Why Me?

by Treva Harte

  *I don't know much about you at all.*

  *Wrong. You know an amazing amount. But what do you need to know?*

  *Oh, no. You're too tricky. You tell me what I should find out about you.*

  *Very well, Cassie. I was brought up to be a con man by a con man. We never stayed anywhere long enough to have a routine. When I got old enough for Da to see I didn't want to follow him and help out with all his little games, he sold me.*

  Cassie jerked back in surprise. No, he wasn't kidding. She could see that. Without further thought, she moved forward and held him tightly. This wasn't sexual. Wynn needed a hug.

  He stayed in her arms a moment, then shifted away.

  *Tell me, Wynn.*

  Cassie knew Wynn didn't want to go on but she waited. She could feel Wynn picking his words carefully before he finally spoke again.

  "Da and I never got along once my mother was...gone. I realized things about him I didn't want to know. And he realized I was never going to be what he wanted. We argued. As I got older we argued more. Bloody hell. We didn't argue. That sounds civilized. We fought each other, any and every way we could. And then one day, a few years later, he dumped me off at the Institute. He'd had enough of me."

  "You mother left you to face all that?" Cassie wanted to bite her tongue out once she said it.

  Wynn shook his head, but almost as if she'd hit him rather than to merely indicate no.

  "She didn't leave me. I won't believe that. Never. Something went wrong. I don't know what. But after she did—things got confusing. I don't remember it all. I suppose I don't want to remember it all."

  And she could feel the old fear and confusion and outrage of a dark-haired boy, big for his age, but still a young boy. And she knew he wasn't going to tell her more about that. His mother must be even a more painful subject than his father.

  But, to her surprise, she could hear his thoughts continue the conversation.

  *Technically, I suppose you could say Da gave up his guardianship of me to further science. But what he actually did was sell me when I was thirteen, anxious to strike out on my own, and about to be of no further use to him. I was bought by a bunch of shrinks and doctors and academics so they could poke into my brain and try to figure out my gift.*

  "I don't understand."

  "Have you ever heard of the Mintzer Institute?"

  Cassie frowned. She had. Where had she?

  "If I did, I don't remember."

  "It was in England. They studied the paranormal. That's me. I was a science experiment. Until I got myself out."

  Now Cassie had a sudden vision of a desperate, dark-haired teenager hurling himself out of an upstairs window. She saw him falling down, wondering what would break when he hit earth. Even worse, she felt the underlying despair. He didn't much care if it was his neck, as long as he got away.

  Her breath caught. My God. Poor Wynn.

  "I'm sorry." Cassie didn't know what more to say. Maybe she'd already said enough.

  No matter how miserable she felt with her family, no one had ever done anything remotely that bad to her. She doubted it would have ever occurred to anyone in her family to sell her off into—into something horrible—when she became inconvenient. Of course no one would have wanted to buy her, either.

  "So am I. It's a lousy seduction line." Wynn suddenly gave his charming smile and bent his head to her. "Let me try for something better."

  Cassie wanted to protest, to tell him he didn't have to change the painful subject. Then Wynn's tongue flickered, just slightly, over her lips and she forgot why she wanted to do—whatever it was she had wanted to do before.

  "Oh." She breathed it out as she opened her lips.

  That had been sweet. She liked that. She knew the kisses wouldn't stay sweet. She liked that, too.

  Wynn slid his hands up under her shirt, just lightly reaching up. Cassie gripped his shoulders hard. Suddenly she knew she'd never had an experience close to this—how could she? She'd never been with someone where his mind and body were able to link with hers the way she and Wynn...

  Her inconvenient memory kicked in again, right before her mind completely hazed over.

  "I know where I heard of Mintzer Institute!" Cassie jerked her breast away from his lips.

  "God, my seduction technique must really be lousy." Wynn's smile wasn't quite as charming and sincere as before. "Listen, Cassie—"

  Cassie wasn't concerned with hurt feelings right at that moment. She gripped his shoulders again, but this time to shake them for emphasis.

