ShiftingHeat (10 page)

Ann shrugged. “Multiple times.”

“Why would we want that?” Andros sounded puzzled rather than
angry, as he had every right to be.

“So they could show their strength, demonstrate their power.
STORM wants to control Talents. That’s what he said, what the papers said,” she
insisted.

Ann regarded her coolly, her previous anger with her team
gone or shelved for now. “Not precisely. We’re here for the protection and
support of Talents, as we always have been. Not for their aggrandizement. We
hold no political views, only advocate the best interests of the people we
serve.”

Faye had heard Ann say that before to the media and she’d
thought it just a meaningless policy statement. But hearing it in this room,
spoken with such calm certainty, she began to wonder if she’d been wrong. “I
don’t know what to believe anymore. I just don’t. And I can’t help you until
I’m sure. I won’t make a mistake again, and I want proof that you’re telling me
the truth. All I know is that you sent agents out to feed me a security clearance
that night so that I could rescue Harken. I don’t know why.”

Ann gave a grim smile. “That’s better. Believe what you see,
what you feel. For a start, if you try to break someone out of a high-security
establishment and it all goes very, very well, don’t assume it’s your
excellence. It might be, but then again, it might not. And if you want to think
about world domination, don’t assume it’s Talents who want it.”

The blonde spoke. “Nordheim’s a Sorcerer, I’m sure of it. I
had little contact with him before he closed down on me, but I got that much.”

“Did he interfere with Faye’s mind?” Ann demanded.

Serena lifted her hand in a graceful gesture, pushing a wisp
of hair back from her forehead. An elaborate jeweled watch glinted on her
wrist, so unlike the rest of her plain, ordered clothes that Faye noticed it
immediately. Distracted, she dragged herself back to the present.

“I can’t detect any, though I would like to examine her in
an iso room just to make sure.”

Sorcerers lived mortal lifespans but had staggering, off-the-scale
psi senses. Harken could have done it, spread a compulsion in her to believe
him and disbelieve anyone else. It would have changed her mind, made it easier
for him to control her. And the rest of his followers, Faye realized. Her
stomach dipped, nausea making its presence felt.

“No,” Andros said at once. “She’s been through too much.
I’ll vouch for her. She’ll stay with me while she’s in the building, won’t go
anywhere without me.”

Andros ignored Nick’s grunt of disapproval and kept his
attention focused on his boss. She jerked a nod. “That’s acceptable. Your
reputation depends on hers. And she doesn’t have your security clearance.”

Ann motioned to the Sorcerer, who passed her the coffeepot
from the other end of the table. Ann had already finished the contents of the
pot set at her end. She poured herself another coffee and glanced around to see
if anyone wanted any. Nobody did. If Faye drank that amount of coffee all the
time, she’d be a complete nervous wreck. “Nordheim played on you, told you what
you were most likely to believe.” Ann poured herself a cupful of the thick,
strong brew. “He reinforced your natural inclinations. Skillfully. While he might
not have planted compulsions, he would only have to persuade.”

“Like a stage magician pretending to mind read,” she said
numbly.

“The same kind of tricks, reinforced with telepathy,” Ann
agreed.

So cold-blooded. But now she thought about it, really
thought, Faye knew it was possible. She’d spent long hours with Harken,
discussing the state of the world. He could have nudged her thinking in a
certain direction, helped her to believe what her natural inclinations led her
to.

And he’d held an attraction for her too. She’d let him in, let
down her guard.

Sitting across the table from them, Ann nodded. “If you want
to work with us, that’s acceptable for now. I’d prefer it if you had a proper scan,
as all agents do, and let Serena read you thoroughly. Let me know when you’re
ready for that. If you are prepared to keep quiet but don’t want to work with
us, you can leave now, after you’ve allowed Serena to set up a block to you
telling anyone. We won’t track you. Just don’t feel stupid. It could have
happened to any of us. Once a Sorcerer of that power has his claws into you,
nobody can resist for long.” Her mouth flattened. “I think he’s even more
dangerous than we assumed. We need to get him back.”

