Perfect Betrayal

by Jade Kerrion

  In her mid-thirties, Andrea Hunter was the oldest among them. She wore her dark hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. Compared to Erin, Andrea appeared plain, but her eyes were shards of blue ice, glittering with intelligence and power. Next to her, John Pendleton looked like a college kid, because he was a college kid. He tossed Danyael a friendly grin and turned to spit a wad of gum into the trashcan.

  "What are you doing here?" Danyael asked. His quiet tone concealed startled disbelief.

  "The oracle said you might need friends." Andrea nudged her chin at Erin. Her gaze traveled across the breadth of the parking lot to lock on three people standing next to a black SUV. "As much as it pains me to admit it, it appears that she was right."

  * * *

  Zara leaned against the SUV, her pose indolent, but her eyes were alert as she scanned the parking lot. "I hear you, Miriya, but we didn't travel through the night in pursuit of Danyael, only to turn back now because you've changed your mind. So tell me, who's the welcoming committee?"

  Miriya spun around. Her jaw dropped. Fear flared into her eyes. "The council trained."

  "That's the council trained? And you walked right past them?"

  Miriya shook her head frantically. "I didn't sense them."

  "That's why God gave us eyes, damn it! You're a telepath. How could you not sense them?"

  "They all have crazy strong shields like Danyael, and Andrea's probably reinforcing them. They're psychic ghosts. They're effectively invisible on the psychic plane. Shit."

  "So we're in trouble?"

  "You have no idea."

  Zara frowned as an overly pretty redhead slipped an arm around Danyael's waist and guided him in the direction of a limousine. "Can Andrea break the hook you have in Danyael's head?"

  Miriya hesitated, before nodding. "Yeah, if she wanted to, she could."

  "Then we'd lose our only way of tracking him."

  "That's not acceptable," Galahad said. He pushed away from his casual slouch against the SUV and closed the distance. "Danyael!"

  Danyael paused. He glanced over his shoulder but did not turn around.

  "You've killed twelve people. You need to surrender before anyone else gets hurt."

  "Like you, little clone?" Andrea answered before Danyael did. Her cool tone exuded scorn. "Danyael mourns the people he's killed. You haven't spared a second thought for any of them. It's natural to crave freedom, but it's a shameful thing indeed to trade someone else's for yours."

  Galahad pulled out his handgun and fired two quick shots, but the bullets ricocheted off an invisible barrier.

  Danyael stepped forward. Panic, subtle yet pervasive, brushed against Zara's shielded mind. Around them, humans fled, screaming in terror. He was not targeting her, she realized. He was clearing the battlefield, protecting the innocent.

  Galahad ran toward Andrea. He leapt high, somersaulted, and brought his weapon to bear, but telekinetic force swept him out of the air and sent him smashing into the SUV. Shatterproof glass cobwebbed from the impact.

  "What third-rate telekinetic did you kill with that little trick?" John asked. Indifferently, the alpha telekinetic clenched his fist. The hood of the SUV crumpled, metal screeching as it folded like tissue paper.

  "Enough," Danyael said softly.

  Andrea turned to look at the empath, and a smile slowly curved her lips. "Don't hurt the girl, John."

  Zara scowled. What was the point of asking Danyael to take the love away if she was going to be reminded of it all the time?

  "We're done here," Andrea decided. "Tell Alex we'll keep Danyael out of trouble, enforcer."

  "She knows my name," Miriya grated under her breath. "I think she avoids using names just to piss people off."

  "It's working." Zara could not recall the last time someone had called her "girl." Grinding her teeth, she watched the limousine pull away before turning to help Galahad off their ruined SUV. "Are you all right?"

  He rotated his right shoulder and winced. "Just a sprain." He glared at the departing vehicle. "So, that's the council trained?"

  "We need to tell Alex." Miriya reached for her cell phone. "He's not going to like this."

  Zara said nothing. She traced the progress of the limousine as it disappeared down the road. Danyael was among his kind, people who understood him and who would protect him. What did that say about Galahad? And about her?