  "The shrink. The shrink I went to see. I told her I needed to talk about Lida. Dr. Blessingham. What kind of bad luck do I have? Of all the shrinks in the world, I went to see someone who said she had worked at the Mintzer Institute. I suppose it makes sense. I was worried about voices in my head. And that's what she studied there. With people like you."

  Wynn's face didn't look seductive any more. It looked a little frightening instead with his eyes narrowed and the fierce clench around his jaw.

  "Then he'll know. Emmanuel must know who I am by now. And he knows you're around. He'll soon know where you live."

  "Aren't you jumping to conclusions?" Cassie had to ask, even though she was getting a sick feeling in her stomach. "You act like this guy is all-powerful. Do you know Emmanuel? Like you've seen him?"

  "Yeah, I met Emmanuel. Once. Emmanuel's a smart man. We didn't see much of each other much at the Institute—whatever experiments they were running required us to be kept separate—but he had the gift. I never knew which one of us was the better. But I'm good. Bloody good. He must be at least my equal. He'll make it his business to figure this out."

  Wynn stood up and began to push his wallet back into his pocket.

  "Come on then. We need to do a bit more traveling before it gets completely dark."

  "We have to leave?"

  "I'd feel better with a few more miles between us and D.C., yes. I can feel-I can feel danger nearby. I know I can communicate with people better in my mind the closer that I am to them. I have to believe Emmanuel can do the same."

  "But, Wynn!" Cassie couldn't believe he could just stop.

  His smile looked regretful but she knew he wasn't going to change his mind.

  No seduction scene then. Damn her memory. Maybe he wasn't that interested after all.

  Then Cassie looked further down than his smile. Oh. That was a large bulge he was displaying. Very large.

  Well, maybe Wynn's self-control wasn't the only thing he had that was made of iron. His discomfort made her feel much better.

  "Cassie."

  "Yes?"

  "Should you hear any other voice—no matter if you aren't sure if you have or not, you'll tell me? I'm not sure the extent of Emmanuel's powers or what he's best at, but I have to assume he can do what I can do. He must be good at making people do what he thinks them to do. Hell. He must be damn good at that."

  *Maybe better than I am, Cassie. And he's definitely more experienced than you at using his gift.*

  "Oh." Cassie imagined her mind being invaded by a crazy man who thought he was God. Oh, boy. That could be...absolutely terrifying. Things had been bad enough when it was Wynn.

  "Cassie."

  "I'll tell you if I feel that happening to me, too. Or—or if it looks like it may be happening to you."

  She did not want to think about the possibilities. Instead Cassie picked up her small suitcase and led Wynn out the door. She was beginning to want a few more miles between her and this Emmanuel herself.

  Wynn watched her leave. Good. She understood they were in danger. He had been afraid she might not want to believe him. But she had.

  The sudden fear that knotted his stomach wasn't for him. He was terrified for her. She had no idea what she might be in for if Emmanuel started to play mind games with her. He'd gotten her into this. Stupidly he thought she could be safe from what was going on.

  No, he'd started by not thinking about her at all other than a means to an end. S
he wasn't that. She was Cassie.

  Cassie, who had let him into her mind and her home and had done what he asked even when he told her it was dangerous. Other people did what he wanted but because he used his gift without them knowing or because he traded his gift for something they could give him in return.

  Cassie'd done none of that. He couldn't think of anyone who had ever trusted him that much without any real reason at all. He didn't intend to abuse that trust. He was used to taking care of himself. Now he had to see she was cared for, too.

  She was tiny. It was ridiculous to forget that when he loomed over her all the time, but she didn't act tiny. Half the time she acted like she could kick life in the butt and make everything do what she wanted. The other half she acted like she didn't know or care what real life was about and didn't need to.

  He was starting to like both her attitudes.

