by Power, P. S.
"You know, this is a bit sad. Half of us could take on those guys at their own sport, and win. The other half could do it if they worked together." Bridget glanced at her mother and shrugged. "They don't seem to have power blasts allowed, so you might not do that well."
That got a chuckle, as if it were a joke, which it was after a fashion. A lot of Infected were able to do some amazing things, but it didn't all translate to every part of their life.
Cindy grinned.
"I'll be the coach, if it's all the same? Being smashed by a two hundred pound man doesn't sound all that fun to me."
That got the red headed girl to cross her eyes and wrinkle her nose.
"Wimp. That probably is the best use of your skills. You can steal the other team's plays and what they plan to do, which would be a big edge. That would probably work for other things too. Gambling, or the stock market? Get insider information and all that. No one would be able to catch you if you did it right. Start a hedge fund, or whatever that's called, and return high rates consistently, but only do as well as your best competitor. Boom, rich." It wasn't meant to be instructive, but it wasn't a horrible idea either.
If she weren't a hobbyist like she was, Cindy might even have looked into the idea. The truth was that she didn't want the obvious attention that being suddenly successful might bring, so had avoided a lot of things like that. The library wasn't just a job she was good at, but one that made her nearly invisible to most people. Financial tycoon, that would get her noticed. It could be bad, so she didn't do it.
The girl jumped up so fast that she had to catch the multi-colored chips before they could hit anything in the all white room. Only super powers let her save the day there, but she barely notice, setting the nice wooden bowl on the table and heading toward the door. Scott was on his feet as well, and actually sniffed the air, then nodded, his face a bit troubled.
"Rachel, and... Trivia?" That got a look at his daughter, who, it seemed, knew the other woman better. It didn't really seem that important, since both the new comers were well liked, if unexpected.
Mary smiled, a bit less tightly than she had been and stood too, which got Ron to do it as well. That left her as the only one sitting, so she did it as well, not wanting to call attention to herself, or not seem like a team player. Charlotte moved to the door first however, opening it carefully. She managed to get along with both women fairly well, and had mentioned to Rachel when dinner was going to be. It would have required them to fly in, but that wasn't too uncommon, and while not related by blood, Rachel was family.
The other woman, Trivia, was just a family friend. One that sort of had a crush on Brian, if Charlotte was right.
That got Cin to frown, then hide it. The woman could screw Proxy's brains out for all she cared. She was just there for the information. The stuff about her. As soon as the day was over, or at least once they all left town, she didn't need to see them ever again, now. It never hurt to meet people however, as long as they weren't annoying.
As soon as the door opened, two things were apparent. The first was which one Rachel Chambers was. She looked like a thirty year old version of Bridget. They weren't related by blood, but it was still there. When she tried to read the woman's story, the explanation for it was that Bridget had imprinted on her, when she was young. The looks, and a stronger version of her own powers, being kind of passed along. Blood relation or not.
The other woman looked at her and smiled. She was pretty. An eight or so, though it was clear that a lot of it was down to makeup. Her hair was perfect, and she was dressed in rather informal clothing. A nice shirt and black jeans. Ones that weren't too tight. She had on sneakers, though they were tied funny. When she tried to read the woman however, the world seemed to fold in on itself for a bit, and her head hurt. She could see the pages, and it did look like a standard book, but the title page of it just said, Everything.
When she mentally flipped to the next one, the whole thing shifted, into columns. One for each person in the room, and several others that weren't.
A hand came out, and the woman walked over to her.
"Hi! I'm Brie. Or close enough. I've had more than one name, but Brian knows me best by that one." She grinned then and stared directly into her eyes. "I know everything. About everyone."
Cin felt her stomach go cold.
That could, in potential, be a very bad thing.
Chapter five
Cindy didn't let her small tinge of fear stop her from nodding. It had always been a risk, and so far the woman hadn't screamed and run away, so she might not have that kind of power for real. It was also possible that she had so much information that she couldn't really track it all. Going to the index in her book, she was able to find a page about that, which indicated two things to her.
First, it was correct that having the information of an entire world in your head was impossible to handle at once. The second bit was that when Trivia met a new person she did make certain to focus on them. Always. That meant, for at least a few seconds, the woman would know everything about her. Longer if it was interesting. Which, Cindy knew, was the case.
Everyone else had stopped their collective hugging and patting of Rachel, and turned to watch them speaking, feeling that it was probably interesting for some reason.
Brie, being a bitch, obviously, nodded at her, smiling warmly.
"So, yes. I know that you're the serial killer that brought everyone here. Also that you're a lot more powerful than you know. I think Lyn is about to call dinner? We should go. This place smells wonderful, doesn't it?"
Everyone was staring at her, waiting for the denial of the charges. That would be silly, since the woman was always right. After a few moments they would have worked it all out on their own. Instead she nodded. Trying to steal the march a bit.
"It does smell nice, doesn't it? Well, we should go get set up. If I'm going off to prison later, I might as well get a good meal first." It might be her last, since she'd have to try and fight for her freedom.
