He grinned. “Well, I’ve got a couple of large model starships. The CSS Saratoga’s about six feet long. It’s meditative to work with such delicate pieces. Sometimes I fiddle around with a little hydroponic garden. It’s not much, but I’ve managed not to kill any plants yet.”
She laughed. “I’ve been playing Forests of Wrath with Evan lately. I think I’m getting the hang of Asara. He’s been suggesting you join us.”
Sam nodded, smiling. “That would be great.”
Kirsten flexed and relaxed her toes a few times. “Sam?”
“Hmm?” He tilted his head.
“If I, uhh…” She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “Theoretically speaking, if I said maybe I didn’t really want to be alone right now, would you umm, maybe wanna stop by for a little while? I mean, I know we’ve both gotta get up at six.”
“It’s only quarter to nine.” He leaned closer to the holo-cam, making his head enlarge. “I don’t mind. Even for an hour or two. I’d love to be able to spend time with you.”
She crossed her feet, toes curled. “Uhh. Okay.” Geez, what am I thirteen?
“See you soon.” He winked and hung up.
Kirsten let go of the NetMini, which slid over her hip into the gap between her thighs. I am not inviting him over for sex. She closed her eyes. I need not to feel alone. She leaned her head back, picturing Evan. He was way too young to burden with her insecurities. As much as he tried to offer her comfort, hugging him always felt like the protection went from mother to child. Maybe when he towered over her in about six or seven years… maybe not.
“Mommy!” screamed Evan. “Mom!”
Raw terror in his voice launched her upright. The NetMini bounced off the top of her right foot on its way to the rug. She sprinted down the hall to his bedroom door, arriving as he wailed “Mommy” again, distorted by crying. The boy cowered in the corner of the room, shaking and bawling. Tears glimmered from the glow of astral seeing in his eyes.
A tall man with a shaved head and an orange hospital tunic loomed over the foot of the bed. Paranormal energy radiated from him, flooding the area with a sense of anger and malice. The clingy smock bore the word ‘corrections’ along the back with an inmate number, P044CD83, below it in block letters.
“You worthless little shit.” The man growled.
Wailing, Evan raised his arms to guard his face. Snot bubbled out of his nose.
Kirsten called the lash; the blinding-bright tendril unfurled and coiled around her feet. “Get away from my son.”
The man came about in a slow turn and glared at her. Dark brown stubble covered his scalp as well as his cheeks, where a glittering snot train ran from nostril to chin. It took a second for her to recognize him without a disaster of a moustache and beard, but the way he glared at her brought the memory back.
Mick.
“Bitch. You’re the one who fucking killed me.” He took a step toward her, pointing. “Left me in that goddamn bed, unable to fuckin’ move or think straight. You got any idea what a septic infection feels like? I’m gonna love sharing it with you for the next, oh, sixty years.”
Kirsten glared at him. “Don’t even go there. You tried to kill me. You’ve got four seconds to cross over, or I’m going to kill you again.” Her hands shook with rage. The bruises… he’s been beating Evan in his dreams. “I will not allow you to hurt him again.”
Mick laughed. “I’m already dead, you blonde whore. I ain’t goin nowhere till I drive the both of you fuckin’ batshit nuts. I’m gonna watch them lock you up in a nice little padded―”
She let off an incoherent scream of rage and lunged forward, bringing the astral lash around in a wide overhead swing. Never had Kirsten felt such anger before; the look Evan gave her before he showed his bruises, the fear she’d felt at possibly being blamed for them and losing him, the steady whimpering from the corner right at that moment… all of it set loose a surge of emotion that flared the energy stream more white than blue.
Mick raised his hands and tried to jump backwards, but her downstroke ripped him in half from shoulder to groin while severing both arms he’d held in the way. A sense of striking a weak gelatinous mass stalled her hand for an instant before she growled and jerked it out.
The ghost flickered between solid and transparent, crying out with a keening, inhuman wail that lasted all of a second before his form dissipated with a muted whump. A cloud of luminous fog hung in midair for a few seconds before blasting outward with a ripple of paranormal energy, leaving behind a lingering odor of beer and belch. Lights in the hall outside flickered, as did the digital window showing a fantasy landscape.
