“You’re right—I’m a loser,” he said, staring hard at the bar that held him firmly in his seat. He looked up when he felt Alya gently caress his arm with a fingertip.
“No, not a loser,” she said. “A good person.” Their starburst gazes met. “You care more than most.”
“It’s a curse.”
“Why? Because you find love a weak virtue?”
Devon chuckled. “Nah…I’m just a sucker for punishment.”
Alya’s smile waned and Devon heard her sigh as she withdrew her finger and lay back in her chair. “I wish I could heal you,” she said.
Devon glanced down at his arm, locked firmly to his seat, and immediately missed her touch.
“Yeah, me too,” Devon softly replied, but Alya’s eyes were already closed as she rested in her chair. He didn’t think that she had heard him. He hoped that she was sleeping.
Glancing across the aisle, Devon caught Alek glaring outright at him; he quickly averted his gaze. The last thing he needed was to get his ass kicked by her twin for talking to her. It was just like back at North Central. Geez! When was he ever going to get a break?
“Hey! Psssst. Vomit boy!”
Devon looked over at Nevada. She gestured with her head toward the seat next to her.
“Is she dead or alive? I don’t wanna be chained next to a stinking corpse, ya know? I got rights.”
Devon leaned forward and took a careful look at Bai Lee. Her face was a swollen bloody mess with an oozing gash across her right temple. Her nose looked broken, and her lip was bleeding, too.
“Uh…” Devon said as his eyes wandered her small frame in search of a sign that she was still breathing.
And that’s when he saw it.
“Oh, yeah, she’s alive.”
Bai Lee was giving him the finger.
Chapter Three
“YOU guys are such wimps,” Bai Lee chided. “You should have jumped those idiot feds when you had the chance!” Her eyes were open, and she was grinning at them with blood-coated teeth. She looked up at the camera above the Latino kid’s head. “They’re probably in the command center right now with a pair of tweezers and a hand lens trying to locate the whereabouts of their pricks!”
“Watch your language,” said the musclehead by the door with a scowl. He didn’t look the least impressed with Bai Lee. “We may be prisoners, but we don’t have to behave like animals. Besides,”—he nodded toward Alya—“we have a lady present.”
Bai Lee glanced down the row with a look of disgust. “Who? …Her? I don’t see no lady—she’s practically a corpse!”
“Says the blood-splattered Chinese be-otch who couldn’t even manage a proper escape,” Nevada replied with a smirk. “Enjoy your ass-whooping much?”
Bai Lee flashed her a deadly smile—one that had Devon seriously concerned for Nevada’s safety. “Oh, yeah, and I’m ready for seconds.”
Nevada leaned forward as far as her restraints would allow so that she was towering over Bai Lee, nose to nose. Their eyes locked, and the tension in the room rocketed into the stratosphere. Someone was about to get her face chewed off—and by no means was that a good thing.
“Bring it, bitch!” Nevada growled.
“NO!”
The word came out more as a roar of rage than an actual command. And every pair of starburst eyes in the room was suddenly trained on Devon.
Great… Why’d he have to go and play the hero?
“What is it, vomit boy?” Nevada cooed with a deadly glare that slid from Devon back to Bai Lee. “You afraid there won’t be anything left of your new girlfriend after I finish ripping her face off?”
“My name’s Devon McWilliams, not vomit boy,” he corrected her. “And it’s not about that. I was just—”
“What?” demanded Bai Lee, her eyes cold with fury, “You don’t like girl-on-girl action?”
“Actually, I do enjoy a little girl-on-girl action as much as any red-blooded American male. However—” He was about to blurt out some lame-sounding something when he felt Alya’s reassuring touch on his arm.
“Now is not the time to fight amongst ourselves.” She had finished his thought and Devon could hear the exhaustion in her voice. “We must unite if we are to survive.”
“Unite,” Bai Lee spat. “Yeah, right.” She narrowed her eyes at Alya, as if she were lower than the dirt on a sidewinder’s belly. “Bite me.”
