Page 56 of Primal Mirror

“You shouldn’t worry,” Dr. Verhoeven said. “Charisma has no doubt run a comprehensive security sweep.”

“Yes, but my uncle is weak, not stupid,” Auden said, the words coming faster than she could process them. “He could’ve thought to plant an object in the house that might send me into shock if I come into unexpected contact with it. It could be as simple as a pen purchased from the estate of a serial murderer. Do any of us ever really think about it before picking up a pen to make a quick note?”

Stunned by the idea that might be an actual credible threat she’d never before considered because she just didn’t think in such a mercenary way, she leaned her head back on the examination chair. Her pulse felt erratic, but she didn’t fight it—let Dr. Verhoeven note that down, add it to his list of problematic factors.

“All I need is a location neither he nor my cousin has ever accessed.”

“Perhaps you should go to the cabin,” the doctor mused. “It’s secure, and the leopards are no threat now that you have a major deal with them—they might even provide protection as part of their attempt to build a relationship. The biomonitors let me keep an eye on you, and we have a teleporter on standby if I need to get to you.”

Auden couldn’t believe he’d given her the cabin on a silver platter, had to struggle not to jump on the offer with betraying eagerness. “I’m unable to fly, teleportation is out for me, and you know the problem with having a different individual in my chopper.”

“Hmm, yes.”

“Though…” She paused. “I accidentally touched a few surfaces the changeling alpha touched during our recent tour of their manufacturing facilities, and while I picked up multiple changeling echoes from those who work there, I had no negative reaction.”

“Interesting.” The doctor sounded like he meant that. “A result of their natural shields do you think?”

“Makes logical sense to me,” Auden agreed. “Perhaps if I continue to have trouble sleeping, I’ll hire a changeling pilot to get me to the cabin so I can rest without concern about what Uncle Hayward or my cousin may have left behind for me.”

“I really do recommend a period of significant rest.” The doctor made a few notes. “You know how important it is that you stay in top shape. There’s no knowing how long this brain will function at the level you need it to function.”

The hairs on Auden’s nape quivered.

There was something extremely wrong with the way the doctor had phrased that—but she couldn’t exactly question him without betraying herself. So she responded with a cool, “Exactly so.” She got off the examination chair by swinging her legs to the side, then pushing up on the arm.

The M-Psy offered her a hand, such contact having been permitted even in Silence when another Psy was in a physical state that made movement difficult, but she shook her head—both to maintain her image of being in control and powerful, and because she didn’t want that man touching her.

Auden was no touch telepath, as some of the Justice Psy were said to become after years of their grim work, but this man had talked about her brain as if it were an interchangeable tool. She did not want him near her, much less touching her.

“I’ll see what I can organize in terms of acceptable transportation,” she said, her hand lifting to her temple without conscious volition.

But it was the right move, because Dr. Verhoeven reiterated the need for her to take a break, adding the words, “The child is critical. Early signs are that its neural structure is developing as required.”

Auden was going to throw up.

Swallowing back the bile with effort, she gave a curt nod, then made her way out of the infirmary suite. She wasn’t surprised to find Charisma waiting for her in the reception area. And after the creepiness of Dr. Verhoeven’s words, she’d had enough. She channeled Shoshanna. “Do you wish to be demoted?” Her voice was ice coated in frost. “Because I can make that happen today.”

Clever, Auden, whispered an internal voice as cold as the one that had come out of her mouth. You didn’t threaten to fire her. She knows you’d never do that, not with all the information she holds in her head. But a demotion? Yes, that she might believe. Especially as she has witnessed such “demotions” before, all of which involved the telepathic scraping of a mind.

The bile returned. Who was she that she could have such emotionless thoughts?

“I had no desire to overstep.” Charisma bent her head. “I came to discuss a personal matter with Dr. Verhoeven.”

Auden believed neither the sudden submissiveness, nor the excuse for her presence. “Then do go in, Ris.” She waved a hand…and felt her lips curve into a smile that she’d seen on her mother’s face as she grew from child to adult.

Charisma visibly drew back, sucking in a breath at the same time. “Sir.” A shaky tone.

Auden left without waiting for anything further. She didn’t know how she made it to her bedroom, or how she kept it together until she was behind the closed door of her bathroom suite. She had to believe this room wasn’t monitored—and even if it was, all they’d hear was a pregnant woman throwing up.

After it was done, she cleaned up, brushed her teeth, and made herself think of the doctor’s words. Why “this brain”? What had he meant by that? It wasn’t as if a person could switch brains—not even Psy could do that.

Staring in the mirror, she reached up to her hairline, to that faint scar hidden beneath the fine hairs there. “What did you put in me?” she whispered so quietly it was inaudible to her own ears, her question directed at her dead parents.

She’d gone into surgery, for what her mother had told her was a corrective procedure to fix a blocked artery that could one day lead to a stroke, and come out fine. It had lasted one week. Then had come the burning storm in her brain that had altered the trajectory of her life.

Anything else she knew, she’d learned from Shoshanna. Her mother used to sit beside her bed and speak to her after she took over primary custody. Auden only remembered pieces of it.

“Unfortunate that the updated variant of the graft had the same flaw.” Her mother rising from the seat. “Not much of a loss in the grand scheme of things. Despite Henry’s delusions, a Ps was never going to run his family or mine.”

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