Page 20 of Primal Mirror

It was also the only option.

“I haven’t slept for the past week,” she’d told Charisma when the other woman balked at Auden’s refusal to even consider a bed frame. “I’ve started to sense details from the workers who assembled my bed here at the house, and I’ve had that for years.”

Charisma’s pupils had expanded. “Your sensitivity is that intense?”

“Unfortunately.”

The futon itself was borrowed from B2cc, a fellow psychometric who’d offered it to pregnant designation-mates.

B2cc: I’ve given birth and my imprint sensing is back to normal. This will carry my imprint, but I’ve heard that Ps-Psy leave weak imprints as a rule, so if anyone wants to test it, you’re welcome.

Auden, sleep-deprived and desperate, had taken the invitation. And would report back that the woman who’d offered the futon had been right. She could sense the other Ps-Psy, but it was a fuzzy knowing at best. No hard edges. No intrusiveness.

Even though they’d never met, Auden trusted her fellow anonymous psychometrics in a way she trusted no one else. They wanted nothing from her except information—the same thing she wanted from them in return. The kindness shown by B2cc…it had been an unexpected and generous gift, and Auden intended to pay that kindness forward.

Because Ps-Psy were on their own.

No one had ever studied psychometrics. Likely because they were no threat to anyone. Despite the legends, there was no evidence that a psychometric had ever killed someone using their ability.

Even empaths could wound or kill people with their ability. It hurt the E to do so, but at least they had an offensive tool in their toolbox. Could be that was where the legends of “assassin psychometrics” had come from—because while the Council had left Ps-Psy alone during their attempted purge of empaths, psychometrics were as tied to emotion as empaths.

The big difference, however, was that Ps-Psy could distance themselves by only working with objects old enough that the emotional resonance was so faded as to be negligible. Empaths had no such choice. Es also came into direct contact with violent emotions, the reason why they could utilize it as a weapon in exigent circumstances.

Prior to the fall of Silence, Auden and others like her had only experienced emotion thirdhand. Other people’s emotions, other people’s memories. Imprinted onto the objects they’d left behind. Add in the passage of time as occurred with most items handled in museums and Ps-Psy had never been a threat to the protocol.

Especially since they’d never been one of the more numerous designations. Their numbers had continued to decline in Silence because it was only the odd academic family that bred for a psychometric. Families like Auden’s wanted offensive powers. If not that, then at least a designation like F, which would add to the family coffers.

Instead, her parents—two telepaths who were both beyond 9 on the Gradient—had produced a 9.4 psychometric.

Older psychometrics on the forum said that back during their time, they used to believe the NetMind was the reason for rogue psychometric births. That the neosentience that was the librarian and guardian of the Net was balancing out the psychic ecosystem to stop the extinction of their designation.

Auden had never come into contact with the NetMind and word on the Net was that it was dead, driven mad then murdered by the horrific ongoing breakdown of the PsyNet.

She rubbed a fisted hand over her heart.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “If you’re the reason I’m me.”

Being a psychometric was all that had saved her from becoming a mirror of her father and mother. She had touched emotion all her life, even if it had been muted, and it had forever altered her. She’d never treat any sentient being as disposable. And she’d never hurt her child in the pursuit of power.

“I’ll protect you,” she said as she levered herself down to the futon by bracing one hand atop a short bedside dresser she’d placed there for just this purpose. “I’ll find a way.”

Because while she could protect her child’s mind inside her own, she couldn’t protect their body. That didn’t even take the devastation in the PsyNet into account. Her baby was going to be born into a world where her life hung by a psychic thread—and into a house where people were far too interested in a pregnancy that should never have happened.

Her mouth tightened.

Exhaling after she was settled on the futon, she reached into the last drawer of the dresser to retrieve a small and narrow black box. When she opened it, it was to reveal a gleaming black laser weapon.

Small enough to fit into her palm.

Three settings, including a stun that could kill.

A gift from her father on her fifteenth birthday.

“Secrets can be power, Auden,” he’d told her, his big hand warm on her shoulder. “This weapon is our secret. It’s recorded nowhere, and has no history. It can never be traced back to you.”

“The imprints, Father?”

“It’s new, machine fabricated with only minor handling. Leave it aside for a year to eighteen months to ensure no imprints remain, then I’ll take you shooting.”

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