“Excuse me?” Devon cried in outrage. He threw his weight forward, straining against his bonds. “How dare you speak to her that way? You don’t know what she’s been through! What we’ve all been through!” He felt Alya’s gentle squeeze for him to stop, but the pain and panic of the last three days continued to spew from his lips. “You might be some badass ninja Barbie where you come from—but here? In this room? On this one-way flight to hell? We’re pretty much all equally screwed! Together! Sideways!”
The entire room was silent.
No one moved.
Devon’s heart thumped so rapidly that he thought that it just might explode from his chest and take flight. Too bad he wouldn’t be able to soar out of the room after it and disappear.
Bai Lee slowly shook her head. “Sideways, huh?” Her icy glare softened, and she looked like she might actually laugh outright in his face.
Geez! How stupid had he sounded?
“Yes, sideways!” Devon spurted. “You’ll be screwed in whatever way you won’t like it. That’s what the feds are gonna do to you.”
Bai Lee shrugged. “Doubful. When it comes to being screwed, I’m usually up for anything.”
Devon groaned and fell back against his seat. He couldn’t talk to that madwoman! She was seriously depraved! And she could probably kick his scrawny little chicken ass with her left eyebrow alone.
And that’s when he realized that Alya’s hand was no longer resting on his arm.
Devon looked over at her and found Alya slightly turned away from him, her cheeks wet with tears. Oh, man, had he made her cry?
“Alya? Are you okay?” he asked softly.
“Fine,” she replied, but Devon could hear her choking on a sob.
“You’re not fine, Alya.” Devon tried to reach over and touch her, but the shackles held him firmly in place. Damn it! Why weren’t the feds helping her? It was beyond obvious that she was dying.
Like I told you, the feds won’t help because they’re cowards. They want us all to die.
What the hell?!
That voice was Bai Lee’s!
And it was inside his head!
Devon’s head snapped toward her. Bai Lee was a telepath! She had no right to be rummaging around inside his head without his permission! “How in the heck are you able to—”
Watch what you say! The feds are listening!
Bai Lee offered Devon a little smirk from across the aisle as he struggled to change what he was going to say, mid-sentence.
“—uh, uh, uh…kick ass like you do?”
Yeah, well, that was stupid, but what the heck else was he supposed to say? She could come at him with the speed of thought. If he’d been able to access his own powers, he’d at least have had some kind of mental barrier to protect himself with, lame as it was. Most psions could defend their thoughts from telepaths, even if telepathy wasn’t their specialty. But take away a psion’s power and he was as helpless as any baseline.
Actually, everyone in this room was now at Bai Lee’s mercy. And if Devon was going to get any answers, then he was going to have to be a heck of a lot more delicate in his approach. Defenseless, it was hard to hide much of anything from a telepath.
Bai Lee was looking at Devon with a smartass grin on her face. “You want a lesson in ass-kicking?” She glanced up at the camera positioned over the Latino kid’s chair. “Maybe the feds would like to come back in here and allow me to give you another demonstration. I know I’d love it.”
“We probably all would, but I’m pretty sure that’s not going to happen. The feds aren’t that stupid,” Devon s
aid. He wasn’t about to take his eyes off Bai Lee, not until he knew what she was up to and how the heck she was able to access her psionic ability while restrained. “So, tell me, then, Miss Chen, what brings you aboard our little flight to Club Fed?”
Bai Lee’s grin widened. “Oooh, you like to jump right in, don’t you?”
Actually, Devon mostly stepped into things—like dog crap.
Or fell off of them—like towering buttes. So, “jumping in,” like he was about to do, was an altogether new experience.
“I like to get to know someone I’ve just met,” Devon said. He was spewing so much bullshit that it was hard for him to think straight. Bai Lee was a telepath. Why did she have access to her powers when no one else did? “Besides, I’m sure it’s a long flight to Washington, DC, from wherever we are—”
“We’re in Artesia, New Mexico,” Bai Lee said, interrupting him.
“Great,” Devon shot back a killer smile, which he didn’t feel in the least. “Then there’s plenty of time.”
