Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1

by Gayle Parness

  Johnny jumped down from the table, sitting across from Diane so he could speak directly to her. He took her hand, a compassionate gesture that surprised Mack, and completely dropped his rougher accent. "I'm sorry, but no. I won’t lie to you. When you agreed to follow us here and not return to the house, you basically signed your past away. You don't have to stay here with us, we’d never force you to do so, but you'll never be a troupe theta again."

  Diane buried her face against Dave's chest, clutching his shirt, her sobs the only sound in the room. Staci scooted over and rubbed Diane’s back, telling her it would be okay, that they were free now and she shouldn’t worry.

  Liz explained further, her voice much gentler than it had been the night before. "Try to understand. What we did wasn't only for Ingrid. Thetas are exterminated when they retire from a troupe. Your natural life span is around one hundred and fifty years. The Director cuts your life in half."

  “But we have no other skills. We'll end up on the street. We'll be taken." Diane wiped away another few tears with a tissue Dave had produced from a nearby box. “We’ll be separated.”

  Every theta had heard the horrifying stories of how master vamps, alpha wolves, and master sorcerers used thetas who’d been discarded from the institutes. Forcing a theta to project a fantasy was possible but difficult; however, the theta wouldn't last long in that state. Rebooting would be impossible and he or she would grow too weak to project. They’d be used for their blood or bodies, eventually let loose on the street and left to the mercies of the masses.

  Johnny leaned forward, speaking quietly. "You and Dave have investments and savings. You'll never want for anything important. If you don't choose to work with us, we'll drive you to a safe house outside the city. You'd pay a small amount for room and board, but you and Dave can stay there safely for as long as you need to. Or move on. We can help you wherever you decide to go. However, if you choose this option, you can never return.

  "If you choose to stay, there's work you can do for us, right here. We need teachers desperately. We don't even know if we have the gift of psycore or if we can learn to use it if we do." Johnny shrugged, looking a little despondent. "We've trained ourselves to fight with weapons and muscles, using our axis energy whenever we can. But because we're still weaker physically than most of our enemies, we desperately need to reach our top potential. I’m sure we’re nowhere near as strong as we could be.”

  Tom continued. "We morph easily and Johnny can force a change on someone else, but we can't morph into a different sex like you can. That would be a definite advantage when we're too far away to get to a safe house and need to hide out. Morphing is useful as a defensive strategy, but even Johnny's talent doesn't help us out in a fight."

  Gene spoke up. "Unless you force a change on your enemy, getting him killed by his own people." The three rebels looked at Gene as if they were seeing him for the first time. "If you'd forced Joseph Herron to look like Ingrid, his men would’ve thought it was her. It would’ve caused confusion among their people, which might have worked to our advantage. They might even have killed him, thinking she killed their boss."

  Mack laughed. "Shit. I think that might’ve worked." Gene beamed at Mack, glancing at Liz a moment later to ask another question. "Besides The Director's soldiers, who are you usually fighting?"

  "Street thugs. Lower-level wolves and sorcerers who travel the neighborhoods in packs or gangs. Sometimes a nest will grow restless and hit the streets looking for fresh blood—mostly from teenagers. See, no one knows we're thetas." She’d made a face, trying out the word on herself for the first time. "They think we're human when they see us, so the bullies and the gangs treat us like weaklings. When we turn the tables, we shock the shit outta them every time.” She smirked, obviously proud of the work she was doing.

  Tom had started to clear away dishes. He explained, “But we do get hurt and we don't heal like you do. That's a real problem for us, since we're out there fighting for our lives most days."

  Sam jumped up to help Tom, asking Johnny, "Aren't we born with faster healing abilities?" "Isn't it related to axis power?"

  "We heal faster than humans, but you guys heal like master vamps," Tom said.

  "I wonder why that is…" Gene was already pulling out his H-tab.

  “Where did you get that? You have to hand it over.” Liz had jumped down from her perch on the table, already up in Gene’s face with her hand out.

  “This is the top of the line, mega-secure, encoded version. I have contacts that have contacts.”

