WITH GREAT POWER

By

Brenna Lyons

© copyright August 2004, Brenna Lyons

DEDICATION

When Jaide put out the call for this anthology, it fired my imagination. Between hearing my son "invent" one superhero after another, having a younger brother with a degree in graphic arts and reading comic books when I was growing up, I’ve always had a fondness for the genre. Right away, I decided I didn’t want to create a world of superheroes in the normal sense of the word. The thought that immediately lodged in my head was simple. What if superheroes evolved ala X-Men and were forced to live in service to society with no choice in the matter?

I have to thank Stan Lee and Marvel Comics for my fascination with the subject and for the concepts that I have come to associate with superheroes in general. My major sources of inspiration were the X-Men, Superman, Batman, The Justice League, and most especially … The Amazing Spiderman and Professor Xavier.

I hope you enjoy "With Great Power." I had a great time writing it.

Brenna Lyons

Prologue

Memo

To: Mindteacher, Dean of Discipline, Head Trustee, Calante Academy, Central City

From: Visionchaser, spokesman for the trustees, Calante Academy, Central City

Date: June 15, 2052

We heartily agree with your analysis of the situation. The trustees are unanimous in their decision. Soulchaser is to be brought to the academy to begin his training tonight. We cannot risk a repeat of Empathen’s loss. Use whatever means you find necessary to secure the boy before the Grellan can strike again.

End trans.

* * * *

Julien startled awake as his mother cried out in fury and frustration.

"You can’t," she protested. "I have two more years. The law says—"

"You know he can’t stay here, Patrice," a strange man insisted. "How will you protect him? He has Empathen’s powers and more. They know that."

"Then take me, too."

"You know I can’t do that. If you were an operative— I can’t let a human live inside the main complex. That’s why your quarters are outside the wall."

"You won’t break that rule, but you’ll take him early?" she asked sarcastically.

The man sighed. "You would have to leave the main complex in two years. How would we explain it to him then? How would we explain you being there to the other cadets now? The jokes would start tonight. The mighty Empathen’s son needs his Mommy to come with him? Children can be very cruel, Patrice."

Julien snuck to the bedroom door, daring to peek at the man from the academy — the operative they sent to try to take him from his mother. His heart pounded at the sight of the grim-faced old man. Julien looked to his mother’s tortured expression in dismay. She was considering it. Patrice was actually considering handing him over early.

Please, don’t agree. Don’t let him take me. Julien bit back a sob as he felt her wavering.

"He’s my son," she managed through trembling lips. "He’s my only child."

The old man took her hands. "You will lose him either way, Patrice. This way, you know he’s safe. If he stays here—" He let the threat hang between them.

She nodded. "You’ll bring Julien to see me? Promise me that much."

He took her shoulders in his hands, nodding. "A guard detail will bring him once a month and accompany you where you wish to take him. You have my vow."

"What — What is my son’s name?" she asked solemnly.

Julien shook his head in disbelief. His name— The name chosen for him when he was tested at the age of three would be spoken for the first time tonight, two years ahead of schedule.

"Soulchaser."

Julien shivered. If they were really taking him to the academy, he’d heard his true name for the last time until he found a confidant. No one dared speak a power’s true name unless he or she was invited to do so, and his parents never would. That was the law.

The old man chuckled. "Come, Soulchaser. It is time to go."

"That is not my name," he replied stubbornly. "It will not be my name until I turn ten. That is the law."

The door opened, and the man stared down at him, amusement curving his lips into a cruel smile. "Are you inviting me to use your true name?" he asked pointedly.

Julien felt his cheeks burn. He glared at the old man. "No. I don’t trust you."

"That’s good. People should earn your trust."

"That’s not what my father says," Julien groused. "He says to trust your gut instincts about people." I don’t trust you. But, Empathen was dead. Word had come to them that afternoon that his father had fallen in the line of duty.

The man’s smile disappeared. "Your father trusted the wrong person. That is how he died. You should remember that."

Julien didn’t answer that. How could he argue that a power like Empathen should never have let a Grellan get close enough to kill him? Why would Empathen let down his guard?

"On your feet, Cadet Soulchaser."

He cringed as he rose. I am not Soulchaser. I am Julien Cross. No matter what name I answer to, I will never forget who I am. He met the old man’s eyes. "What is your name — sir?"

"My name is Mindteacher, but almost no one calls me that, as you will soon learn."

"They use your true name?" Julien asked dubiously. Surely not. There was too much power in knowing an operative’s true name. The law said—

"No. They call me ‘the old man.’ People have always called me ‘the old man,’ even when I wasn’t one."

Julien scowled, unsurprised by that discovery.

"Say goodbye to your mother, Soulchaser. You will see her next month." Mindteacher laid a hand on Julien’s shoulder.

Julien stilled, meeting the old man’s eyes as Mindteacher’s thoughts coursed into him like a waterfall. In the moment before he yanked his hand away, Julien learned a lot about Mindteacher.

The old man blamed Jake for his own death. Mindteacher thought of Empathen as Jake, though he didn’t trust Jake any more than Jake trusted Mindteacher. The old man knew everyone’s secrets. He was the academy Dean of Discipline and the Head Trustee. Julien laughed aloud as Mindteacher’s true name settled in his mind. Then the connection was gone.

Mindteacher motioned to the doorway. He waited for Julien to turn to it before he nodded to Patrice. "Next month," he assured her.

A chill coursed along Julien’s nerves and he grasped his mother in a fierce hug, abruptly certain that he would never be permitted to see her again.

* * * *

Memo

To: Visionchaser, spokesman for the trustees, Calante Academy, Central City

From: Mindteacher, Dean of Discipline, Head Trustee, Calante Academy, Central City

Date: December 20, 2055

No account can be made for the sudden cessation of hostilities. One can only assume that the Grellan are plotting our end, but what new means they have discovered remains to be seen. Our operatives report less and less signs of the Grellan in and around all cities over Suraden. Training has been stepped up. Be ever vigilant, my friend. Millennia of fighting will not end so easily.

End trans.

Chapter One

Assignment Status

To: Soulchaser, Unit Leader, Unit 1255, Central City

From: Fire Mother, Communications Center, Calante Academy, Central City

Date: March 12, 2064

Report to Tower 1022, quarters 13 N 17. Use extreme caution. Reports of Grellan activity in abandoned quarters.

The old man says he thinks it’s your group again. Take care, Soulchaser. Serve well.

End Trans.

* * *

Julien stared at the woman before him. She was his own age with auburn curls that cascaded over her shoulders. She was also naked. She was always naked.

She was so familiar that Julien could note every curve with his eyes closed, the pink scar above her left breast, and even the tattoo of the Siberian tiger on the back of her right shoulder. Julien recognized her scent, something of musk and Jasmine, and the touch of her mind. The one thing he could not do was name her.

She strode toward him, her hips swaying in invitation. Her hand stroked Julien’s rising cock through the gray cotton of his over-cover. "I knew you would come," she purred.

"Why me?" he asked.

"Only you will see the truth," she whispered, her fingers tracing the head straining against his clothing.

Julien took a calming breath. He should stop her, but he needed information. As maddening as her touch was, he had to know why she was here, and that wouldn’t happen if he put her on the defensive.

"Come to me without your unit," she requested again. She’d made that request the last three times he’d encountered her.

"Why?" Why would she want to talk to him alone? What purpose could there be in getting him isolated and unprotected?

Her blue eyes sparkled under dusty red lashes. She pulled his hand to her breast, laying it over the hard nipple.

Julien bit back a groan, fully aware that the other members of his unit could see everything his physical body did and hear every sound he made aloud. "What is your name?"

"Promise you’ll come to me alone."

The softness of her breast teased his palm. She shifted, brushing the point of her nipple against his sensitized skin.

"If you promise to come to me alone, I will tell you my name.."

"Next time. I will arrange it next time," he promised, already working out how he would make that happen.

She leaned toward him, laying a kiss on Julien’s lower lip. "They call me Starseeker. My name is Angel."

"Angel?" She trusted Julien with her true name. Was that intended to prove that she wanted his trust, that she trusted him? Did the Grellan think there was anything special in a true name? Was it a trick? Julien wished he knew for sure. "When will I see you again?" It had been almost three weeks since he had seen her last.

The hand on his cock stroked harder. "Soon." Her essence faded away, leaving only her haunting scent to tease him.

Julien took a shuddering breath and forced his eyes open. The glass of the mirror, only slightly warmed to his touch, made a mockery of the memory of Angel’s skin beneath his fingers.

He took another deep breath, separating phantom strands of Angel’s scent from those of her unit, one so close to hers that the man must be a relative. A brother, perhaps? His essence spoke of youth — but of infirmity of some sort, a feeling of not being whole.

"And?" Firebrand asked impatiently. As always, his incendiary nature reached from his powers to his personality. "Come off it, Soulchaser. Give me information."

Julien shot him a quelling look, reminding Firebrand silently who the leader of their unit was. He nodded as the new operative blushed and looked away. It wasn’t unusual for a power to forget that Julien was a unit leader. Operatives didn’t typically graduate to the field until they were eighteen, and it generally took them five years in police service with human suspects until they moved on to a unit or to a position in research or administration. There, only the strongest and most capable were made leaders.

Julien had never been the typical power. Taken from his mother at the age of eight instead of ten, he finished his training at sixteen. He spent three years working the police beat before the old man let him move up to the units, but he was granted his own unit within two months. Julien was in complete control of his unit. He alone chose his unit members and gave them orders outside of the initial assignment order.

It would be all too easy for Julien to replace Firebrand with an older operative who showed more control, but Julien prided himself in having the best of the best in his unit. So, when Julien requested Firebrand after only a year of police service, the old man signed the order without question that the young man, only a little more than a year younger than Julien, belonged in the units where the real challenges existed.

"It was the same five," Julien informed them, removing his hand from the mirror.

Sky Master shook his head slowly. "Why would they continue to come here? Is there a traitor they are meeting?"

"No. There is no sign of any Calante here or at any of the sites. Or any human. Whatever is drawing them into the city is internal to their unit."

Sky Master stared at the deep green of the Suraden sunset through the streaked window. "Can you tell us more about the two new powers with them?" he asked quietly.

Julien ran his fingertips over the mirror, drinking in the last fibers of Angel’s presence, taking them into his mind and body. He had identified Night Warrior, Sky Child, and Moon Current immediately, but Angel and her relative had evaded his usual tactician success rate for six encounters. It was unheard of, and it was a source of embarrassment for the whole unit.

"Starseeker," he breathed. "One of them is named Starseeker. The two are related. Siblings, I believe."

"Believe?" Water Demon rasped in her usual strained tones. "That is not a term you use often."

Julien took in her purple-clad body, covered in synth-cloth, as everyone in his unit was save Julien himself. Water Demon’s cover was the purple of the deepest sea beds. Sky Master wore green the color of the sunset sky. Firebrand wore the blue of the powerful flames he controlled.

Their over-covers were designed for comfort and safety. Water Demon’s suit was outfitted to withstand deep-sea pressures and to safeguard her from radical changes in pressure. In addition, it circulated water over her gill slits and aerated the water for her when she was operating on land. Firebrand’s suit cooled his body, keeping his tissues from combusting when he used his powers.

Sky Master’s suit was most impressive. The suit pressurized automatically when he reached altitudes that required it. At that point, the retractable faceplate would extend and provide him with oxygen to sustain him in flight. The suit monitored his physiological state and was designed to notify med-flight if he suffered suit failure. Unlike Water Demon, a failure in Sky Master’s suit could be fatal within minutes. The trainers learned long ago that the ability to do something did not always come with the physical design to withstand the rigors of the act.