  It was infinitely easier, Zara realized, to leave some questions unanswered. "Let's get a new car. We'll head back to my place in Georgetown before we track them down. If we're going up against the council trained, I want better toys."

  * * *

  "Rest." Erin set her hand gently against Danyael's right thigh. "You look like you could use several hours of sleep."

  "There isn't enough time." Danyael dragged his misshapen left hand through his hair. "Galahad was right. The council and the Mutant Assault Group are both hunting me. Helping me could endanger you." He flinched as pressure pushed against his psychic shields.

  "Relax. It's faster this way, and I can be sure it's the truth," Andrea said.

  He hesitated briefly before relaxing his psychic shields and allowing her to enter.

  His prior encounter with Miriya's mind had done little to prepare him for his first contact with Andrea's. Andrea was council trained and the most talented alpha telepath alive. The difference was staggering---it was like comparing a ten-foot-wide crevice to the vastness of the Grand Canyon.

  He saw the play of emotions across Erin's expressive face as Andrea conveyed images from his mind directly to Erin and John. "Oh, Danyael," Erin murmured softly, reaching for his hand. Her fingers entwined with his. What had she seen that brought tears to her green eyes? Was it something he still remembered or had forgotten?

  He felt the pressure---the commanding presence of Andrea's mind---withdraw.

  Andrea relaxed in her seat across from him and folded her legs primly. "Do you want your memories back?" she asked.

  "I thought they were gone for good."

  "They're highly fragmented, but they can be repaired. The process will be neither easy nor quick, but it's certainly possible."

  Did he want them back? He stared at his hands. What forbidden knowledge lay locked in those shattered memories? "Will it change anything?" he asked.

  "Unlikely," Andrea said bluntly.

  "Then, no. I was told, explicitly, that the memories would be taken away if I tried to restore them."

  "You're not a coward, Danyael. Why are you running away from your memories?"

  Danyael shook his head. "Because there's a fine line to walk between being a coward and a damned fool. There are other battles to fight, and not a whole lot of time."

  "I may be able to help Lucien too," Andrea confirmed, "but not without a detailed scan of his mind to assess the damage. I'll also need access to you, to repair the damage."

  "Would you be able to manage without me?"

  "Unlikely. You know Lucien better than anyone else. Your memories of him are reflections of the patterns in his mind. I'll need those memories to remap his mental pathways."

  "All right." Danyael nodded. "I'll talk to his parents, convince them to let us help."

  "Be unsparing in the use of your empathic powers," Andrea said. "This isn't the time to let your conscience get in the way of what you want."

  John spoke up. "Can we talk about the part where you said helping you could endanger us?"

  "I killed people, including enforcers---"

  He frowned. "Your memories confirm that you did so in self-defense. Why didn't the enforcers say hi instead of opening with a psi-blast to break your psychic shields?"

  "I don't know. It's really not like them," Danyael said. "They've always been fair to me. Supportive." Until recently.

  "We wouldn't know. You're closer to the council than any of us. The rest of us broke away from those sanctimonious pricks years ago."

  "Regardless, I killed without sanction. I don't even know what the laws are anymore."
Danyael dropped his hand helplessly against his thigh. "Automatic classification as a class two? Class three?"

  John scowled. "The laws are stupid and unfair. Humans, clones, and in vitros get a fair shake under the judicial system, but mutants can be treated like criminals without due process."

  "Abetting a class-three mutant could get all of you into trouble."

  "There's nothing the four of us couldn't handle together," John said.

  "Maybe, but I've lost a great deal of ground in the past two weeks. I don't want to drag you down with me."

  Erin interjected, "Danyael's right. We don't all have to go down with the boat in a show of solidarity, but we have resources. We can keep you safe, hidden."

  Danyael shook his head. "I can't hide forever. I can find a way to live under the constraints of a class-three threat record. Lucien's the only one who matters."