  "Tom will have to check it out.” She tried to snatch it away.

  “No. He won’t. I think Tom trusts me, right Tom?”

  “Uh, sure, but it’s impossible to get a secure connection here," Tom said, giving Gene’s H-tab a decidedly lustful gaze.

  “Either you follow our rules, or you leave.” Liz was fuming.

  “Liz…” Unlike his friend, Johnny seemed willing to wait to see what Gene was going to do.

  “I don’t think you’re going kick me out so fast, especially if I can do this.” Gene gave Liz a smug look, swiped his fingers across his tablet and… "Bingo."

  "What the hell? We never get good access." Tom peered over Gene's shoulder, his gaze intent.

  "The government has power you can pull up anywhere. I know all the codes." Gene explained. His eyebrows rose. “It says here that the fastest healing is tied into the mind. It’s like using Influence on your own body. Guess that’s the answer.”

  "Are you feelin’ any more pain?" Johnny asked Ingrid.

  “Only a little around my ribs.”

  "It would take us at least three days to heal badly bruised ribs.” Johnny said.

  "If you stay with us, you'll need to learn to use weapons." Liz’s tone was clipped. "We have access to a firing range, so you'll have to work on your skills with a gun. We also have a martial arts instructor to get you in shape."

  Gene laughed. "We're pretty fit."

  Liz narrowed her eyes and looked him over with a snarky expression. "We'll see."

  “He’s incredibly strong. I can vouch for that,” Ingrid said with a grin.

  “We’ll need to use you as a rover,” Liz said, staring directly at Ingrid.

  Ingrid shifted on the bench. "I agree that The Director and his worst supporters need to die. Some of the others too, but I’m not going to be used as your secret weapon against the forces of evil. I’ll help you however I can, but murder…"

  Liz's expression was icy. "I didn't take you for a hypocrite."

  "What are you saying?" Ingrid's eyes had darkened with anger.

  Johnny glared at Liz and then spoke to Ingrid in a soothing voice. "Maybe now would be a good time to tell us all about what happened in Atlanta."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Ingrid fisted her hands. "I don't have to tell you anything."

  Johnny smiled, maybe trying to put her at ease. "We're not judging you. We've only heard rumors. We'd like to hear the story from you, what you remember." His voice was calm, encouraging her to speak, but she was holding onto her anger with every ounce of her energy. "We'd like to hear the truth."

  The fact was, she didn't completely trust them, knowing instinctively that it would be stupid to do so this soon. Of course, there was a sneaky way to find out what their motives were.

  Focusing her psycore, Ingrid sent a tiny tendril of magic into Johnny's mind, finding only an honest curiosity with no ulterior motives other than the hope that she’d stay and teach this ragtag crew what she knew. He was passionate about protecting his friends, his family, and his people. Ingrid knew she could respect this male.

  A cool, sweet wash of power swept across her shoulders and neck, taking away some of the tension. Mack snaked his arm around her waist, urging her to lean against him as he spoke into her mind. "I think it'll be okay."

  She huffed out a burst of air. "It doesn’t really matter now, anyway." Ingrid stepped away from Mack and perched her behind on an unoccupied
table, mimicking the position the rovers had taken earlier so that she could easily face the group. The others settled down, anxious to hear her story.

  Wiping sweaty palms on the knees of her jeans, she began. "My troupe was in the middle of a performance for an audience of witches and sorcerers. Two rogue sorcerers managed to put up a wall between the audience and us, then worked a spell to make us lose consciousness. Our Mack freaked out and ran out the back door, pulling his power in a rush. It hurt so much.” She rubbed her belly unconsciously, remembering the moment.

  "You didn't black out?" Staci sounded incredulous.

  “No. Gene Stone and I were in the middle of a complicated lift when it happened. He protected my head and body as we fell. His head hit the stage hard. I tried to wake him up, but the sorcerers grabbed me." Ingrid shuddered, unable to continue for a moment. "Gene was dying and I couldn’t do anything.” She buried her face in her hands, the memories still too painful, overwhelming her mind.

