by Jade Kerrion
“Regardless of what the rest of the world does, I’m not going to get into the habit of dumping my problems on Danyael’s doorstep,” Dee retorted.
“Oh, trust me, Danyael will be furious if you try to tackle this without him. He’s just told me not to take on Seth and to deliver you and Dum safely to the clinic. Something’s up. Danyael’s edgier than usual. I can feel it.”
“Danyael?” The personification of perfect equilibrium? “Seth said he could send Danyael back to prison with a click of the button. I’m not going to drag Danyael into this.”
“Too late,” Jessica snapped briskly. “You dragged Danyael into this two months ago when you went to his clinic and asked him to train Dum. Or rather, he agreed to be dragged into it when he agreed to train Dum.”
Dee ground her teeth. She hated it when Jessica was right.
I’m always right.
She hated it when Jessica was nosey. “Fine. Give me directions to the clinic.”
The journey to the clinic was not uneventful. Seth hounded them the entire way, though Jessica’s telekinetic powers kept his reckless driving from affecting them too badly. Dee’s heart was pounding when she turned the SUV down Good Hope Road. She swung the vehicle into the empty parking spot in front of the clinic, released the seatbelt and raced into the clinic, Jessica and Dum right on her heels.
She screeched to a halt. Noon was typically prime time for the clinic, with patients spilling out the door and around the corner, but the clinic was empty. Even the grumpy receptionist was absent. “Where’s everyone?” Dee asked.
“I told them to leave.” Danyael limped forward, his voice grim.
Jessica looked at him sharply. “Are you seriously expecting a fight?”
“But why would you send them away?” Dee asked.
Jessica answered for Danyael, her tone patient as if talking to a young child. “Because Danyael’s powers would affect any and all unshielded people within an enclosed space.”
Damn. “And what if you’re outdoors?”
Jessica shrugged. “Then his empathic powers travel like gas travels through the air, not necessarily passing through walls, but certainly going around them and creating a hell of a lot of havoc along the way.”
Danyael smiled without humor. “I’m not safe, Dee, or are you just figuring that out?”
She bristled, glaring at him. “I’ve always known.” She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of screeching tires. Seth.
Danyael pushed past her and was standing in front of the teenagers when Seth stalked through the door. “Hello, Seth.” His voice was calm.
Seth jolted to a stop. His blue eyes narrowed, and when he spoke, he was spitting with apparent anger. “How dare you get in the way of council business?”
“I was under the impression that the council had washed its hands of Dum,” Danyael said, all sweet reason. “Didn’t you tell them that the council was no longer permitted to train him?” The alpha empath tilted his head. “Surely you weren’t lying to them, trying to draw Dum under your direct influence instead of leaving him under the protection of the council?”
Seth’s lips worked, but no sound emerged. A tiny drop of spittle appeared at the side of his mouth.
Danyael did not move, but his voice hardened. “Why, Seth? What is your interest in an empath?”
Seth pointed a trembling finger at Danyael. “You stay out of this.”
“It’s too late, Seth. I was drawn into this when you lied to them.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did, and I don’t even need my empathic powers to know that. I ask again, what is your interest in an empath?”
Seth strode toward Dum and seized him by the collar. Danyael reached out, touched Seth’s hand, and the alpha telepath’s grip loosened as he recoiled, screaming in pain. Dum scrambled back, dragging Dee with him.
“I won’t let you have him.” Danyael said quietly.
Seth’s lips curled. “You can’t stop me. I can send you back to prison.”
“I’m already in prison, bound to a twenty-mile radius of the council.”
Seth’s eyes glittered with pure malice. “I can make sure you die in ADX Florence.”
Danyael shook his head. “Been there, did that, survived.” His tone seemed much too casual. “What do you know about live blood transfusions?”
The question, seemingly out of place, caused Dee to blink.
Alarm and fear flittered across Seth’s face.
