Chapter 11

"Okay," I said for roughly the zillionth time. "But I'm a psycho warper. Not a telepath."

Lienna and I were walking along a quiet Yaletown street. It was late, and the typically bustling, restaurant-laden neighborhood was almost completely devoid of people. A purple glow cast diffused light over the city as the sun crept below the buildings in the west.

"You read my mind," she pointed out yet again. "Several times. It took you all of ten minutes to figure out how to do it on command."

"All I'm doing is concentrating really hard on the feeling of your mind. I've always been able to vaguely sense minds—but never read them. This has never happened before."

"Except with Kade."

We'd left the Crow and Hammer twenty minutes ago, but with my newly discovered, impossible-to-explain mind-reading ability, Lienna hadn't wanted to leave me alone. We were a block away from her apartment, where she would pack a suitcase before we returned to the condo. Depending on when Darius confirmed Floris Visser's location, we might need to leave in a hurry.

"There must be a logical explanation," she muttered.

"There's nothing logical about this." I started ticking things off on my fingers. "Psychics having two completely separate abilities isn't a thing, as far as we know. Psycho warping doesn't include telepathy, as far as we know. And I didn't have this ability before now."

"As far as we know," she added. "Maybe you've had it all along and you only just… unlocked it or something."

"What am I—a video game character? I reached the prerequisite XP level and my next psychic ability popped onto my action bar?"

"I don't know, Kit." She smiled wanly. "It's not a bad thing, though, right? Telepathy is really useful. You should talk to Agent Tim first thing tomorrow."

"No," I said, waving my hands in a negative. "Nope. Nuh-uh. That's a bad idea."

She frowned. "Why?"

"For the same reason we're keeping my reality warping on the DL, and also because spontaneously developing new abilities isn't normal, Lienna. I don't think I should start blabbing about it just yet."

"I guess so," she said, not sounding particularly convinced.

I, on the other hand, was completely convinced. Maybe I'd been hanging around a certain cagey ex-assassin too long, but I was more convinced that I shouldn't be revealing my multifaceted psychic skills to anyone than I was about declaring M*A*S*H the greatest sitcom ever made.

And that was saying something.

"Let's shift gears," I said, reaching out to take her hand. "The whole telepathy thing derailed us. You were talking about us."

She nodded, quiet for a long moment. We were approaching a small square between rows of restaurants. Tall, heavy trees curled over the square, with an art installation that featured a couple dozen colorful umbrellas strung between them, providing the benches below with whimsical shelter from the city's perpetual drizzle.

"Right," she finally said, curling her fingers more tightly around mine. "I wanted to ask if you?—"

With squealing tires, a black Sprinter van came to a sliding halt at the edge of the square across from us. The side door flew open, and two men jumped out. While that alone was rather suspicious, the fact that the men were dressed in black combat gear had us instantly shifting into defensive mode.

"Consilium?" I guessed tersely. "Or a random assassination attempt by one of our many enemies?"

Lienna didn't answer. She'd already pulled out her wooden Rubik's cube and was spinning segments in rapid succession.

With a quick glance around the square and surrounding streets to confirm the four of us were all alone—no passersby, no innocent civilians, no dog walker who might end up with a vampire hand in their poor mutt's jaws—I targeted the two stormtroopers.

One Death-Star-strength Blackout warp, incoming. I slammed the sensory deprivation into their brains, expecting them to seize up, scream, collapse, and plead for me to stop. You know, the usual.

Except they didn't.

"Uh, Lienna?" I muttered. "My warps aren't working on them."

She smiled tightly as she finished twisting her cube. "I'll take care of them. Ori gravitatis lapido pilis!"

Thatwasn't an incantation I'd heard before. As the final syllable left her lips, the cube erupted like a Roman candle, lobbing sparkling, fist-sized shooting stars in rapid succession. Lienna tilted the cube and stepped away from me to adjust her aim as the glowing spots with fizzing orange tails arched toward the goons.

When the first projectile hit the ground, it ballooned for a split second into an eyeball-searing flash that collapsed in on itself like a dying star. Both enemy mythics were yanked violently toward the miniature black hole with the power of a thousand vacuum cleaners.

The next fizzy blob of magic smacked into the ground six feet away, and with a flash, the unprepared goons were sucked toward that one instead. Each subsequent projectile had an equally brutal effect—the moment it connected with a solid surface, it flashed, collapsed, and pulled everything around it toward its center in an awe-inspiring gravity implosion. The men, along with their weapons and other debris, were jerked around like marionettes under the control of a particularly violent puppeteer—left, right, forward, and back. The final magical firework hit one of the suspended umbrellas, and with a flash, it whipped the two men eight feet into the air before dropping them onto the ground with a bone-crunching thump. It was the perfect finale to the light show.

"Wow," I murmured.

With a proud grin, Lienna dashed forward to cuff the goons. I followed at an ambling pace, enjoying our fantastical victory.

A quiet pop from somewhere on my right. A flash of movement. A blast of pain through my cheek as something struck me. Then the cold rush of a liquid running down my face—and the terrifying spin of the square as my vision blurred.

I'd been hit with a potion.