  Mack was suddenly beside her, rubbing her back. "You're doing fine." He gently wiped Ingrid’s teary eyes with a tissue then handed her a fresh one. Ingrid smiled weakly, grateful that she wasn't facing this alone.

  “What did they want?” Johnny leaned closer.

  "The sorcerer who seemed to be in charge said he was giving me as a gift to some demon he'd bargained with. They seemed surprised that I hadn't dropped with the others. I guess they'd planned on dragging me off while I was unconscious. But I'd taught myself how to hold onto my own axis magic and not use it for performances. And since it was early in the performance, my psy-power was still strong.

  Alan laughed. “Whoa. They sure picked the wrong theta to kidnap.” Several people joined in the laughter, including Johnny. Their smiles gave Ingrid the courage to continue.

  “It freaked me out that I wasn't afraid—just really angry. I put up a fight, biting and kicking.” There was more chuckling from her troupe, especially Gene.

  “So what happened next?” Sam asked, enthralled like the others.

  They started to work another spell, this time to kill the troupe because I hadn’t cooperated. I pulled in power and…”

  “And?” Sam asked.

  “I told them to burn in hell.”

  “That’s it?” Liz’s shoulders slumped. The rest exchanged puzzled glances.

  Ingrid shrugged. “They caught on fire. I’d pictured them on fire in my mind, and when I said the words, it happened.”

  Complete silence descended. Ingrid waited for the accusations to fall.

  "What was that like?" Liz asked, scooting closer to Ingrid. “What did it feel like?"

  "Like a volcano of energy erupting from my gut. My axis and psy blended together, but it wasn't a fantasy projection. They burned. I murdered them.”

  They were all so quiet now, staring at Ingrid—the dangerous freak—with either fear or fascination. She scanned their faces, hoping somehow they'd understand, especially Alan, Staci, and Sam. Mack and Gene would support her, no matter what, and that sweet thought gave her the courage to continue.

  Ingrid’s voice was only a whisper when she spoke again. "I could have knocked them unconscious with my power, but I thought they'd killed Gene and were going to kill the others. My anger was off the charts. I wanted them dead.”

  “What happened then?” Gene asked.

  "They ran around, screaming. One of them clutched at the main curtain and it caught on fire. The flames spread quickly across the stage. The smoke was thick and I was choking. Alan got my attention, and we helped Diane and Staci get outside. The four of us lived. Gene, Dave, and Sam died in the fire. Gene was a good friend.” She choked down another sob.

  Mack pulled her against him. “Tell them the rest, my love,” he sent.

  “There’s more?” Gene asked.

  She forced herself to face this group of refugees, people who deserved the truth, however hard it was to speak it aloud.

  "We're not judging you. Tell us the rest, please." Johnny's voice was soothing.

  So she told them about what The Director had done to the audience, then added, "We went to the hospital, but about two hours later, The Director dragged us up to the roof of the building. His demons had found Mack Stone. Diane and I thought he was going to throw the four of us off the edge of the roof, but instead, he executed Mack Stone in front of us. I suppose it was a warning, to keep us in line. He tortured Mack before he killed him. Diane fainted twice, but he woke her up each time and made her watch. I hated Mack's guts for running away and a million other rotten things he’d done to the troupe, but no one deserved what The Director did to him. I was in the hospital on tranquillizers for a week. I think Diane's still there.

  “The mid-level demon who’d requested me for his harem was executed in front of a sellout stadium crowd. I passed on watching it,” she said.

  Ingrid scrutinized each of their faces, trusting them with the entire truth. "The Director doesn't know that I set those men on fire. I told him their own spell backfired on them and that I pushed one of them and he fell into the curtain. If you look at the tapes, you can’t tell it came from me."

  “You’re right. I watched those tapes.” Gene said.

  “As did I,” Mack added.

  "So all you did, was push your energy into them?" Liz looked puzzled.

  "Along with my rage and my desire to kill them. Specifically, to burn them.”