Before she could censor herself, Faye made her protest. “You
won’t hurt him?” She recalled the sickening thud when she’d struck Serena and
the blow she’d landed on the security guard. Even if they were set up to
provide false resistance, she’d still hurt them and she didn’t want to cause
anyone any pain.

“I can’t promise that.” Ann glanced at a slim folder in
front of her and pushed it across the table. “He’s hurt far more people than
you know.” She took a deep breath, the single gold chain she wore around her
neck glittering in the harsh light. “Know that if you read the contents of this
file and refuse to help us, we’ll detain you until the mission is complete or
ask you to undergo a procedure with Serena that will prevent you talking about
what you’re about to see. This file contains the reasons why we wanted him.”

Faye had to know. “Okay, I’ll read them. I agree to your
terms.”

Ann sighed. “Professor Nordheim used his Sorcerer skills and
his cover as a protector of the rights of Talents to take them to illegal
laboratories. He found easy pickings at the university and spread his
activities outward. We think there are more people involved in his activities
and we want them too, which is why we wanted him to get away, hoping he’d go
straight to them. We’ve sent a unit to take the people who were with him today,
so the mission may well be over. Read and believe.”

There was good money in the illegal laboratories. Hidden all
over the world, their agents took Talents and cut them up, dissected them. All
to gain valuable assets—the power to heal, longevity, the ability to transform
into something far more powerful and terrifying than their human form. Selling
cures for cancer or muscular dystrophy, selling the elixir of life, selling the
added strength and power of a shape-shifter, all had the potential of making
vast profits.

So far none had worked, though the labs had produced
terrifying hybrids in their attempts to mold the different types of human
together. There shouldn’t be hybrids. People were either Talents or they
weren’t. No in-betweens. But until they found their cures, the labs made money
by forcing Talents to convert others.

Numbly, Faye opened the folder and read. After the first few
pages she realized there were no doubts. This was truth.

Harken, a man she’d considered her friend and ally, had put
Talents there. For money. She couldn’t deny the evidence she saw and she
doubted anyone would manufacture such a plethora of reports from the different
government agencies just to fool her. Or that they could. She picked up an FBI
document showing the discovery of an illegal laboratory in the Nevada desert,
with accompanying photographs. Faye forced herself to look at the dreadful
pictures of dead bodies and tortured Talents, wires and tubes coming out of
them, their limbs and bodies half dissected, not allowed to change and to heal.
She stared into the eyes of a shape-shifter, his head and upper body still
human, his lower body that of a horse. A pegasus. So rare, and these people
were taking him apart.

Horrible. But Faye forced herself to study every one.
Because she was partly responsible for this. She’d enabled him, supported
Harken while he plied his dreadful trade. If he stayed at liberty because of
her actions, she’d never forgive herself. Never.

The next picture showed someone she knew. She’d helped this
boy escape an intolerable situation in New York. When he’d come into his Talent
at puberty, his parents had abandoned him. Packed up and moved. Until that
moment he’d thought he was their son but they’d adopted him, not knowing what
he was. On his own, he’d shape-shifted in public and nearly lost his life when
a crowd had mobbed him. Confused, he’d staggered about the streets and
eventually settled as a beggar, terrified when he shape-shifted every month.
Faye had discovered him and spirited him to what she thought was safety with
the help of Professor Nordheim, who’d promised to ensure the boy reached
safety. Friends in San Francisco, he’d said. Only she had to see this now.

Tears sprang to her eyes. Before this she had kept her
composure, but the sight of what they had done to this boy forced her into realization,
facing the horror she’d helped to cause. The boy had no life, none at all, and
she’d help to achieve it. But she had to be sure. “You have proof that the
professor is involved.” Her voice shook. She couldn’t believe it, her mind
chasing to catch up with the evidence before her eyes.

Andros covered her hand with his. She unclenched her fist
and let it lie passively, encompassed by his warmth. His sympathy gave her some
comfort, but not much. “Yes, of course you do. I’m sorry, I’m finding all this
difficult.”

The only sound in the room came when she turned pages. She
read it all, uncaring whether she kept them waiting or not. Looked at every
picture, every horrific scene. Then she saw the surveillance photographs of
Professor Nordheim.

