Psy & Changelings 01 - Slave to Sensation

name wasn’t merely a name—it was a designation. “May I ask you a question?” she said before she could talk herself out of it. Notwithstanding her awareness of his nature, her interest in him continued to heighten. And each time she gave in to the need, it created another chip in the already fragile wall of her sanity. Yet, she couldn’t stop herself.
    He paused in front of the door that likely led to the construction supervisor’s workspace. “Ask.”
    â€œWhat does a Hunter do?” She’d heard rumors on the PsyNet but changelings were very closemouthed about some things.
    â€œI’m afraid you’re going to have to barter something special to get that information.”
    The slow curve of his smile shot her composure to pieces. “What would you like to know?”
    He answered almost on top of her words. “What’s the incidence of violence in the Psy population?”
    She hadn’t expected the question but the answer was easy and well known. “Close to zero.”
    â€œAre you sure?” The question echoed in the air. “As for what Hunters do, we hunt down rogues.”
    â€œRogues?”
    â€œSorry, darling. You only paid for one answer.” He pushed open the door.
    Frustrated, she walked in and found herself standing a heartbeat away from a dark-skinned man with eyes a deeper shade of green than Lucas’s. Something about him made her want to take a step back . . . and run.
    â€œMeet Clay Bennett, our construction supervisor.”
    Sascha knew the changeling in front of her was much more than that. “Mr. Bennett.” The man’s eyes were so calm that she should’ve felt at home with him. Instead he reminded her of a cobra lulling his prey into a false sense of security—the second she lowered her guard, he’d instigate a deadly strike.
    â€œMs. Duncan. I’m the man you come to if you have any problems with the materials used during construction, the workers, anything like that.”
    â€œI’ve noted that.” She looked around the huge office space, which housed a number of desks. Glass doors made up the facing wall but she could see Zara to the left and an unknown blond male at a desk to the right. He wasn’t looking at her, but somehow she knew that he was completely attuned to their conversation. “Do those doors open?”
    â€œOf course,” Lucas drawled. “We’re animals under the skin—we can’t stand being caged.” She knew he was mocking the simplistic Psy view of changelings, mocking her. The urge to give back as good as she got was a devil on her shoulder—a mad part of her thought it might almost be worth it simply to see the look on his face.
    â€œWhat about the higher floors?” She answered her own question the second she looked outside. “The trees. Leopards are excellent climbers.”
    Lucas went unnaturally still beside her. “You’ve done your research.”
    â€œOf course. I’m Psy.”
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    A few minutes later, Sascha closed the door of the lavatory, put down the lid, and sat. Her whole body shuddered. What a joke. She was no Psy. She was a woman close to the edge of insanity, reduced to hiding in toilets in order to repair the fractured walls of her mind.
    Her organizer chimed before she’d done more than gather together the ragged edges of her psyche. It was Santano Enrique, requesting a conference on the PsyNet. The inside of her mouth suddenly felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton wool.
    Enrique was too powerful a Psy, had had too many years of experience at spotting mistakes. She didn’t want him connected to her in any way. None of the other Councilors had ever approached her telepathically or on the PsyNet—they preferred to talk face-to-face if necessary. She knew why, of course. They weren’t sure that she hadn’t inherited her mother’s deadly little ability.
    Refusing Enrique’s call wasn’t an option. Hurriedly completing the repairs on her shields, she closed her eyes and took a step into darkness. The glittering plane of the PsyNet opened before her, filled with the endless stars, bright and faded, large and small, that represented the minds of the Psy. Enrique blazed and so did she. They were both cardinals. The crucial difference was, she had no real power, while he could pulverize her with a thought.
    His consciousness was waiting for her.