Julien had no synth-cloth cover. The material interfered with his powers. The trainers joked that a natural power like his required a natural environment. His cover was thick cotton fleece covered with a wool jacket that hid his lessening erection from his unit. His shoes were leather with cotton laces, and his suit fastened with a simple metal zipper.

He could wear no specialized protection, not even the Kevlar silk built into all the other operative’s covers. Julien’s team was his protection. They were also his keepers. Julien couldn’t carry electronic surveillance gear as most operatives did. Even his team couldn’t use comm units in an area he had to work. The comm circuits wrecked havoc with his powers, just as they had with his father.

"Believe?" Sky Master reminded him.

Julien nodded, an idea taking shape. He’d never lied to his team before, but he had to learn what Angel and her unit wanted in the city, what they wanted with him. "Starseeker’s essence is much like my own." It was. Maybe that was why she was naked when she came to him. "It seems — your presence disrupts the unstable strands left behind."

Sky Master looked at him uncomfortably. "What are you suggesting? You want us to leave you here? Alone? The old man would have a fit."

That much was true. Julien immersed himself in the strands to the exclusion of all else when he was on a track. His unit was his protection. The old man was sure to balk at what Julien was suggesting.

"No. The damage is already done here. The next time we are called out, I want you to form a containment ring. I’ll take in an emergency beacon, but I have to go in alone." Yes, the emergency beacon wouldn’t send out a destructive signature unless he hit the button, but would Julien see danger coming before it was too late to push that button? That would be what the old man would consider.

"Are you crazy?" Firebrand exploded. "You will be completely unprotected at your most vulnerable moments."

"The old man will never allow it," Sky Master decided.

Julien sighed. "He will. If he wants to get more information about Starseeker, he will allow it." He pushed away an unwelcome thought. Despite what the old man wanted, Julien wanted to know more about Angel and not in any way the old man would appreciate.

* * * *

The old man’s true name was Adrien Carter. Julien was one of the few who knew that, perhaps the only living person who did. Of course, Julien was the only one beside the trustees who knew everyone’s true name at the Center City Academy. All it took was a touch on their person while they weren’t clothed in synth-cloth, and he knew. Over the years, it became a game to learn them all.

Adrien regarded Julien over his steepled fingers, probing uselessly at the shield Julien learned to project when he was nine. "We cannot risk you," Adrien decided. "Permission denied."

Julien shrugged, locking down control on his desperation. "As you wish. When will my unit be reassigned?" he asked calmly.

Adrien furrowed his brow. "Reassigned? Why would you be reassigned?"

"You teach us to always play to our strengths. If I cannot progress, I would better serve elsewhere."

"And you feel you cannot progress with your unit close to the source strands?"

"What I am sensing indicates that," he lied smoothly. In truth, Julien wasn’t sure how Angel controlled the information she left behind in the strands or how she connected to him when he was at the source. That uncertainty made him all the more determined to learn how she did it.

Adrien sent him a searching look. Julien met his eyes evenly, confident of his safety. No one else could lie to the old man. Only the fact that Julien was so useful saved him from some sort of artificial hobbling to place him solidly under Adrien’s control.

It was a good thing the old man couldn’t read Julien’s mind. If Adrien knew he planned to connect to a Grellan, Julien would be shackled in a synth-cloth room — or worse. If Adrien knew what Julien hoped happen when he connected to Starseeker, ‘or worse’ was the best he could hope for.

"Permission—" Adrien scowled.

Julien arched an eyebrow at the old man’s attempt to unbalance him. It was amusing that Adrien still tried. Julien willed his muscles loose. Showing tension would alert Adrien that there was a weakness to be exploited.

"Permission granted," Adrien growled.

Julien nodded once. He swallowed a sigh of relief — or perhaps a laugh of triumph. "One tower," he decided.

The old man sighed. "One tower containment zone," he agreed grudgingly, "and you carry a beacon."

Chapter Two

Julien smiled as he closed the door to the living quarters behind him. Adrien sought to test him, but it was about to backfire in the old man’s face. He should know better than to play head games with Julien by now.

The scent filled his lungs, the musk and jasmine he associated with Angel. The strands crossed over each other, telling the tale of the Grellan’s time in this place. They had only stayed a day before using power that would alert the Calante to their presence. They hadn’t even spent the night this time.

All of them left imprints in the main room. "Strange," he mused. Angel’s sibling was easier to read now. Had they planned that or had Julien inadvertently told the truth about the interference of his unit? It was a boy, a child too young to have ended academy training, maybe the age of a seventh or eighth-year cadet.

"Starfire," he whispered with a wide smile. The boy’s name was — Anthony. His power was the ability to see living conditions on far-off star systems. That and— Julien growled as he lost the weave of that strand. It was almost as if they knew how to hide things from him. At any rate, Julien knew about one of Starfire’s abilities. It was akin to astral projection, which explained his name, and it was a power that the Calante would prize highly.

Julien moved around the room slowly, touching one thing after another. They ate two meals here, food they carried in with them. Anthony had a telescope. He called Night Warrior and Moon Current ‘uncle’ and ‘aunt.’ He called Star Child—

"Names," he mused in awe. They all knew each other’s names. Now Julien did, too. Night Warrior was Paul Andrews, and Moon Current was his wife, Debra. Sky Child was Sylvia Bryant. Angel and Anthony’s family name was Taylor.

Julien sobered. It was a strange way to live. The ancient texts all agreed that only an operative’s closest confidants were permitted to know his or her true name. The Calante was founded on those ideals, brought with them from Earth millennia ago.

He furrowed his brow. All of their essences were in the main room, but Angel’s went further. Julien followed the strands deeper into the dwelling, drinking in the feeling of Angel’s soul. He shivered in anticipation as he pushed the door to the bedroom wide.

Julien closed his eyes and let Angel’s strand lead him on, immersing himself fully now that he found the source strands that he needed to reach her. He laughed aloud as his knees connected with the bed. "I like the way you think, Angel."

Her laugh sent shivers down his spine. Julien opened his eyes, still deeply immersed in the connection. Angel lay on the bed, her auburn curls tossed over the sky green pillows, her arms laid under her full breasts, and her legs crossed at the ankles. Her deep blue eyes twinkled.

"Do you ever dress?" he asked.

"When I know you will come to me? What a waste of time," she teased.

Julien sank to the bed beside her, tracing a nipple slowly. The silk of her breast and pebbled softness of her nipple were flawless. Angel’s smile disappeared, and a look of stark hunger took its place. Julien wondered how real this connection could become. He’d wondered that since she’d teased him back at Tower 1022.

Angel wrapped an arm behind his head and pulled his mouth to hers. Her lips parted, and Julien kissed her, ravenous for the connection he’d dreamed of. Every sensation was perfect; the heat, the taste of juice and toast in her mouth, the texture of her lips and tongue under his.

Julien dragged his mouth away, touching her swollen lips with shaking fingers. "I must be insane." For some reason, insanity sounded appealing if Angel was part of the package.

She smiled. "I’ve wanted to do that for months. I am real, Soulchaser."

He grimaced. Julien didn’t want to be Soulchaser with Angel. Soulchaser was Calante. It was Soulchaser’s duty to bring her to justice under the Grellan Act of 577. But, no one used his true name. No one had since his mother turned him over to the Academy for training at eight. According to the law, no one could use it — unless he offered it, but Angel was Grellan, and no Calante would offer a Grellan that power over him.

No one called him Julien. Even the old man and the three trustees called him Soulchaser. Those four held the terrifying power of knowing his true name, but they never used it for fear of punishment under the law. The trainers at the Academy were never trusted enough to know Julien’s true name. Even his unit didn’t know it.

But, Julien couldn’t deny that he wanted Angel to know it. Did he want her to be his close confidant? Did Julien want her to be more than that? Operatives were free to marry human confidants or other operatives. Julien dreamed of marriage. He dreamed of long, slow nights of sex with someone who would call him by his true name.

Angel touched his cheek, nipping at his lower lip. "You can’t do it. I understand. When you’re ready, you’ll tell me."

Julien darkened. "What do you want from me, Starseeker?" It would be inappropriate for him to use her true name now that he’d refused to give her his.

"No. I’m not Starseeker. Not with you. Call me Angel."

He closed his eyes, seeking her mouth urgently. "Angel," he breathed.

"I gave you my name, because I must confide in you.. You must know that I trust you."

"Tell me." Julien nuzzled his face in her hair. He’d wanted to do that since the first time he’d seen her walking toward him. "Tell me why you’re doing this."

"Trust me. Trust me as I have trusted you."

A rational kernel in his mind argued that Angel was Grellan and was, by definition, not to be trusted. A larger portion wanted to trust her. Trust your gut instinct.

No. Empathen died, because he trusted the wrong person, a Grellan. "I will try," he promised. What more could he promise?

* * * *

Angel sighed inwardly. It wasn’t enough. He had to trust her fully. She stroked him, searching his expression as he grew thick and heavy in her hand.

"Let me know when you trust me," she breathed.

Soulchaser groaned aloud to her touch. "How real can this be?" he whispered.

"I don’t know," she admitted. Angel had never attempted what she was doing. Soulchaser was much stronger than any man she’d connected to in the past.

His fingers stroked her inner thigh. "Open for me."

Her heart pounded against her ribs. If the others knew about this, they would not approve. Angel spread her legs wide, bowing up as his cool fingers probed at her heat. "Yes," she hissed.

His mouth closed on her nipple, and Angel bit back a scream of pleasure, aware of her family in the next room. His hands were everywhere; stroking, squeezing, testing and teasing at her skin.

"Come for me." His voice surrounded her, the phantom touch of his breath on her ear.

Angel kissed him, using the sensation of his mouth on hers to remind her not to cry out as she was swept away. She sucked in gasping breaths as her body released for him.

Soulchaser nipped at her ear. "You smell so good." He moved down her body, laying teasing kisses on her stomach, her curls, her clit.

She bit her lip. "Soulchaser," she breathed. Angel would have begged if he’d asked her.

He didn’t ask. Soulchaser’s tongue caressed her inside and out — slowly, as if he read her need for that approach. He didn’t back off, thrusting and stroking until she shattered again.

Angel ground her teeth against the scream building behind her lips, sinking to the bed beneath her and closing her eyes in exhaustion. "Will you come again?" she asked.

"Yes. Will you tell me what you want from me next time?"

"Come to me naked," she requested. Breaking his training would not be easy. She would have to make Soulchaser more vulnerable to accomplish her task. "Next time, come to me naked."

Angel faded from his mind, as Soulchaser groaned again. Yes. She would be able to break his training given time and the right incentives. She had to make him think and make him question. He was faltering in that respect already. But to win, she had to make him want something more than the life he had. Every Calante she’d contacted in the past had wanted out. Turning Soulchaser was much more difficult. He didn’t realize that he wanted out yet, but Angel had to free him.

She pulled the quilt around her body, sinking into a twilight sleep. The connection was always wearing, but this time it was all the more so. Soulchaser had tired her body to match her overworked mind.

Angel smiled in her half-sleep, memories of Soulchaser making her warm and weak. Going to him in the nude had been a necessity of her power. The idea of teasing him sexually, of using her nudity to draw him in, stemmed from his interest in her. Soulchaser was adept at hiding his feelings from those around him, but that was impossible inside the connection.

It was never supposed to go this far. Angel never dreamed that it could go this far. She shivered in the memory of Soulchaser’s insistent tongue and nimble fingers. Angel was looking forward to their next encounter, not to bring them closer to their ultimate goal but to experience more of their unique connection.

"Angel?" Debra called.

"Hmm," she yawned, forcing her eyes open.

"Any progress?" The older woman shifted nervously, winding a gray-streaked lock of black hair through her fingers.