  Andrea shook her head. "You're going through a lot of trouble for Lucien. Who are you doing this for, Danyael? Are you aiding Lucien for his own sake, or for yours?"

  Danyael squeezed his eyes shut to hide the pain. "For mine," he said softly.

  Andrea did not let up. "If you want to be honest with yourself, you'll have to answer the question his parents have always asked. Is Lucien better off without you?"

  Danyael knew the answer to that question.

  Andrea shook her head. "It's time for you to find another emotional anchor, Danyael. Humans are innately undependable."

  "We're all human," Danyael replied automatically.

  "Exactly." Andrea's teeth flashed in an unexpected grin.

  "You're asking me to walk away from Lucien." His heart clenched at the thought.

  Andrea's smile vanished. "Actually, I'm asking you if you might be better off without Lucien. Perhaps this friendship has run its course."

  Had it? Danyael's jaw tensed. "I...need to think."

  "Of course," Andrea conceded.

  Erin spoke up. "Think quickly, Danyael. Our paths---all our paths---are merging, but the future's unclear. All I know is that the choice you make today will affect us all."

  Damn it. "What choice? Between what?"

  Erin shrugged.

  Andrea laughed softly. "That's what I hate about pre-cogs. Their answers only raise more questions."

  "And if I choose wrongly, are we all going to die?"

  Erin hesitated.

  That was an answer, right there. Danyael bit back a curse. Great, just what he needed. Responsibility for three other lives.

  "Here." Erin opened the cooling unit in the limousine, removed a bottle of water, and handed it to Danyael. "Take a drink, and rest while you can."

  "Where are we going?"

  "To Franklin, West Virginia."

  Danyael raised his startled gaze to Erin. "Why?"

  "Why not?"

  He could think of a single perfect reason why not. There was absolutely no need to revisit his past.

  Erin said, "It is your effective birthplace. It's where you were found all those years ago, where your known history begins. You were a toddler with scarcely any memories, but something died in you that day when a woman threw you over the bridge and into the icy water."

  "That's irrelevant."

  "The past is never irrelevant, and most especially not your past. Franklin was the turning point in your life then, and it will be the turning point once again."

  Danyael looked over at Andrea and John. They shrugged, wearing twin expressions of annoyance. They weren't any more informed on Erin's vision.

  "Franklin will be the place of your rebirth or of another death," Erin said with serene simplicity, undeterred by their frustration and doubt. "That, Danyael, is your choice."

  * * *

  Danyael rested his head against soft leather, only half-listening to the argument simmering around him. His left leg throbbed. Twenty-four hours had passed since he had changed the bandages; he was overdue for another change. He sipped slowly from the water bottle. The liquid kept the grinding hunger at bay, but he would have to eat soon, before fatigue caught up with him.

  Perhaps it was too late and the fatigue had already caught up with him. God knew he could barely summon enough energy to join in the conversation, even though it centered on him.

  John said irritably, "You're always trying to change things. Why can't you just let it be?"

  "Let it be?" Andrea asked. "Did you hear what she said? Our lives depend on Danyael's decision."

  "You've never believed in fate anyway. Why start now?"

  "Because it has never pretended to involve my life until now. The answer to me is simple. We cannot allow the government to take Danyael away. Once he enters the penal system---even if it's the mutant containment facility---there's no telling what it will do to him. The fault lines in his psyche could collapse---"

  Danyael shook his head. Could you be kinder with your choice of words?

  Andrea turned on him. "Can you live without your psychic shields, Danyael? You won't be allowed to maintain them in prison. All those fault lines are still there. Put too much pressure on them, and they may very well collapse, to the ruin of all."

  "You're overly dramatic, Andrea," John said. "At this time, no one knows what decision Danyael will be expected to make or how it will cascade to impact us. And there are opportunities to divert the path the future will take, isn't that right, Erin?"

  Erin nodded. "John's right. The visions I see are unclear, because the path isn't set. There are many ways to change them. I'm certain of that much."