Evan screamed.
Kirsten raised her arm to strike again despite feeling the obliteration of a soul and swung three more times at the fading cloud before releasing her power. The energy tendril coiled low to the floor around her feet, lofting distorted shadows of furniture on the walls. She glared at the spot of carpet where the apparition had been, arms shaking, breathing hard, her entire body trembling from rage. A few minutes later, her anger faded, and she relaxed her power.
The room darkened with the absence of the whip.
Evan bolted from the corner and plowed into her, not quite standing, sobbing against her stomach. She wrapped her arms around him, letting him cry. I barely felt him… He couldn’t have been dead long. Kirsten pulled Evan to the bed and up into her lap.
“I’m sorry,” whispered Evan between snivels.
“There’s nothing at all for you to be sorry about, Ev.” She squeezed him. “Nothing.”
He sniffled. “For acting like a baby.”
She palmed his head and pulled him against her shoulder, rocking him. “If my mother’s ghost came here right now, I’d probably wet my pants.”
“Nuh-uh.” He looked up at her. “You’re not scared of ghosts.”
“It’s not the ghost I’d be afraid of. Seeing her again would bring back all the memories. It would make me feel like a little, powerless child all over again.”
Evan wiped at his face and leaned against her. “You’re just sayin’ that to make me feel better. If your bad mom walked in here you’d be like”―he snapped his arm as if using a whip while making a whoo-pssh sound effect―“Back, foul minion!”
Kirsten grinned. “Okay, maybe I would get angry instead of scared… but I’m grown up now. You’re nine.”
“It felt funny when you hit him. What was that?” He tucked his knees up to his chin and put his feet on her leg.
“I call it obliteration. When a person dies, their ghost comes out. That talent I have… The longer a ghost is around as a ghost, the tougher they get. When I hit them with the lash, it hurts them like… I guess like lasers hurt people. If I hit them too much, it destroys the ghost.”
“Like abyss? He’s dead again?”
“No… Ev. He’s way beyond that. There’s nothing at all left of him.” She exhaled, guilt settling on her shoulders. Who was she to make that judgement call? Final obliteration for a soul… had that left a stain on hers?
“He oblirated instantly. You only hit him once.” Evan sniffed and wiped his nose.
Kirsten stroked his hair. “He threatened my son. I was angry. I guess you could say I cast Meteor Rain at a giant rat.”
Evan hugged her tight. “They showed us this vid… ‘motion makes psi stuff work better. When Cadet Peña used empathy on me, it made me stronger. You didn’t need a empath.”
“Nope.” She grinned.
His lip quivered; tears gathered in the corner of his eyes. “That means you really love me.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not gonna make me go away if I do somethin’ bad on accident?”
She choked up, shaking her head. “No. Never.”
He smiled. “You pasted Mick in one hit.”
The doorbell rang.
Oh, Sam…
Evan gave her a quizzical look.
“I asked Sam to come over.”
He ground
his left hand into his cheek, wiping at his eyes. “‘Kay.”
She carried him to the door. Sam’s huge smile dimmed to a concerned look at the sight of them.
“Is he okay?” He fidgeted. “What happened?”
He might be too embarrassed to let you see him like this. Kirsten cringed. “It’s a long story.”
“Hi, Sam.” Evan still hadn’t stopped trembling, but he waved.
“It’s all right.” He glanced down at an overnight bag. “Another time then.”
Kirsten looked down.
Evan looked up at Kirsten. “Can I sleep with you guys tonight?”
She gripped the rug with her toes, staring at Sam. He’s… wow; he must trust you. “Don’t go… Please, come in.”
Elation spread over Sam’s face. He dropped his bag inside the door and walked up to them. Kirsten shied away from eye contact and looked at his chest. When she leaned into him, he embraced her. Evan reached out and got his arm around Sam’s neck. Kirsten closed her eyes, Evan’s breath at her neck and Sam’s heartbeat in her ear.