Bai Lee’s eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him, and Devon could tell that she was trying to figure out what kind of game he was playing. He held his breath and waited. Talking was about the only thing he was good at—well, that and listening. His powers being as lame as they were, Devon often had to talk his way out of another swirlie in the boys’ locker room. He’d take conversation over a physical altercation any day.
“Okay, fine,” Bai Lee said. “I’m open to discussion. So, what are you offering me?”
“Offering you?”
“Yeah, you know…a little wager.” Bai Lee was grinning now. And that wasn’t a good thing.
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“What kind of wager?” Nevada asked.
“The best kind,” Bai Lee said with a vicious smile that chilled Devon to his core.
Your freedom.
Bai Lee’s voice came through loud and clear inside Devon’s head. And judging by the shocked looks on the faces around him, she had distinctly broadcast herself into everyone’s minds at once.
“How’d you—” Nevada began, but a look from Bai Lee instantly shut her up.
Even the Latino kid had stopped praying. He sat in his chair, eyes wide open, gaping at her.
Oh, crap! The big, fat, freaking cat was out of the bag.
“Let’s hear her out,” said the musclehead by the door. “I’m not much of a gambler, but the way things stand I don’t believe any of us has much to lose.”
“I’m with him,” said Alek. “I’m always open to new experiences, especially when there’s a little wager involved.”
“Me, too,” Nevada said. “Count me in.”
The Latino kid sputtered something in rapid-fire Spanish at Bai Lee, and she nodded in agreement. Apparently, Ninja Girl was bilingual too.
“Okay, Miguel here’s onboard,” said Bai Lee. She then turned her attention down the aisle to look at Alya. “What about you, princess?”
“I am not a princess,” came Alya’s soft reply. “However, I would very much like to entertain your little wager.”
“Excellent.” Bai Lee grinned. “I’m not sure when the feds plan for us to take off, but if we’re all in agreement, we should get started.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Devon said with as much indignation as he could muster. “Did I miss something? I only agreed to a conversation, not some crazy wager where you’ll be insisting on God knows what kind of satanic ritual as compensation.”
“Oh, Devon, you’ve got it all wrong,” said Bai Lee with a sweet grin that contrasted starkly with the blood smeared across her face. It made her look confident, sexy…and more than a little scary. “Don’t you know? You’re the inspiration for this little fête…and I just love to party.”
A fête? In this place? Oh, come on now!
Where was a patch of grass to step on when he needed it?
Bai Lee sat up straighter in her seat, all the while retaining her pleasant demeanor. “Devon wants us to get to know one another. So let’s get to it.” She pointed across the aisle to the Latino kid. “His name is Miguel Antonio Martinez Ruiz.”
Upon hearing his name, Miguel started speaking rapidly in Spanish. Bai Lee nodded as he spoke and translated.
“Miguel says he’s fourteen. From Guatemala. And that he’s an untrained telepath.”
Miguel continued to jabber on and on, until Bai Lee held up her hand and said, “Look, kid, enough already.”
“Why?” asked Devon. “What’d he say?”
Bai Lee rolled her eyes. “A bunch of dumb shit about how nice it is to finally be able to speak to someone in Spanish, yadda, yadda.”
Devon turned to Miguel and waved his right hand as best he could, which wasn’t much. “Hey, Miguel. Nice to meet you.”
Miguel smiled back in return, probably just happy to be referred to by name.
Next, Bai Lee turned her attention to the big guy beside the door. “So, what’s your story, tall, dark, and brooding?”
“Vahn de Montague. That’s Vahn, with an H. I’m seventeen…psi-blade.”
Oh, no wonder the guy was so beefed up. Psi-blades were considered the true warriors of the psionic disciplines. They could generate powerful force-field projections from their hands that appeared like colorful swords or blades. A psi-blade’s projection reflected the color of his or her aura. Many could create shields or armor as well. Like healers, tech-heads, and seers, psi-blades were highly prized by powerful people worldwide; as a consequence, they often didn’t mix with the general population of psions at the facilities. Mostly, they were carted off to secret government installations to be used in matters of “national security.”