  "But nothing changes the fact that incarceration is a truly terrible predicament for an alpha empath with a damaged past. Everything you want, Danyael---a normal life, a chance to save Lucien---all of that will be beyond your reach if the government takes you. You'd accomplish nothing with your life. Is that what you want?"

  John sighed. "You're pressuring him, Andrea."

  "Go ahead and dispute the facts if you can," she challenged.

  Danyael inhaled deeply and released his breath in a soft sigh. If he allowed himself to be arrested, life as he knew it would be over. If he resisted arrest, what would life hold for him?

  "We have resources to shelter you, Danyael," Andrea said in response to the question he did not voice. "And you have the power to protect yourself."

  "Not without hurting others," he spoke aloud.

  "If they left you alone, no one would get hurt. If they're foolish enough to try, then the price is theirs to pay. You can't save people from their own stupidity."

  How could that be the answer? His entire life had been a mission to transform his empathic powers from a curse to a blessing. He had succeeded. Now, Andrea was telling him that abandoning his path was the only way to save himself.

  Had the twenty-eight years of his life been for nothing?

  Danyael stared down at his hands, one perfect, the other misshapen. His hands reflected the duality of his empathic powers; the ability to heal and to kill, a blessing and a curse. What were his choices? Invalidate the life he had made for himself or invalidate the life he had ahead of him? Either way he looked, he would lose everything he was or lose everything he could be.

  He shook his head and refused to accept it. How could those two possibly be his only choices?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Franklin was prettier than he had imagined. In spring, the forested mountains ridges and lush river valleys, fed by the headwaters of the south branch of the Potomac River, probably teemed with color. In winter, the landscape was bleak---bare trees reached imploringly to the sky---but the fast-flowing river, swollen by recent rain, offered the promise of life. Someday, just not that day.

  A time for every season under the sun.

  "Was it here?" Erin asked.

  Danyael glanced at the sign next to the bridge. Mill Run River. "Yes," he said. He stuck his hands into the pocket of his denim jeans. His shoulders hunched, braced against the chill air.

  "You've never been back here, have you?" she asked. Behind them, A
ndrea and John followed, arms linked, their cold noses nuzzling affectionately.

  "Never had a reason to." He followed her to the edge of the bridge, rested his elbows on the railing, and looked into the water. He had been abandoned on a day in winter, probably like that one. Had the water been high and fast too? How could anyone have expected a toddler to survive?

  No, not abandoned, he realized. One abandons a child outside a church, a store---places where the child is likely to be found. Throwing a child into a river in winter---that was murder. Someone had tried to murder him, a woman, his mother.

  And Lucien tried to kill me.

  "Danyael?" Erin slipped her arms around him. Her fingers covered his.

  He inhaled deeply. Willpower kept his voice steady. "Life comes full circle," he whispered quietly.

  "What do you mean?" Erin asked.

  "Sixteen years ago, I had to make a choice similar to this one. When Lucien offered me a second chance, I turned my back on my past and chose to live for the future."

  "Yes. It takes strength to walk away from the only life you've known. But you've always had that strength."

  Did he? Lucien's friendship meant everything to him, but family mattered so much more. He had destroyed his family; he could not destroy Lucien's family too. If Lucien's parents decided not to break the blocks in Lucien's mind, he had to accept that it was the right decision for their family.

  Let go...for Lucien's sake, for my sake, I have to let go.

  The raw agony would have bludgeoned him to his knees if Erin had not held on to him. His psychic shields quivered beneath the onslaught. "It'll pass," he said softly, his voice unsteady. The life Lucien had given him was over, but he would find another way. "I'll be all right."

  "I know." Erin smiled. "You've always been all right. And we're here to help. You don't have to do this alone."

  Danyael inhaled deeply. "I know. Thank you." He quashed the persistent flicker of doubt that he was making the wrong choice. Andrea was right; he had the power to protect himself. And if it means my powers are a curse, then the world is just going to have to deal with it.