LEGACY CHILD

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

            "My thoughts? You have no right to—"

            "Yes, I do," came the reasonable answer. "I don't know what threat you might pose to the Crescent. How do I know you're who you claim to be? Are more like you on the way? Are you a contaminant that will infect those I care about? I don't understand the world you come from, but I've seen it and I'm not sure I like it. With our bond, I can contain and analyze you until I figure out what to do with you."

            "Does Abriel know you're doing this?" he asked with growing horror.

            "It was her idea."

            "That's...barbaric."

            Porter was sure he could hear another eye roll. "If you want barbaric, I can show you a true mind-rape. What I'm doing is tactical good sense. Understand your enemy—if that's what you are. If not, think about this: there are different factions here, just as there are where you come from. If Abriel allows you to blurt your identity to any passerby, imagine the chaos. Just because you think your intentions are noble doesn't mean others will."

            "It isn't for you to judge."

            Keko leaned in, his snout so close to Porter's face, he imagined he could feel the animal's teeth rending through bone. "Listen to me, idiot, because I won't say this again. You'd better thank whatever beings you pray to it was Abriel who found you. She'll listen to you and if she believes you, she'll fight for your cause with her dying breath. If she thinks you're a danger, she'll put you down before you can blink. But whatever she does, she'll be fair and even, and you'll always know where you stand. There are many others who wouldn't do the same."

            Porter slumped back into his pillows, stunned. He'd just been told off, insulted, and put in his place by a dog. Er, shepherd.

"Where's Abriel anyway?"

            "You could find out if you wanted. The bond works both ways."

            That was an unsettling thing to know. "I can read Abriel's thoughts?"

            A gusty sigh rattled through Porter's head. "It may have failed to get your notice, but I'm the telepath. I do all the work, but because we've bonded, we have access to each other's thoughts. You can only communicate through my cooperation. Right now, I'm not cooperating."

            "Then tell me what she's doing now. Is she alright?"

            "No." The thought was a soft echo. "She isn't."

            Porter's mind was thrown open and he saw the inside of a cold, badly-lit cave. He didn't see Abriel, but he had a sense she was there somewhere. Looming to the left was a solidly built-man with dark hair and a nasty glare that could stop Danais in his tracks. In front was a malnourished, tattooed man with a buzz cut. The images were clear and perfectly rendered—almost like he was in the cave with them.

            That's when it hit him: he didn't see Abriel because he was in her head, looking through her eyes. Her thoughts pounded at him—confusion, fear, odd fascination. He could hear her talking, then the two men, then other thoughts in her head not her own. They belonged to the dark-haired man, broadcast by his shepherd on the floor beside him. He could feel the cold in the cell and the darkness, pressing down on him. And the smells—rank, stale, a dozen kinds of putrid making him want to gag. On top of it all, his ankle throbbed, the pain shooting along the length of his leg.

            Porter couldn't follow everything. It was a sensory overload on a level he'd never experienced. It was like living two lives at once—Abriel's and his own. He gasped and gripped the handrails on his bed, forgetting his cast and whacking the plaster.