"Yeah." Aubry frowned. "I wanted to go over some new - "
Dev cut him off before he could reveal anything sensitive in front of Katya. "Later. We'll set up a comm-conference. I'm heading out of town."
For all his lazy charm, Aubry was nothing if not intelligent. Picking up the subtext, he closed the small electronic organizer he'd flipped open. "I'll e-mail you the details - we can talk after you've had a chance to look things over. See you later, beautiful."
As Katya said, "'Bye," Dev sent a message to his car's onboard computer, telling the vehicle to meet them in front of the building.
Katya didn't speak again until they were almost to the curb. "That man - "
"Aubry," he said as the car rolled to a stop in front of him, the computronic system purring smoothly in the back of his mind.
"Aubry was very handsome." She sounded almost puzzled.
Dev used his thumbprint to unlock the car though he could have as easily used his link with the computer. Only a very few trusted individuals knew of his gift with metal, even fewer of his developing affinity to machines. "Hop in." As she settled in beside him, he answered her earlier comment. "Women like Aubry." Age, culture, class, none of it mattered. The other man walked into a room and women smiled.
"I can see why," Katya murmured, watching him guide the car out into the traffic. After almost a minute of silence, she added, "A true Psy wouldn't have noticed his looks."
"Why not?" Dev suddenly realized he'd stopped drawing metal the instant he had Katya to himself.
"True Psy are Silent."
"Correction," he said. "Psy in the Net are Silent. Psy outside the Net are not. Both are Psy." And none of them affected him as viscerally as this woman who'd been dumped outside his home like so much garbage.
"The Forgotten," she whispered in a voice so soft he had to strain to hear her through the rush of protective anger. "I remember. . . the boy, he was one of yours. One of the Forgotten." Scrunching up her face, she paused for several seconds before uttering a sound of absolute and utter frustration. "I know something, but I can't reach it yet. Something about the boy."
Dev could guess exactly what she was trying to remember - Jonquil's ability to literally sweet-talk people into doing whatever he wanted would be considered the most perfect of weapons by Ming LeBon and his fellow Councilors. Psy in power killed with cold-blooded precision when necessary, but they preferred to work under the radar if at all possible - it made it far easier to disclaim all responsibility for the brutal acts they put in motion.
Glancing over, he saw Katya press her fingers to her temples, as if trying to still an ache - or force open the locked vault of her memory, no matter that it might incite even worse pain. Instinct rose, wiping out the civilized man and the cold control of metal both. "You want to cause an aneurysm?"
Katya felt her entire body tense at the unsheathed blade of his voice. "I just want to remember." The edgy response came from a new part of her, a part that hadn't existed before she woke in the hospital bed; a part, she thought with wonder, that was fresh, unbroken . . . the phoenix part.
"The memories won't make you who you were before."
"I'm not sure anything could." Her throat dried up as she glimpsed a flicker, a bare splinter of lost time. "I was so cold."
"You were Silent."
"Yes." She stared out at the traffic in the next lane, everything moving at a crisp pace that ensured there were no log-jams inside the city as there had been in the late twentieth century. If a manual driver deviated too much from the optimum speed range, the car's backup system would kick in, putting it back in sync with the rest of the traffic. It was all about programming. Just like her mind. "I'm a blunt instrument."
There was no warning. One moment she was speaking, the next she felt her eyes snap shut as her spine arched in screaming pain. Then . . . nothing.
"Katya!" Reaching out as Katya's head fell limply to the side, Dev grabbed her wrist. Her pulse was strong, but irregular.
Where the hell was the exit? There! Pulling off, he managed to get into the parking lot of a huge mall situated on the very edge of the off-ramp. Undoing his safety belt and moving around the car to open Katya's door took only another few seconds.
"Come on," he said, cupping her face, "wake up."
When she didn't respond, he focused his residual telepathic ability and spoke to her, hoping the call would reach her on some level, stir her back to consciousness.
Katya.
A hiccup in her pulse.
That's it, your name is Katya. "Come back to me. You're stronger than this." Another hiccup. "Katya." It came out as a caress, a spoken kiss.
Caught in the sticky strands of the cobweb that seemed to be growing ever stronger, Katya stilled, listened, heard a name. Hers? Yes, she thought, fighting the fog, fighting to wake up. It was hers. The first breath was a coughing rush, the second full of the exotic scent of a man with not-brown eyes and skin of such a beautiful shade that she wanted to taste it. "Katya," she said, her throat strangely raw. "That's me."
Dev's hands tightened on her face, his cheekbones cutting against that golden brown skin. "We need to get you back to the clinic."
"No." It came out without thought, an instinctive response. If he took her back, she'd be trapped again - and she needed to get moving, get there. Where? Shaking her head to clear the fog, she reached out to touch his shoulder. Muscle flexed under her palm, and her thoughts threatened to scatter.