Leech Pt 3 Charles didn't grin, didn't even smile though he definitely felt like it.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Lenore. Prague, eh? So that's that?"
"Looks like," the agent shrugged and sighed. "It's no big deal."
Charles sipped his coffee to give himself time to think. He couldn't ask her out now, not right now, the day after she'd split up with Nate. Could he?
"I'm sure there'll be someone else before you know it." Christ! Charles berated himself silently, could he have said anything any lamer?
"Nope," Lenore's face was set, "I'm finished with relationships."
"Oh." The detective blinked, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "That's a shame."
"Like I said, it's no big deal," Lenore smiled bleakly, "and, well, I've had ample evidence I can't spare the time and energy needed to make a relationship work."
"Copper's curse," Charles half-smiled sympathetically, knowing exactly how she felt; he'd had more than one relationship disintegrate because of the all-consuming nature of his work.
"Yeah, anyway - " she straightened up in her chair, "I don't suppose your lot has come up with anything new?"
"Only that it looks like our man hasn't been active outside of London..."
For the next hour the DC and the ex-cop chewed over the meagre scraps of evidence again in one of the small conference rooms in the Agency building. There was no need for these regular 'information sharing' sessions between the Met and the Agency while there was no new information, but neither of them suggested they not meet, for which Charles was heartily grateful. Razor hadn't turned up to any of the meetings over the past two weeks, her partner telling Charles with a chuckle that it was probably for the best, the 'path found this treading back and forth over old ground tedious in the extreme and a bored Razor was no fun to work with.
While they metaphorically banged their heads together over the stalled case, Charles quietly came to a decision; he'd give it a week, then regardless what had happened in the meantime even if she'd gone against her own resolution and started with someone else - he'd ask Lenore out."Hey, Lou, what's up?" Di gently squeezed the young woman's shoulder as she swung into the chair beside her.
"Probably nothing." Louise managed a small smile.
"Bullshit." Di frowned. "Tell me."
"It's Terry - "
"What's he done?"
"Nothing in particular but " Louise's shoulders slumped, " it feels like he's moving away from me. Do you know what I mean?"
Di nodded understandingly.
"Like he's physically there, but that's all?"
"Yes." Louise sniffled, wiping her nose with a crumpled tissue. "If he's going to dump me I just wish he'd get on with it!"
Di hugged her friend tightly.
"Men are shits," she said fervently, "maybe you should dump him first?"
"I've thought about it," Louise whispered into the brunette's shoulder, "but I just - can't. When I'm with him, even lately, it's " she sighed in frustration, "I can't explain it, but I want him, you know, really want him. It's like like a craving that I can't satisfy..."
Unseen by Louise, Di frowned; she'd opened herself up empathically to her friend and didn't like what she was sensing. Louise was torn over Terry; on a very deep level, so deep she probably wasn't aware of it, Louise was scared of her boyfriend and yet she needed him with a compulsion that the empath knew wasn't natural. Ah hell, she wasn't a particularly adept empath, she didn't have the experience to deal with this. Di resolved to speak to Holly, or Greg Mahican, they might be able to suggest something...Terry had been following Di for over a week now, intrigued and fascinated by her to the point of obsession. He didn't know what to do, he still felt some loyalty to Lou but her friend was so... enticing. The brunette was in his thoughts constantly, even when he was with Louise. It may have been Lou he'd been making love to these past few times, but in his mind it was Di clinging to him, panting and trembling, begging him to fuck her... fuck her...
Louise knew something was up, she would've had to be a retard not to realise he was distancing himself from her, and now even the sex was beginning to pall as she became clingy and pathetic. Terry couldn't kid himself anymore, Louise no longer did it for him he was going to have to let her go. It would be better for them both, and then... and then he could pursue Di.
As far as he could tell, Di lived and worked in a large complex of buildings in central London. It didn't advertise itself as such but Terry had quickly deduced it was the Agency's head-quarters. Given the percentage of people with that delicious psionic aroma entering and leaving the building what else could it be? It was common knowledge the Agency looked after it's own but - and this was baffling why didn't Louise live in the Agency building as well? His ex Terry already thought of her as his ex-girlfriend worked in the building but lived some distance away. Didn't the Agency have enough room for all it's people? An intriguing thought, Terry licked his lips, did that mean there were other psionics living in other areas of London?
What was he thinking!
