Freaks of Nature (The Psion Chronicles)

by Wendy Brotherlin

  Nevada was correct, of course. There really was no other choice. However, there remained plenty of room for negotiation with Bai Lee.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to escape, or that I think Bai Lee’s a second-rate telepath,” Devon said, shaking his head in exasperation. “It’s the wager that bothers me.”

  Bai Lee’s glare turned murderous. “So, you’re saying you don’t want to participate?”

  “I’m asking you for assurance that you can get all of us out of here, not just one or two of us. If we all tell you our stories, and we all wow you with our—I don’t know—our pathetic little lives, then we can all go with you. We don’t leave anyone behind.”

  “You want me to put my neck on the line for all of you?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do,” Devon said with a conviction that had his heart pounding in his chest like a bass drum. Speaking up felt good. He felt alive. He was tired of being left behind and shoved aside because he gave a damn. It was time that he stood up for himself—for everyone here—knowing full well that no one else in this mental paradise would have returned the favor. Screw ’em! He wanted to see his family. And he knew that he would never be able to look his father in the eyes again if he didn’t stand up for what was right. “Because if you can free one or two of us, you can free us all.”

  “You sound so sure of yourself.”

  “That’s because I am.” His heart was banging against his ribcage, threatening to burst through. Acting cool was seriously strenuous, like chewing nails in an effort to spit bullets.

  Bai Lee looked skeptical. “I can see that.”

  “So…all or nothing?” Devon ventured. He had no idea what the hell he was doing.

  Bai Lee paused, her eyes locking onto his. “What if I hate every one of you?”

  “You won’t,” he assured her, steeling his gaze.

  “And you know this because…”

  Devon glanced over at Alya. She was watching him. Her lips turned up in a tiny, hopeful smile. And he knew instantly that what he was doing, he was doing in large part for her; in the state she was in, he knew that she would surely be left behind. Just like he would have been left behind back at North Central without Colton’s intervention.

  “Because I give a damn,” Devon said. “It’s a curse, I know. But this is the way I choose to live.”

  Bai Lee raised her delicately arched eyebrows in surprise at Devon’s response. For the first time, Devon saw her cool, controlled façade slip aside to reveal a mixture of hope and fear. They were all trapped within the same sinking vessel. In order to survive, they would have to find a way to work together.

  “There are spies,” Bai Lee said softly. “Even among our own kind. It’s not safe to blindly trust.”

  Devon reached out and took Bai Lee’s hand. He held it gently between his own and gave her his best encouraging smile. “My father used to say that he’d never judge another unless he’d walked a long, hard mile in that person’s shoes. And I like to think that’s sound advice. Especially when it comes to our own kind. I mean, haven’t the baselines judged us and found us all guilty of, well, just about everything you can imagine?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Nevada cried. “I’m called a bank robber every time I use the ATM, a jaywalker when I cross the street, and a slut whenever I’m photographed with a member of the opposite sex, regardless if I’m related to ’em or not.” She tried in vain to look the victim, but it was futile. She barked out a laugh. “Okay, I’m a slut. So shoot me.”

  “Like the paparazzi?” Alek quipped with a grin. “In high-definition?”

  “You better believe it,” Nevada replied playfully. “I don’t expect anything less than the best from the tabloids.”

  “Then it’s agreed,” said Bai Lee, pulling her hand free from Devon’s grasp. “You will each allow me to replay your memories, so that we can see firsthand what makes you tick. If I’m satisfied with the whole stupid lot of you, we make a break for it…together.” Bai Lee’s sharp gaze was leveled at the entire group. “That acceptable?”

  “Hell, yeah!” Nevada shouted, high-fiving Miguel. “Bring on storytime!”

  Devon looked around at the six people standing before him. They were beaming with excitement and—dare he even think it?—hope. Yet despite the inclusive spirit that permeated the air, Devon could feel fear gnawing at his guts. He knew that everything was bound to change once Plant Boy was revealed.

  He was, after all, loser incarnate.

  “Devon?” said Alya, with a hopeful smile. “You’re with us…right?”

  He returned her smile and stepped closer to her. “Yeah, I’m with you.” Devon reached out to take her hand, but Alek yanked her out of reach.