"Yes. He’s agreed to meet me again." Angel smiled. "Alone. His trust will come in time."

Debra nodded. "If you become uncomfortable—"

Angel waved her off. "Soulchaser is a good man." A man who thought only of my pleasure. A thrill raced over her nerves. He hadn’t sought his own pleasure.

"Be careful, Angel. Good man or not, Soulchaser is Calante. He’s been taught only his duty." Debra brushed Angel’s curls away from her eyes. "I don’t want you to get hurt again. You started playing this game far too early."

Angel sobered, nodding her agreement. She hadn’t questioned her involvement with Soulchaser, rationalizing that anything that ultimately earned his trust would be worthwhile. She’d pursued her enjoyment as a reward for her service.

Soulchaser was Calante. The Calante enslaved her kind. The Calante had killed her parents. The Calante would take Anthony from her and kill the rest of their family — or worse. The Calante would use their family against them to force Angel and Anthony to work for them, if they knew what their true power was and how it worked.

Angel brushed her fingers over the scar on her chest, fighting back her anger. I was seven! I wasn’t supposed to be fighting a war. No. No one else could have done what she and Anthony had that day.

She nodded. "I will Debra. I will never forget what the Calante are capable of." The next time she encountered Soulchaser, he would fall to her hands as she had fallen to his. Then he would remember what it meant to be alive. Before Angel was done with him, Soulchaser would want something she could offer, at least one of things she could offer.

Chapter Three

Julien stared at the ceiling, frustrated with himself and with his errant body. He wanted her. Angel’s responsive nature was enough to drive Julien crazy, but he had to stay rooted in the reality of the situation. Angel was Grellan, and she had a reason — a hidden purpose for the things she did. Whatever her reason, could he trust her?

His mind warred on that subject. His training said he couldn’t. The Grellan killed his father. It was a societal axiom that her kind were not to be trusted. Julien sighed. His powers told him something vastly different. Angel was honest and earnest in her dealings with him.

Or was she? Julien could lie to the old man, a perfect cover for his true purpose. Could Angel do the same? He grudgingly admitted that it was possible. He’d wondered whether she was capable of manipulating the strands she left behind, erasing bits she didn’t want him to see. She might be able to hide her true intentions if her power allowed it, but a real-time strand could not be faked. A strand was a bit of the person’s essence. A strand never lied.

Julien chuckled, drawing the smell and taste of Angel’s climax into his body. That had been no act. For those few moments, Angel had been need unleashed in his hands and his mind.

He rolled off the bed, smiling. He would know what Angel’s purpose was soon enough. Julien was highly trained. His body would obey his mind, while Angel could be made a traitor to herself.

Julien pasted on a stern face as he rode the stairpad down to the east exit. Firebrand stood, flicking a blue fireball from hand to hand like a third-year cadet.

"On report," Julien barked, making his displeasure clear.

Firebrand straightened, the fireball flying up into the air and disintegrating into a puff of smoke. He met Julien’s eyes, nodding sheepishly. "I deserve it," he admitted.

"It’s a week of extra duties this time, isn’t it?"

The boy nodded.

"The old man isn’t going to be happy," Julien noted.

"I know." Firebrand grimaced at the idea of incurring the old man’s wrath.

Julien nodded. "Report to him. Now."

"But, you," he began uncertainly.

"The others will see me back."

Firebrand nodded and turned away, his face showing a good deal of the agony he was feeling at the order Julien gave him. It was a harsh lesson. Being sent back from assignment for a disciplinary was one of the worst things that could happen to a new operative. Rumors would be circulating that Soulchaser was looking to replace Firebrand by the time he hit the Academy.

Chances were that Firebrand feared that very thing. If Julien dismissed him, he would return to police duties, and Firebrand’s duties had been high-temperature disposals, some of the most boring work a power could be assigned.

Julien felt for him. Like most Calante, Firebrand would not have chosen to serve, but the law was the law. Powers who did not serve as operatives of the Calante were renegades — Grellan. Their powers represented a sacred trust. The ancient texts stated, "With great power comes great responsibility." The ones born with powers were born to serve. Anyone who refused his or her responsibility to safeguard life and keep the peace broke with that sacred trust.

Firebrand’s breach of faith had been a minor one, but minor infractions led to major ones. The humans they protected were unnerved by unnecessary displays of power. Making the humans fear them defeated the Calante’s purpose. Not to mention that Firebrand’s actions denoted a lack of control.

Julien mused over his own actions as he took the walkway to Sky Master at the north exit. Was he doing the same things he’d penalized Firebrand for? Unarguably, Julien had been lying to the old man for most of his life, but his lies had been largely unrelated to his missions — until now. Julien sighed. That would change when he reached the Academy.

He was pursuing a sexual relationship with a Grellan suspect, connecting to her consciousness. The fact that he continued on his course had less to do with his duty than his libido, and that was flirting with treason.

* * **

"Well?" the old man asked impatiently.

Julien scowled at him. "You sent in other operatives before I got there — Seabeast, Birdspeaker and Mindtouch."

Adrien paled, his eyes going wide in shock.

"Yes, old man. I felt their presence, and it interfered with the strands," he accused.

"How—"

"I felt them. I feel everyone to some extent. So, what did Mindtouch tell you?"

He darkened. "Nothing. Nothing that you haven’t already told us."

Julien dropped into the chair closest to his desk, rubbing his neck. "You all but ruined my ability to read the strands and got nothing in return?" he asked acidly. "Why did you waste my time?"

"All but ruined it?" Adrien questioned. "Then you got something?"

"Despite your meddling." It wouldn’t do to claim that he hadn’t gotten anything. Adrien might decide to reassign him. "The fifth Grellan is named Starfire. He is a boy. I’d estimate him at roughly seventeen years old, but he’s powerful. He also has an ailment that I haven’t managed to nail down yet."

Adrien nodded. "Anything else?"

"Everything else was muddled, trampled. Sending in the others destroys the spin and weave of the strands. Not for the others but for Starfire and Starseeker."

"Very well. I will give you an untainted field next time. You have my word. In trade—" Adrien stroked his chin, seemingly deep in thought.

Julien raised an eyebrow. The old man knew better than to place pressure on an operative when he wanted something. "Yes?"

"Find out how they travel in and out of the city without being detected by the checkpoints and identi-card checks."

"I’ll do my best. You know I can only read what is in the strands."

"I know. Get some sleep. You look worn."

Julien smiled weakly and left the office.

He ambled toward his quarters, taking time to watch the younger cadets training with their mentors. Most operatives were given classes to teach once they graduated from police service. Julien was only assigned to the most stubborn of the cadets. Anything else was deemed a waste of his time. At the moment, no one was considered enough of a problem to be sent his way. On some level, it bothered Julien that it was considered a punishment to be one of his students.

Sky Master had three fourth-year students in the smaller skydome, the one with mesh blocking the open sky-panels and a padded floor. Water Demon had her hands full with a reluctant first-year sea-mutant. Many students feared their powers and their trainers, at first. It wasn’t unusual, but that didn’t make ignoring their distress any easier.

Julien sighed and turned into the training room. The strands of fear from this one were especially strong. If Julien didn’t step in now, the child would be sent to the old man, then most likely, assigned to Julien. If he acted now, he might be able to save her the embarrassment and terror of facing Adrien.

Water Demon nodded to him. "You need to speak to me, Soulchaser?" she rasped. As always, she sounded out of breath. The strain of forcing human speech past her uncooperative body style was not something he felt she should attempt.

The child looked at him, stark fear in her pretty lavender eyes.

Julien sank to his knees, ignoring the seawater soaking his pantlegs; the heavy liquid pungent in proteins, electrolytes, and minerals that even the purification system for drinking water couldn’t completely remove. He shook his head, reaching to uncover the child’s face. She wasn’t a gilled mutant like Water Demon was, and her cover was equipped to let her breathe underwater.

"Her name is Sealife," Water Demon offered.

Sealife darkened, her eyes disappearing behind the frosted sea-lenses that most sea-mutants had. It was a protective response that they learned to overcome with time. Sealife forced the lenses back, going a deeper crimson in embarrassment that she had succumbed to that childlike response. Children can be very cruel, Patrice. Yes. If the other young cadets had seen that, they would have been cruel to her, though they might still do it themselves in the same situation.

"Am I in trouble?" she asked meekly.

He smiled. "No. Even if you were, I am not your trainer or one of the trustees. People don’t get assigned to me until they have been sent to the trustees. I simply want you to be at ease with your training." And with me. I don’t want the children to fear me.

Julien closed his eyes and stroked her bare cheek, letting Sealife’s strands weave into his being. She was ten, typical for a first-year cadet. Her powers were primarily in communication with sea animals. The change was jarring, the loss of her life and identity. She was unhappy at the Academy as most first-years were, knowing that they would train for eight years and serve their lifetimes, always alone.

Sealife was more alone than most. She came to the Academy as an orphan. Julien felt for her. When he left his home, he tried to convince himself that he’d see his mother again. The law said he would. The old man said he would. But the old man and the law couldn’t hold a candle to fate. Before his first visiting day arrived, Patrice was dead, the victim of a murder that was never solved. His trainers claimed that Julien had simply been a victim of circumstance. There was no chance that he was a precognitive. The tests never revealed that he was, and Julien was thankful for that. That was one power he had never wanted.

He leaned close to her ear, peeling the synth-cloth back over her deep brown hair without opening his eyes. "Do you trust me?" he whispered.

She sucked in her breath in surprise, latching onto his hidden meaning. "Yes." She did. She was desperate for someone she could trust.

"Then I will call you Jennifer — when no one else can hear." Julien opened his eyes as her joy assaulted him. "Would you like that?" he offered loud enough for Water Demon to overhear.

Jennifer threw her arms around his neck and hugged Julien to her damp body. "Yes. Thank you, Soulchaser."

He sobered. Julien could trust Jennifer enough to give her his name, but now was not the time to give the old man a hold over him. Julien had avoided that for half of his life. "For every deal, payment comes due," he warned her. "You promise to follow Water Demon’s instructions?"

"I do." Jennifer scrambled to the edge of the seawater pool and straightened her synth-cloth cover over her head and face. She slid into the water with a wave at Julien.

Water Demon watched her go, her short, pointed teeth showing in her gaping mouth. "What did you promise her?"

Julien pushed to his feet. "A little normal conversation," he lied.

"Thank you for your assistance. I would have had to send her to the old man soon."

"Your unit is your family," he quoted the Academy teachings.

Julien left quickly, something nameless eating at his gut. No. His relationship with Water Demon wasn’t a family. His new friendship with Jennifer was more of a family than his unit was to him. He’d never considered telling his unit his true name. It never hurt to hold it back from them. He wanted to tell Jennifer, and he wanted to tell Angel. What Angel had with her unit was a family. No one was afraid to use anyone else’s true name.

He shook away that thought. Julien remembered family, though it was a family where he couldn’t call his father by his true name. He also remembered how fragile that link was. Julien should have had two more years with his mother, but after the Grellan killed his father, the old man convinced his mother to turn him over early — for his protection.

Julien still wondered at that. The Grellan were seldom seen. They seldom killed Calante. Even if Empathen was one of the rare casualties, why would Julien be in danger? At the time, he had been nothing but an untrained child.

Chapter Four

Julien closed the door to the living quarters, cursing himself for his lack of patience. It had been ten days since he’d contacted Angel, but it felt like months. His dreams had been full of nothing but her, and Julien had woken hard and needing more nights than he cared to remember.