Terry was appalled with himself. When he got together with Di that would be it! He was a one-woman man - period! However... it couldn't hurt, could it, to hunt around for other women psis? Terry wanted nothing more than for he and Di to be happy together for ever but he knew in his heart that would never happen - relationships always went sour no matter how promising the beginning...Charles Lowhall regarded his reflection dispassionately. He was neat, and clean, his clothes were new All right, maybe he wasn't devastatingly handsome but you couldn't call him ugly either. The policeman 'tch'ed' at himself, running a hand nervously over his very short, blonde hair. A week had passed since Lenore had told him she'd split with her last boyfriend, and today he was finally going to ask her out.
Christ on the cross, he was nervous!
What was the worst that could happen? She'd say 'no'? Charles grimaced, if Lenore said 'no' he'd deal with it, and hopefully be able to go back to their easy friendship. If not, then, well too bad, shit happened, at least he'd tried. Couldn't blame him for that.Charles' heart sank when he opened the door to the small conference room and saw Razor sitting across the table from Lenore. Why did the 'path choose today of all days to turn up to the meeting? Charles groaned inwardly, realising he'd stupidly been relying on seeing Lenore alone.
"Are you all right, Charles?" Lenore looked concerned how much of what he was thinking was showing on his face?
"Yeah, fine," he ran a hand over his blonde fuzz and smiled lop-sidedly, "just need a holiday I think."
"Oh, me too," Lenore gusted a sigh. "Wonder what the chances are...?"
"Good morning, Razor," Charles nodded to the 'path, uncomfortably aware of her unblinking gaze. Was she scanning him? Charles hoped not, but then the Agency was very particular about its 'paths not going where they weren't welcome. Whatever, if she was reading him there wasn't anything he could do about it and it wasn't like he'd never been embarrassed before.
"So, is there anything to discuss?" Charles grinned, "Or shall I break out a deck of cards?"No, there had been nothing to discuss, save that one of the pre-cogs had had a hazy vision of someone lost in a dark room with an accompanying sense of grief and loss. Wilma de Winter, Lenore's section head - a pre-cog herself and an ex-field-agent - had passed on that information purely because the pre-cog who reported it said he'd felt like he was being strangled.
"It could be related, but it's so vague." Lenore shook her head in frustration.
"That's the problem with precognition," Razor stated impassively, "often the... visions make no sense until after the fact."
"Well, we'll add it to the mix," Charles sighed, "you never know it might connect with something."
The meeting didn't go for long, only long enough for Charles and Lenore to finish their coffees before reluctantly agreeing they had other things to be getting on with.
Razor had already left, stalking out of the conference room with an air of someone released from an onerous duty. Charles hung back a little, his gut churning in anticipation. Any empaths scanning him now would probably be having a good laugh.
"Hey, Lenore - "
"Hmm?" she looked up from gathering the case notes that had been spread over the table.
"I was wondering " Charles ran his hand over his head again and Lenore suppressed a smile, he'd had that nervous habit for years.
"- if, maybe, you'd like to go out for dinner or something, sometime?"
The agent blinked. Was he asking her out on a date?
"It's okay, you don't have to say yes," Charles said hurriedly.
"I haven't said 'no' yet," Lenore was sharper than she'd intended.
"Oh, right."
Lenore almost smiled. Charles was doing his damnedest to look cool and unconcerned but he'd run his hand over his head again and there was a sort of vulnerability about his soft, grey eyes.
"Sure." Lenore with a smile.
"Great!" Charles looked more surprised than anything, "Say, Thursday night? I'll give you a call and see if we've both still got the night off?"
"That'd be great," Lenore grinned, "but I've really got to go, see you Thursday, with any luck."
Lenore's grin hadn't diminished by the time she'd made it back to her desk. She wasn't entirely sure why she was quite so happy... Ah, what the hell, she could be reading the signals wrong, he might not be asking her out on a date date. And what if he was? Would that be such a bad thing? Charles was honest, a good friend and attractive in an 'everyman' sort of way. Plus they both knew what each other's job entailed, knew just how much time the other spent on it. It wouldn't be like they were walking into this with their eyes closed...
Now hang on a minute she thought crossly to herself only a week ago you'd sworn off relationships completely now here you are contemplating another one without even being sure that's what Charles has in mind. For god's sake, he's only asked you out for dinner, not to move in with him!