Anger flashed through the room, so intense it took Dee’s breath away. Danyael, his crippled leg notwithstanding, fisted his hand into Seth’s shirt and slammed him against the wall. Raw fury seemed to fuel Danyael’s strength. “You will stay the hell away from Dum. If you come near him—if you touch him, I will kill you.”
Seth paled, briefly recoiling from Danyael’s anger, but then he shoved at Danyael, sending the empath stumbling back. “I will have him.” Seth swore, turned, and strode away.
Dee did not speak until Seth’s car pulled away from the curb. She entwined her fingers to stop the trembling and looked up at Danyael. The alpha empath’s face was taut with tension, his dark eyes glistening with the hint of tears. “What was that all about?” she asked quietly.
He shook his head. “I’d rather only tell the story once.” He reached for his cell phone and hit the first number on speed dial. “Zara,” he said quietly when the call was picked up on the other end. “Can you come by the clinic? I need to talk to you.”
Dee’s pulse quickened. She glanced at her pale-faced brother. What could have been so important for Danyael to drag Zara into the madness of a mutant’s life?
Dee was still fidgeting restlessly when Zara arrived a half-hour later with a cheerful toddler in tow. The assassin wore a grey sweatshirt over a pair of faded jeans and looked as stunning as she usually did in her more form-fitting “work” clothes.
“Daddy,” Laura Itani cooed and trotted forward on chubby and unsteady legs. After climbing onto Danyael’s lap and bestowing a multitude of kisses on Danyael’s face, she seemed content to cuddle with an arm wrapped around Danyael and another hand clenching a white teddy bear.
Zara chose to stand directly across from Danyael. She leaned against the wall. If Dee did not know better, she might have said that Zara looked relaxed. The narrowed violet eyes suggested otherwise. “What’s the problem?” she asked without preamble.
“For sixteen years, Seth Copper used me for live blood transfusions.”
From across the room, Zara stared with silent incredulity at him.
He started to explain. “Live blood transfusions are—”
“I know what the hell they are. Two people are hooked up and their blood is shared, creating a single circulatory system. I also know that live blood transfusions were banned by the International Genetics and Ethics Council and governments around the world when the studies showed evidence that the brain activity of the two parties started to align.”
Danyael nodded. “When old and young people were joined by live blood transfusions, the neurons of the older people showed increased activity, and vice versa.”
“And what happens when they join mutants?” Zara asked quietly.
Danyael shrugged, the motion pained rather than dismissive. “No one knows. It’s never been done.”
“Until now. When did you find out?”
“I found out for the first time that someone was using me for live blood transfusions about two years ago, on the plane from New York to D.C., the night you freed Galahad from Pioneer Labs. I did not see his face then, and he disguised his voice, but he told me then that he’d been using me for transfusions for sixteen years prior to that.”
“Coinciding, of course, with when Lucien found you and brought you to the council for help. Seth was one of your trainers, wasn’t he? How could he do this to you for sixteen years without you knowing?”
Danyael looked away. “Apparently, there’s an off-switch in my head, and two years ago, it stopped work
ing.”
“An off-switch?” Zara’s eyes widened and then narrowed, the violet sparkle turning into a dangerous flash as she pushed away from the wall and started pacing the length of the narrow room. “The council put an off-switch in your head to knock you out on a whim? You mean they actually facilitated Seth’s predatory behavior? How many times has he used you for a transfusion since?”
“None, I think.”
“What about ADX?” Zara asked.
“I don’t have clear memories of ADX, but not since then.”
“You’re sure?”
Danyael nodded.
“And you’re sure it’s him.”
Jessica chimed in. “Seth’s body language and brainwaves all but screamed it when Danyael asked him if he knew about live blood transfusions.” She shook her head, her blue eyes large in her face. “This is wrong. The council has to know about this.”
“Seth is the council,” Danyael pointed out. “Why would the council believe a class-five threat over the—”
“Seth may be director general of the council, but that can be easily amended,” Zara promised.
