Deceiver's Bond: Book Two of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (6 page)

I wanted to argue but knew it was useless. I slumped down in my chair. “That’s why Lancer is acting so irrationally, isn’t it? These former associates—they’ve altered his mind.”

“Yes. I spent some time examining him. They’ve done an expert job. They’ve exploited the emotional damage of his brother’s death.”

I frowned at him. “They’re backing me into a corner, Daniel. If they push me too far, it’s not going to end well. I’m not going to lie down and die, or let them rape my mind.”

“Of course not. And you’re not alone. Michael and the rest of my people are keeping a close eye on you. You’re under our protection. Lancer is being neutralized. We’re orchestrating your release. You’re not in a corner yet. So, no need to get out the big guns.” He said this last bit with a wink.

A rap at the door cut short our conversation. Collins strode into the room, first nodding at me and then extending a hand to Daniel. “Counselor Evans. I’m Chief Deputy Collins. The charges have been dropped against your client. Ms. Devon is free to go.”

Evans, huh?

Daniel’s demeanor transformed. He shook Collins’ hand and gave him a stiff nod, looking serious. “I see. That is welcome news, indeed. I had begun to think the Coventry County Sheriff’s Department had taken leave of their senses. Ms. Devon is an upstanding citizen who risked her life to help the FBI, at their request I might add. It is unconscionable that she has been treated in such a manner after her heroic efforts in the Circle Murders case.”

Collins’ jaw tightened, but he let the comment pass and gestured toward the door. “Follow me. We’ll process her release papers and get her out of here.”

Back at the counter, Deputy Rollings retrieved the bin holding my belongings and confirmed, crosschecking my previously signed form, one key ring was in the department’s possession. With both Daniel and Chief Deputy Collins hovering behind me, I read and signed the forms securing my release.

Rollings worked efficiently, managing to split her attention between me and a disheveled man at the outside window who was clearly intoxicated. Through the opening, I could see the drunkard’s slurred complaints being ignored by a grim-faced deputy. By the look of it, most of the man’s ample weight was supported by the countertop. Elbows splayed awkwardly, he leaned halfway into the window opening and wagged a pudgy finger as he babbled. The smell of liquor and cigarettes packed a wallop, even from ten feet away. I was relieved to follow Collins away from the counter.

I trailed behind the Chief Deputy with Daniel at my side and tried to remain calm, but I couldn’t stop asking myself:
What next?
Daniel and his people had been successful in facilitating my release. I should be grateful, right? Daniel’s company, however, was a barbed hook. His presence entangled me further into Invisius Verso’s business, which I desperately wanted to avoid.

My eyes darted around the intake area. Through an open doorway left of the stairs, I spotted a couple of deputies sitting at their desks, typing or leafing through paperwork. The stairs, while not crowded, were continually in use. Adding to my apprehension, the drunk in the lobby had gotten louder and more belligerent. More than one officer passing through glanced toward the booking window with a wary expression.

Collins waited for me and Daniel with the door propped open, his eyes intent on the scene brewing just outside our view. As I stepped into the lobby, the languorous drunk at the counter noticed my appearance. Bringing himself upright, he began gesticulating wildly and then lurched at me while ranting something about illegal seizure. Collins moved to intercept him, letting the door swing closed, as the arresting deputy attempted to restrain his suddenly ambulatory prisoner. Displeased by the interference, the drunk spun around, feigned a punch with his right hand while his left made a surprisingly agile grab for the deputy’s sidearm.

“Gun!” Collins shouted, diving at the drunken man’s left arm.

I backed away but was brought up short by the closing security door. In the far room, the clamor of squeaking chairs and pounding footsteps accompanied the sudden movement of all the desk jockeys.

“Get behind me. I’ll hold it open,” Daniel said, jabbing his thumb behind the open door.

It felt a little cowardly, but I stepped back, mostly to get out of the way of the stampede of deputies heading our way. A loud grunt instantly drew my attention to the frenzied scuffle at the counter. It was impossible to see what was going on with Collins’ broad back blocking most of the view. My insides clenched at the thought of the drunk getting a hold of the loaded weapon.