But the talking to she gave herself didn't help much, Lenore couldn't shift the silly smile or the hopefulness she felt...Terry had stuck it out for another week but it was no use - his relationship with Louise was over. Tonight he had to end it, quickly and cleanly, and move on. A shiver of anticipation ran through him - and when he was decently finished with Louise he could finally approach Di.
Louise checked the lasagne in the oven, and slid a foil wrapped garlic bread onto the shelf above to heat. She quickly glanced around her bedsit; there was nothing left to be done, everything should be ready by the time Terry got here. Louise crouched on the edge of the couch and absently found a fingernail to chew on, one of the few she hadn't gnawed to the quick. Tonight she was determined she was going to break if off with Terry and get her life back.
She started at the knock on her door, bemused to find herself sitting in the dark. It had still been lightish outside when last she looked. Louise flicked on the light as she opened the door to her boyfriend.
Terry didn't say anything, just looked at her with an infinite tenderness that made Louise's heart thud in her chest. Then he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, the gentle nibbling little kisses she loved and Louise melted against him. She felt her determination sliding away - she couldn't let him go, not when he still made her feel like this.
"Is that lasagne I smell?"
Louise only nodded, her heart too full of love to speak.
"Great," Terry smiled down at her, "let's eat."
It was almost like the first few weeks they'd been together. Terry was attentive and loving, making her laugh with his jokes while teasing her desire higher with sultry looks and small touches. And finally when all the food had been eaten and he'd taken her to bed, Louise was in heaven, loving this man so much she thought she'd die...Amazingly, Thursday night had remained clear for both Charles and Lenore. Charles took this as a good omen as he waited for Lenore in the foyer of the Agency building. It wasn't that he was nervous, precisely, Lenore was hardly an unknown quantity and it wasn't like they'd never eaten together before but there was definitely a different intent to this particular evening.
"Hi!" Lenore had bounced out of the elevator with her customary energy, "Ready to go?"
"Sure," Charles grinned, "OK if I drive?"
The agent smirked and raised an eyebrow.
"If you like..."They'd decided to have dinner at Neurons; the bistro there was superb and it was a nice, relaxed place to go for a first date. Lenore looked good tonight, Charles thought as they relaxed with their pre-dinner drinks in the bar, different, more casual in her jeans and soft, green shirt that matched her eyes. Her hair was down too, which surprised him. Lenore didn't like her hair much, she thought it was too frizzy and mostly kept it back in a pony-tail or a tight plait, but tonight it didn't look frizzy at all. Brushed out, it floated in a soft, blonde cloud that framed her heart-shaped face beautifully. Charles lowered his eyes with a blush when he realised he'd been staring, only to raise them again to check if she really did have freckles or if he'd been imagining it.
"What?" Lenore asked with a grin, Charles was staring at her nose.
"You've got freckles."
The agent burst out laughing.
"Some detective you are!" She briefly, playfully stroked his cheek, "I've had freckles all my life."
"I've never noticed," Charles said ruefully, relishing the contact.
"Just like I've never noticed " Lenore leaned close and peered into his eyes, " that your irises are outlined in a very deep blue, and there's a slight ring of gold around your pupils."
Charles held his breath Lenore's face was inches from his own, closer physically, it seemed, than she'd ever been. It was almost erotic, if the tightening of his groin was any indication. Her skin, Charles noticed, was creamy smooth, her eyelashes long and thick, and noticeably darker than her hair. The urge to kiss her was acute.
Lenore sat back, smiling.
"Shall we go in and order now?"Charles couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a wonderful evening. He and Lenore talked and talked for hours about everything except work, unnoticing of the time passing until he happened to glance at his watch and saw it had gone 1 a.m.
"Damn," Lenore's voice was soft and regretful, "I was enjoying myself."
"Me too," Charles grinned lop-sidedly, "Care to do this again?"
"Yeah," the agent smiled, "I would."Charles dropped her back at the Agency and there was an awkward moment when he paused, hesitant. Should he kiss her goodnight? If he did it would change the timbre of their relationship irrevocably
Lenore, grinning, took the initiative and holding his face in her slender hands she kissed him on the lips, gently and lingeringly. Charles suddenly found himself fervently grateful he wasn't a teenager with an uncontrollable erection anymore.
