Psy & Changelings 05 - Hostage to Pleasure
to take that bite out of some other time then.” Leaving her flustered but definitely not scared any longer, he walked to the balcony doors and gave Vaughn the signal to return. There was a momentary rush of noise from outside as the mated pair entered.
A few minutes later, Ashaya put the coffee on the low table in the center of the room and took a seat on the sofa that faced the balcony, while he leaned on its back. Faith took a seat on the opposite sofa, with Vaughn sprawled beside her.
“Aren’t you going to have some?” Faith asked when Ashaya didn’t pour herself any coffee.
Ashaya shook her head. “I’m not used to it and it tends to have a strong effect.”
“I understand.” Faith took two cups, passing one to her mate. “I’ve become addicted to the stuff but it’s far more potent than I initially realized.” Her words were friendly, but there was a jerkiness to her movements that gave away her unease.
“Whatever it is you’ve seen,” Ashaya said, her tone a fraction too calm, as if she was barely keeping herself together, “just tell me. I’d rather know than imagine.”
Faith’s hands shook as she put her near-full cup on the table. Vaughn, holding his in his left hand, curved his right arm around her waist. “I had a vision,” she began, “but it was one of those where it’s impossible to tell when the event might take place . . . or whether it might already have done so.”
“Backsight,” Ashaya said. “Someone in my extended family tree was born with a low-Gradient ability in that specialty.”
Dorian stared at the back of her neck, itching to touch her again, finish what he’d started in the kitchen. It went against every one of his instincts to fight the urge, but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate it. Not when she was trying to present such an unruffled facade. She was so damn good at it, it annoyed the leopard. The trapped creature inside of him didn’t like being ignored.
That was when Ashaya turned to meet his gaze. “Did you say something?”
Well, now, that was interesting. “No.”
Giving him a skeptical look, she returned her attention to Faith. “What did you see in this vision, or flash of backsight?”
“Ashaya, I’m going to be honest with you,” Faith said, and there was a steel to her tone that Dorian knew often surprised people. “From what you’ve done, what you’ve said, you appear to be a rebel. But people lie.”
“True.” Ashaya nodded. “I’m also still linked to the PsyNet. You shouldn’t tell me anything you wouldn’t want the Council to know.”
“Pretty certain they’ll get you.” Vaughn took a sip of coffee.
Ashaya shifted the tiniest fraction of an inch toward Dorian. “I’m an M-Psy,” she said. “No matter my classification on the Gradient, it’s primarily a nonaggressive ability.”
“Yes,” Faith agreed, then paused for several seconds. “As for secrets, someone on the Council most probably already knows, so even if anything leaks out . . .” An eloquent shrug. “How much do you know about the NetMind?”
“It keeps order in the Net,” Ashaya answered. “Makes it less chaotic, organizes things. Some people say it spies for the Council, while others think that’s anthropomorphizing. Everyone agrees it’s neosentient at best, and its age is a complete mystery.”
“It’s not alone,” Faith told Ashaya. “When Silence took root, it split the NetMind into two. One part is good, able to act with sentience. The other part, the entity I call the DarkMind, is made up of all the emotions the Silent have rejected, particularly the violent ones.”
“Because,” Ashaya murmured, “the violent, angry emotions are ones we’re conditioned most strongly against.”
Faith nodded. “When I defected, I was hunting a killer. He was tainted with a malignant darkness. That darkness is a marker of the DarkMind’s psychic control—it uses these already mentally unstable individuals to give itself a voice. It’s not only feeding off their evil, it’s effectively nurturing the worst serial killers on the planet.”
Ashaya didn’t seem shocked by Faith’s revelation. “Silence cuts us off from a fundamental aspect of our psyche. It makes complete sense that that would be echoed on the psychic plane.” Her back suddenly went ramrod straight. “My twin,” she said to Faith. “You saw the darkness wrapped around my twin.”
“I don’t know how I knew it wasn’t you,” Faith said, “but it’s
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