Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“No, but they could. Don’t buy one.” Yakov squeezed her hand. “So you know how my great-grandfather was an F-Psy?”
“What?!” It came out a shout.
Chapter 31
Dear Déwei,
I understand your reservations, brother, I truly do, but I don’t think you can comprehend the chaos in the PsyNet right now. We’re all going slowly mad, losing pieces of ourselves and pieces of those we love.
Even my beloved Kanoa is starting to show neurological issues. He’s undergoing testing but is certain—and so are the medics—that the disorder in the Net is leaking through into his brain, causing irreparable harm.
How can you expect me to fight against the Protocol when it might save his life? And yet, at the same time, I would not lose you. Ever.
Your little sister,
Hien
—Letter from Hien Nguyen to Déwei Nguyen (5 March 1974)
“GUESS IT WASN’T in the files.” He rubbed his jaw. “Makes sense. Most people outside the clan wouldn’t know about Denu. Known to the world as Déwei Nguyen. A strong, empathic man who had his heart broken by Silence.”
She heard the respect in his voice, and though she had no experience with such deep family ties, she also understood that her family was an aberration. “His memory means a great deal to you.”
A nod. “The thing is, Theo, he left a little of himself behind in me and Pasha.”
Theo felt her eyes widen. She’d never considered that changelings might have psychic abilities, but of course they must. Prior to Silence and the retreat of the Psy race from the world, Psy, changeling, and humans had all lived in the same society. They’d married, mated, and had intimate connections with each other. Children had been born of those bonds.
Which meant that not only did some changelings have echoes of psychic abilities, so must any number of humans. Today, however, she was only interested in one of those descendants of the past: the bear in the driver’s seat.
“What did you see?” she asked, her voice a rasp.
“You. I saw you. When I was sixteen.” His thigh flexed under her. “We played in a field under the sunshine.” A glance at her. “So you see, pchelka, I’ve known you a lot longer than a couple of days.”
Theo’s mind spun, her center of gravity lost. But even with that, she felt the tension in his muscles. “What are you hiding?”
“I’m not hiding anything. I’m just choosing not to tell you everything.”
Theo narrowed her eyes. “That sounds like sneaky logic. Like a cat.”
His chest rumbled. “No need to insult me.” Scowl heavy on his face, he said, “I’ll tell you once I figure out the solution. Until then, it’s just a mess it’ll do no good to share.”
Stubborn, she realized. He was very, very stubborn.
And once again, Aunt Rita was proven correct.
Deciding to drop the subject for the time being because what he’d shared was startling enough, she said, “Tell me more about your dream.”
He did so without hesitation, and she felt her heart burst open with wonder at the joyous beauty of his vision. Then she almost knew how to laugh when he complained about her ID photograph and asked if it had been taken by a feline.
“What does it mean?” she asked afterward. “That we were always meant to meet?”
“It means what we make it mean.” His voice was oddly solemn. “My grandmother Quyen passed on a lesson that her father taught her: that nothing is set in stone. The future is ours to shape.”
The words rang in her head as they closed the final distance to the gates into what she was beginning to think of as her personal hellscape. Her mouth went dry. Her heart struggled to pump blood. “The future is what I make of it,” she said to herself after Yakov jumped out to unlock the gates, and it was the most hopeful thing she’d thought for an eternity.
Yet her lungs still protested her need to inhale and exhale, the echo of terrified screams a painful screech in her ears. Not her own screams. No, not just her own screams.
Breath short and shallow, she frowned, tried to remember where she’d been, what she’d seen. Today, however, her brain refused to cooperate.
Perhaps it couldn’t cooperate.
What damage had her grandfather done to her neurons? Had she been going through life believing herself whole when he’d cut out and thrown away pieces of her?
The idea made her stomach churn, but she forced herself to volunteer to close up the gates after Yakov drove through. If this was her hell, then she’d live in it, instead of allowing it to crush her.
“Done.” She jumped back into the passenger seat.
Yakov shot her an amber-eyed look. “Tough as fucking nails.” Lifting her hand to his mouth again, he kissed her knuckles in a way that had already become familiar—and wanted.
So painfully wanted.
The shadows pressed in on them as they drove on. When she lowered the window in an effort to dispel the sensation of being suffocated by the darkness, the rustle of the trees seemed a sinister whisper. “I think I remembered a fragment,” she said, because she had to get it out. “Garbled. Less words than emotion.”