  But even though she didn't seem to realize it, even though he knew she had to do hard physical work while cleaning houses, she was fragile.

  Wynn thought of her small bones. He had managed to feel how little she actually weighed not too long ago on that bed.

  He thought about the sometimes frightened look in her eyes, even when she was toughing things out. He swallowed hard. He didn't ever want her to realize how easily hurt she could be. Wynn didn't want to imagine a Cassie who knew she could be defeated or beaten.

  * * * * *

  “I can’t wait.”

  “What?”

  Wynn stopped the car and Cassie blinked open sleepy eyes. Adrenaline surged through her body as he turned to her.

  “Is something wrong?” She asked.

  “Yes. Very wrong.”

  She opened her eyes completely.

  “I’m dying for you here, Cassie. To hell with finding a hotel.” This was Wynn? The man slid across the car seat to slide his hand over one breast. His other hand slid between her legs.

  There was no danger? He couldn’t mean—where were they anyhow?

  His fingers moved past her clothing and touched her clitoris and Cassie realized she didn’t care what he meant or where they were. Oh God. He probably knew he just needed to look at her and she would damn near come in her pants.

  He wasn’t just looking now. Cassie bit her lip to keep from panting. She was barely awake, she wasn’t ready, she –

  She let a small shriek as he pulled her legs apart and bent his head down. God, the way they were twisted together, she could feel his cock, hard against her back as he pulled her legs up over his shoulders. His tongue tickled her inner thigh, up high and close to where she needed him. Oh, she was ready all right.

  He probably knew she’d always wanted to try that in the dark, in a car, where they might be caught, except she’d die if they were caught, at least if they were caught before— His cock rubbed against her and she shivered. Damn, was that penis in the wrong spot.

  “Oh. My. God.” She gasped the words out when his tongue touched her swollen, wet pussy, rasped against a clit that needed no more stimulation. She lasted about two seconds before she began to twitch and shake with her first climax.

  Her first?

  *Don’t worry, Cassidy. There’s more where that came from.*

  Cassie moaned.

  “Cassie? What’s wrong?”

  She opened her eyes. It was dark. It was dark and they were in a car. Wynn was driving and she was safely buckled up in the passenger’s seat.

  “Are you OK?”

  She’d been dreaming. Cassie bit her lip in humiliation. She’d just been dreaming.

  “Never better. Sleepy.” She shut her eyes again and willed herself to go back to sleep. She listened to Wynn’s steady breathing, heard the sounds of the car. They were soothing sounds. But her body, well revved up and ready for more of what it had been promised, didn’t let her sleep for a long time.

  * * * * *

  *Do you know Emmanuel? Like you've seen him?*

  *Yeah, I met Emmanuel. Once.*

  He'd heard of him. He wasn't supposed to have—the personnel at the Institute had tried to keep anyone they were testing separated from the other subjects. That way no one could compare notes or work out a con on them. So they said. Wynn had always figured there was more. There always more to things than what they told him.

  Wynn had first realized someone was trying to tap into his mind within a month of staying at the Institute. At first he thought it was a test.

  The psychiatrists working with him had started with silly stuff-stuff he had known was designed to see if he was real or fake. Then what they asked him to do got increasingly more difficult. Sometimes he had no idea why they wanted him to do what they did. Sometimes the exercises they had him do seemed to make his powers stronger. They figured out what he couldn't do as well. He couldn't bend spoons or tell the future. But they never told him what was going on—at least out loud. But he got better and better at tapping into people's thoughts.

  And when he first felt someone entering his mind, he could tell when someone was trying to make him do things he didn't want to do.

  Still, when he felt a sudden inexplicable need to go to the Institute garden late one evening, Wynn's curiosity got the better of him. What did this message sender want?

  He'd worked at looking like a good kid so far—quiet, responsible, well-mannered. Wynn had figured that would get him further in this setting than any other attitude. In this case what the personnel thought he was like made it absurdly easy to pick the lock on his bedroom door and leave when it was lights out in the Institute dorms.

