Chapter Three

QUINN

I wanted to scream. My body wouldn't obey me. I couldn't move, but I was aware of everything happening around me. The pain in my neck spread down my torso, past my thighs, and all the way down to my toes. I didn't know what drug they used on me. I just knew it hurt, and I couldn't move or open my eyes.

"Pick her up and let's get out of here. Nobody inside noticed her collapse."

"What about the old man in the car?"

"Michael's covering him."

I felt someone pick me up and toss me over their shoulder.

Since they hadn't mentioned Dad again, I assumed he was still in the car. That was a bright spot. I didn't want him risking his life for me. I realized now that it was bad enough when I dragged him into my mess with the Sons of the Heavenly Father. I was a grown woman. I should have handled it on my own and left my Dad out of it.

But that was a moot point right now. I had bigger things to worry about, like how to avoid being their next victim.

If they took me away, they were going to kill me. I wondered how they would do it. Burn me, probably. At the stake. It would be funny if I weren't going to die. I couldn't do anything to stop it. I had to see what was going to happen. I could try to save myself when I had control of my body again.

Unless they never let you wake up.

The thought was chilling, and I hadn't considered it before. What if they had drugged me enough to keep me conscious but unable to fight back. And what if they were going to tie me to a stake and burn me alive?

I began to panic. As different thoughts raced through my mind, I felt trapped, and I knew I would make myself crazy. I need to calm down. But what could I do?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

I felt frustration and anger rising in me. The futility of my wasted life hit me like a slap in the face. I realized I had spent over half of my life hiding, and I hadn't truly lived at all.

Now I was going to die.

Rage filled me, and my face began to get hot. Maybe blood was rushing to my head from being carried upside-down.

"Hey, man. There's something wrong with her," the man holding me said, stopping suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"Feel her skin."

Someone touched my hand.

"It's hot. She feels like she's on fire."

"Maybe the witch is sick."

"She won't be sick for long. Don't worry about it. Just keep carrying her. We're almost to the car. When we get where we're going, she's not going to worry about having a fever."

I should have been afraid, I suppose. But I wasn't. I was pissed. I couldn't believe this was happening to me. I felt like I was going to boil over with rage, especially since I couldn't unleash my fury on anyone.

"Something weird's going on, Rick. She's sweltering."

"You can't handle a girl all by yourself? Give her to me."

I felt them transfer me, and I got madder and madder. I was little more than an object to these punks.

"You're right. She's scorching hot."

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. In my mind, I screamed my frustration. My voice never made a sound, but I knew the energy went somewhere.

"She's burning me!" I felt someone drop me on the ground. "I can't carry her like this."

I could feel the night air against the skin of my hands. It didn't feel cold at all. Someone touched my hand.

"Ow! Look at this, Rick. My skin is smoking."

"She is a witch. Here come the cops. We'll have to come back for her another time."

"No way, man. I'm not coming back. They can send a lone assassin to kill her. I'm not risking my life to deal with a real witch."

I heard their footsteps moving away from me. Doors slammed. A vehicle's tires squealed as it sped away.

Some time later I heard my Dad's voice. "Here she is."

I wanted to warn him that something weird was happening, and he shouldn't touch me. I still couldn't move. When he picked me up, he didn't complain about me being hot, or anything like that.

Weird.

I was carried back in an unknown direction. I hoped I was back in my Dad's car. After a long time, my Dad spoke again.

"Phillip, thank God. Please help me carry her in." Phillip was Dad's best friend.

"Justin, what happened?"

"Someone attacked us. No, that's not right. Someone attacked her. I was tied up. That's why I couldn't reach her in time. They drugged her, and she's knocked out."

Not knocked out, I wanted to say, but my body was still unresponsive.

"But what happened?" Phillip asked as they laid me down on the couch. We were probably at Phillip's apartment.

I listened as Dad told our entire story again. Right after they shot me with a dart, another member of their group had tied Dad up in the car. Someone from the police station came out when they saw what was happening on the video feed. They drove off before the police could arrest them. The cops were still searching for my attackers. Dad had taken me to the hospital. They ran tests on me, but the doctor said I wasn't in any danger and just needed to sleep the drug off.

I felt Dad tucking me in with a blanket. Phillip suggested they let me sleep. When they went into the kitchen, I couldn't hear any more. Knowing that I was safe, I let myself fall asleep.

The next morning, my mind felt normal when I woke up. My body felt like I had run a marathon yesterday without any training. My muscles ached, and my movements were leaden. I sat up on the couch but didn't have the nerve to go any farther. While I was still sitting there, trying to find the courage to get off the couch, my father entered.

"Quinn! I'm so glad you're okay. How do you feel? Can you move at all? Does it hurt?"

I put my hand to my neck and felt a bandage where the dart pierced my skin.

"I'm okay, Dad. It's all right. Don't worry. I can move. I'm just sore. I know everything that happened last night."

"I thought you were knocked out," he said, looking puzzled.

"Someone hit me with a dart in the neck. My body felt like it was knocked out, and I looked out of it, but I was still conscious."

"Do you know why they left you?"

I dropped my eyes. "I have an idea."

"What, Quinn? What is it?"

"I think it had something to do with my visions."

"Your visions. What do you mean? Wasn't that why they wanted to take you?"

"I was getting angry. I was furious I was going to die because of these stupid, bigoted jerks. I felt myself getting hot…"

"Like a fever?"