  “Hands off my sister,” he hissed.

  Devon could take a hint. But he didn’t have to like it. He settled for standing next to Alya. Despite the fact that this was all an illusion, he could feel her body heat and smell the sweet scent of her hair. He was as close to her as he could be without touching, and that was probably for the best, because no matter how long he put it off, sooner or later, they would all come to know what a lame-ass excuse of a psion he was.

  Alya included.

  He just hoped that somehow he could find a way to convince them not to leave him behind.

  Chapter Five

  “ALL right, kiddies,” Bai Lee said, with a clap of her hands. “Let’s get to it. Who’s going first?”

  No one said a word, and Devon could see in his peripheral vision that he was by no means the only one to stare hard at the ground and wish himself invisible. Heck, it was just like being back in Mr. Wrenforth’s speech class at North Central all over again—that terrible sensation of dread that sat in his belly like a hundred pounds of quick-drying cement, because he knew that, no matter how well prepared he was, Mr. Wrenforth would be sure to make him look like a complete idiot in front of his peers.

  There was no way he was going to willingly subject himself to ridicule now. Especially if he could avoid it.

  Devon chanced a glance over at Bai Lee, and saw that she was glaring at all of them with disapproval. “Oh, come on,” she chided. “I’ll make you draw straws if I have to.”

  That hundred pounds of cement dropped down Devon’s legs and into his toes. He had horrible luck. If he was forced to draw straws, he knew for certain that he’d pull the shortest one. Then he’d have no chance whatsoever of getting around his wimpy psionic ability. Devon was a weak link, and a liar besides. They’d be certain to leave him behind.

  There was a shuffling of feet behind Devon as Vahn de Montague stepped forward. “I’ll go first,” he said. “There’s no use waiting; we’ll only be that much closer to DC. And once I’m there, I’m pretty much a dead man.”

  “You can’t be sure of that,” Nevada said.

  “Yes, I can.” Vahn ran his hand through his thick hair, frowning. “I killed two men.”

  “Oh.” Nevada said, and Devon could see the sadness in her eyes. If Vahn had killed two baselines, then he was indeed a dead man. He probably wouldn’t even get a trial.

  “It wasn’t by choice,” Vahn said as if in explanation. “Things just got…crazy.” He looked down at his scarred fists and stared hard at his knuckles. “Let’s get this over with. What do I have to do?”

  Bai Lee took Vahn by the crook of the elbow and led him toward the gigantic weeping willow that overlooked the pool at the base of the waterfall. As they approached the great canopy provided by the willow’s lithe, descending branches, the earth at the base of the tree began to tremble and a tiny shoot appeared.

  “Whoa,” Devon said, intrigued. It was the first time that he hadn’t been responsible for a tree’s sudden sprouting. But, then again, this wasn’t a real tree. A real willow would have spoken to him or graced him with a song, but Bai Lee couldn’t have known that. Not many people did. Outside of his family, Devon spoke very little about his psionic ability—not that anybody cared. Not many people gave a crap about a plant’s opinion.


  Devon trailed after Bai Lee and Vahn, all the while marveling at the shoot’s rapidly expanding form. It appeared to have a will of its own as it twisted and stretched into a long, low bench that resembled something akin to a wooden psychiatrist’s couch.

  Stepping beneath the willow’s canopy, Devon heard Bai Lee instruct Vahn to lie down. “Try to relax,” she said, assisting him onto the wooden lounge.

  Vahn grunted in reply and laid his head back against the expanding headrest, where leaves had sprouted from thin, decorative branches to create a soft pallet.

  “Gently, now,” Alya instructed Bai Lee while clinging to her brother’s side.

  Vahn gave the healer a tiny grin that ignited a bitter flame deep inside Devon’s chest. Was the psi-blade hitting on her?

  “Believe it or not,” Vahn said, “it’s more comfortable than it looks.”

  Alya tried her best to return his smile, but the effort appeared to be too much for her. Instead, she reached out her hand toward Vahn, only to have her brother pull her back.

  “What are you doing?” Alek asked, holding her upright with both arms.

  “I must get closer,” she said softly. “He mustn’t be alone.”