He kicked off his shoes, letting the carpet caress the soles of his feet. The strands surrounded him, making his senses swim in the flood of knowledge. He knew these people intimately — all but the two he needed to know. Julien laid his jacket on the back of a chair, stopping long enough to take in a clear memory of Angel. She hated blackberries with a passion.

Julien smiled as he unzipped his cover, sliding it off his shoulders. He tossed it over the jacket then pulled a packet from the pocket. Julien picked up the beacon, letting it lay heavily in his hand for a long moment. No. Angel wanted proof of his trust. If he was going to prove that, he had to go to her conspicuously empty-handed. He shoved the beacon back in the cover pocket and fingered the condom he still held. Well, not entirely empty-handed.

He took a deep breath and strode to the bedroom door. Her scent tantalized him. The feeling of her body surrounded him. Julien closed his eyes, giving himself up to the connection.

Angel’s mouth was on his; tasting, teasing, demanding. Her hands traced over his chest and pushed, guiding him back to the door. Julien moaned as her mouth left his. She nipped at his jaw, rubbing the tips of her breasts over his male nipples. Julien’s half-erect cock rose, matching his skyrocketing need. He bent his knees, capturing her mouth as he rubbed the head in the moisture gathering for him. Angel gasped as she rocked over him in invitation.

"You know what I want," Julien whispered. He reminded himself that he should remain in control, but something about Angel defied that concept.

"No. We can’t. Not unless you trust me."

Julien cupped her buttocks, pulling Angel’s body tight to his. The urge to ease inside her beat at his tenuous self-control. He wanted it too much, much more than was prudent. And, she’d refused. Julien couldn’t take her, even this way, without permission.

He nipped at her ear. "What do you want from me? Why do you want me to come to you like this?" A sneaking suspicion that she was trying to drive him crazy settled in his mind.

"You have to trust me."

"I can’t. You know that I can’t."

"You’re here with me. You’re completely unguarded." Her smile widened. "You even left your beacon behind, yet I have made no move to injure you. Part of you wants to trust me."

Angel rocked against his length, coating him in the sensation of her fluids. "Or maybe you just want this," she mused.

Yes. Oh, gods alive, yes! "No. Trust me, and I will trust you."

"How?"

"Tell me how you travel. How do you get in and out of the city without being seen?"

"When you trust me completely, I will trust you with that." Angel bit at his lower lip. "Ask something else," she invited.

"How did you form your family?" The question was out before Julien analyzed why he would want to know it.

Angel looked at him in surprise. She kissed him, her tongue tangling with his. Julien gasped as memories of Angel and Anthony stumbling through the wilderness sifted into his mind. They were ragged, dirty, and bloodied. Debra found them and took them to the others.

Julien nodded. "And your parents?"

"Dead. Killed by the Calante." There was no animosity in that statement, just a deep sadness.

"Interesting," he noted. Julien found her breast more interesting, the nipple turning to a peak at his touch.

"Is it?" she asked, mirroring motions with the same results from his body.

Julien met her eyes. "It is.." He watched her for a response, carefully gauging her emotions in the strands that surrounded them. "Your parents were killed by Calante. My father was killed by Grellan."

Angel gasped, her eyes going wide. Strands of disbelief and confusion wound around her, almost but not completely masking a single strand of sadness and anger entwined.

"Very interesting, don’t you think?" he asked.

She nodded. "You must hate us," she whispered.

Julien stroked her breast again. He should hate them, but with Angel in his arms, her consciousness touching his, hate was the last thing on his mind. "I want you," he admitted.

Angel eased down his body. "Trust me as I trusted you."

He barely had time to question what she meant when Angel’s mouth closed around his cock and slid deep around him. His hands fisted against the door, fisted on a condom that Julien vaguely realized he should put on. There was no fear of infection or pregnancy. Rather, without a physical body encasing him, Julien would come into the air, a mess he would have to eradicate later.

He watched her taking him into the heat of her mouth, encasing him in a slice of paradise. This had always been his favorite way to come. Julien bit his lip. The condom be damned! He’d scrub at the stain before he’d make her stop what she was doing.

Julien panted, as she became more insistent. The suction of her mouth increased, inviting him to forget his careful control. Long red, ringlets of her hair teased his inner thigh, and one of her breasts brushed the skin above his knee. Angel’s fingers traced the taut muscles of his legs, cupping the swollen sac beneath his cock. Her fingernails scraped lightly as she forced him deep inside.

His lungs ceased to function for a moment, and bright colors swam before his eyes. The instant of release crashed over him. Julien allowed a shuddering groan to pass his lips as he gave in to the need to surrender control to her. Her mouth continued to move, forcing his body past the peak and toward another.

Julien sank to his knees, and Angel went with him. He wound his hands in her hair, watching her take him ruthlessly. "Please," he begged. Anything. Almost anything, he corrected himself.

The second climax came faster. There was a vague sensation of heat — a realization of fluid on his hands. Julien’s mind argued that she wasn’t real, but that thought was washed away as aftershocks shook him. Angel was real. She was more real than any person Julien had met since he started his training. There were no masks, no fake names, no fake emotions or lack of them.

She released his length and pushed up his body, her breasts pressing to the wall of his chest and her breath hot on his mouth. Angel teased at his lips, sucking in first the top and then the bottom slowly. That simply, he wanted her again.

Her hand feathered over his cheek. "You are completely unguarded, at your weakest physically and emotionally," she reminded him. "I want nothing but your trust." Angel kissed him passionately, stroking at his body. "Trust me, Soulchaser."

"What must I do to prove that I trust you?" Almost anything…

"You know how a Calante shows trust. Prove you trust me, and you will have everything you desire most."

"What do I desire most?" he asked weakly.

/"Family. Freedom. The truth." She brushed her curls over his half-grown cock. "And me."

Julien nodded. She knew everything he wanted most, but he had a duty. Julien had taken vows. But, not of my own choice. If I didn’t serve, I would have been hunted down. "I—" I want to. Gods, how I want to.

Angel nodded. "Come to me again."

He groaned. Julien wanted her desperately, but having her meant breaking the most sacred of laws, trusting a Grellan and telling her his true name. "I shouldn’t," he replied miserably.

"You will," she replied confidently. "Even if you don’t desire me that much, you want the other things I’ve offered. You want the truth."

Julien gathered her close to his body. "I want you," he assured her.

Angel faded from his arms then from his mind. "When you trust me." She was gone, the last of her strands disappearing with her.

He growled in frustration. Julien knelt in a dim room, his come on his hands and the carpet. He wanted her desperately. What kind of a damned fool was he that he wanted her this much?

Julien retrieved a cloth from the bathroom and started cleaning the evidence of his treason. He shouldn’t go to her again, but he would. Angel represented everything Julien wanted, but taking it would make him Grellan like she was.

* * * *

Angel launched off of the bed, pulling on her robe. They damn well should have told me, she fumed. She stormed into the main room, taking in the hazy sunshine filtering through the vines over the windows in annoyance.

Debra looked at her in concern. "What is it?"

"They told him we killed his father," Angel exploded. "How am I supposed to get him to trust me this way?"

Paul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two callused fingers. "What did you expect them to tell him? The truth?"

"Soulchaser—" Angel blushed. She wasn’t talking to him now. "Sorry. I have to think of him as Soulchaser. If I don’t, I may say something stupid."

Debra nodded. "He has to offer his name willingly. The shock of hearing it from you without that step could be catastrophic to him. Julien has not heard his name spoken aloud since the night Jake died."

"He is so fragile," Angel whispered.

Paul nodded. "It is what the Calante do to their kind, what the Academies and their service do."

Debra sighed. "We made a promise to Jake — The adults did, but you are not bound by it. If you would rather not do this—"

"No," Angel gasped. "No. I owe Jake that much. I — owe Jake everything." She retreated to her room, pressing a shaking hand to her stomach, glad that Anthony was off somewhere with Sylvia and not here to feel her reliving that horrible moment. Even if Angel didn’t want Julien, she owed it to Jake to save his son. The moment Jake placed himself between her and death, Angel vowed as much.

Chapter Five

Julien smiled as Jennifer collapsed in a giggling fit. He motioned to the book in her hand. "It’s true. There was a time on Earth when there were no powers. People depended solely on human police and weapons to keep themselves safe. There were wars and violence in the streets — not like we have now. I mean that there were murders every week in any large city you visited. It was a truly frightening way to live."

"Is that why our people came to Suraden?" she asked solemnly.

He nodded. "Earth had torn itself apart before the age of the powers. When Dr. Suraden discovered this world, those with the means to make the trip came here for a new life."

"But there were no powers among them?" she asked curiously.

"No. There were not. According to the early histories of our world, the powers stayed on Earth to protect those who needed them most."

"Then how did the powers get here? Did they settle the upheavals on Earth and come to help us?"

Julien sighed. He’d always thought that even pure humans should be taught the tales. As it was, the only cadets who came to the Academy with a firm grasp of history were those who were raised by parents who were both operatives, those few who chose to live inside the main complex.

"Every human has within them the potential to mutate to a power — to a higher form of being with the ability to protect. It only took a few dozen generations for the mutants to begin appearing among us, the blessed first few who formed the first Academy."

Jennifer nodded, taking up the stories she’d only recently learned. "Anicore, who was once known as Calan, Sky Father, who was once known as Thomas, and Mind Mother, who was once known as Grelda."

He nodded his approval. "Go on."

"They disagreed. Anicore believed that the Academy should adopt the ideals set forth by the ancients on Earth. Mind Mother wanted to start fresh, to create a new system for a new world. In the end, they battled. Sky Father and the others who supported Anicore gathered in the inner cities and called themselves the Calante. Those who supported Mind Mother mobilized in the outer ring cities and called themselves the Grellan.

"The tales don’t say why they disagreed. Why would Mind Mother reject a system that had worked so well on Earth? The massive wars before the time of the powers all but destroyed Earth, but humans were gaining peace and prosperity under the powers’ protection."

"On a broken world that would take centuries to fix, if it could be fixed at all," Julien reminded her. "I don’t know why Mind Mother balked at the system."

Then why am I questioning it so much lately? It was treason to question the laws that guided the Calante, but the more Julien looked at his existence — at the world he and those like him inhabited, the more seemingly unnecessary hardships he noticed. Was this what the Mind Mother foresaw? Perhaps the Academies on Earth hadn’t been in place long enough to gauge long-term psychological effects.

Julien shook off that thought. No matter what her reasons, Mind Mother led a civil uprising against the Academy. The battles of the first few generations were bloody and brutal. What possible defense could there be for causing such unrest on a peaceful world?

"I don’t know her reasons," he repeated. "The histories don’t say why, but she started a war over it, the only war on Suraden."

The victors write the histories. His father told Julien that not long before he died. Empathen — Jake, his mind supplied his father’s name, the name that it was illegal for him to say aloud — believed in that saying enough to teach Julien that it was true, but had Jake been wrong? After all, the Grellan killed Empathen. Were the old tales wrong? Or was Jake the one who had been wrong?

* * * *

Julien nodded to the old man grimly as he took his seat across the desk.

Adrien steepled his hands, a sure sign that he wasn’t sure what to do with Julien. It was a pose that he had seen often since the old man lost the ability to read his mind eleven years earlier. "I wanted to speak to you about the last time you went to a scene."

He nodded, forcing down a mixture of panic and embarrassment behind a careful mask of indifference. It had been three days. Julien had felt he was safe from any backlash after two. He should have known not to allow himself to become complacent. "I’ve debriefed that account for you," he noted calmly.

"Everything?" he asked pointedly.

"Anything of use to us." That was a safe enough answer. "You always trained us to disregard extraneous knowledge."

"Then tell me everything."

Julien furrowed his brow, as if in confusion. "Why don’t you tell me what has you confused," he countered, a bold challenge of the old man’s authority. Why am I doing this? He can crush me. Only if he believes I am guilty of something. Yes. This tack might work.