Two deputies ran past Daniel and jumped into the fray. One of them held his stun gun at the ready. The squeaking of rubber soled shoes on the linoleum floor and strenuous grunts echoed throughout the room. When Collins yelled at someone to ‘taze him,’ the officer with the stun gun descended with an answering yell. A sharp groan preceded the prisoner’s sudden collapse to the floor. Collins rode the drunk down, one knee in his back and both hands restraining his arms. In the midst of the takedown, a gun skittered across the floor. An officer, who had just plowed through the open doorway, quickly retrieved it.

When Collins secured the prisoner with handcuffs, I stepped out from behind the door.

“Lire.” Daniel’s voice was so low, it was almost a moan.

To a non-practitioner, Daniel probably looked maniacal, but I knew better. His pinched, intense expression told me his telepathic skills were being thwarted and his efforts required a great deal of energy and concentration. Without knowing the odds, I wasn’t sure whether I should be terrified or reassured.

I was just about to ask Daniel what I could do to help when Lancer’s voice, deep and menacing, came from the hallway behind me.

“Scheming bitch.”

Driven by panic and a modicum of deliberation, my TK shot outward, a dense web of invisible filaments extending in all directions. Even before I set eyes on him, I knew Lancer stood ten feet behind me with his weapon leveled at my back. As I turned, the menacing sight of his semi-automatic handgun seized my attention, even though it wasn’t unexpected. Sharp jolts of fear pricked painfully along my skin, all the way to my toes.

The world around me slowed. I felt every movement nearby—Lancer’s haggard breathing and the slight wavering of his gun; Daniel sliding to his knees and pressing his fingers to his temples; Collins cuffing the drunk—all quivered in my extended webbing. Lancer’s finger bore down on the trigger. There wasn’t time for finesse. I mentally jerked the nose of the weapon, snapping at it like the flick of a wet towel, and hoped it wasn’t too little, too late.

The vibration of the bullet thrummed against my magical lattice, telegraphing its deadly path as it buried itself in the wall just a few feet away. The accompanying roar tore through the room. I slapped my hands over my ears, even though the action was seconds late and totally useless.

Holy shit! If I’d been a split-second slower …

Standing in my living room and deflecting airsoft gun pellets was one thing. I didn’t like my odds against another well-aimed bullet.

I couldn’t afford to give Lancer another shot, but it was all I could do to keep my surging magic under control. I didn’t want to risk turning him into a human torch, so it had to be ice. Thrusting my panicked thoughts aside, I focused squarely on Lancer’s weapon. I altered the air and extracted heat, encasing the gun and a good part of his hand in a solid chunk of ice. The accompanying
pop
was almost as loud as the previous gunshot. My control faltered and I couldn’t deal with the siphoned energy. It exploded from my core, spiking the temperature surrounding my body by nearly ten degrees. If Daniel had been standing next to me, he would have likely been burned.

I struggled to think through the adrenaline surging through my system while keeping a lid on further magical outbursts. This wasn’t the first time I’d needed to disarm someone without hurting them. Sadly, just like my previous efforts, coming up with smart tactics in a life-threatening situation wasn’t my strong suit. Since much of my knowledge of physics came from episodes of
Mythbusters
, it was only a matter of time before I did something catastrophic.

God.
I just wanted to go home and hide under the covers. If Daniel and his troops didn’t ride to the rescue soon, I wasn’t sure I’d make it there. It wasn’t because I was powerless. I had power coming out of my ears. The big problem was using it to protect Daniel and myself without hurting any bystanders in the process.

Lancer was a puppet. His brain had been altered by unscrupulous telepaths who thought nothing about using innocent people to do their dirty work. My temperature rose just thinking about it. Fighting the puppets would get us nowhere. The only way to stop the attacks was to hunt down the Invisius telepaths pulling the strings. Perhaps then I’d feel morally justified in unleashing my power without restraint.

From behind me, the unmistakable sound of guns being drawn, followed by commands to drop the weapon, peppered the air. It wasn’t reassuring.

Just one nudge from a telepath …

“Sheriff Lancer, drop the weapon!” Collins shouted, his own weapon drawn.