Devon strained to get a better look at Vahn. Outside of his bottled dye job and smudged eyeliner, Devon could make out the hard edges of his jawline and the ragged combat scar that ran down the side of his face only to disappear into the collar of his T-shirt. His hands, too, were zigzagged with thin, pale scars that appeared whenever he balled them into beefy fists.
“Oooh, I just love me some psi-blade,” purred Nevada. “How kick-ass…and manly.”
Vahn grunted. “It’s not so manly when you can’t protect the one you love.”
Bai Lee’s grin stretched wider. “Oh, I do detect a story there.”
“It’s not for your ears,” Vahn growled.
Bai Lee shook out her long, dark hair. “But it’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
When Vahn looked away, Devon knew that Bai Lee had hit upon a painful truth that the psi-blade wished to remain his and his alone.
So much for secrets when there was a telepath around.
And Devon was suddenly very worried about where this little wager of hers was going to take them.
“So, what about you, Nevada?” asked Bai Lee. “What’s your specialty?”
“My what?” Nevada turned to face Bai Lee. “You gotta speak up. I’m a bit deaf in that ear.”
“Your psionic discipline,” Bai Lee clarified. “What is it?”
“Windwalker,” Nevada replied with a shrug. “Hence the hairstyle, or lack of one. Though I can’t say that I wasn’t pleased with the reaction I got from my mother when she saw it.”
“So, you fly?” Devon asked before he could stop himself. Windwalkers could manipulate air molecules in fantastic ways. “What’s it like?”
“Way overrated,” Nevada said with a sigh. “Humans just aren’t meant to fly. First off, it’s freezing up there in the atmosphere. And the higher you go, the more difficult it is to breathe because of the lack of oxygen. Landing always sucks. And long hair will whip your face raw when you’re being propelled by high winds.”
“Oh,” Devon said, surprised by her answer. “I had no idea.”
Nevada smiled then, and Devon thought that he had never seen a more beautiful woman. “But I have to say, when I wear an insulated flight suit and I’m gliding across the earth, just me and my element? I’m one. I fit. I’m not just some freak anymore.” She paused, a
faraway look in her eyes. “I belong, you know?”
Actually, Devon had no clue as to what truly belonging felt like; instead, he said, “Yeah…sure.”
“Oh, bravo,” groused Alek. “How disgustingly sweet.”
“What’s your problem?” Devon shot back, suddenly defensive.
Alek turned to Nevada. “You never once mentioned to the poor boy that you are in fact the daughter of a very powerful US Senator…Alison.”
“Don’t call me that,” she said, the color draining from her cheeks.
“I heard your father turned you over to the government in exchange for his Senate seat,” Alek continued spitefully. “Is that true?”
“Alek!” Alya cried; her voice, even in its outrage, barely carried above a whisper. “Leave her alone!”
“Why?” he retorted indignantly. “She’s a spoiled-rotten celebrity! Everything she does—her marriages, her psi facility escape attempts, her psionic tattoos—it’s all because she wants to make headlines! She craves fame and doesn’t give a crap about what it’s doing to her own kind!”
Devon gaped at Nevada in surprise. “You’ve been married more than once?”
Nevada shrugged. “A few times.”
“Uh, you stupid Americans,” Alek said in disgust. His Romanian accent was more pronounced the angrier he got. “Don’t you understand that you’re playing right into the hands of the worldwide media? You’re just giving them an excuse to eradicate us!”
“Alek,” said Alya, “This is not the time or the place for one of your sermons.”
“Oh, but it is, dear sister,” Alek said, shaking his head. “God made us the way we are for a reason. We have a purpose. A destiny to fulfill. And I’m pretty sure it doesn’t include serving mankind.”
“Talk like that will only get us killed that much quicker,” said Vahn, glowering from his seat by the door. “Just because you feel mightily connected to your truth doesn’t mean that you should spread it like gospel.”
“So, comrade, you are not a believer?”
“I didn’t say that.” Vahn balled his large, scarred hands into fists. “What did you say your discipline was again?”
Alek smiled. “I didn’t.”
Freaks of Nature (The Psion Chronicles) Page 3