shouts echoing against the walls from below, chasing me upward.
I pressed my shirt against my neck, wiped it several times and checked the bite with my fingers. No more blood. I didn’t want to get Pete into any more trouble than what George would give him. He hadn’t meant to hurt me, and he wouldn’t do it again. I was sure of it.
He was going to be okay now. I just had a feeling.
My handler all but purred his approval.
*_*_*
“What are you picking up off her?”
The voice was cultured, smooth like amaretto over ice. Almost sweet until you felt the afterburn reminding you that it could take you to dark places.
Three under-handlers straightened their backs, all at the same time. “She was attacked by the Magelore, boss.”
“And?”
“She’s worried about getting him into trouble,” Ernest said. He’d not been in her mind during the attack, but he was not going to admit to that.
His boss rolled his shoulders as if easing a huge weight. “She has not broken from her desire to help people.”
“No, she hasn’t. Not once.”
“Strange for such a monster to have a tender side. I wonder if we can use it to drive her to do as we wish?” The wide-shouldered Gardreel put his hands on the younger man’s far narrower shoulders.
The younger man touched the nametag on his shirt. A human name. Ernest. A frown rippled what was otherwise an otherworldly beautiful face. His face was perfect, but that name was not and he hated it.
He cleared his throat. “You think perhaps she would help us find the rest now?”
“Not exactly,” his boss said.
Ernest closed his eyes and flexed his fingers, feeling his way through the abnormal woman’s mind. She was very strong, but the work they’d done had buried her powers deeply, lacing them up tightly. He doubted she’d ever be able to touch them again. Which was good, but it didn’t fully solve the problem they were dealing with.
“She’s back in her room,” he said, and opened his eyes to see his boss staring down at him. “What would you like me to do?”
“She’s done nothing wrong, but I have a feeling,” his boss said. “She’s . . . cagey. I don’t believe she is fully broken.”
Another of the techs—as the doctors called them—cleared her throat. “I could have Esther watch her.” Her nametag said Susan. She hated her name too. But then, they all