"Goodnight, Charles," Lenore murmured, leaf-green eyes shining and the barest hint of colour on her cheeks. "I'll see you soon."
He nodded, hoping he didn't look as dazed as he felt and reached up to stroke her cheek.
"Soon." There was a wealth of promise in that word, and Lenore shivered in understanding... and anticipation.Lenore groped toward wakefulness a split-second after de Winter's *summons*. Surely she'd only just closed her eyes...
*Yeah, I'm here,* she peered owlishly at her bedside clock 7 a.m.
*We've got another one.* the section head's *voice* was terse, strained.
Lenore swore viciously, swamped with feelings of helplessness and anger. De Winter didn't need to elaborate, Lenore knew without being told what her boss was talking about. Dammit they were supposed to stop this happening! Lenore went cold at Wilma's next words.
*She's one of ours...*It was a very subdued group who waited for Agent Cassacio outside Louise Marsh's bedsit. No one had been in the room yet, save the medic who'd been on the scene first to confirm the girl was dead - no one wanted to go in.
Di Prince, a friend and workmate of the victim, had tried to contact Louise through the *switchboard* just over half an hour ago. It was a routine the two young woman had - Di always made sure Louise was awake in plenty of time for work and she'd been alarmed when there was no response at all from her friend. Di alerted their boss who'd sent someone to check on Louise immediately, only to find they were too late to be of any help.
"Fuck it!" Maher snarled, "You people are supposed to look after each other!"
At Lenore's side, Razor's ice-blue eyes flashed dangerously.
*Don't say anything,* she cautioned her partner, *Maher's just lashing out. He feels as guilty as we do.*
Razor nodded minutely but continued to glare at the detective; fortunately Maria Cassacio arrived soon after...
Without a word the olive-skinned agent entered the bed-sit Lenore's eyes were drawn helplessly towards the pale, naked body splayed over the rumpled bed and began the ritual. Watching Cassacio's face gave Lenore something else to concentrate on it had been bad enough with the other victims, but this, this, was too close to home.
The psychometrist stood with her eyes closed, reliving the charged emotions permeating the tiny dwelling, all of them nauseatingly familiar from the other murder sites. Cassacio turned to the corpse then, stripped off a leather glove and gently placed her fingertips against the cold forehead and frowned.
"Jesus!" she exclaimed suddenly, hazel-eyes wide and shocked, snatching her hand back and compulsively wiping it against her skirt as if something nasty had stuck to her flesh.
"What?!" Lenore demanded, heartbeat racing.
"She's not dead!" Cassacio looked ill.
"What? That's not possible," the medic was still there, "she's been cold for a couple of hours at least "
"Her body's dead - she's still in there!" the psychometrist was backing away, a look of chill horror on her face. "Jesus..."
*Are you sure?* Razor darted towards the bed as she *snapped* her inquiry at the shaken and pale agent.
*If she was dead I'd be able to 'read' her, but I can't so she must still be alive.* Cassacio *whispered*, never taking her eyes off the victim. *But that shouldn't be possible...*
*Baxter, I need you to anchor me,* Razor bluntly informed her partner as she knelt beside the body.
*Sure.* the flatscan's *voice* was barely audible but she held fast as the 'path mentally did something to reinforce their private telepathic channel. She went rigid as Razor *dove* into icy-blackness...Dark, so dark there was nothing.
Razor extended her senses as far as she was able, searching for... she had no idea what, this was a novel situation for her. And then she caught it, the merest soundless *sound*. The 'path plunged towards it, further down and down into a void.*...helpmehelpmehelpmehelpme...*
Razor swallowed, grimly summoning her reserves to push through the cloying blackness towards the feeble wailing it was getting weaker until suddenly she was there, staring at a tiny presence, alone and terrified, curled in on itself.
*Louise?* Razor approached cautiously and the presence froze.
*Louise?* she asked again and what was left of the young girl trembled. There was nothing physical to discern of course, but Razor got the impression of wide, blue eyes that blazed with delirious terror.
*He killed me!* Louise keened her bewilderment at the betrayal.
*Who did?* Razor urged.
*Terry!* she sobbed, *Terry!*
Razor thought furiously the girl might be able to tell her something that could help them catch her killer. The 'path hurriedly dredged up memories of her partner's interviewing techniques.
*Louise,* Razor coaxed as best she could, *tell me about Terry.*
*I loved him and he killed me!* Louise's *screech* made Razor wince but she persisted.