Adrien darkened in fury. Strands of it escaped the old man’s tactician control. "You masturbated there. Explain that, Soulchaser."

Julien smiled, shaking his head while he fervently searched for a lie that would save him from that synth-cloth-padded room. "Night Warrior and Moon Current are a couple, a married couple. They — engaged in some rather interesting sexual antics, and I encountered the strands. I have a man’s needs. Play a memory of sex complete with wisps of sensation, and I respond. But, their antics were hardly important to the report."

"So, you are sitting there telling me that you beat off to their mental sex tape on assignment?" he demanded incredulously.

Julien allowed a blush to creep into his cheeks. That sure as hell beats admitting the truth. "It was less of a distraction than trying to sift around it. You know that letting strands play out is easier than ignoring them." He scowled. "Even when strands are murders." He reminded Adrien of his early days on street crime. Julien had paid his dues in the nightmare images that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

"There is nothing else you have to tell me?" He was testing Julien’s shield again, trying to gauge him for a lie.

"Nothing."

"Then go about your duties," he ordered.

Julien nodded and headed to the door, trailing his fingers over the surface of the old man’s desk deliberately. Adrien seemed not to notice. Perhaps, he viewed the move in amusement. Julien wasn’t sure what he intended even as he did it. The old man never left strands for Julien to read. Either he spent all day in synth-cloth to avoid a repeat of their first night together, or he used a comm unit of some sort to wipe his office clean before Julien came in.

No. He hadn’t used a comm unit. There were strong strands in the room. Three first-years had been to the office that morning. One of them was Jennifer. Her terror made Julien ache for her.

He stilled as Visionchaser’s essence assaulted his mind. The trustee had always been high-strung, and his panic was not unusual, but the panic wasn’t what stopped Julien.

The memory was crisp. Visionchaser — Larry Meyer — sat forward with his fingertips pressed to the desktop. "What if he’s become a traitor like his father?"

"We will handle it as we did the last time," Adrien answered calmly.

The vision was gone as quickly as it had come. Julien lifted his hand and ambled toward the door.

"Something interesting, Soulchaser?" Adrien drawled in that same suspicious, challenging tone.

"Sealife was in to see you, and she was very upset. I should check on her."

"You spend quite a bit of time with her," he noted.

"She’s a smart little girl, and she’s very powerful. Sealife will be a handsome asset to a unit someday, better than Water Demon, by far."

"Ah. I see. You’re recruiting from the cadets again."

Julien forced a predatory smile onto his face. "A good leader never rests."

Adrien chuckled, but there was something uneasy in his manner. "No. He doesn’t."

Julien headed for his quarters, barely taking note of the cadets at their training, waving distractedly as Firebrand instructed third-year cadets in fireball control.

Traitor? If there was any question in his mind that Visionchaser meant himself and Jake, Julien might not be so affected, but there was no question. The strand left no doubt. Julien couldn’t argue that he was acting the part of a traitor, but had Jake done the same? Perhaps, not a sexual encounter. That was unlikely. By all accounts, Jake doted on Patrice. Still, there were other forms of treason.

Julien closed the door to his quarters slowly. His eyes locked on the shelf lined with his father’s mementos and medals. Pieces of Jake’s life and not a single strand of his father’s essence to lead Julien, not a single memory to tell the truth.

I have to think logically. What do I have of him to guide me? The answer came, but Julien resisted it. Jake taught him. He left pieces of his wisdom behind for his son to learn from. The problem was that Julien always argued what Jake taught him versus what his training said. Maybe he needed to take every comment as a truth and see where it led him. What did he teach me?

The victors write the histories. The histories of Suraden were written by the Calante. That was suspect. If the histories were suspect, the axioms and accepted truths were suspect. The Grellan might not be what he had been taught they were.

For every rule, there is an exception. Julien was brought into service two years early. No cadet was brought into service early unless his or her powers posed a danger to child or society — except Julien. Perhaps, there were other exceptions. Was every Grellan a traitor? Should even the laws that governed the Calante be absolute? But, what were the acceptable reasons for an exception?

Julien shrugged off that maddening idea. Until a few moments earlier, he hadn’t acknowledged the possibility that the rules might not be absolute. Defining it further was too much for his mind to process.

Always trust your gut instinct about people. Who did Julien trust? Jake and Patrice topped the list, but that was a dead end. He groaned at his own pun. Jennifer? Yes. Julien trusted Jennifer, but it wasn’t wise to show that openly. Using her name showed less vulnerability than allowing her to use his. Did he trust Angel?

Julien shifted nervously. Don’t use your mind, he reminded himself. Don’t think what you were trained to think. From the gut. Do you trust Angel? Logic was the wrong course. Logic said that he should trust the old man, but Julien never had. He took a deep breath. It was time for another of Jake’s teachings.

Have faith that your heart will lead you. When you meet a true confidant, you will ache to bare your soul to her. Julien nodded, biting back a laugh. He trusted Angel. He’d always wanted to trust her on some instinctive level.

Chapter Six

Angel took a deep breath, stretching out on the bed and following the draw of Soulchaser’s mind. He looked up as she approached, nervous. He was fully dressed. Angel sighed. She’d pushed too far the last time. His loss of control must have shaken him.

She smiled. "I’ve made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry."

He shook his head, pulling Angel into his arms and covering her mouth with his. His movements were urgent, a pressing need that made her ache for him. A week had been too long.

Angel groaned, reminding herself that it was only his mind she was touching, only a simulation she felt — the interaction of thoughts and desires.

"I want you," he breathed into her ear.

She shivered. Angel wanted it, too. She’d dreamed of allowing him free rein, but she’d set a rule for him, a level of trust he had to prove to her. "Not until—"

"I trust you."

Angel blinked. She pulled back to meet his eyes. "You—" She had to have misheard him. It was too much to hope that she had been successful so quickly.

"My name is Julien," he whispered. His eyes darted about as if he would be punished for saying it aloud.

She gasped in surprise, nodding. "Julien." Angel was dumbstruck. He’d actually said it. For weeks, she’d wondered what she would do if he gave her a fake name to try and trick her, and he told her the truth.

He blushed. "Yes.."

Angel touched his face. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Julien Cross."

His eyes widened. "You’ve always known?"

She nodded. "You had to offer me that trust. Thank you." Her mind whirled, and her body heated. She drew his hand to her breast. "I made you a promise," she reminded him. Angel should be securing his safety, but rewarding his trust had to come first.

Julien stared at his hand, swallowing hard. "Not here. They suspect too much. I need— I need to give them something, something significant to throw them off my trail." He met her eyes hopefully. "Or will you tell me how to get past the checkpoints? If I leave now— You promised."

"I can’t show you now. You’ll have to come to me one more time."

Julien tried to rein in his disappointment, but Angel felt it clearly across the connection. He nodded, biting back a grimace that he had to go back to them. For a mad moment, Angel considered finding a way to free him immediately, but there was no way she and Anthony could arrange that on such short notice.

Angel shook her head. "I will take you safely out, but you have to come to me at a pre-arranged time, and you must trust me."

He nodded, a shaky nod. "Where and when?"

"Six days from now at sunset. Come to the place where you first touched me. Julien—" She bit her lip.

"Yes?"

"You do trust me, don’t you? You would leave with me now, if you could?"

He took a calming breath. "Yes. I trust you implicitly." Julien wound his hand in her hair.

Angel sighed in relief. "Good. Then I promise that you’ll leave with me that night."

He grimaced. "I still need something to tell them. What can I tell them?"

She smiled. "Tell them we are operating out of the armory outside the north gate of the city. Tell them now, as soon as you get downstairs."

His eyes widened. "If I do—"

"Hurry. Use your comm unit if you want to. I guarantee you will miss us by minutes, no matter what you do."

"They will track you down. My unit is the best."

"Impossible. Run, Julien. I’ll race you. Do you remember that game?"

He nodded and turned toward the door.

"Run, Julien. Make a good show for them."

Angel returned to her body, as he bolted for the door, pulling his comm unit from his jacket pocket and switching it on. The race was on.

She launched into the main room, smiling widely. Julien trusted her. He’d come with them.

Debra looked up in surprise. "Angel," she admonished. "You’re—"

Angel waved her off. She would have to be naked to make the jump. It was simply her appearance this way that caught Debra off guard. "We’re leaving. Take anything of importance."

Sylvia gaped at her. "He’s turned us in," she managed weakly.

Angel laughed aloud. "No. He hasn’t. But, to save him, we have to let it seem he’s almost caught us. Hurry. They are on their way."

The others scattered. They carried little with them, so collecting their belongings took only a moment. The helos were already approaching when Anthony grasped her hand. Sylvia looked at them nervously. This would be a close one but not their closest. She and Anthony wrapped the others in their shared power. They were long gone before the door burst open.

* * * *

Julien kept his expression studiously neutral. She’d done it. Angel had escaped without a trace. He moved through the room, touching items at random. "They’ve been here fairly steadily for more than two months." The whole time they have been playing cat and mouse with me. "The strands are strong. They’ve only been gone for a few minutes."

"How?" Firebrand demanded.

Julien shook his head. He stopped as a particularly strong mix of power, nervousness, and giddy happiness coursed through his body. Julien sank to the floor, closing his eyes as he opened himself fully to the sensations.

"What is it?" Sky Master asked.

Julien raised a hand to silence him then returned it to the floor. The pulse coursed through him again, an elusive strand. He drew it into himself and turned his face up.

Angel smiled as Anthony took her hand. Light surrounded them. It was beautiful but bright. Julien winced. Too bright! The sensation started at his toes and rushed up his body, a sense of loosing himself, of being sucked down a vortex of light and sound.

Julien threw himself out of the circle with a vicious curse. His eyes snapped open, but the colors remained, blinding colors that sent shards of pain through his mind. For a moment, the sensation of mind and body disassociating persisted. Julien fought back his panic, taking a wild swing at Sky Master when the older man reached for him. He didn’t know what this was. If Sky Master touched Julien, it might well kill him.

He cried out as the sensation eased. His strangled breathing smoothed, and Julien relaxed to the floor. Everything seemed to dim. Colors were muted and dull.

Sky Master checked his pulse. "Medical, now," he ordered.

"What the hell was that?" Firebrand roared.

"Med-flight. STAT," Water Demon rasped into the comm unit. "It’s Soulchaser."

"No," Julien managed weakly. "The strands." He grasped at Sky Master’s cover, his muscles leaden and uncertain. Julien stared at his shaking hand in dismay. "No. The strands." The electronics would destroy the weave.

"Easy," Sky Master soothed him. "We lost this round. Whatever that was is better destroyed, Soulchaser."

Julien’s protest was lost in the sound of a helo’s turbines. Medical red filled his vision as his eyes slid shut.

* * * *

"He’s coming up, sir."

Julien couldn’t place that voice. It was female, not a woman he knew.

"Good," Adrien growled.

Julien licked his lips. His mouth was dry and his body ached.

"Soulchaser," the first voice called again. "I know you can hear me, Soulchaser. Give me a sign."

Julien forced his eyes open. The sea lavender walls swam before him. He cursed softly. They stuck him in medical. No operative wanted to end up in medical. For some reason, the med-techs always believed in putting the powers through hell when they were in, as if they were fragile.

"He knows where he is," Adrien chuckled.

Julien swung his eyes back to Adrien, moving tenderly. He took in the doctor in surprise, scanning his eyes over the white identi-card on her red work cover. "Human?" he asked.

She nodded. "We do have some talents," she teased.

"I’m sorry. I just thought—"

"Quite all right. We were closer."