There was no way for her to walk out of that room, or even to run, however. Fighting would be ridiculous. She wasn't certain, but in a raw fight, it was just possible that every single person in the house could kill her.
Bridget looked troubled, but not near tears or anything.
"Um... What? Is that a joke? We didn't even know if the killer was Infected. It was just a half lame excuse to get here." She was looking at Brie, who was looking polite now. Perfectly composed, actually.
Given everything, feeling a sense of defeat, if not panic, descend on her, Cindy forced a small smile and shook her head.
"No. She's right. It looks like I got too cocky? I shouldn't have let myself interact with you all like this. Here I thought it was a great way to get insider information. Well, some stuffing? I saw some cornbread dressing in there that looked really good."
Everyone else, all of them, simply stood there, until Brie moved and started walking. Rachel tensed, ready to fight her, but her words explained that she was a better fighter, and would have won against Cin even without any powers. Which she had on a level that pretty much ensured the deal. Even if the others liked her too much to kill, this woman would do it.
If Brie felt the same it was too hard to tell. Going back to the index over the woman's head she reengaged with her personal story, and read for a bit. Oddly enough, she didn't think that they'd need either bloodshed, or prison. At least if these others didn't kill her first, by accident. A lot of that came down to what Cindy did however, if she ran, or fought, they'd probably end her life instantly. If she went to dinner, there wasn't a whole lot they could really do about it.
After all, she was Infected, and the IPB was who you called in for that. Given her power level, which at a guess was closer to a class five, even if Cin really didn't see it yet, that meant Infected Operatives would be called in to handle her. Handily enough, right there in the house, they had more than enough firepower to bring her in. That meant they weren't even going
to have to call in the local police or the FBI.
So she went to the dining room, with everyone else following her. The table was already set and most of the way filled with food. It was delicious smelling. Seeing Lyn move in, with Brian following, she spoke first. It might not be easier to hear coming from her, but it might, possibly, save her life. That, or end it. There was a real risk to the whole thing. As always. You didn't kill people from compulsion, or for fun, and not know that a day like this one would eventually come.
"This looks wonderful! By the way, Trivia is here?" She looked over at the woman, and saw Brian smile. His words said that this was a pleasant surprise at least. "Also, she worked out that I'm actually the killer you came to look for in the first place? I am, and she wasn't joking about it, so... Yeah. I was hoping to get some food before being shipped off to the pokey?"
Brian blinked, and then, in an instant, figured out what she'd been doing. Almost all of it was perfect too. Even her using him to get at the information streams like she had been. The one thing he got wrong was a thing she corrected instantly, sitting down at the table. There was a name card for her, written in a very fine hand. The paper was a bone white, but it was embossed around the edges, and seemed very refined.
She spoke again, shrugging.
"I really don't know what's going on with last night's attack. It had nothing to do with me. I told you everything I was able to get so far on that one." She didn't expect to be believed, but Brie nodded, smiling.
Then she looked at the table, meaning fully.
"Lyn, could I get a plate too? I hate to impose like this, but I found some things that need to be discussed in person. Not about Cindy. That was interesting however. We should see if Dr. Burrows can help her, with her genetic treatment? The compulsion to kill is part of her first mode. Also psychopathic traits. If those are toned down she could be a real asset. Her power is about comparable to Christian's, in a lot of ways. Plus, she's far more willing to pry into people's secrets. We could use her to spy on almost anyone, with a bit of training."
She was about to start reading up on that supposed treatment, but didn't get a chance, Brian sighing at her.
"Damn. I actually kind of liked you, too." There was misery under the words, and above him, floating there in space feeling betrayed.
"I know. You're a great guy, Brian. I can't really feel that, but I know it. I'm pretty sure that if I were capable of that kind of thing I'd have really liked you. You too, Bridget. Only, without the girl on girl stuff." She shook her head then. "Though I might as well get used to that, huh? I probably won't get a big choice, in prison."
She didn't let herself sound upset about it, just matter of fact. Looking down at the fine china plate, which still had her name card in it, she waited for whatever was going to come. Her secret was out, and in a very real way, Cindy was as caught as a person could be without chains.
Oddly, Proxy, the boogeyman that millions feared, simply shrugged.
"Not really. We kill class fives if we can't control them directly. With a mental power like that, even we can't hold you forever. So, good news, you won't have to eat at the all girl cafe. On the down side, if the higher ups don't go for it, then we probably have to kill you. Tonight, most likely. Giving you time to think won't help us. That just gives you a chance to escape and keep killing. If you can't help it, then that won't work. It just means that others will eventually die." There was a certain sadness to it all.
Proxy went to the other room, to make a phone call. That and get the oven warmed rolls, and whipped butter. It was to her bestest pal ever, Marcia Turner of course, who would, in the end, be in charge of her life or death. Cin had to feel a bit bad about calling her names now.
Then, a bit stiffly, everyone else sat. They all had to move, so that Brie could sit down. She managed to put herself between Cindy and Brian, who had been right next to each other. When Brian came back, a few minutes later, he had the goods with him, and was roughly pleasant seeming.
After setting things down, he stood, and faced Cin directly. She was, after she turned to him, figuring that she was about to die, then and there.
