Chapter 5: First Contact – part 2
Shane was a creature of habit. Harris, he’d discovered, wasn’t under normal circumstances, and was less so now that she was in his son’s third trimester. Since they avoided each other like the plague after the hallway incident—the thought of which brought a smirk to Shane’s face—he’d tried to determine Harris’ sleep schedule so he could psychically bond with his son as much as possible.
The problem was that Harris didn’t have much of a schedule. Shane, however, was adaptable. Whenever he took a break from working and was in private he’d mentally sense for Harris. The first few times he’d done it when she was awake he’d gotten psychically bitch-slapped, which only made him more determined. Shane quickly learned how to sense for her body instead of her mind. Once he knew what to look for it was easy. The Homo superior practically radiated energy. After locating her body, Harris’ heart and breathing rates indicated if she was asleep or conscious.
Now at 6:00 in the evening, the bitch was sound asleep. Smiling in the solitude of his office, Shane’s silver prism shone brightly as he touched his son’s mind. The child pulsed back happiness and love. Shane returned it as he checked the baby’s physical state. He continued to be the picture of—
Harris’ mind stirred. Shane stilled. He’d had a headache for three days after the whore’s last scolding. After a few moments her mind withdrew, presumably back to a dream. Breathing a sigh of relief, he reached again for his son only to find something in his way.
A fierce protectiveness Shane didn’t realize he had welled up. Snarling, Shane hurled his anger and indignation at the barrier. How dare you keep me from my son? You’re an incubator, and no longer necessary. I should cut him out of you!
Pain and sheer terror coursed into Shane. Harris’ response was so unexpected that it broke his concentration. After taking a moment to slow his breathing and pounding heart, Shane pulled his alien calm around him and reconnected with his crystal. Although he was loathe to approach the powerful psychic, he had to make sure that his son was okay.
Addison jolted awake, her heart pounding. She instinctively reached for her daughter, pulling Ashlynn close and erecting a psychic wall around the three of them. The latter failed. Something was in contact with her unborn son. Fear swelled in the moment it took for Addison to recognize the intruder.
Myers, Addison scowled. Evidently he hadn’t learned what stay away meant. As much as she wanted to lash out at him psychically, now wasn’t the time. Ashlynn needed her.
Ashlynn, scrunched into what remained of Addison’s lap, sobbed inconsolably. Incoherent words and thoughts poured out of the girl. Addison crooned softly, projecting comfort and love to her daughter. “Lynnie, love, tell me what’s wrong.” She smoothed Ashlynn’s hair and hugged her closer. “Did you have a bad dream?”
The girl shook her head, still trembling with fear. She gasped, “The… bad… man.”
Addison frowned. It wasn’t like Ashlynn to imagine things. She was at the age for bad dreams, but she was smart enough to know when she had a dream. Precognition, maybe? That wouldn’t surprise Addison. Her own precognition and clairvoyance had first manifested when she was five. “What bad man, Lynnie? Tell Mummy about the bad man.”
Ashlynn was too upset to answer further. Addison continued to cuddle her, waiting patiently. Once Ashlynn’s breathing had evened she replied, “He touched my baby brother.” Her little face tilted up, eyes round with fear. “He said he’d cut him out of you—”
Myers! Addison hissed inwardly. A fresh wave of apprehension surged from Ashlynn. Addison shielded her daughter from her ire, then reached mentally for Myers. The bastard was still connected to her son!
Addison grudgingly lowered her mental shields enough to speak to the wanker. Get the fuck away from my son and leave my daughter alone. Each word was a psychic punch fueled with anger and distrust. I swear, if you ever touch her again I will fry you!