"What the hell happened?" Julien demanded weakly, trying to raise an arm to rub his neck, and finding the task nearly impossible.

"Medically? Shock complicated by an electrical imbalance — roughly the same thing that would happen if you got hit by a sonic wave unit blast coupled with a lightening strike," she answered dryly.

"Lovely," he growled. "That’s about what it felt like."

She winced. "You’re stuck here overnight," she informed him. "After that, your own people will handle you — beside the ones they have camped in the hall protecting you now."

"How long have I been out?"

"Overnight." She headed to the door, nodding to Adrien. "He’s stable, sir. I’ll leave you alone now."

Adrien smiled warmly. "My thanks, doctor, and the Calante’s thanks as well." The old man waited until the door closed behind her. When he turned back to Julien, the smile was gone. "What the hell did you think you were doing, Soulchaser?"

"My job. How was I supposed to know it would bite back?"

"You’re trained to know."

"You didn’t train me for that," Julien groused.

"What precisely was that?"

"If I knew what it was, I would have been trained for it."

Adrien glared at him.

Julien sighed. He was too damn tired to spar with the old man today. "I don’t know. Light. Pain. A feeling that I wasn’t — there."

Adrien nodded. "Understood. Who did it?"

"Did?" he asked in confusion.

"Which of the Grellan tried to kill you?" Adrien asked impatiently.

"Kill me? You think that was a trap?"

"Of course. It’s the same way they killed your father. Luckily, you have faster reflexes than Empathen did."

Julien let his anger have free rein, though he hid his mind carefully. He was angry, and Adrien would accept that, but Julien wouldn’t let the old man know why he was angry. Julien had no doubts that Adrien was lying to him.

We will handle it as we did last time.

Julien pasted on a weak smile. "Yes. I watch my back much better than Empathen did."

Chapter Seven

Julien took a deep breath, scanning his eyes over his quarters, hopefully for the last time. He couldn’t take anything with him. It would look suspicious if he did. He straightened his mandarin collar and smoothed the shirtfront over his dress slacks. Julien took another deep breath. It was show time.

He ambled through the corridors, waving to other powers as he went, assuring those who asked that he was fit and ready to return to duty when his ten-day restriction from duty was lifted. Julien smiled and handed his identi-card to the guard at the door.

"Afternoon, Soulchaser," Ice Warden greeted him. "Have to check the database."

Julien raised an eyebrow. "For?"

"Have to make sure you’re cleared for this."

He nodded. That wasn’t surprising. Julien had spent the day after his release from the civilian medical center in the Academy medical wing. The following two days, Julien had been confined to his quarters then the Academy. He had begun to worry that he would still be on lockdown when Angel came for him.

Ice Warden grinned, his pale blue eyes crinkling over his snow-white cheeks. He handed Julien’s identi-card back. "All clear, Soulchaser. Have a nice day."

"I will. I haven’t had a full day out for a long time."

"With great power comes great responsibility," he quoted.

Julien nodded. "Yes. It does."

* * * *

It didn’t take Julien long to realize that he was being followed. The three operatives were good, but they weren’t good enough.

With more than five hundred operatives and cadets in the city, it was a given that other operatives had the day off. They were all dressed in civilian clothes as Julien was. Any power capable of blending into the populace did so to avoid the usual power-chasers, humans who wanted to bed powers for the thrill or for bragging rights. Of course, their identi-cards would identify them when they paid, but most operatives frequented establishments that were discreet about what they were.

The identi-cards told even the most casual observer all they needed to know. If the standard white card was edged in green, the bearer was a cadet through fourth year. Blue denoted an older cadet. Yellow marked an operative, and red marked a unit leader like Julien. Only metallic gold outranked him. Gold marked a trustee.

No. They might have been operatives out for R and R, but they weren’t. After Julien noted two of the three in each of his first two stops, a coffee shop and a bookstore, he purposely led them all over the city. As he expected, two of the given three appeared at the music shop and clotherie he chose to visit.

Then came the acid test. Julien chose a restaurant near the tower he needed that was typically overrun with power-chasers, not the type of place that most operatives would frequent. Even cadets tired of power-chasers quickly, once the novelty wore off.

Julien sipped his coffee, glancing at the two who followed him in through his lashes. What now? If he went to Angel, he’d lead these three bozos in. If he didn’t go, he’d blow his chance at everything she offered.

He went to the restroom, considering slipping out a window or a back door, but one of the operatives followed him in. Julien went about a normal bathroom routine, checking his watch critically. It was less than an hour until sunset. Whatever he did, Julien would have to do it soon.

Julien nodded to the operative at the sink on his way past, resisting the urge to brush past him to gain momentary access to the man’s thoughts. There was no need for it. Julien knew who sent them, and he knew their aim. What else did he need to know?

He needed somewhere the operatives couldn’t follow him, but where was that? Their clearance would have been expanded to match his own. There was nowhere Julien could access that they couldn’t. He was still considering his predicament as he paid his bill.

The hand that touched his as Julien accepted his identi-card back shouldn’t have surprised him. Julien had chosen this restaurant for its reputation for power-chasers, after all. The strands of her blatant invitation settled in his groin, and Julien shivered in response.

She leaned close to his ear, her full breasts brushing over his arm. "Interested?" she purred.

Julien took her hand, searching the connection. "Depends," he answered. An idea took shape. If this one wasn’t optimum to his purpose, perhaps another would be. If it meant getting to Angel, Julien would dust off his wild days of bedding power-chasers. He knew how to make it clear he was available, and a red card was a ticket to any woman he wanted — if he used it right. Few unit leaders played the game.

The information came in no certain order, as usual. She was twenty-five, an only child. Her name was Elaine. She had her own apartment. Stunning! Elaine was a major player. Soulchaser would be her seventeenth power. Her quarters were close. Good sign. They were in the same tower as the quarters Julien had to reach, second floor, outside access.

Julien grinned and kissed her knuckles. "Ever been with a psychic operative, Elaine?" She hadn’t. He knew that, and he knew the challenge of a new conquest — a unit leader, no less — would convince her to jump at almost anything he suggested.

"My place is—"

"Tower 1022," he teased, kissing her hand again. "Shall we go?"

Julien smiled the whole way to her quarters. This would work. The operatives didn’t dare follow him into Elaine’s quarters. Better, their spread would be by the book: in the hall, at the back stairpad, and in the lobby. It would be a full twenty minutes before they’d cover the other exits. They wouldn’t call in backup until they were sure that Julien intended to take his time about the liaison.

Elaine wasted no time, turning into his arms as soon as the door shut behind them. Julien allowed himself a single moment of reveling in her urgency. It had been more than three years since Julien had gone home with a power-chaser. He’d forgotten how wild sex could get when it was one who enjoyed the game.

Thirty-seven minutes, he reminded himself. Julien broke off the kiss. "Undress for me."

Elaine smiled. She stepped back, pulling off her form-fitting mini-dress and kicking off her shoes. There was nothing else to her outfit. Elaine had gone trolling for a power, and she was ready for the natural conclusion. She reached for his clothes.

Julien pulled her hands away, shaking his head at her look of confusion. "If that’s what you want, why did you choose me?" he teased.

Her eyes widened. "What did you have in mind?"

He advanced on her. "Would you rather the bed or the lounge?"

She hesitated. "The bed."

Julien motioned his head toward the bedroom, adding a hungry look that was not entirely for show. He followed Elaine in, trying to ignore the sway of her hips.

Elaine sat on the edge of the bed, striking a sultry pose with her shoulders thrown back and her breasts offered up. "What are you going to do, Soulchaser?" Her breathing was quick, already heavy in excitement.

"Promise me anything, and I will give you the ultimate rush."

Her cheeks darkened. "Which is?"

"I’ll make you come without touching you — at all." The challenge was made. He knew from experience that the answer wouldn’t take long. Either Elaine would jump at the chance, or she would ask him to define what she would be giving in return. With the level she played at, chances were that she would accept outright.

"What should I do?"

"Lie back. Close your eyes. Let go for me."

She did the first two. The third wasn’t happening. Julien sat at the edge of the bed. He leaned over Elaine and kissed her. She relaxed into the more familiar idea of his hands on her. Julien eased back, sending the appropriate sensations to her mind.

Elaine bowed her chest up to the sensation of his mouth. Her arousal washed over him, and Julien stroked his aching cock in response. He closed his eyes, using Elaine’s mind to drive the encounter.

She groaned as he supplied fingers stroking at her clit. "I thought you said you wouldn’t touch," she taunted.

Julien snapped his eyes open, checking his watch. Twenty-two minutes. He eased off the bed and strode to the open door, lounging against the frame with a grin. "I’m not," he assured her.

Elaine looked at him in surprise, and Julien mentally eased his fingers inside her. She shifted her legs wider to accommodate him as if the hand were a physical body.

"Soulchaser," she gasped. He’d heard that voice before.

"Close your eyes, Elaine. Imagine what you want me to do." That step wasn’t necessary for him to do this. Julien had used this trick many times before. Women got off on watching the hands and mouth that weren’t really there, but Julien couldn’t let Elaine watch him. It was better to let her think he needed her eyes closed.

She nodded, closing her eyes. Julien rewarded her with a slow lick over her clit that had her arching off of the bed. Julien nodded and slid from the room silently. He crossed the main room, placing his forehead against the glass door and willing his arousal back. If Julien wasn’t careful, he would climax with Elaine.

That was how this particular game started. In Julien’s earliest days with the power-chasers, he would make this offer. He’d stand close beside his partner, unclothed and ready, feeding his arousal off of hers until just before her climax. When Julien suggested the repayment he wanted, none of the women ever balked. He made a habit of delaying his release just long enough for the woman’s crest to dim to a glow before he brought the head of his cock to her lips—

Julien forced his eyes open. Not this time. Angel is waiting. He checked his watch. Nineteen minutes. Julien forced his mind to two levels, his thinking mind handling his strategy while his semi-conscious layer handled Elaine. It was no different than following strands when you didn’t allow yourself to become immersed in the flow, he reminded himself.

He opened the door and eased through. Julien raced up the outside emergency stairs. At three floors up, he started checking the corner doors. It was six floors before he found one that was both unoccupied and unlocked.

Julien closed himself inside and checked his watch. Fourteen minutes. He laughed aloud at the sound of an Academy helo. "Just in time," he mused.

He hurried through the corridors to the north corner and took the stairs further up. It was another five floors up, and Julien was winded by the time he reached the thirteenth floor. He shook in a mixture of exhaustion and sexual tension, but Julien couldn’t risk using the lifts, as he couldn’t risk using his identi-card to unlock doors.

Julien was keeping Elaine at the edges of release, holding off the moment when she would discover his absence as long as he could. Once that happened, the operatives would search for him, and a search of the tower wouldn’t take nearly long enough for Julien’s comfort. He checked his watch, groaning.

"Five minutes," he groused.

Julien checked the corridor carefully and strode to the quarters as if he belonged there. He grumbled a complaint as he kept Elaine from going over yet again. I wonder if I could screw her into unconsciousness, he thought bitterly. Julien sighed. There was little chance of that, though it would solve his current problem. If Elaine were unconscious, she couldn’t alert his shadows that Julien had ducked them.

He pushed at the door to the quarters he needed, praying for miracles and smiling at his luck — or Angel’s planning. The door was unlocked. Julien slid inside and locked it behind him. Two minutes.

It was becoming more difficult to hold Elaine off — and to order her not to seek him out with her eyes. She was begging for release, desperate for it. Two minutes, he begged. Just two minutes, and I will give you the orgasm of a lifetime.