"At first I thought my face was feeling hot because I was in an awkward position. But then something odd happened."

My dad looked at me. He was interested in what I had to say but wasn't judging me.

"I started burning them."

My dad stared at me. "That sounds like an extraordinary gift."

"I know. It was like all my anger converted into heat. They got scared, and then the cops showed up."

"My goodness, Quinn."

"I'm even more of a freak than we thought."

He sighed. "You have to leave Earth," he said slowly. His head and shoulders slumped forward.

"What?" I said, glancing up sharply. "I'm not going away."

"Yes, Quinn. You are. It's too dangerous."

"But you need me. And we can't afford it. And I can't leave." The thought filled me with fear and anguish. I had never considered leaving our home planet or my dad. He was my only family. I had never separated from him.

"You can and you will," he said. "Something broke inside me when I saw those men attack you. If they hurt you or kill you, I will never forgive myself. I've been trying to protect you and your gift for years. I've failed."

"You have taken good care of me, Dad."

He held up his hand.

"No, I haven't, Quinn. It's been a terrible life. I want better for you."

I stared at him with tears in my eyes. He had never spoken to me so insistently or so firmly. I knew he meant what he said.

"Even if I agreed with you, how would I do it?"

"Phillip has heard about a company called TerraMates. They can get you out of here, and you'll get some money. Best of all, it's only for a year."

"What's only for a year?" I said, feeling suspicious. "Hang on a second. It's called TerraMates? As in..." I trailed off, not wanting to put my suspicion into words.

My father looked uncomfortable and nodded.

"It's a mail-order bride company. They arrange marriages to aliens. That's how we'll move you off the planet."

"We are not to be used as an escape from Earth, Miss Maloney. I hope you understand that," said Mrs. Lynch, the owner of TerraMates. She looked at me slightly disapprovingly, tapping her well-manicured fingernail on the desk. I was filling out some forms, and she was reviewing my answers.

I looked up from the computer. I had to supply an endless amount of information about myself and the qualities I looked for in a mate. In the 'other' box, I had made sure to check 'must be tolerant of mental abilities'.

"Of course not," I said, feeling my guts clench but looking her straight in the eye. "Why would you think I was doing that?"

"You must admit, Miss Maloney, that your behavior looks suspicious."

"I don't admit any such thing. I'm excited to be going off-world, of course. But it's because I'm curious to meet my husband and learn about an alien culture. I wouldn't have even mentioned the Sons of the Heavenly Father. There was a question about my interactions with the law and I thought it meant..."

"The wording is 'problems'. You didn't have an issue with the law. The people who attacked you did."

"Right. Yes, I suppose."

"I see your altercation happened quite recently. Which is why I will repeat myself. We are not for escaping."

"And I'm not using you that way. I honestly have a desire to travel, and I'm getting older, Mrs. Lynch. It's time I put down some roots." All true enough, though maybe not in the way she interpreted them.

She stared at me. I calmly gazed back. I wouldn't flinch. I was not going to be intimidated by her iron gray coiffeur, power suit, and hawk-like gaze. I thought I was going to have to look away, but to my surprise, she glanced down at her computer first.

An unexpected feeling of relief and victory shot through me. I guessed Mrs. Lynch didn't let many people stare her down. I smiled a little and kept filling in the form.

"Of course, as you would have read in the contract, you do not have to have sexual intercourse with your husband, unless both of you decide you want to."

I nodded. I wasn't going to be a whore. This idea was bad enough. I didn't need to prostitute myself as well.

"There will be periodic check-ups to confirm everything is going well, and there is no abuse on either side. We will send your credits as soon as we receive validation of your marriage certificate. If you wish to divorce after a year, you have only to contact us. We will assist with the process."

"Is there a long wait to get the divorce?" I said. I wondered if I would have to stay married for much longer than a year.

She looked surprised by my question. "No, dear. We don't get many wives coming back and asking for a divorce."

"Are you serious?" I said, my voice incredulous. "I don't believe it."

"Miss Maloney, we run an excellent service here. To the best of our abilities, women are matched with their perfect mates."

I laughed at her hubris.

"Can you predict true love?" I said. My voice had a mocking tone, but part of me thought about my ability to see the future. If I could predict what could happen, why couldn't they?

"That is unnecessary. We have extremely sophisticated matching algorithms. In general, the women who come here are not looking for true love." She had a way of speaking that made her words drip with condescension. "They are looking for a good man who can provide them with companionship and financial support. The women who come to us are practical, Miss Maloney. We have a 2 percent divorce rate."

2 percent? I didn't believe it. But if she was lying, she wasn't going to change her story if I asked her about it. And if she wasn't...Well, that didn't make sense to me. Why wouldn't the women put in their time, grab their money, file for divorce and move on with their life?

Mrs. Lynch sighed.

"Based on the surveys that are filled out by the women who stay married..." She stared at a report but then looked up and met my eyes. "97 percent say they have come to love their husbands, Miss Maloney."

I rolled my eyes. I wasn't going to love mine. I would put in my year, get the money to send back to Dad, and get a divorce. As soon as my tour of duty was over I was going to find my real true love. I would track him down and save both of us from death by a tree. I had a vague sense of how far into the future events would happen. The vision felt like about a year from now. I had time.

I had never been able to save anyone from my visions before, but I had not tried as hard as I could. This time, I was going to do it. He was the man I would love. I was not going to let him die.