The Novel Free

Branded by Fire





Riley hugged her to his side. "Yeah, they are." And for the first time, there were no shadows in his eyes when he looked at his sister. It was, Mercy thought, an excellent start. "God," he continued, "I can't believe I used to play horsie for her when she was a little bit." He shook his head. "What games did you play with your brothers?"



"I considered Bas my own personal doll. I used to dress him up in sentinel gear and take him on raids."



Riley laughed and it was such a rich, open sound that her leopard was enchanted. "Dance?" she asked.



He looked down at his cast. "If you don't mind staying in one place."



"If that's pasted up next to you, sounds about perfect to me."



Riley proved adept at balance. And fully capable and willing to hold on to his mate when the going got shaky.



Later that same night, tired but unable to sleep, Sascha went to the safe and took out the Eldridge book.



"Sascha?" Lucas called out. "Come pet me."



"Only if you pet me, too."



The response was quick-fast. "Deal."



Smiling through her trepidation, she walked into the bedroom and lay back against her mate's seated form. "Before we do that, I think it's time we read this." Because this wasn't about her anymore. It was about her baby, too, a child who might be born with his or her mother's gifts.



Lucas ran a hand through her hair and nodded. "Let's do it."



Taking a deep breath, she flipped to the first page of text.



Introduction



The E-Psy, or empaths, as they are called in the vernacular, are something of a peculiarity. The powerful among them can heal the most devastating of emotional wounds. Folklore says they can cure insanity. That has never been proven. What has been proven is that they can certainly help people through difficult emotional times, absorbing negative emotion in a way that defies even psychic explanation.



During the course of my research for this thesis, I was privileged to interview one hundred E-Psy in the greater New York region, of which three were cardinals, twenty were high-range (Gradients 6.5-9.9), thirty-seven were midrange (Gradients 4.0-6.4), and forty were low-range (Gradients 0.1-3.9).



"Lucas, that's a lot of E-Psy in one location. If she got that many for a thesis project . . ."



"Means there were a lot more around in the Net."



Sascha nodded. "Backs up what Faith told us - the NetMind is hiding so many others." Snuggling against him, she continued reading . . . and found Alice Eldridge's thoughts mirroring her own.



E-Psy have never been rare, but not much is known about them, perhaps because we study that which we are afraid of. And no one is afraid of the empaths. After having near-constant contact with them for close to twelve months, I feel it is safe to draw the following conclusion: E-Psy are some of the warmest, most welcoming people on the planet. They are quite delightful companions and are rarely seen alone.



However, it is this very warmth and generosity of spirit that makes the other aspect, or in some cases, expression, of their ability troubling to many. It is the ethical dilemma which disquiets them the most and one I will be focusing on in the second half of this book.



Sascha broke off to look at Lucas. "That doesn't sound good."



"Wasn't it you who told me nothing can ever be black or white?"



She thought about it. "Shades of gray." She nodded. "If I was utterly good, I'd never understand badness."



"On to the next page?"



"Oh, yes."



Riley didn't say a word for several minutes when Mercy mentioned the Kit-Sienna thing sometime in the wee hours of the morning. "That," he murmured at last, "could be a problem."



"That's what I thought."



"We can't do anything about it - they're adults." He ran his hand down her back. "But we can keep an eye on all the players."



"Agreed." A laugh bubbled out of her. "Look at us, in bed and talking Pack business."



A pause. Then, "You make my heart beat, Mercy."



Her heart jumped into his hands all over again. He was so damn calm and he made those statements as if they were facts of life. "Riley."



Kisses on her cheek, along her jaw. "So, how many brat-lets do you want?"



"As many as it takes to drive you insane." Her throat was husky with emotion.



"Then one redheaded little girl should do it."



"I love you." Beyond the mating bond, beyond the sensual draw, she quite simply loved Riley. "More every single day." And she didn't care how sappy that sounded.



A slow, perfect Riley smile. Just for her.

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