You can kiss him if you want. Evan’s voice drifted into her mind.
She laughed and looked up at Sam.
After a lingering stare, their lips met. Her pulse quickened. With Sam, she didn’t at all feel like the helpless girl running to the powerful man for protection. His presence reassured without diminishing, an equal at her side to face the world.
When Evan squirmed, she pulled back and smiled up at Sam. He followed her to the living room couch and sat at her left with an arm across her shoulders. Evan curled up on the other side, using her lap for a pillow. It seemed he’d taken it to heart that the source of his nightmares had been destroyed in every sense of the concept, and fell asleep within seconds of them settling in.
Kirsten tugged a blanket off the armrest and draped it over him, before resting her head against Sam’s chest. “I have no idea how to do this.”
“How to do what?” Sam’s fingers squeezed her right shoulder.
“Be with a boyfriend… do the whole relationship thing.” She chuckled once. “I spent so long trying to find a man who wouldn’t run away screaming when he found out I was psionic… I never actually got past the first date before. Now that you’re here, I don’t know what to do. I haven’t had much experience.”
Sam grinned. “You may find this difficult to believe, but I haven’t either.”
“Naw…” She poked him in the side.
“Alas.” He feigned a sigh. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever felt at ease around enough to talk to… I thought it was my luck that you were involved already.”
She scowled at the ceiling. “I don’t remember most of it anymore. I know he took me to these places… one embarrassed the hell out of me, but I can’t recall why. All the dinners and functions, everything’s just become this nauseating blur and mostly faded away. It must’ve been the influence. The one piece I do remember I wish I could forget.” She shuddered. “That and his old-ass face smiling at me before he knocked me out.”
Sam winced. “I’d give anything to take that all back like it didn’t happen.”
Evan’s mouth popped open in his sleep.
She grinned at him before looking up at Sam’s face. “Oh, there’s other things in my past I’d rather you use that wish on. But… there’s no point in lingering. I’m glad I met you, Samuel Chang.”
He brushed his hand over her hair. “I am the luckiest man in the world.”
“Let’s see if you still feel that way after a few months of weird things happening.” She tapped him on the nose.
“Oh, I think I can handle it. Your pal Theodore’s been by a few times. He seemed rather keen on warning me not to hurt you.”
Kirsten gasped. “You saw him?”
“Yeah. He hung out the other night for almost an hour. I got the feeling he liked me at least.”
Wow. An hour of manifesting? How old is Theo? “He’s a… strange guy.”
Sam kept teasing his fingers at her hair. “How’d you run into him?”
She blushed. “He stuck his head up through the toilet when I was on it and yelled hello. He amuses himself by doing embarrassing things to women, and making men shit their pants.”
“He likes scarin’ kids too,” muttered Evan, sounding half-awake. “Makes him mad ‘cause I’m not scared of him. I know he’s only playing, an’ won’t hurt me.”
Kirsten giggled. “Do you remember about four years ago when the City Arts and Recreation Commissioner was giving that speech in Sanctuary Park, and her pants flew off and got ‘carried away on an unusually strong breeze?’”
Sam laughed. “Yeah… The NewsNet played that over and over for months. That video’s cropped up in ads for belts too.”
“Well, Theodore objected to her plans to relocate the park to make room for more commercial space in that district.” Kirsten glanced down at Evan. “I’ve never said this to a man before… but do you wanna go to bed?”
“Sure.”
She smirked at him. I want to share the bed with you. Forget that sleeping bag. Is it okay if we just be together tonight? Ev is freaked out.
Sam kissed her again. “That sounds great.”
or once, Kirsten wasn’t upset at Nicole’s habit of casual surface thought reading. It prevented a prolonged argument about her sharing a bed with Sam and nothing happening but cuddling. Nicole didn’t believe her at first, even when she mentioned Evan had a bad fright and wanted to sleep in the same bed. Though Nicole did spot the six minutes of heavy kissing and roaming hands the next morning when Evan had hopped in the shower.
