Miriya
Page 1
MIRIYA
A Double Helix Novella
Jade Kerrion
Copyright Jade Kerrion 2014
License Notes
MIRIYA
Thirty years into the First Genetic Revolution, society’s tolerance for human derivatives is wearing thin. Clones and in vitros are regarded with suspicion, and mutants with resentment. Yet in spite of the hostile environment, some alpha telepaths—like Miriya Templeton—have thrived.
Her luck is running out.
Destiny has set her life on a collision course with Danyael Sabre, the alpha empath who can kill with a touch. Whether he becomes friend or foe, whether he and she live or die, will depend on the choices she makes. On her decisions hang the outcomes of the Second Genetic Revolution.
Miriya, however, does not believe in destiny, nor want any part of the revolution.
It is up to the enforcer, Jake Hansen, to convince her otherwise, and he is running out of time.
~*~
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CHAPTER ONE
“She will win the battle.”
In his fifth-floor office in the Mutant Affairs Council headquarters, Alex Saunders dragged his attention away from the view of the Potomac winding lazily through Alexandria, and looked at the young woman standing in front of his desk. He searched her pale face, hoping to catch a glimpse of humor or irony following her startling proclamation. Unfortunately, he saw neither.
Stifling a sigh, he waved his hand at the leather chair across from his desk. “Have a seat.”
Erin Bryne arched an eyebrow. “You’re stalling, Alex.” The Irish lilt in her voice lent the derisive statement a musical quality.
Right. His lips twitched. Erin was an alpha precognitive, and her track record was flawless. She would know, of course. “Please, sit anyway. Can we talk about this?”
With an impatient gesture, she shook her auburn hair back from her face before leaning over his desk and intruding into his personal space. “What’s to discuss? You’ll need her before the year is out.”
“You know we don’t accept alpha mutants as enforcers without clearing all the administrative hurdles—psychological evaluations, security clearances, the whole shebang.” He waved a hand at the computer terminal. “It’s March. It’ll take twelve months to get the paperwork done.”
“You’ll need her before the end of the year.”
“And that’s assuming she qualifies—”
“Before the end of the year, Alex.”
“And assuming she’d even want to join the enforcers.”
Erin tilted her head. Her green eyes gleamed. “I hope you’re persuasive, then.”
Alex shook his head. “You’re going to have to give me something to stand on. I need to know more about this battle you’re talking about. When, where, against whom—”
“I have no other information for you. You know my visions are rarely detailed, but I have never been wrong.”
“And you saw her at this battle?”
Erin hesitated for a moment before taking her seat. She smoothed her hunter green dress and crossed her legs. “No, I didn’t.”
“Erin—”
“It’s…hard to explain. She’s not visible, but her presence is palpable. You cannot win this fight without her.”
“And what are the consequences of losing it?”
Erin smiled faintly. “It is not a fight you can afford to lose.”
Alex sighed again. He leaned forward and swiped his finger across the dark screen of his network terminal. It flashed and brought up her records. He studied them once more, and arrived at the same conclusion. “She’s not enforcer material.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He glared at Erin. “It does matter. Enforcers are entrusted with the burden of policing rogue mutants. We need people who aren’t lawbreakers themselves.”
“What law has she broken?”
“Oh, where do I start? Mental coercion, resulting in unlawful possession of highly valuable articles, including jewelry, sports cars, apartments—”
Erin shrugged. “Unlawful? Isn’t that rather excessive, Alex? I’m sure she did not receive anything the giver wasn’t delighted to give her.”
Alex went on as if he had not heard. “Unlawful entry—”
“Come now. Sneaking onto college campuses and sitting in classes is hardly a criminal offense. It’s not as if she used her telepathic powers to pick the exam answers out of the professors’ heads.”
“Which brings us to the issue of insider trading.”
“Technically, it’s not insider trading.”
“She stole the information out of someone else’s head and used it to make it big on the stock market.”
Erin smiled. “And far more reliably than most precognitives who dabble in the stock market. If she’s in as much trouble as you say, why haven’t you brought her in?”
“We have other things on our plate.”
The young woman’s smile widened. “That’s because, in the grand scheme of things, she’s not even a public nuisance, let alone a civil or criminal threat. Come on, Alex. Her talents or her track record isn’t an issue. We both know your biggest problem will be convincing her to leave her high-flying, carefree life to join the stodgy ranks of enforcers.”
Alex might have bristled at the insult if it were not true. He waved a hand, dismissing Erin. “I’ll think about it.”
“As you wish. Just keep in mind that you’re running out of time.” She rose gracefully and walked to the door. Pausing at the threshold, she threw a glance over her shoulder. “Oh, Alex, I did forget to mention something about the pivotal battle in my visions. I did see one face, just one face that I recognized.”
Alex’s eyebrows drew together. “Who?”
“Danyael Sabre.”
Alex paled.
Erin turned her back on him and walked away, closing the door behind her.
Damn it. Alex’s hands clenched into fists. His gaze drifted to the window, but he saw nothing of the view beyond the glass. Danyael Sabre—an alpha empath who could heal or kill with a touch—was a walking train wreck, the shattered pieces of his emotional psyche held together by little more than willpower and contained within exquisitely built psychic shields.
If Danyael’s façade of control cracked, if his psychic shields collapsed, the fallout would be mass suicide, the emotional equivalent of a nuclear bomb.
Alex could not afford to let that happen. The tenuous, hard-won respect that mutants received in a world transformed by the Genetic Revolution would not survive Danyael’s emotional breakdown.
What could he do?
Imprison Danyael in a windowless cell for the rest of his life, his deadly empathic powers contained within four walls?
Alex refused to believe it was his only option. He both liked and trusted Danyael. Preemptive imprisonment was an injustice to the alpha empath who had spent years of his life carving out a semblance of normality for himself. Danyael was a model citizen. A doctor by training, his skill was desperately needed by the residents of Brooklyn, New York, where he worked in a government-sponsored free clinic. Furthermore, Danyael always played by the restrictive rules imposed on alpha mutants; he had never balked at the “big brother” oversight of the Mutant Affairs Council.
So far.
It left Alex Saunders, director general of the Mutant Affairs Council, only one choice whether he intended to save Danyael, or save the world from Danyael.
He returned his attention to the profile of the woman on his screen. A bitter half-smile twisted his lips. “Welcome to the ranks of the enforcers, Miriya Templeton.”
Whether you want to or not.
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