  Gene spoke. "You imagined it with your psycore and projected it into your axis. Your axis energy made it happen."

  "I murdered my friends."

  "You defended yourself, sugar. You thought your troupe was dead. The two sorcerers and Mack Stone murdered your friends," Gene pointed out calmly.

  “And The Director,” Staci added. “If he was there, he could have put the fire out before anyone was hurt.”

  "It can't be that simple." Sam said. "If it was, we'd be setting fire to things all the time."

  Gene answered, his thoughts racing at double time. "Actors are trained to take in axis energy, but we don't often expel it, except when we morph. We project out with our psycore. Ingrid seems to have learned to do both—focusing her anger into a weapon. I think we should all be taking lessons from her.”

  Liz had walked over to Ingrid, her lip curled up in a half-snarl/half smile. "You're a fuckin’ scary bitch. Those were master sorcerers you barbequed."

  "If I hadn't killed them, if I'd gone with them, my friends would be alive. The Director told me that’s what I should have done.”

  "Then you'd be dead, or worse." Liz's expression was fierce. “And you wouldn’t be able to help the thousands of people you’re going to help working with us.”

  "Why do you hate The Director?" Ingrid asked Liz.

  "He killed both my sisters. Had his henchmen pick them up off the street and then gave them to a pack of wolves. I was nine years old when they were taken.” Her tone was bitter and her eyes held an icy determination that made Ingrid shudder. “Their bodies were delivered to our house when the wolves had finished with them."

  “How do you know it was The Director who ordered the wolves to take them? They might have been acting independently.” Gene suggested.

  “The Director’s office had contacted my dad the week before. Told him to hand over his two older daughters to the local alpha. It was part of some bargain he’d made to keep the wolves from causing trouble in the neighborhood. Monthly human offerings, they called it. My sisters had caught the alpha’s eye. I was much better at hiding out. They weren’t thetas like me.”

  "I'm sorry." Knowing there was nothing she could say or do to help, Ingrid added, "I guess I'd rather be thought of as a fucking scary bitch, than an ingénue whore." They grinned at one another for the first time. “Mack and I are signing on as rovers.”

  Dave and Diane rose from the table, excusing themselves and returning to their room. Probably to discuss the criminal actions of their troupe's crazy former ingénue, Ingrid imagined.

  Staci approached Ingrid with tears
in her eyes and offered her a warm hug. "You were so courageous."

  "You're not afraid of me?" Ingrid hugged her back, holding on a little too tightly, feeling more relieved than she could ever put into words. Staci Hudson was a female she thought she might be able to call friend one day.

  "You were being attacked. It was a normal reaction—to fight back. Now we have the opportunity to do some good with our power." Staci turned and held her hands out to Sam, the male she'd been forced to partner with years ago, yet also the one she’d given her heart to. When he was by her side once more, they faced the three rebel thetas. "I'll help train your friends. I don't have Ingrid's abilities, but I'm a strong projector. Mostly, I’d love to help the injured. I’m a natural healer,” Staci announced without a hint of arrogance.

  Sam shook Johnny's hand. "I'll hunt with you. I'm in good shape and I'd love to fuck over a few of them." Sam had a glint in his eye Ingrid had never seen before. He leaned down and gave Staci the kind of kiss that makes a girl's toes curl, and she seemed more than happy about being on the receiving end of it.

  When they broke apart, Ingrid sent a mental message to Sam, tuning it to Sam’s unique energy. "Can you hear me?" Sam nodded, looking a little surprised. "You two have already linked your powers?" Ingrid asked.

  "Yes." He grinned, glancing down at Staci affectionately.

  "Do you love each other? Mack and I think it’s possible."

  Staci answered, her eyes sparkling with delight. "We've loved each other for decades, since we first met as ingénues, thirty years ago. What they teach is complete nonsense. It's a way to keep us isolated."

  Johnny was looking at them strangely, but was distracted when an excited Alan grabbed his hand, volunteering to help. "I'm not an actor, so I’ve only been trained to project things, not people. Put me where you need me the most. I'm in."