  “Alya, don’t do this.” Alek was doing his best to appear stern and in control, but Devon could hear the panic in his voice. “You’re too weak.”

  “Please—” she begged.

  “Allow me,” Devon said, wrapping his arm around Alya’s shoulders. “You both must be exhausted.”

  The look he got from Alek was murderous, but Devon knew better than to stand around and get himself punched in the face. Alya shifted her weight toward Devon as he gently led her away from her twin. With Alya resting comfortably against him, he guided her toward Vahn. “Why don’t I take you closer?” he said softly to Alya. “You can hold Vahn’s hand if you’d like.”

  “No!” Alek cried. “She must sit and rest! She’s mentally and physically exhausted from her last healing session with that guy Vladimir—”

  “Viktor,” Alya corrected. “His name is Viktor.”

  “Well, Viktor and his disease have exhausted you. You’re too weak to stand through Vahn’s replay, mental projection or not. If you pass out, chances are you’ll break your connection with Bai Lee and expose us all to the feds!” He stood only inches away, shadowing them like an angry wolf whose dinner had just been stolen.

  “Okay, fine,” Devon replied with a shrug. He couldn’t believe how light Alya felt, nor how lovely she looked despite her illness. “No standing, then, which probably means no hand-holding, either. But I’ll set you up as close as I can.” He flashed Alya a devious grin. “Can you handle that?”

  Alya managed a wan smile in return. “Yes…yes, I can.”

  Devon’s heart soared to see such a lovely smile, but he worked hard to keep his cool. He was Plant Boy, after all, and bound to mess up eventually.

  When Devon reached the wooden lounge, he helped Alya sit down on the soft grass so that she could make eye contact with Vahn. When Devon attempted to leave, he was surprised to find that Alya still clung to him.

  “Don’t go,” she said. “Please. Stay with me.”

  Whoa. A hot chick had never said that to Devon before.

  “S-sure,” he replied, his heart thumping so hard that he knew everyone around him was bound to hear it.

  Alya made a motion for Devon to sit behind her so that she might lie back against him. He had no sooner sat down than there was a flurry of movement to his right. It was Alek, and he was set on overprotective-brother mode. He glared outright at Devon, his hands balled into fists, just waiting for a reason to clean Devon’s clock. But Devon had had his share of bullying; he knew better than to mess with a pissed-off sibling. Averting his gaze, Devon ignored Alek. At times like this, denial was a means of survival.

  “This seat taken?” Nevada asked as she plopped herself down on Devon’s left.

  “No, not at all,” he replied, a bit dumbfounded. Devon wasn’t used to being the center of attention—especially when it came to hot girls. Though he could definitely get used to it.

  “Good.” Nevada turned and signaled to Miguel. “Get your butt over here, Miggy-boy. It’s no fun way back in the cheap seats.”

  Devon turned and watched Miguel cautiously sit down cross-legged beside Nevada. The way the kid kept watching Nevada out of the corner of his eye, Devon got the sense that Miguel was a bit dubious of her intentions.

  “You idiots ready?” Bai Lee asked from her perch on the edge of Vahn’s wooden lounge.

  Devon frowned. “Don’t call us idiots.”

  “Then don’t make me wait forever like a group of gawking five-year-olds,” Bai Lee huffed. “I’ve got to concentrate—so give me a minute.” She closed her eyes and sat very still, becoming all Zen-like.

  Nevada made a sound in her throat. Devon glanced over in time to catch her flipping Bai Lee off with both hands while mouthing the word bitch as if she were screaming it.

  It wasn’t the most mature response, but it sure made Devon feel better. It truly sucked being ordered around all the time.

  Bai Lee didn’t appear to notice Nevada’s obscene gestures, as she sat still as a yogi lost in meditation. When next she moved, it was to take Vahn’s hand.

  “Vahn,” she said. “When you’re ready, simply close your eyes and open your mind. I’ll do the rest.” The tone of Bai Lee’s voice was lower, and her words were thick and smoky. The calm her voice held was both reassuring and relaxing, and Devon felt his fear evaporating with his every exhale.

  “She’s hypnotizing us,” Devon whispered, and Alya gave him the slightest of nods.