*Tell me about him. It's important, Louise.*
Louise's sobbing whimpers ceased abruptly.
*He wants Di,* she *whispered*, *I know...*
*How do you know?* Razor despaired of getting anything useful, the girl had obviously been driven insane.
*I read him as he was killing me.* Louise raged suddenly. *All this fucking time trying to learn how to be a telepath only to have it work when I'm fucking DYING!!*
Razor's hope surged and she *reached* for the girl.
*Show me what you saw!*
Louise keened again, *hurling* a jumble of images at the psi who foundered under the weight......Terry, her love, his head silhouetted by the light behind him as he thrust into her, making her cry with happiness...
.... her killer, his hands about her throat, squeezing, and the weird awareness of the empty space created by her life draining away being filled up with his memories...
... Terry as a child ...
... his previous girlfriends ...
... his dingy, damp squat...
... his hunger for Di...
More and more and more of Terry's, (and Louise's the girl was making no distinction about what she was feeding Razor) life and memories until Razor felt she'd be subsumed by them both. In self-defence she shut down conscious thought and just blankly absorbed it all.Razor came back to herself to find Louise's essence surrounded protectively by her own. The girl was sobbing brokenly.
*... don't want to die... don't want to die...*
Razor swallowed, overcome with helpless anguish. Hers or Louise's? She couldn't tell. She folded herself gently, even more closely around the girl.
*You've your body's been dead for too long, we can't revive you.*
*What's going to happen to me?*
*I don't know,* Razor answered truthfully, *but *
*It's all right, Louise,* Razor started, it was her voice... but Lenore's words; her partner was *there* with them, *just relax, honey, everything's going to be all right.*
*How? How is it going to be all right?!* Louise screamed, frantic and distressed.
*Shhh, Louise, relax... relax...*
**What are you doing, Baxter?** Razor demanded *privately* of her partner.
There was a moments silence before Lenore replied.
**To be honest, I'm not sure, but we can't leave her trapped here in her corpse.** Razor could feel the flatscan thinking. **Oh shit, of course!**
*Listen to me, Louise,* Lenore turned her attention back to the hysterical girl, *Di is perfectly safe you've saved her.*
*I what?* Louise broke off mid-scream, confused.
*Di is safe. With the information you took from Terry we can protect her from him.*
*P-promise?* Louise's *voice* trembled, like a heart-broken child.
*I promise. We'll look after her, you don't have to worry any more.*
*Oh - * a shuddering sigh, *- okay.*
**Razor, ease up around her,** Lenore said urgently to the 'path. Razor frowned and pulled back a little from her stranglehold on the girl's essence.
*You've done very, very well, Louise,* Razor found herself with an ache in her throat at the gentleness in her partner's *voice*, *you can rest now.*
*I-I'd like that,* Louise's presence began to thin out imperceptibly, *...so tired...*
*Shhh, rest now, Louise, you've earned it.*
*Yes...yes...*
The girl slipped away, silently and easily, like a wisp of mist on the breeze leaving Razor with an aching emptiness inside her that she couldn't comprehend.
*Are you all right?* Lenore sounded softly in the 'path's mind.
*Yes.* Razor said irritably, discomfited at the flatscan's perception. *Why shouldn't I be?*
*Let's get back,* Lenore sounded tired, *and finish the job.*
Razor swum quickly back to the surface, resolutely shoving all the... weakness she'd felt back safely behind her impervious wall of ice...Epilogue:
"Fascinating." Nicola Horn, the psychologist and empath, stood in the small, dark room with Lenore, Razor and Charles Lowhall, watching Terry through the one-way mirror.
Lenore arched an eyebrow at the tall woman.
"'Fascinating'? He's a psycho."
"Sociopath, to be more accurate," Nicola fleetingly grinned at the agent before turning back to her latest subject.
"He's so young," Charles frowned, "the images Cassacio got from his victims were all older."
"An older version of himself," Nicola nodded her head, "how Terry sees himself in relation to the world is... fascinating."With Louise's knowledge Terry had been found and arrested within an hour of his last victim's final - death. The boy it transpired he was only sixteen had been surprised and bewildered at his arrest. Yes, he'd known all the women they asked him about and yes he'd killed them all but that was the only way, in his opinion, to end a relationship decisively, painlessly...