Kirsten leaned on her desk, flicking a finger at the empty coffee cup next to her. Her brain shifted gears between wondering if she should cave in and take her feelings for Sam in a more physical direction, dreading finishing updating the reports, and worrying about the situation with Charles Prentice and the whole Winchester mess. She batted around the thought of asking Nila to watch Evan someday soon so she could see what happened with Sam, or if that would lessen what they felt for each other.
I’m not a princess waiting for the knight. Dammit, I’ve wanted someone in my life so long, I am not gonna screw this up. She smiled, decision made. Dread came next. Ugh. I should really tell him about what I did when I was twelve. She bit her lip considering Father Villera’s words. No. What that man did. A scowl formed on her face. Sam deserves to know, but I don’t want him thinking I’m looking for sympathy. I need to tell him, but not yet…
Grumbling, she unlocked her terminal and got to adding more details wherever Captain Eze had put little stars in the report on the poltergeist at the Green residence. Ugh. That guy was such an asshole. The look on his daughter Alexis’s face when he thought the girl was psionic and didn’t want her made her fume.
Morelli had pulled a case tracking down a telepathic thief who had enough talent to erase himself from the memory of those he victimized. Nicole ran off only three minutes after breakfast arrived, a tactical mobilization in response to some gang warfare involving psionic fringers.
Kirsten sat alone in the squad room for over an hour, pecking away at old reports until angst about Senator Winchester got the better of her. She decided to see Director Carter. The woman might’ve been the head of all Division 0, but she supposedly had an open door policy, not to mention being one of the stronger telempaths on record.
She locked her terminal and got up. Fourteen minutes of corridors and elevators later, Kirsten approached a security checkpoint on the fifth floor; what the Police Administrative Center lacked in height, it made up for in width. A man and a woman in Psi Armor flanked a set of double doors leading to the Command offices.
“Good afternoon, Lieutenant,” said the man.
“Morning, Sergeant. I’d like to see Director Carter. Is she available?”
“One moment.” A short conversation with someone on the other end of a comm didn’t leave his helmet. Once his lips ceased moving, he nodded to her and swiped his forearm unit
past a sensor to open the door.
“Thanks.” She smiled at him and the woman on the other side of the door before going in.
Director Carter’s office sat at the end of a long hallway that curved to the right, close to another set of double doors at the end, which led to an auditorium. She announced herself with two soft knocks.
“Come in, Lieutenant,” said a confident sounding voice, tinged with a hint of grandmother.
Kirsten entered when the door opened with a soft squeak. A pair of four-foot tall spiral silver ‘leaf’ sculptures flanked a wide floor-to-ceiling window looking out over a small octagon-shaped park in the central hollow of the PAC building. At the center of the room close to the window, the director occupied a huge desk of glossy onyx.
She quick-walked up to the desk, and saluted. “Ma’am.”
Director Carter had her pewter hair up in a bun, and aside from her rank pins and lack of utility belt, wore the same uniform as Kirsten. Clingy black fabric with a high neck covered everything but her face and hands. It did have the added embellishment of two gold stripes on the outside of each sleeve, a ‘dress’ uniform not meant for field duty that identified her as part of the Command staff.
“At ease, Lieutenant.” Carter returned her salute and gestured at one of three chairs facing her desk. “You’re quite troubled. How can I help?”
Kirsten blushed at Carter’s subtle reaction to her sudden upwelling of gratitude and loyalty. Having the top commander of Division 0 pick up the emotional sense of regarding her as the mother/grandmother she’d always wanted was only slightly less mortifying than Nicole’s suggestion of walking from the medical wing to the squad room stark naked to convince pranksters to leave her alone.
Carter cleared her throat, failing to suppress a smile.
“Ma’am. I wanted to talk to you about a case I’m working on. I’ve been ordered to stand down on one aspect of the investigation, but it amounts to letting a murderer get away with it.”
“This is about Senator Winchester, isn’t it?” Carter’s eyes narrowed, though the focus of her ire did not seem to be Kirsten.
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