  The garden was darker than he'd expected. And deserted. As he waited, Wynn could feel something that felt a bit like terror inside him even though he tried to jeer it away with all the insolence a thirteen year old was capable of.

  "Hello."

  Wynn didn't want to jump. He almost succeeded but he could see—just barely—the person before him. That person had the trace of a smirk on his face. He'd known Wynn was afraid.

  "Hello yourself." Wynn had been curt, his pride damaged.

  The person who had summoned him, who'd made him start, wasn't much older than Wynn and not as tall. He was pretty much just a boy, like Wynn was.

  "I've been told about you. I hear you can almost do some of the things I do."

  "I wouldn't know. I'm new here."

  Suddenly, without warning, Wynn felt a sudden force he'd never felt before. He fell to his knees. The other person laughed, sounding a brief burst of joy.

  "You can kneel before me if you like. I can make you do anything."

  "You took me by surprise," Wynn said, defensively, then bit his lip.

  He'd had limited experience with people making him do things—mostly it was the other way around. Other than being summoned to the garden and now this humiliation, Wynn had never had to do anything he'd been mentally ordered to do.

  But he figured out quickly how to block the next command. A slight jolt of what seemed almost a faint electric shock went through him but he shielded himself. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't. But Wynn began to sweat.

  "Hide if you want. I can do whatever I want," the young man told him. "I did it to you already."

  "Because I wasn't prepared. It won't happen again." Wynn thought of picking himself up off the ground and decided it was safer to save his energy.

  "I like a challenge."

  And, just like that, the other person faded back into the shadows. Wynn, who was fairly good at that himself, couldn't help but be impressed.

  Afterwards Wynn had made it his business to find out more about his mysterious rival. He was an American, shipped over to the Institute at the Institute's expense because they were amazed by what he could do.

  While the people at the Institute weren't supposed to talk, that didn't mean Wynn couldn't enter the minds of at least some of them. He learned people weren't just impressed with his rival. He learned some were even afraid of him.

  The other telepath was true to his word. Wynn got used to feeling sudden
attempts at entering his mind. Wynn learned to how to block those attempts quickly.

  But he hated waking up from his dreams, shaking, feeling sick to his stomach, wondering if this time he had bowed before the other man and actually obeyed that further command to unbuckle his belt and strip...But he hadn't. Wynn woke up each time, reassuring himself that he hadn't been humbled quite that much. He had to keep telling himself that he never would.

  Wynn wasn't stupid. He knew there was something sick, something perverse, even more perverse than a need to embarrass him, in his opponent's desire to penetrate his brain and force him to do things Wynn had no wish to do. But Wynn managed to resist whatever power the other telepath had once they no longer were face to face. Sometimes he wasn't even sure how he managed to know and evade the commands.

  What he couldn't seem to do was enter his rival's mind. At least not that Wynn could ever tell. No one ever talked about an Institute candidate suddenly running around half-dressed or any of the other things Wynn had tried to make the other telepath do.

  Wynn assured himself that he was failing because he had too much to try to deal with. Between fighting off mental commands at night and the demands the Institute put on him during the day, Wynn knew he was reaching the end of his endurance.

  Things were at a stalemate between him and his opponent until the week before Wynn finally left.

  Wynn woke up that morning, feeling sick. He thought he'd had another bad dream, but his gut told him that what he remembered hearing was more than that. Someone had finally found a way to enter his mind again. Maybe that powerful someone had known how all along and had just been toying with him, waiting for the right time to strike.

  *I'm leaving, youngster. This place was all right for a while but I know what's going down and I'm out before it happens. Too bad for you. You'll never get out now. After my departure they'll watch you twice as carefully. It's not going to be fun. So long.*

  And, sure enough, it was just the way the younger Emmanuel had predicted. After the one telepath's hasty and unauthorized departure, the Institute had kept their one remaining telepath under close scrutiny.