Its effect was instant, sucking my brain toward oblivion. As I sagged bonelessly, a hazy figure materialized and a burly pair of hands grabbed my shoulders, dragging me away.

The last thing to penetrate my awareness was the fading shape of Lienna, halfway across the square, screaming my name.

My first sense to awaken was smell. A strong, musty stench of sweat and dust pummeled my nostrils.

Next came pain. My shoulders burned, my hands were numb, and my kneecaps throbbed sharply.

Finally, my sight returned. A bizarre assortment of geometric shapes slowly came into focus. Directly in front of me was a worn workout bench patched with peeling duct tape. A few rusted dumbbells were stacked next to it, and a row of dusty, outdated treadmills, stationary bikes, and ellipticals were lined up against the wall behind it.

Wait… was this actually the afterlife? Maybe there had been some horrible clerical error at the Pearly Gates and I'd been sent to Valhathletica—the Viking graveyard for gym equipment and purgatory for CrossFit enthusiasts, where the rivers ran thick with protein shakes, it only rained creatine, and the angels had six-packs but skipped leg day.

"Agent Morris."

At the sound of that gravelly voice, my woozy contemplation of the hereafter burned away in a surge of adrenaline. This definitely wasn't the afterlife. Or, if it was, it was hell.

Kade stepped into my line of sight. His bald head, broad shoulders, fitted black shirt, black combat pants, and heavy boots were the most unappealing things I'd ever seen.

For the second time this year, I'd been taken captive by this follicle-free fucker.

As I stared at him, battling a flood of fear, my sharpened awareness put together the rest of the intense physical discomfort inundating my body.

My hands were tied above my head. I was on my knees, and my feet were firmly secured behind me. Kade had strung me up so that I was leaning forward, putting extra strain on my shoulders. I couldn't see everything around me, but I guessed I was tied up inside a weight rack, my arms bound to the pull-up bar somewhere above my head.

As my gaze swung sharply around, I saw nothing but fluorescent lights and decaying exercise paraphernalia. I'd been half-right with my afterlife assessment; I was trapped in a gym equipment graveyard.

My only comfort: Lienna wasn't strung up beside me. My woozy recollection placed her halfway across the square and significantly more conscious than yours truly when Kade had snatched me. I hoped she was safe.

"Welcome back," Kade said, sitting down on the old bench in front of me. "I was getting worried you might not wake up."

"Your concern is touching," I grunted. The pain in my shoulders was rapidly climbing toward excruciating, and my back and leg muscles weren't far behind.

"Personally, I'd love to watch the life drain from your eyes," Kade replied, a familiar sadistic glee shining in his unblinking stare, "while you writhe and scream until your body gives up. But fortunately for you, my orders explicitly prohibit that. For now."

Dread spiked in my chest, almost overwhelming my surprise. I'd thought Kade and his superiors wanted me dead for screwing up their attempt to kill Darius and take over the Vancouver precinct five months ago. There was something extra terrifying about this ruthless, powerful mythic cabal not only knowing who I was, but also wanting something from me.

I really didn't need any more terror in my system right now. Knowing Kade, he would have accounted for my psycho warping, so I narrowed my eyes, concentrating on that vague sense of his mind the way I had when I'd accidentally peeked into Lienna's thoughts. If I could snag a snippet of his sadistic internal monologue, I might hit on a clue to help me escape this mess.

But I didn't hear a damn thing.

Kade tilted his head to one side, marginally amused. "What are you attempting, Agent Morris?"

That spike of dread in my chest leaked into the rest of my body, fusing with the agonizing strain on my muscles. I targeted the twisted chunk of gray matter trapped inside his skull and delivered a full-blown sensory deprivation Blackout warp.

Nothing.

Kade raised his left arm, displaying a leather strap around his wrist. "I picked this up at the flea market. It wasn't cheap, but the seller assured me I'd be safe from all psychic attacks."

"Was it Brad?" I asked, trying not to sound like I was grinding my teeth into powder. Stretched out between the ropes, I could only manage shallow inhales.

"I didn't catch his name."

"On the heavier side, unnatural fear of plant life, willing to sell illegal artifacts to hairless psychotic scum?" I prompted.

Sighing, Kade checked his watch. "I wonder if you're not appreciating the seriousness of your situation, Agent Morris."

Oh, I was. I just didn't want him to get the satisfaction of seeing me squirm. It was the only form of resistance I had.

"What were you hoping for?" I asked sardonically. "Weeping and begging for mercy? Would that do me any good?"

That sick smile returned to his face. "No, it wouldn't."

"Then I might as well have a little fun while I'm here," I sneered. "I loved you in Coneheads, by the way."

He ignored that, still smiling like a bloodthirsty reptile. "I'm going to be very clear with you, Kit. You can make things much easier for both of us if you cooperate. All I want you to do is answer a few questions."

Something told me that while he might start with a few questions, that wouldn't be the end of it.

"Now, I quite enjoy doing things the hard way," he added, "so it's really up to you."

I clenched my jaw.

He leaned forward slightly. "Let's start with an easy question. Do you know what you are?"