Danyael’s dark eyes narrowed. “That’s not why I called you.”
She met his gaze. “So why did you call me?”
“Seth has his heart set on Dum. I need your help protecting him.”
Jessica frowned. “I can protect him.”
Danyael shook his head. “You’re with the council.”
Her brow furrowed. “Are you saying that I take orders from that sleaze ball?”
“No, but are you ready to break away from the protection of the council?” Danyael asked pointedly.
Jessica folded her arms across her chest. Her chin tipped up. “I can take care of myself.”
“You’re fourteen.”
“Fifteen,” Jessica snapped.
“You have growing up to do, and the council is still the best place for you until you come into your full strength.” Danyael looked back at Zara. “Can you put someone on Dum, and on Dee too?”
“Why?” Zara asked.
The question seemed to startle him. “Because he’s in danger, and by extension, she is too.”
“No, I meant, why should I bother? What are two scruffy teenagers to me?”
Dee’s gaze shuttled between Zara and Danyael. Zara’s question was bait, no doubt about it. The real question was would Danyael snap at the bait?
“What do you want from me?” Danyael asked.
Dee rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. No, Danyael, it’s not a trade. She just wants you to know she’s doing this for you, not for us.
Danyael could not hear Dee, of course, but Jessica could. The alpha telepath stifled a giggle.
For all his empathic powers, Danyael was apparently as dense as most men when it came to understanding the feelings of women.
Zara’s fists clenched, and she ground her teeth. Dee wondered if Zara would actually hit Danyael. Zara was not by nature a patient person, and Danyael’s obliviousness would have tried the most patient soul.
The assassin flung her hands up. “Forget it. I’ll set up bodyguards for twenty-four-seven protection.”
“Thank you,” Danyael said.
“You’re not going to let Seth get away with it, are you?”
“No, but there are right and wrong ways to do it.” He clearly implied that Zara’s ways were the wrong ways.
Zara chuckled. “There are only fast and slow ways to do it. Right or wrong, it’s all a haze of grey. What is this ‘right’ way you intend to pursue?”
“I’ll talk to Alex Saunders.”
“He’s permanently vacationing in the south of France.”
“I can get his number from Xin.”
Zara chuckled. “Are you actually going to talk to him? You’ve avoided speaking to him since what happened on the Fourth.”
“Alex was the former director general of the council. I…don’t know who else to go to for help.”
That time, Dee distinctly heard Zara snarl under her breath.
She wants you to go to her, idiot. To head off the fight between Zara and Danyael, Dee asked, “What does this, uh, bodyguard entail?”
“Some of the mercenaries who work for me are alpha mutants. They’ll keep an eye on you when Jessica can’t.” Zara turned to Danyael. “What about you? Should I tag someone on you?”
Danyael shook his head. “No, I’m not in any danger. It’s Dum he wants now.”
Dee did not have a chance to speak to Jessica until much later that evening. The dance club was crowded and busy, and Dee’s feet were aching, her sneakers notwithstanding, by the time she sneaked in a break by escaping to a quiet corner of the parking lot.
It was not entirely coincidental that it was the corner typically occupied by Jessica.
The younger teenager was leaning against a car and sipping from a plastic cup. She flashed Dee a grin. “What’s up?”
“I’m worried.”
“About Seth?”
Dee nodded. “Are you going to get into trouble with him?”
Jessica snorted. “He wouldn’t dare. I’m out of his league, as is Danyael, and he knows it.”
“But he controls the council.”
“He’s only been in charge for three months since Alex stepped down. His control isn’t absolute, nowhere near that, as a matter of fact.”
“Has he always been this…crazy?”
Jessica shook her head, a frown on her lips. “No, he was a great guy, or so I thought. I wonder now, though, if it was due to regular transfusions with Danyael’s blood.”
“But what would Danyael’s blood have done to Seth?”
