Chapter 20

Alone in his office Kaleb tried to get a grip on what had just happened. One moment he'd been waiting for Alja to start the projection, just considering that – contrary to his initial assessment – maybe her features were not so mediocre at all. The next moment there had been nothing in the world but the fierce desire to touch her, to have his mouth on hers, to taste her.

He hadn't even thought about resisting it. And the experience was beyond anything he could have ever imagined. If this was what emotions were, he could understand the feeling races much better now. The sensation of the soft, warm skin of her face was still burning on his palms and that vibrant scent of flowers and rain and pure life still seemed to linger in the air. How could she smell of something so vividly alive? As an Arrow she was death on two legs – two long, well-shaped legs, he admitted to himself. And her lips! That feminine softness, he'd never have expected from that hard-bitten soldier. But she had melted under his mouth with a taste that was pure temptation. He just had craved for more. And he hadn't known before that his mind was capable to produce such detailed imagination of exactly how much more he wanted. It had created images of her strong, beautiful body, naked, tangled with his, glistening with sweat. He had wished he could put his hands on that skin all over her; feel her in places he had never desired to touch a woman before –

Then dissonance had hit. Hard.

The pain had come so suddenly he was completely taken aback by it. And it had been accompanied by his special addition to the conditioning that only occurred when he was perilously close to losing control and the pain no longer held him in check. The images the Protocol had sent flashing through his mind had been enough to snap him out of it.

He had tied the memories of his first murder to the dissonance: pictures of a female corpse, broken and twisted by his powers. Her lifeless face a reminder of what awaited him when he broke Silence and of the ones he betrayed by giving in to the temptation of that beautiful Arrow – a woman that came right from the corrupt system he wanted to destroy.

No, not exactly, if the tale about her parents was true. But Alja had grown up in that system, had thrived in its shadows. And she had blood on her hands. Not as much as him, but she wasn't innocent. Contrary to the women he had failed to save and the one that was still out there – the only one who held his loyalty.

He reached inside his pocket and closed his hand around the small platinum charm he always carried with him. One person, there must be one person who you do not want to die? Judd's words, when the Ghost had declared he didn't care for the life of the innocents that would die if the Council collapsed without preparation. The assassin had also told him to consider this one life, whenever he made a decision. He had. It had been the one thing that had kept him from annihilating the whole Council and countless lives with it.

Yes, there was one Psy who did not deserve to die, the picture of her mind branded into his brain. If he could only find Her, that pure mind, his personal sun. He had learned everything the NetMind had shown him about her by heart. The signature of her extraordinary mind was something a part of his brain always scanned for in the background. He was sure he'd recognize her if he ever got as much as a glimpse of her. And even if he didn't allow himself the feeling, he knew what she was to him. Hope. His last Hope. Without Her he'd have taken a violent path long ago. He would have destroyed the corrupt Council superstructure with a single, violent surge of his powers, not caring for the life of millions who would die in the psychic shockwave this would create. She was the sole reason he hadn't lost the last remnants of his belief that there might be something truly good somewhere out there. Though she would probably run screaming if he ever got near her, because he was evil – an evil only allowed to exist to root out other evil. But he had sworn to find Her.

And now he let himself be distracted from that task by Alja. An Arrow. An insidious weapon, designed to sabotage Silence. Again his thoughts seemed to be drawn to her without his consent. At the sheer memory of her he could feel his conditioning ready to kick in. He was surprised that it – disturbed him, because it kept him from further analyzing what had happened between him and Alja. And he wanted to do that very much.

Ever since he'd secretly watched Judd and Sienna Lauren at some kind of social event deep in the heart of the SnowDancer wolves' territory he had been tempted by emotion. Those two belonged to a very small group of Psy who had defected from the Net and found refuge with the major wolf pack in California. Judd had powers very much like his own. Only that his fellow rebel had missed the leap into cardinal status. And Sienna Lauren was a cardinal X-Psy, a designation so lethal that those who had it usually didn't survive into adulthood. But both of them had broken Silence in the most final way by mating with changelings. And yet they'd walked out not only sane, but seemingly more stable than ever. And what he'd experienced with Alja might just drive him over the edge; make him risk everything he had built his life on, just to have more – more of her.

At that moment he perceived a small stinging pain in the palm of his hand. He pulled it out to see that he had fisted his hand so hard that the spikes of the small star had cut into his skin deep enough to draw blood. He was losing control. And even worse: a part of him no longer cared.

He needed to think, needed to file through everything he knew to see if there were any hidden snares in this. But he found it hard to follow the clear trains of thought his mind usually worked with. And he definitely needed to calm down his physical reactions. Maybe it would help to steam off some of the wild energy Alja had set free in his body. He telepathed to Delenko, ordering him to make sure the personnel was back in the building and to insure that this very extraordinary woman stayed where she was. Then he teleported out in the middle of the working day to take a run.

Alja could have slapped herself. Now she had done it. She had proven without a doubt that she was beyond flawed and a danger to every Silent Psy in her vicinity. Back in her quarters she started pacing back and forth between the walls like a trapped animal. There was no use to act Silent any longer. She had fucked it up completely.