Julien pressed his back to the door, waiting for a tap behind him announcing Angel’s arrival. He shook his head in disbelief as the blaze of white light filled the center of the near-empty room. His eyes watered, but Julien couldn’t look away. Angel and Anthony stepped out of the light, and it faded away. Julien started swearing fluently.

Chapter Eight

Angel smiled at the sight of Julien. He was really here. It was over. Her smile disappeared as he started pacing, running a shaking hand through his hair.

"You are fucking crazy if you think I’m doing that again," he growled. Julien rubbed his forehead, groaning. "Dammit! I am completely and utterly screwed."

"What is it?" she asked, confused and frightened by his explosion.

"I got distracted and let her come," he informed her miserably. "Now she knows I’m gone, and—" He stilled, paling. Julien shook his head, his jaw tight in fury. "Oh, yeah. Just perfect. They know. I can’t go back now. I am so screwed."

"You want to go back?" Angel asked indignantly. What the hell am I risking myself for?

Anthony gestured frantically.

Angel waved him off. "I am well aware that we have ten minutes or less if they are searching the tower," she snapped. She planted her hands on her hips. "I asked you a question, Julien."

Julien laughed harshly. "Well, I don’t want to travel that way again. It damn near killed me the last time. Thank you very much for that warning, by the way. I suppose I’m facing a choice of death or a synth-cloth padded cell. Lovely choice, but what do I have to lose?"

Angel groaned. "So like your father. You tapped into the power and almost got sucked along?" she asked urgently. Angel knew it was a possibility, but when Julien hadn’t appeared on the other side, she assumed he hadn’t chanced investigating a power level so high.

His eyes widened. "He did die that way," Julien accused.

"Not at all. Jake was smart enough not to fight it. Thankfully, fighting it didn’t kill you. It could have. That was why I needed your absolute trust." She smiled weakly. "If you hadn’t fought it, the jump site would have brought you straight to us, and this would all be unnecessary."

"You could have told me that," he groused. Julien stilled. "You knew my father?"

Angel went to him and took his hands, leading Julien further into the room. They were running out of time. "Yes. I did." She vaguely noted Anthony returning to the jump point.

"How did he die? The Grellan didn’t kill him, did they?"

"No. We didn’t. I will give you the whole truth when we are safe. Please trust me."

He nodded slowly, seemingly lost in the revelation that Angel was so intimately tied to him. Angel sighed. Stunned was nearly as good as accepting. It would have to be enough.

Anthony took one of her hands, casting nervous looks at Julien.

She nodded, tugging Julien’s body to hers and holding his gaze locked with hers. "Trust me," she whispered.

The energy wrapped around them. Anthony raised the level gradually, letting Julien accept it in gradients.

Julien cupped her cheek in one hand. "Promise me."

"I promise." Angel would promise him anything. It didn’t matter if he was asking for assurances that he wouldn’t be injured again, assurances that he wouldn’t regret leaving his life behind, or assurances that she would honor her promises to give him the whole truth and to make love to him once they were safe.

He stiffened as the portal formed around them.

Angel rose on tiptoe and brushed her lips over his. "Trust me," she reminded him.

Julien nodded, meeting her lips urgently. Angel gasped as his power joined the feed, coursing through her like a wave.

He raised his head, looking past her as the door swung wide. A devilish smile not unlike his father’s curved Julien’s lips. "Speed it up, Anthony," he requested. He stepped around Angel, blocking her body with his own.

Angel grasped at Julien’s clothing, memories of the night they both lost their parents searing her. She looked past him, stifling a scream of dismay as the old man raised his weapon.

Julien waved. "Goodbye, Adrien."

The old man faltered, his eyes widening. Julien laughed aloud as the room melted away outside the circle of light.

Angel closed her eyes as she felt her body make the jump — lengthening, thinning, disassociating her mind from her body. She came back to herself in the workroom, collapsing under the force of Julien’s body.

* * * *

Julien groaned. His limbs felt leaden much like they had in the hospital. The startling colors faded away, and he blinked his eyes, taking in the beige walls and banks of electronics curiously. The panels were strange, like nothing Julien had ever seen before.

Angel eased from under him, touching Julien’s face in concern. "Relax. The first time is always the hardest. You’ll be weak for several minutes. The dizziness will last longer — a few hours." She accepted a bright-colored robe from Anthony and pulled it on, cinching it at the waist.

Anthony motioned to Julien, his hands a flurry that made Julien’s head spin.

She nodded. "We will be fine," Angel assured her brother. "Go rest. Long distances always tire you, but we’ll be able to relax for a few days here."

The boy smiled at Julien and made more hand motions. He waved and strode from the room.

"What did he say?" Julien asked weakly.

Angel blushed. "I’ll tell you later," she promised.

"Where are we?"

She reached above her and pulled a strange red container from the countertop. "Drink this, and I will explain everything to you — slowly."

Julien sucked in a mouthful of the sweet liquid. He swallowed in surprise, coughing a bit as it fizzed against his tongue. The flavor was new but appealing. "Where?" he asked again, staring into the metal container.

"This is called the workroom. The free powers use this as one of our communications centers."

"How— Why have the Calante never found this?"

"That is a little difficult to explain. Let’s start slowly." She motioned for him to drink again.

"My father—"

Angel tipped the container to his mouth with a look that brooked no argument. She nodded as Julien took another drink. Whatever it was, it was good.

"Drink all of that. You’ll need your mental fortitude to read me. What I have to tell you— You aren’t likely to believe me, unless you read it from my mind."

Julien drank down several mouthfuls. As if the elixir were some sort of magic, his extremities started to strengthen a bit, and his head cleared. "He followed you into that — transport circle."

She smiled, touching his face. "He was terrified."

"I think I know why," Julien grumbled.

"Jake was transported to our headquarters in what was once Glenvale City, unable to move and surrounded by people he perceived as enemies. It didn’t take Jake long to understand that we were not what the Calante painted us as."

Julien finished the drink and offered it back to Angel. His limbs were tingling, sensation returning much faster now. "How did you convince him?"

"Anthony touched his mind. After that, Jake wanted to know everyone. I think, he believed we were deceiving him — at first."

He pushed to sitting, leaning heavily against the console at his back. "He changed sides. I know that much."

Angel sucked in a ragged breath. "You really know?" She reached down another of the strange containers and drank deeply from it before turning it over to Julien.

He nodded, taking a drink. If the contents of the containers were what was healing him, the Grellan had medical knowledge far beyond the Calante ability to heal him.

"How?" She took the container back again and drank then passed it into his hand.

Julien chuckled. "I’ve made a habit of picking the old man’s mind. A thought here and there. Adrien certainly didn’t expect me to know his true name." He sobered, the moment he learned that true name bringing him back to more important issues. "Tell me about the night my father died."

Angel nodded. "Jake devoured information, every record we had of the war between the Calante and Grellan. We knew why our originator, Grelda, opposed the Academy, but even we didn’t know the whole tale."

"What was her reason?"

"Calan and Thomas lied. The ancient texts did not demand the system they implemented. The powers were not born with a duty to live as slaves."

Julien drank another mouthful, trying to internalize that concept. "But, we were born special," he protested weakly. What other reason would we have these powers for if not to use them for the good of mankind?

"An accident of nature. We knew that much, but we needed Jake’s help to locate the ancient texts. We arranged a rather dramatic scene to put the old man off guard. To all appearances, Jake escaped back to the Calante with knowledge of a few old bases that we left new trails in to make the story more convincing."

Julien motioned for her to continue. The tingling in his arms was subsiding, though his limbs still felt weak, drained.

"Jake agreed on one condition. When we had our proof, we were to take you and your mother from the city to safety. Your mother— We weren’t in time. I am sorry for that. That is why we came for you. We had a duty. We owed Jake that much."

"I was a duty?" he asked in disbelief.

Angel ran her fingertips up his chest, shooting him a look of invitation that he wished he could take her up on.

"Well, not just a duty," she commented coyly.

"Good. My father found the texts?"

She nodded. "He went with us. My parents had the electrical and telekinetic abilities to retrieve the texts. Anthony and I—"

"Had to get the group in and out."

"Yes. Jake went in as a witness."

"What happened?"

Angel offered her hand. "We knew my parents’ outlay of power would bring the Calante. It did."

Julien set the drink aside, taking her hand. He opened himself to her thoughts, letting them wash over him. Julien closed his eyes as the memory solidified around him.

* * * *

"Hurry," Jake urged, looking toward the doors nervously.

The woman— Anna reached into a small vault and removed a metal case, handing it to her husband, Sam.

"Take the charts, too," Sam instructed. "We’ll need them."

She nodded, grasping a handful of micro discs and storing them in the case he held.

"Good. Let’s go," Jake commanded in a tense voice, taking the case from Sam. He stalked to Angel’s position, looming over the children. Jake managed a stiff smile. "Time to go."

Angel screeched as the doors exploded in. A laser pulse lit the air, and the smell of seared flesh burned her nose.

"Sam," Anna pleaded in a voice choked with tears.

Jake pushed the case at Angel, as Anna fell to the next volley. "Leave," he ordered, turning away. "Go home."

Anthony grabbed her hand, starting the reaction and enticing Angel to join him despite her shocked tears.

"Stop," Jake demanded, trying to wave off the operatives. "There are children here."

"Stop the children," Adrien instructed coldly. "Shoot them if you have to."

Jake looked to Angel and Anthony in desperation, throwing himself into the circle on his knees and using his body as a shield.

The laser fire was eclipsed by the discharge of a conventional weapon. Angel collapsed under Jake, screaming in a combination of pain and terror as the room faded away. Adrien threw the handgun at them with a howl of pure fury.

Angel’s eyes closed as the world spun around her and lights flashed. She groaned as Jake’s body landed over her more forcefully. Angel pushed at him, her shoulder protesting her efforts.

"Jake," she whispered, pleading for a sign of life that she instinctively knew he wouldn’t provide for her. Angel sobbed in the realization that they were truly alone.

Anthony looked at her with frantic eyes, pressing at the pain in her chest.

Angel surveyed their surroundings. At five, Anthony’s control was questionable when he was pressured. He’d short-circuited again. Angel had no clue where they were, but she prayed they were close to headquarters where Sky Child could locate them quickly.

* * * *

Julien opened his eyes, touching the scar on her chest lightly. "The bullet."

Angel nodded. "It would have killed me. Jake saved us both. The laser fire killed him. He didn’t— I don’t think he felt the bullet."

Julien pulled her to his chest. "Thank you for that."

"For letting you know that he didn’t suffer?"

"No. For showing me that he died with honor, that he was a hero, as I’ve always believed he was."

She nodded. "Are you ready to hear the rest?"

"Yes. I think I am."

Angel pushed back then to her feet. She went to a glass cabinet and pulled out a half dozen pieces of faded artwork. Angel brought them to Julien and placed them reverently in his hands.

"What are these?" Julien asked.

"The ancient texts."

He looked at the plastic-wrapped drawings in confusion. "I don’t understand."

Angel drew the thin books out one at a time, opening them to marked pages.

Julien read them in growing understanding. "These are—" He pressed a hand to his heart, barely breathing in glee.

"Children’s books. Fantasy," she assured him. "They were entertainment."

"Myths about famous Earth heroes," he mused. "The best of their time. Human children read these, didn’t they? I’ve always said that human children should know—"

"They’re not real," Angel whispered. "These people never existed."

"But the histories—"

"Were written by the victors, Julien."

"But—" He held a book out to her uncertainly. "Here is the first academy run by Dr. Xavier." He set the book aside carefully and picked up another. "Heroes in disguise serving the public under assumed names." Julien rifled through them for the one that touched him the most. He pointed to the quote excitedly. "With great power comes great responsibility," he crowed.