“I don’t know. Maybe some of Danyael’s empathic powers transferred, or Danyael’s legendary emotional control. Perhaps it explains why Seth became slowly unhinged after the transfusions stopped. I just don’t know why someone wouldn’t have noticed it earlier.”
“Maybe Seth was never put under pressure before,” Dee said.
“That could be it,” Jessica acknowledged. “An alpha telepath with empathic powers is downright scary.”
Dee exhaled loudly. “But what would Danyael have taken from Seth in the transfusion?”
“Those incredible psychic shields, perhaps. Seth is a defense-class alpha telepath, after all.”
“Do you think Danyael will go crazy on us too?”
Jessica shook her head. “I don’t think so. If he didn’t kill Seth on the spot when he found out that Seth was behind the live blood infusions, he’s not going to flip out on us, now or in the future.”
“Is Danyael really that powerful?”
Jessica arched an eyebrow. “What do you know about Danyael’s powers?”
“That’s he’s an alpha empath.”
“That term doesn’t mean much because alpha empaths vary dramatically in the range of their powers. As an empath, by definition, Danyael controls emotions, but it’s really much more than that. Danyael controls physical pain. He can absorb it or channel it. It’s how he heals others, and it’s how he drove Seth back when Seth grabbed your brother. Danyael can also channel emotional pain, and emotional pain makes physical pain look like pink candy floss in comparison. It doesn’t matter if the person he touches has psychic shields. He can push emotional pain past psychic shields, and drive the person to suicide. He can also kill without physical contact by dropping his internal and external psychic shields. At that point, his empathic powers will launch his pain outward and kill everything in its path.”
“So that’s why you’re in his head.”
“If he dies, his shields drop, and people will die. It is not an acceptable outcome. I’m the backup psychic shield. If he dies, I’m supposed to contain his empathic powers until it fades away.”
“How long will that take?”
“No idea. Never had an alpha empath with Danyael’s level of power die on me before.” Jessica sounded nonchalant. “Ten minutes? Ten hours? I don’t know.”
<
br /> Dee’s brow furrowed. “Will you be able to shield him for that long?”
“The trick is not to worry too much about it in advance. As long as you think you can get through the next minute, you’ll be okay.”
“Not much for planning, are you?”
Jessica shrugged. “Sometimes, all the planning in the world doesn’t help, and you just need to do what you have to in order to survive. You worry about picking up the pieces later.”
Dee arched an eyebrow. “That almost makes sense.”
“I learned that from Danyael. No one else has refined survival to such an art form.”
“You like him too, don’t you?”
“Of course. Most people who spend any time at all with him do.” Jessica chuckled. “The repulsive effect of his psychic shield doesn’t seem to work as well as it was intended, not anymore.”
“Why?”
“No idea. I’m not an expert on alpha empaths.”
“Maybe he’s coming to terms with himself,” Dee said.
Jessica looked up at Dee. “What does that mean?”
Dee shrugged, reaching for Jessica’s cup and taking a sip. The drink tasted like Coke, minus any alcoholic influences. “Normal humans create façades to keep people from seeing us as we really are, but if the façade and the real you are pretty similar, then there’s no need for a façade. Maybe the outside Danyael and the inside Danyael are finally aligning.”
Jessica chuckled. “That’s probably bad news for most people, because the inside Danyael is kick-ass powerful and downright miserable.”
Dee shook her head. “I don’t know what you see. Anyone with eyes can see that Danyael isn’t miserable. Yes, his life is miserable by most standards, but he’s quite content, even happy.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Most people can act happy when they’re unhappy inside, but no one can keep giving the way Danyael does unless there’s something real on the inside. You can tell from his eyes when he’s at peace and when he’s not. Most of the time, he’s relaxed and chilled out. No one can act it, at least not consistently. Trust me.”
Jessica hesitated briefly. “I do.” She laughed aloud when Dee twitched, startled. “Sometimes, our mutant powers get in the way of us using our other senses.”