Page 69 of Sin

I shrugged a shoulder. “Right after joining the team. And… today.”

London tensed. “She attacked you?”

“No! No,” I said again. “I asked her to practice. Today.” I avoided London’s angry gaze. “Don’t get mad at her. I asked her.”

“She should have said no.”

“She didn’t know any of this,” I said, pointing at the scans.

“But she knew you were still recovering from a fucking stroke,” London seethed.

“She knew I was coming to be healed. I wasn’t going to die from a little mental practice.”

London didn’t look impressed. “It was irresponsible, Sin, and you know it.”

Mend glanced between us, raising his hands placatingly. “Sin is all right. I’ll make sure he leaves today as healthy as ever.” He turned to me, one eyebrow slightly cocked. “But London is right. Pushing yourself after such a serious injury was reckless.”

I looked away. “Probably. I just… I just wanted to know if they could hold up. I needed… I just needed to know…” I drifted off because I didn’t know how to put my thoughts into words. I hadn’t been thinking of it as reckless. But seeing the scans now, really thinking about it, I knew testing things out with Mare earlier was a poor decision.

“Well,” Mend continued, “when someone with psychic abilities forces their way into a non-psychic person’s head, it’s easier because those without psychic abilities don’t have natural mental defenses. Their minds don’t usually put up much of a fight. But because psychics naturally have mental shields to help ward off other psychic intrusions, it would take someone with psychic powers a lot more work and energy to break through those shields.

“But say, for example, if someone with psychic abilities were to try to force their way into another psychic’s head, and that person tried to fight off the invasion, the brain, unable to tell reality and fiction, would likely think it’s under attack. While there wouldn’t be any physical injury, the brain would struggle to differentiate the pain from physical and mental, and therefore, it would try to heal the injury in the only way it knows how.”

London must have caught on before me because he whispered, “It tries to clot the injury.” He studied the scans again, gripping the edge of the desk so hard that his fingers paled. “You’re saying these clots are the cause of two psychic abilities fighting?”

“Potentially,” Mend agreed. “Though, I admit, I’ve never seen it happen to this magnitude. I don’t need you to tell me the details of your case to know that Sin was attacked by an extremely strong Super with psychic abilities.” He met my wide eyes. “He’s lucky to be alive right now.”

“Then when I practiced with Mare… Did it cause damage? For both of us?”

Mend was already shaking his head. “Highly doubtful.”

“Why not?”

“This only happens when one psychic Super transports their consciousness inside the other’s mind. Which you, Sin, cannot do. As for Mare, her abilities also don’t allow her to transfer any part of her consciousness past someone else’s mental shields. Instead, she receives mental transmissions from the person she feeds on.”

I thought back to the past couple of times when she’d attacked my shields. When they’d ultimately cracked, it was true that it hadn’t felt like she’d crossed into my head. More like, my memories slipped out of the cracks to her. As if she couldn’t cross the shields.

Mend must have seen my realization because he continued. “Now, I suspect that once you’ve worked hard to heal yourself, both physically and mentally, Mare won’t be able to see anything. This other person you’re being secretive about, I’m not so sure. Like I said, I’ve seen this sort of clotting in the past, but never this severe. Maybe only a few, if the psychic wielder was really strong.” He glanced at me with a downturned smile. “I’d caution you to continue strengthening your shields.

“When I paid you a visit at London’s home, you were very obviously malnourished, abused, and neglectful of your own needs. Like I said, it’s likely the only reason Mare has been able to infiltrate your mind is because of your weakened state. I think after today, you should be fine to practice with Mare again.”

Mend asked me a few more questions, like if I’d taken some of the medicine he’d given me, and I’d had to confess I hadn't. He hadn’t seemed surprised, but he did suggest again that I give the meds a chance.

I had a lot to think about while Mend went to work treating me, ignoring London’s silent, angry presence in the corner of the room. He was pissed, and that was fine. He could yell at me later.

Mend gave me an injection of his blood to my head, which ouch, and another to my stomach to help make sure the healing focused the most on the areas he was most concerned with. While he let the blood do its healing magic, he ran a few more tests and scans on my body to make sure I was healing the way he wanted.

Then all I had to do was wait.

Chapter Fifteen

Why is there a cheese grater with a really large bow on your counter?

After about an hour, Mend performed one final scan on my head to check on the clots. Unlike the first scan, when he pulled up the new image, my head appeared mostly free of blood clots. Mend assured us any remaining clots would be gone the following morning, but to appease London, he sent us away with a vial of his blood on the off chance I needed it.

My stomach still bore a thin, raw mark from where I’d been injured, right beside an older, larger, but mostly faded one I tried my best not to think about. While I knew Mend could probably have used more of his blood to make it heal completely, it was unnecessary.

After bidding Mend goodbye, London basically carried me out of the Citadel. I was a little disappointed, having hoped maybe we’d get to explore the place, maybe check out the weapons or training rooms. But London was a man on a mission, and that mission was apparently to get me out of there so he could yell at me.

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