Lenore studied the youth as he talked animatedly to another, non-psionic psychologist; it was easy to see the older Terry in his face and mannerisms.
"Did he know the image he was projecting?" she asked Nicola.
"We're not sure," the woman frowned, "we're not sure how much, exactly, he realises about himself. He understands, for instance, he can will himself 'invisible' to people but he doesn't know how he does it."
Terry had provoked a lot of excitement within certain sections of the Agency; the kid had a bizarre, eclectic mix of talents that he used subconsciously. Along with a twisted kind of Tracker sense, he had both a projecting and receiving empathic ability, the capacity for detailed mental illusions that affected all of his target's senses plus and this was what caused the most interest a personal 'null' field he could use at will to render himself undetectable to everyone, flatscans and psis.
"What's going to happen to him?" Charles asked.
Nicola pursed her lips.
"My initial diagnosis is that he's not mentally fit to stand trial "
Both Charles and Lenore made sounds of disgust.
" and it's unlikely he'll be of any use to us in the field. His... problems are very deeply rooted, we're not going to be able to go in and fix them without risk of permanent, severe brain damage."
"So, now what?" Charles asked.
"He'll be fitted with an inhibitor and we'll keep him under guard here. There's no way we can release him into the community." Nicola sighed. "A pity, his range of abilities could've been very useful."
"Why not eliminate him?" Razor growled, "If he's no use to anyone?"
The 'path had stayed icily silent at the rear of the observation room. The psychologist swung round to face her.
"Because we can study him. Finding out how he works will help our overall knowledge of psionics."
Razor half-smirked coldly.
"The inhibitor will likely cause him to have a melt-down within a few years, then he won't be anyone's problem anymore."
"Possibly," Nicola said reluctantly, "it has been known to happen..."
Lenore shuddered, she'd read the case-files of psis who'd 'adapted poorly' to the cerebral inhibitors their brains had slowly fried from the inside as their talents tried to forge new neural pathways. When that happened, the hapless psi didn't have long before they descended into a vegetative state, dying soon after.
Charles sighed heavily.
"Well, looks like this particular nightmare is over at least. I better get back to the rest of the nightmares." he smiled lop-sidedly at Lenore. "Dinner?"
"Yeah, thanks," she smiled back at him, "see you in " she glanced at her watch, surprised to find it wasn't yet midday; strange, the day had felt so much longer, " seven hours or so?"
"Sure," Charles briefly touched her elbow, grey eyes shining warm. The detective nodded politely to Nicola and Razor.
"I'll, um, walk you out, okay?" Lenore offered with a trace of bashfulness that raised a tiny smile on the watching empath's face."Razor," Nicola murmured to the 'path once they were alone, "I think you should talk to someone about what happened today."
"No." The look she gave the psychologist was disdainful. "I don't need any 'help'."
That's what you think Nicola made the observation silently you're strung so tight it's making my eyes water.
"Very well," she said aloud, "but I'm officially giving you leave of absence for the rest of the day." She held up her hand at the 'path's furious look, "Don't argue, Anderson, or I'll make it a week."
Razor growled but acquiesced petulantly. Bloody head-doctors thought they knew everything if Horn didn't effectively outrank her in this instance she'd have no qualms about putting a psi-knife in the bitch's brain and
Razor pulled herself up short, alarmed by her lack of restraint. The empath had noticed of course, she'd gone pale and her mouth was a tight line cutting across her face.
"Ask Angel if she can get some time off today." Nicola suggested softly. Razor nodded curtly, relaxing minutely at the mention of her lover.
"Sorry." Razor mumbled, not looking directly at the psychologist.
"It's fine." Nicola answered, hiding her surprise at the 'path's highly uncharacteristic - apology. Razor did look at her then and for the briefest instant Nicola thought she sensed a desperate ache in the telepath, quickly masked. Razor nodded curtly then stalked out of the darkened room.
Nicola let out a shuddering breath, admitting to herself that Razor had scared her for a moment or two. Whatever she'd experienced today had shaken the 'path's normally rigid control; the naked violence Nicola'd felt directed at her had made her heart pound in her chest.
Why can't you ask for help, Razor?
Nicola turned back to her clinical observation of Terry, putting the telepath firmly out of her mind...
© 2003 June 20th Lutra
Darkside
© 2003 Wordwrights