Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

up, Brett."
    "You did say I could help myself to a drink," Brett protested, rising slowly and very unwillingly to his feet. There was a look in Finn's eyes that he didn't like at all. "You heard him say I could have a drink, didn't you, Rose?"
    "Shut up, Brett. You stand up too, Rose," said Finn.
    The Wild Rose was up and on her feet in one casual lithe movement. Anywhen else Brett might have applauded. Her crimson leathers squeaked softly, pulling tight across her impressive chest. Brett tried hard not to look at her breasts. Finn advanced on him, and Brett automatically looked around for the nearest exit. The Durandal clearly had something in mind, and Brett just knew that when he found out what it was, he wasn't going to like it at all. Finn nodded casually to Rose.
    "Hold Brett securely, Rose, but don't hurt him."
    Brett's hand was already diving for the dagger up his sleeve when Rose's arm swept around him from behind, pinning his arms to his sides, and crushing the breath from his lungs. He struggled anyway, kicking back at her legs, and even jerking his head back at where Rose's face should have been, but she held him as easily as a child, her arms like steel bars. Finn advanced unhurriedly on Brett, and something in Finn's smile put a whole new chill in Brett's heart. Finn stopped right in front of Brett and regarded him solemnly for a moment, like a scientist with an interesting new lab rat. Brett made a small whimpering sound.
    "Relax, Brett," Finn said easily. "I'm not going to kill you. I wouldn't do that; not while you can still be useful to me. And there's the problem, you see. I really think I've had the best of you, when it comes to rooting out useful contacts for me in the Rookery. I've got everyone I need now. Which means your usefulness is unfortunately at an end. But I can't just let you go. You'd talk. Your kind always talks, eventually. So if I'm to keep you with me, I have to make some other use for you. And that's where the esper drug comes in. I can see all sorts of uses for my own personal telepath. And as you quite rightly pointed out, I'm not stupid enough to take the drug myself. So; open wide, swallow properly, and afterwards you can have a nice sweetie."
    "You're crazy!" said Brett, his voice little more than a whisper. "I'm not taking that stuff!"
    "You don't have to worry; I've tested it. The dose is one hundred percent pure."
    "It kills people! Or drives them crazy!"
    "Well, yes, there is that possibility. But if you don't take it, I will quite definitely have Rose kill you, right here and now."
    He reached out suddenly and grabbed Brett by the right ear, twisting it cruelly. Brett's mouth opened automatically at the pain, and Finn fed him the contents of the test tube in his other hand. He then held Brett's mouth closed until he had to swallow, and nodded to Rose to release him. She let go immediately and stepped back, and she and Finn watched interestedly as Brett sank to his knees, coughing and spluttering, his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. His face was already deathly pale, with beads of sweat popping out on his forehead. His whole body began to shake and shudder, as though a great engine had been switched on inside him. His eyes clenched shut, and he let out a great groan, a sound far
    too loud for such a small man.
    For Brett, it was as though someone had turned up the volume level all over the world. Voices crashed in on him from all sides, as though the whole city was shouting at him at once. Flashes of vision came and went, glimpses of people and places cutting in and out impossibly fast. Thoughts slammed back and forth inside his head, and only some of them were his. Sound and vision became hopelessly intertangled, more and more rushing in until he thought his skull would explode from trying to contain them all. He'd fallen over onto his side, though he didn't know it, and curled into a fetal ball. His eyes were very wide, full of all the spectacle of the world, and his head was full of sound and fury, drowning out his own small thoughts. Esp had let all the world in at once, and he had no defenses against it.
    In the end, it was the stomach cramps that saved him. The nagging familiar pains were still sharp enough to penetrate even the frenzy raging inside his head, and it was the one thing he could cling to, the one thing he knew was his, and his alone. He concentrated on the pain, hugging it jealously to him, using it as kernel he could rebuild himself around,