She contemplated contacting Aden and Vasic to get her out of here immediately before Kaleb decided she was better off dead – deal or not. But she wouldn't pull any of her fellow Arrows into this mess she had created. And running away alone was as much an option as it had been the last time she'd thought about it. Distraught she realized that this was the second time she had brought herself in such a situation, all because the man just made her lose control every time they met. Only this time it was worse.

Oh come on. He won't kill you. You have a deal. He wanted you to project. He only got what he wanted. It was nothing but an experiment for him. She was so confused she didn't even notice that the thought came not from her own mental voice but from that wicked temptation she hid so deep inside her mind.

But it was right: She remembered his last words to her: I'll let you know, when I have further need of your abilities. She could have screamed at the ice in his voice. He had kissed the sense out of her seconds before and then he had wiped it away, as if it was a minor incident in the everyday schedule. And he had made it very clear, that she was just an object to his use that had maybe gotten even more interesting because someone else with power wanted it gone. The man really was a cold bastard and expecting anything else even for a fleeting moment was just a product of her own stupidity.

That's what you get for meddling with someone's emotions. They won't feel for you if you don't make them! But you're too good to do that, aren't you? Good thing I can take care of what you want. The little voice wouldn't be silenced today.

I didn't want this. I am here to do a job, not to spin out of control because of some hormonal reactions.

Oh yeah you're so Psy, so controlled. And still making yourself believe that honor and destiny shit. You didn't stay because of the NetMind or some self-imposed duty. You stayed because you want that man. And there's nothing wrong with that. You can have him, if you stop being such a fucking hypocrite about your powers.

You did this! You made me provoke him! You pushed me to make him kiss me! Too late Alja realized that she was no longer thinking with one mental voice. She was losing it after all. Her behavioral controls had failed without her notice. And the part of her that had acted was the one she usually had to suppress to survive in this world of cold Silence. It was her dark part, the one that was no longer fully sane. And yet it was right again: She had never been so tempted to use her powers than when Kaleb had kissed her. She still ached for more of that sensation that had all but exploded inside her. But she'd never use her projection that way. I don't need this. Go away. She tried to force the other voice down. It didn't work.

This is how you reward me? I took the bad, the evil and the violence for you. Remember? I keep their voices at bay, because you cannot bear them. I am the strong one. You won't silence me this time. That insidious little voice was now speaking with a strangely cold, yet angry tone that promised more darkness to come.

No you're nothing on your own. You're just a part of me. We are the same. "There is no you. Just me." She spoke the last words out loud, hoping to convince herself, failing once more.

Oh yes. I am a part of you. I am the part that holds what you want and also what you fear. But you're splitting me off, because you're weak. You do just the same what all Psy do. Severing everything you can't stand and denying it ever existed. But you won't get rid of me! – Or do you think you can take their voices, their pain, their deaths? Are you ready to face the ones you murdered?

She felt nauseating fear creep up inside her. She was not ready to face what she'd done. She'd never be. Yet she couldn't do what the rest of her race did. She couldn't allow herself to split off a part of her. It was what had brought her people to breaking point. If she did the same, there was no hope left for any of them.

"I have to and I will take it. There is only one me," she whispered. Then she dived deep into her mind to get to the part she had unconsciously separated from her self and let the madness wash over her.

At first there were only whispers: the reproachful voices of her victims closing in on her, talking about betrayal, pressing her to remember what she'd sworn never to forget: She had taken lives. Seven lives, seven deaths. And all of them were there, inside her.

Then the memories crashed in on her with merciless violence. She dropped to her knees in front of the bed burying her face in the covers to muffle her screams as her soul was pierced by terror, pain and a desperation one could only feel in the face of certain death. She was torn apart again and again – limb from limb, body from soul. And every time it stopped, it started again. And again. And again. Each time with a different emotional flavor. Each live had been different, each death had been. And she had to relive all of them. It seemed the agony would never end.

By the time those first waves were ebbing away her throat was raw and her body shaking uncontrollably. She turned around to lean against the bed and gasp for air partially pulling the covers with her because her hands had cramped to rigid fists in them.

But she knew it wasn't over.

What followed next was the guilt – gut-wrenching guilt that made her think her chest might literally explode any moment. She forced her eyes wide open and tried to focus on something, anchor herself on something that would keep her connected to the outside world. The dull, gray box that was supposed to be her home now offered no such thing and soon she felt her vision blacken out at the edges.

No! She couldn't fall inside her mind completely. If she did now she'd never get out. She tried to get up but the moment she got to her feet, dizziness almost knocked her over again. Then her ears started ringing. Her auditory perception was gone; her sense of balance soon after and with it came an overwhelming nausea. Somehow she half staggered, half crawled to the bathroom barely reaching it before the retching started. She groped about, trying to hold herself upright but her sweat-slick hands kept slipping at the rim of the toilet bowl. She tried to keep focused on her tactile perception at least but the raw storm of bloodcurdling emotions and memories kept pulling her under. And slowly her whole body went numb, letting her slide deeper and deeper into the horror inside her. Some time that felt like an eternity later her survival instinct finally kicked in and everything stopped.