She had to consider the possibility that the photos and files
were faked. It would have taken a lot of work, and for what purpose? For what
reason? To fool her? She didn’t think so. All they had to do was capture her,
restrain her until they’d taken the professor off the map as they said they’d
do now. Much easier than this. Especially considering her limited abilities in
the espionage arena.

She slumped, her head between her hands, willing the tears
back. “I’m sorry.”

Ann’s voice dropped into the still room. “He’s fooled a lot
of people. He spreads disinformation and he only captures the Talents who won’t
be missed right away. He has helped a couple, but only to maintain his cover.”

“I should have killed the fucker,” Nick Ivy said. Nobody
disagreed.

Ann continued, relentlessly exposing Harken Nordheim. “If
Talents are classed as nonhuman, the next step is to class them as animals.
Then the laboratories can take any they please. Harken’s efforts are all show,
noise without substance. It’s a cover.”

“It’s nonsense, that animal thing. It’ll never happen.”
Andros’ dismissal showed, for once, his extreme youth as a Talent. It happened,
and had for a long time.

Faye said what needed to be said. “Banning alcohol was
nonsense. So was allowing mortals to enslave each other. All we need to do is
not to do anything. Just let them do it, smiling our disbelief.” Like she’d
done.

Andros grunted. “In any case, someone has to stop this
lowlife. I’m in.”

“Yes. Me too,” Faye said.

Ann nodded and Faye suspected she’d expected nothing less.
Somehow it came as comfort to her wounded soul, that Ann had expected her to do
the right thing, to help redress the wrong she’d made, however unwittingly. “We’ve
had people in place at the university for months. None of them got as close as
you did to Professor Nordheim, Faye. You have the perfect cover. Andros, I’m
sending you back in with Faye to discover the rest, if there is any rest to
discover. But I want this nest of vipers cleaned out, completely gone. I want
Nordheim back and then, hopefully, that’s the end of that vat of poison. You go
in as you were today.”

Andros’ head went back against his chair with a soft thud.
“As a cripple?”

“As a disabled student. We couldn’t ask for better cover,
because you’re going in as yourself. They never knew about your conversion.
That will give you a huge advantage.” Ann frowned at Faye. “I want your word
that you’ll do as you’re told. If you feel out of your depth or in danger, you
broadcast and we’ll send help. Andros will be going in as himself, Serena has a
post as a temporary lecturer in the professor’s department and Nick will back
you up. If you need him to come in, he’ll act as Serena’s boyfriend. I want
this man stopped and I want it done discreetly.”

“Can you strip his mind once you have Nordheim?” Faye didn’t
care what happened to him anymore. Not after finding out what he’d done to
others. If it had merely been manipulation, selfish use of people for his own
ends, then she wouldn’t have been so concerned. After all, it was her own
stupid fault that she’d believed him. But he’d caused suffering and death—for
money.

“It’s a last resort,” Serena said. She’d hardly moved at
all, just observed with that uncanny stillness virgin Sorcerers sometimes had.
“In any case, he probably has a self-destruct bomb set. We’re finding more and
more of them these days.” At Faye’s raised brow, she explained. “It’s like a
suicide bomb. If a Sorcerer trips a mental trigger, it will detonate. Like an
atom bomb, but of the mind. It wipes the mind of the person concerned and the
Sorcerer who is questioning. And if it’s done outside an iso room, anyone in
the vicinity, also.”

“For now,” Ann said, “I want Nordheim stopped, and anyone in
transit recovered. I want extreme discretion used, so that I can put an agent
into the operation in deep cover. Clear?”

In this place, Faye was learning, Ann’s decisions were final.
She swallowed. “I’m so sorry. I wish I’d realized sooner.”

“Make amends,” Ann told her. “Make a difference.”

* * * * *

Back in the privacy of his apartment, Andros could finally
give Faye the comfort he’d yearned to all the time he’d listened and learned
about the professor’s activities. He put his arm around her shoulders. “We’ll
get out of this. We’ll do okay.”

She shuddered and turned into the shelter of his body. “I
shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have gotten him out. I really thought—how
stupid am I?”