That was vague as hell. I was an agent, an orphan, a psycho warper, and the preeminent expert on early 2000s sitcoms. But with my ragged breath and gasping lungs, I couldn't get all of that out of my mouth.

"Fuck you," I spat. "That's what I am."

"Your wit is failing." His smile widened. "This is my favorite part. Let's try another one. Can you explain the process you used to do this?"

He reached into his back pocket and retrieved something. Two somethings, in fact: the broken halves of the handcuffs I'd reality warped when he'd chained Lienna and me to a pipe earlier this year. The abjuration symbols still showed against the plastic, making it excessively implausible to pretend they were regular toy cuffs and not transmuted, formerly metal ones.

"We both know there's more to you than those cute illusions," Kade said softly, watching my face with unblinking intensity.

"I was wondering where I left those," I muttered. Sweat had broken out across my skin, but I wasn't sure if it was from the pain in my muscles or the growing panic in my chest. Or both.

Lienna and I had kept my reality warping a secret, but in our hurry to escape Kade's trap and prevent Darius from taking a quick trip to the mortician's table, we'd left the metal-turned-plastic handcuffs behind.

And Kade had found them. Which meant he knew what I could do. Worse, it meant the Consilium knew that too.

I was beginning to get a much clearer picture of what that Assembly of Assholes wanted from me.

"It was an impressive bit of magic," Kade told me, slipping the cuffs back into his pocket. "However, I wouldn't recommend you try it again."

He gestured at something underneath my chest. I could barely move with the way he'd tied me up, but I managed to crane my neck to look downward.

My blood ran cold.

A forty-five-pound plate was lying flat on the floor below me, and fitted into the hole at its center was a broken metal barbell. Where a flat round end should have been, the sheared metal formed a jagged point.

And it was only inches from my chest.

Whether I used reality warping or some other trick, the moment I freed either my arms or legs, I would fall onto that spear-like point—and my body weight would drive it into my chest. Even if I reality warped the bar instead, I'd still be roped up like a rodeo calf without an ounce of magic to free myself. Whether Kade knew I lost my powers after reality warping or not, he'd come up with a brutal solution to the "effective restraints" challenge I presented.

I looked back at Kade to see his sick smile twisting his mouth.

"There's the fear," he breathed. "Excellent."

Desperation on the edge of panic ricocheted through me, and I slammed every warp I hadn't yet tried into his brain—a Swarm layered on a Funhouse accompanied by a Split Kit with a Creature Feature thrown in for good measure—stubbornly hopeful that something would break through that goddamn protection spell.

But he just kept smiling, unaffected.

"You might think you're special," he continued blandly, "but you're nothing more than an aberration that shouldn't exist."

"Because I've got looks and brains?" I shot back, trying not to sound breathless.

"From where I'm sitting, all I see is a scared little boy with a big mouth."

Maybe he was right. Maybe I was all bark, no bite. Maybe I was so terrified and in such agony that I was on the brink of tears and letting out a wretched, uncontrollable moan.

But I gritted my teeth and swallowed the pain.

"Let's try another question, Kit," he said, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Are you aware that your abilities have changed recently?"

What the hell? How could he possibly know that?

Kade rose from the bench and closed the distance between us, stopping less than a foot from me before crouching so we were at eye level. He stared into my face as though trying to burrow into the recesses of my gray matter.

"I know you've changed." There was no emotion behind his words—no surprise or annoyance or anger or joy—just a monotone statement of fact tinted by the smallest modicum of interest. "I wonder if you've noticed anything."

I couldn't think of a response, and I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I'd groan or gasp or choke.

When I didn't shoot back with a pithy retort, Kade returned to his spot on the bench. "You may not realize it yet, but sooner or later, you'll tell me everything I want to know."

I sucked in a shallow breath. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because you'll soon be meeting a colleague of mine. She's very proficient in the kind of alchemy that turns willpower into obedience. By the time she's finished, you'll do whatever we tell you."

Oh goody. That sounded unambiguously delightful.

Panic was dominating all my thoughts and emotions now, and the pain in my shoulders and knees felt like a thousand white-hot needles had been shoved into my bones. My breathing was growing shakier with each passing moment. I didn't know how much longer I could take it.

"It won't be nearly as much fun for me," Kade added as he checked his watch. "We're out of time. Don't forget I gave you the option of the easy way out. Everything that happens after this was your decision."

Bullshit. I wanted to spit the word at him, but I was panting rapidly and didn't have enough air to speak. Whatever sick shit Kade and his colleagues had planned for me, nothing I said or did would change it.

Kade stood up, straightened his black shirt, rocked his head from side to side to stretch his neck, and turned to walk away.

"Savor these last few minutes of autonomy, Agent Morris," he said over his shoulder. "They'll be the last you ever have."

He crossed the long warehouse and disappeared through a doorway. As soon as he was out of sight, I let all the agony out in a guttural, gasping groan. I sucked in as much oxygen as I could, not caring if it sounded like a ragged sob.

Then I turned my focus inward, doing my damnedest to shut out the pain and panic. I had until Kade returned to escape. Whether it was seconds or minutes, this was my only chance.