Angel cupped his face between her hands. "There were never heroes on Earth, Julien. These stories were inventions of writers and artists."

He shook his head. "It can’t be. How can you know for sure?" he challenged. "You can’t, can you?"

She rose and helped Julien to his feet, steadying him as she guided him to a door. Angel opened it and led him onto a wide balcony.

Julien looked out over a blue-green sea in awe. A bright blue sky was littered with fluffy white clouds unlike the pale yellow clouds he was accustomed to. Manicured gardens surrounded the mansion, full of plants he could not recognize.

"I know all of Suraden," he breathed. "Where are we?"

Angel took his hands. "We took a chance that all the stories Grelda told were true. We used the charts to find our way home."

"Home?" Julien asked, watching the waves crest and crash up on the rocky shoreline.

"Anthony’s sign language—" She smiled. "He said, ‘Welcome to Earth,’ Julien."

He reached for the stone railing, collapsing to his knees. Julien gasped for breath, the dizziness intensifying.

Angel eased him to his back. "Calm down, Julien. You need to sleep this off. I know it’s a shock."

He grasped her hand, trying to find the words to ask her to stay with him.

She nodded, holding his hand tight. "I’m not going anywhere."

Julien nodded, closing his eyes.

Chapter Nine

Angel stroked her fingertips over Julien’s chest. It hardly seemed possible that he was really here. She kissed his shoulder, smiling as he draped a hand over her waist.

Julien buried his face in her hair, and his hand traced her hip. "I’m dreaming," he grumbled.

"I hope not," she teased.

"Tell me this isn’t a dream," he begged. "Tell me I’m in bed with you — on Earth. Tell me I’m not crazy."

Angel circled his cock and stroked him. "Does that feel like a dream?"

His hand tightened on her hip. "Too early to tell," he groaned. "I have a lot of vivid dreams about you."

"Do you?"

"Mmm." Julien trailed his lips down her cheek. "So real."

Angel nuzzled his lips. "Would you like it to be real?" she whispered.

"Yes." Julien nipped at her lips.

"You are on Earth. You are free. You are in bed with me." She drew his hand to her breast. "Naked."

"Please tell me this isn’t something you’ve done before."

Angel furrowed her brow. "Slept with a man?"

He shook his head, looking sheepish.

"Oh. No. Sleeping with me isn’t part of the service." Angel bit back a laugh at that.

Julien pulled her to his body. "What about me?"

She guided him to her core, tugging Julien over her. "This is not a dream."

"I hope not." Julien hesitated. "I’ve wanted you for so long."

"I know."

Julien’s mouth covered hers, his hands exploring her body. Angel pushed her pelvis to his in invitation, and his fingers eased inside her. His mouth became more urgent and his fingers more insistent, driving her toward the edge.

"Now, Julien," she pleaded.

His hand retreated, and he seated his cock in her, meeting her eyes and filling Angel in a single thrust. Julien shivered as Angel cried out. She grasped his buttocks, guiding him deeper as she wrapped her legs around his hips.

"Oh gods," he breathed. "I should—"

Angel shook her head. "No. You shouldn’t. It’s taken care of. Do you trust me?"

He took her hard and fast in lieu of a verbal answer. Julien clasped her hips to his own as his movements all but lifted her from the bed, capturing her nipple in his mouth.

She wound her hands in his hair, her body exploding in pleasure. Ripples of awareness radiated from her breasts downward, echoing and intensifying as they reached the length of him thrusting into her.

Julien pulled lightly at the first nipple and moved to the other, his suckling as slow and thorough as his pistoning hips were fevered. The ripples spread until her entire body pulsed in time with his ministrations, matching his thrusts then slowing to keep time with his mouth. The sensations swung back and forth wildly in a maddening cycle. Her muscles tensed as Angel fought back the inevitable. He sucked hard as she lost the battle.

The ripples ignited into a flame-thrower jet of searing heat as Angel molded every inch of her body to him. She threw her head back and screamed out his name, every muscle relaxing at once. It was like the jump, the intense sensation coupled with a disconcerting disassociation at the height of her pleasure.

Julien released her breast, capturing her mouth as he tensed. Wave after wave of his heat filled her, and Julien’s mouth left hers, his eyes closed and his breathing ragged as his climax wore on. "Angel," he pleaded.

"Yes," she urged him.

He shouted her name, his cock pulsing inside her. Julien pressed his forehead to hers, shivering, while his fingers stroking a nipple. "Tell me this is real," he whispered.

"How much more real can I make it?"

"Marry me. Let me tell you about my life. Let me give you my innermost self."

Angel stroked his cheek, wanting to laugh in the joy bubbling up. "We have discussions we have to have first," she soothed him.

He met her eyes, his face serious, earnest, pleading with her. "I want as many children as you’ll give me," he assured her. "I don’t like these escapades to Suraden, but I won’t try to stop you or talk you out of them. What you are doing is important," he rushed on.

She put a hand over his mouth, stilling his flow of words. Angel cocked her head, scowling at the sound of the Earth-style jet helos. "No. We have to attend to the formalities. Get dressed. We have company."

* * * *

Julien watched the people streaming into the conference room in unease. There were so many — a council of men and women. He shifted nervously, suddenly worried that he was on trial. Were these his jailers for war crimes on Suraden?

Angel took his hand. "It isn’t an inquiry," she assured him. "You were raised by the wrong side on Suraden. You are not a criminal for doing your duty."

He nodded slowly, blushing. Julien reminded himself that he trusted Angel and squeezed her hand.

A dark-haired human with a sprinkling of gray at the temples reached a hand out to Julien over the table.

Julien hesitated, looking at the offered hand curiously. "You realize what I am?" he asked.

Angel laughed heartily. "Tyler has met powers before, even psychics. He is our liaison."

Julien shook the man’s hand, letting a myriad of information wash over him. He smiled at the man’s honest, open nature. "What kind of liaison, Mr. Meadows?"

The man chuckled as he took his seat. "Tyler will be fine. Would you like me to call you Mr. Cross?"

Julien shuddered. "To tell the truth, I’m still trying to get used to someone using my true name. I haven’t been called—" He took a calming breath, trying to still the panic rising in him. "You— You all know my true name, don’t you?"

Tyler poured a glass of the sweet water they drank on Earth, clear-colored and without the heavy mineral taste of Suraden water. He passed it to Julien.

"Yes. We know all about you. I realize this is hard on you. Most superheroes that come through know the truth before they agree. They come to terms with the idea of themselves as a part of society before they make the jump. Do you prefer to be called Soulchaser until you adjust?" he offered.

Julien swallowed a sour lump, shaking his head. He took a drink of the water. Julien could drink nothing but Earth water for the rest of his life — unless Cola was available. "No. Not that. Julien — will be fine. Thank you." He furrowed his brow. "Superheroes?"

Angel touched his cheek. "The fantasy powers were known as superheroes. It is a hard idea for the Earth-born humans to shed."

Tyler darkened. "I apologize."

Julien laughed weakly. "Don’t. I have to learn these things if Earth will be my home. Now, what sort of liaison are you, Tyler?"

He nodded. "I am the liaison between the Suraden-born powers and the United Federation of Peoples. We arrange your move into society."

"Arrange? Am I— Am I in service to your political hierarchy?" he asked nervously.

"Only if you wish to be. We may ask your help, but you are never required to take an assignment." Tyler rustled a stack of papers in front of him, pulling out a yellow one and scanning his eyes down it. "I see that you worked murder tracking."

Julien nodded once, curtly, forcing his muscles to ease. Not that, he begged silently. How many years would they want him to serve in that capacity?

"Three years in hell," Tyler spat in disgust, throwing the paper back on the pile. "That was one of the reasons the Federation granted immediate shelter to the refugees from Suraden. Forcing sensitives to live that."

"Tyler," Angel soothed him.

He nodded then met Julien’s eyes. "It is my pleasure to tell you that you are free to refuse any case we ask your help on. We won’t ask unless we have a serial killer that may strike again or there is a strong possibility of recovering the victim alive, but we understand what we are asking. If you cannot face it again, you cannot."

Julien fought for a decent breath. "If I don’t track, what am I expected to do?"

Tyler smiled. "What would you like to do? What would you choose to do?" He waved a hand as if to still a flood of words that were not forthcoming. "Don’t limit yourself to your powers. There are programs providing job education and degree programs. You can pursue any job you wish, and we can help you decide on a job."

Julien looked to Angel, dizzy and lost in the concept. He’d dreamed for years about the things he would do if he were free to do them, but they all seemed frivolous when the choice was a reality.

Angel nodded. "You don’t have to choose today," she assured him. "You have all the time you need."

Julien nodded, wishing Jennifer had this choice — now, before she forgot what she really hoped for. He sucked in his breath as an idea assaulted him, the only thing beside Angel that had made him happy in years.

"What is it?" Angel asked.

"Children," he whispered. "I want to help troubled children, children who have problems."

She nodded, smiling. "You’re thinking of Sealife," she guessed.

"Jennifer. How—"

Angel handed him a small pouch. "This is yours."

Julien opened it, dumping his father’s medals and the micro discs of family photos into his hand.

"You had to leave everything behind," she explained.

"You have someone inside the Academy." But, who?

Angel nodded. "We agreed to bring him through once we had you. He ransacked your quarters for your most prized possessions after you left the Academy. He had hours to store them in the tower quarters before we came for you."

"Who is it? Who do I have to thank for this?"

She laughed. "Your old buddy Jason," she teased.

"Firebrand? I knew he was going to get himself in trouble." Julien grinned. "For once, I’m glad I was right about him. When are we getting him out?"

"Anthony and I are getting him out in a few months," she assured him.

"Months?"

"He wants to be sure no one suspects him before he runs."

Julien sighed. "I want to go back."

"What?" She paled.

"Not permanently," he soothed her. "There’s someone— I trust Jennifer. She trusts me, and I can get her out, if we do it now."

"Soon. Give us time. For now, we have decisions to make."

Julien nodded sadly. He would get Jennifer out as soon as he could arrange it.

Tyler motioned for Julien’s attention. He handed over an identi-card. "This is yours. You may travel where you wish with it."

"Any city?" he asked, stunned that no one was listing his allowed zone.

"Any city."

Julien searched the card.

As if he understood Julien’s concern from years of dealing with new Suraden-born powers, Tyler removed his own card and passed it across the table. "They are the same. It doesn’t mark you as a power in any way. You have to choose many things — and learn a few things."

Tyler motioned the people with him in turn. "Mary will tutor you in history, customs and laws. Neil will help you choose where you will live."

Julien looked to Angel. "Where do you live?" he asked solemnly.

She laughed heartily. "The Greek isles, but I’ve considered relocating to Eire."

He waited patiently for her answer.

"Eire," she decided.

Julien nodded and looked to Neil. "Eire — if you please."

Tyler looked from Julien to Angel in confusion. "If you’d like Neil to show you the choices you have," he began.

Julien nodded. "For travel," he assured them. "I would like to know this world."

Tyler shrugged and moved on. "Sarah will help you choose clothing and belongings with your initial stipend. Since you are uncomfortable with your situation, we will do as much as we can via electronic purchases. Last but not least, Evelyn will arrange for your job certifications, education, and other paperwork."

Julien darkened. "What paperwork does one need to marry on this world?" he asked.

Angel choked. "I haven’t said yes," she managed in a harsh whisper.

Tyler stifled a laugh and hid a smile behind his hand.

Julien smiled and stroked her cheek. "Aloud? No. You haven’t — yet."

She blushed and shot a sheepish look at the end of the table. "Evelyn, if you don’t mind," she hinted.

Julien drew her face back to his. "Tell me."

Angel smiled. "Yes. I will marry you."

The End