In the ensuing moments, Lancer’s expression had changed from rage to confused pain as he puzzled over his frozen hand.

Damn it.
If things continued down this path, I wasn’t the only one who’d be in the crossfire.

Daniel slumped against the door, hands at his temples. I edged over and glanced down at him. “Daniel. Talk to me. What are we up against?”

His face was twisted with effort. “Three … outside. Two … inside,” he murmured through tight lips.

“How many of you? How many good guys?”

“Three,” he grunted.

I wondered whether he was including himself in that count—or
me
for that matter—but I didn’t want to disrupt his concentration to ask.

Bottom line—we were outnumbered.

Collins and five of his deputies had their guns drawn and aimed at the sheriff. Burke, who was nearest to Daniel and me, sidled closer, putting his body between the sheriff and us.

“Get back,” he hissed.

“He can’t drop the weapon! Don’t shoot him!” I called out.

Daniel grunted, from exertion or pain, I couldn’t tell. When I looked back at Collins, his weapon wavered in my direction. He had a disturbing, far-away look on his face that scared the hell out of me.

“What the … ?” Burke mumbled.

I was too distracted by Collins to see whether Burke was marveling at the block of ice on Lancer’s hand or something else. The sound of the door opening at the front of the building drew the attention of the deputies, all except Collins. His arm trembled, gun still pointed at me, and his unfocused expression had changed to one of confusion.

Fueled by panic and fear, magic undulated wildly inside of me. If I didn’t get my emotions under control, I’d be lucky not to kill someone, or myself.

“Stay where you are!” one of the deputies shouted, I assumed at the person who had just entered the building.

I spared a quick glance in that direction and gaped when I saw Detective Vince Vanelli standing twenty feet away with his hands up.

Three damned weeks and he has to show up
now
?

With Vince’s safety adding to my growing list of worries, my composure held together by a tenuous thread. Something had to give. I couldn’t keep my seething magic contained for much longer. It needed direction, something constructive to do before I lost all control.

“Daniel,” I blurted, desperate for help, even though I knew he couldn’t give it.

My power was leaking out. The air around me shimmered with heat, lifting my hair with its warm current. I stepped away from Daniel and Burke, worried about scorching them if I lost it.

Moving didn’t sit well with Collins. His grip on his gun tightened, finger straining across the trigger guard, the fight for control over his body playing out on his conflicted expression. I tried to focus on his weapon, like I had with Lancer, but too much power strained for release. I knew it would be impossible to control. I had to think bigger. Something away from his body. A wall. A protective wall of ice. But if I did that, I’d have to redirect the heat properly this time, otherwise I’d fry anyone near me.

I tapped into my magic, gathering moisture … and then Daniel said, “Lire, it’s okay. They’ve retreated.”

But it was too late. I wasn’t practiced at dealing with so much power and it had to go somewhere. I did the only thing I could think of. I directed it at the floor, more or less instantly turning the lobby into an ice rink.

A deafening
crack
split the air and reverberated up my legs. It only took one deputy’s misstep to send the rest into a flailing melee, desperately flinging their arms and tumbling into each other like human Weebles, except these guys all fell down.

If I’d known what I was doing, I might have dispersed the siphoned heat elsewhere. Instead, I tried to put it back. A waist-high fog bank erupted from the floor, obscuring and dampening Sheriff Lancer’s finest.

Not ideal, but at least I hadn’t burned down the building.

Vince, Burke, Lancer, and I were the only people in the lobby left standing. I was the one sucking air like I’d just escaped an evil clown’s grasp.

“Holy shit,” Burke blurted before returning his attention to Lancer. He took a tentative step, probably to check his footing, and then subdued the now docile sheriff. He cuffed him and then leaned down to examine Lancer’s hand, obviously trying to figure out what to do about the ice-covered gun.

Lancer stared at the floor and mumbled incoherently. I didn’t try to figure out what he was saying. I’m sure it wasn’t anything I wanted to hear.

“Burke.” I nodded toward Lancer’s frozen hand. “Get ready to take the gun.”

I looked past his frown, directing my power at the ice. The block disappeared in a puff of steam, and Burke managed to pry the weapon from Lancer’s hand before it clattered to the floor.