  Vahn kept his gaze locked on Bai Lee while he settled his bulk into the contours of the exotic chair, which continued to weave and move around his body. The way the tree held him reminded Devon of a mother cradling an infant.

  Bai Lee released Vahn’s hand and sat up straighter, the sleeves of her robes gathering on the ground in tranquil pools of silk. “Before we begin,” she said to Vahn, “is there anything you’d like to tell us first?”

  Vahn blinked at her for several seconds, perhaps a bit stunned by her softly spoken question. He turned his head slightly to address Devon and Alya and the rest of their motley group sitting in silence before him.

  “I’m a soldier, just so you know.”

  “Yeah, we kind of guessed that,” said Devon with a grin, and he was surprised when Vahn smiled in return and nodded, acknowledging the humor behind his obvious statement.

  “Then I guess you’ve also noticed that I’m not the subtle type,” he said.

  “And you sure as hell don’t talk much, either,” interjected Nevada with a salacious grin. “You’re the strong, silent, sexy type if you ask me. I’d rock your world any damn day of the week!”

  Vahn frowned and turned away from them. Lying flat on his back, he focused his gaze on the tree branches overhead, his jaw muscles twitching with turbulent emotion. He was through talking.

  “Nevada,” Bai Lee growled. “Not cool.”

  “What?” The windwalker shrugged. “I didn’t mean anything by it. What I meant to say was—Oh, come on! He’s gorgeous. All you have to do is look at him.”

  “Shut up, Alison!” Bai Lee was glaring at her full bore. “This is Vahn’s time to speak.”

  Nevada grumbled something under her breath, but she kept her gaze glued to the ground, while Vahn remained staring into the stratosphere.

  Great. Now two people had been shamed into silence.

  Alya shifted her weight in Devon’s arms and extended a delicate hand toward Vahn. “Please continue, Vahn. How long have you been in training?”

  Keeping his gaze locked skyward, Vahn answered. “Since I was three. Up in Alaska—I was being trained for the government’s Psionic Special Forces.” Vahn paused, his hands curled into fists.

  “What happened?” Alya gently prodded. “Did they hurt you?”

  Vahn shook his head. “No. Not me… Emily.
They took Emily away. And I knew that I had to find her.”

  “Emily. She was your girlfriend?” Alya’s voice quivered.

  Vahn turned his head toward her and nodded. “We grew up in the facility together.” A sad smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “I loved her from the very first moment I laid eyes on her…and my superiors knew it, too.” Vahn paused and licked his lips, his gaze hardening. “Emily was a low-powered clairvoyant until they started pumping her full of chemicals to enhance her ability. Her visions became so vivid, so real, that she had no idea if she was awake or asleep. All I could do was hold her for as long as they would let me while she sobbed uncontrollably in my arms.

  “And then one day, she was gone. Her room was cleared out. Not a trace that she had ever been there.”

  “Where did they take her?” Alya’s voice was hardly more than a whisper as she wrapped Devon’s arms tighter around her. Her eyes were half-closed from sheer exhaustion.

  “I don’t know,” Vahn replied, his frown lines deepening. “That’s why I’m here. I escaped so that I could make contact with the Psionic Underground. They’re the only ones who can help me find her.

  “And I will find her, or die trying…God help me.”

  Vahn lay quietly for a moment, a faraway look in his eyes, and Devon wondered if the psi-blade was thinking about Emily. Clairvoyants, also known as seers, were prized psi-talents for their ability to accurately predict the future. Devon’s abilities paled in comparison to someone like Emily. Yet it was the fact that his psi-talent was so lame that had made it possible for him to live almost fourteen years with his family in Springfield, Illinois before he was removed. Had he been a seer like Emily or a healer like Alya, the government would have forced his parents to give him up when he was a toddler. It saddened him to think of all the psi-talents out there who had grown up without knowing their families.

  Bai Lee shifted her weight on the bench beside Vahn and her silk robes rustled, snapping the psi-blade from his thoughts. He blinked his eyes a few times before finding a comfortable position for his head on the pallet of soft leaves.

  “Let’s do this,” Vahn said, and then closed his eyes.