"I talked to Marcia, and she agreed to let you live, as long as you're willing to take the treatment, and understand that if you try to escape, or even manage it, you'll just die. I can find you, pretty much anywhere you go. So if that happens, it means I have to be the one to do it." He sounded blank about it, but there was a lot more that had happened in a few moments on the phone.
Proxy had reported in, then practically begged for her life. The condition that he had to kill her if anything happened at all wasn't a joke however. It was his punishment for being too trusting. Swayed by the promise of some pussy into making a foolish decision.
Those words, which hadn't really been on the table at all, had been what Director Turner had actually said to him. It also wasn't totally wrong. That was a real part of the whole thing. He also kind of wanted to see if the genetic treatment would work on a woman. It might not, but hadn't been tested yet. For all they knew there could be side effects, and while a few people had volunteered anyway, they'd all been men so far.
She nodded.
"I can do that. You might have to lock me up, so I don't kill anyone? I don't feel that way all the time, but when it happens I sort of have to do it." Part of that was down to her simply really liking it, but she didn't share that part, and interestingly, Brie didn't tattle on her.
Instead there was just a nod.
"She isn't lying. We can keep tabs on her well enough. So, food? I haven't eaten all day. Intermittent fasting. It's a little early for my eating window, but I can fudge, once in a while."
Brian sat, still a bit tense, and looked at the woman.
"I noticed that you lost some weight. You look good." He was just making a statement, but the other woman preened, knowing that she was having a real effect on the man.
Cindy nearly told her to just tell him how she felt and do it with him, since there was more than enough attraction going both ways, but it felt like a poor plan to push her luck at the moment.
For one thing, a constant stream of sex coming from Cindy might just help keep her alive, over the next weeks and months, so getting Brie to hook up with him might not be her personal best plan.
Bridget was on her other side, and didn't wait for everyone to get in place before loading her plate up. It was a bit greedy, but there was more than enough anyway. She'd claimed that they had enough for about fifty people, but Lyn had, in all actuality, planned enough for eighty. Thankfully, since Rachel, the other red haired woman, would probably eat nearly as much as Bridget.
Then, once her own plate was full, she grabbed Cindy's and filled it too. With a lot less food, but more than enough. It was placed back in front of her, so the dishes could be passed around. It was a bit abrupt, but the girl wasn't trying to be mean, just let everyone know the Cin got to eat too.
Then she half muttered to the table.
"Not everyone I've killed really deserved it. I just didn't have a choice."
Which oddly had Proxy clearing his throat.
"I've been there too, I think. It's so hard to know. Anyway, let's have dinner. This all looks lovely, mom." He smiled at her, and it seemed real.
His mother looked back at him and waved a bit.
"You helped. Who'd like to carve the turkey?"
That, it turned out, was Ron, and he did a horrible job of it. The slices were more like torn out chunks by the end, and at one point, laughing, he just pulled the legs off. Ripping them away. For all of that the meat was tender and flavorful, being spiced and coated with maple. There was ham too, but she passed on that when it came around, since she had a fully loaded plate already. No one ate until the last person was ready.
Then she waited for someone to insist on praying, but no one did. Ron just smiled at them all, and waved. "Dig in?"
That was enough.
It was probably the best Thanksgiving dinner, as far as the me
al went, that she could remember. The stress level was pretty normal however, Cin noticed. Everyone was pretending that nothing was wrong, even though they were sitting there, wondering how evil she really was. Well, that wasn't totally true, she realized, looking around. Brian actually felt bad for her, being forced to kill, even though he kind of got that she enjoyed it at the same time. Bridget was feeling bad for the things that she'd done in the past, and Mary wondered...
What the big deal was.
To her mind being able to kill men, in battle, even unarmed ones, just proved her right to do it. If they didn't like it, or if it had happened in their territory, they could put her on trial, but this city, Vancouver, was Cindy's home. The only ones there that should have a big problem with the idea were the locals, Lyn and Ronald. They simply made small talk, appearing appropriately worried that they might be killed next. True, Brian was their son, if by marriage for Ron, but he didn't offer to abuse or kill the new woman in their midst. Instead he allowed himself to be lead by this Brie person that was attempting to seduce him, even at the table.
Subtly enough that saying anything about it would be poor form, but it was, indeed, happening.
The words were flowing in front of her eyes as Cindy enjoyed the dressing. It was nearly perfect and there were two kinds. They even had the cranberry jelly she liked. Not enjoying the food didn't make any sense, given that it was there, and no one had tried to steal hers yet. She did eat quickly, knowing that Bridget might just want to have whatever was left, if she could. The girl, thin and tiny, put food away like a competitive eating champion. On the good side she wasn't too gross about it, but the food vanished at a good pace anyway, just over a slightly longer time period than a contest winner might use.
Her father, golden and attractive even if he was weird, managed to be slower in his pace that way. Mary ate, sticking to the potatoes, dressing and non-meat things for the most part. It was all pretty heavy for her tastes, but it would, the text shared openly, be rude to decline, if the day was truly only about eating. That seemed strange to her, but this wasn't her home.