Psy-Changeling [12] Heart of Obsidian Read Online Free PDF Page A

problem.” He was the most powerful Psy in the Net, of that he had no doubt, his psychic strength enough to destroy the very fabric of their race—or to control it. As to which he chose to do . . . it depended on her.
    If she demanded vengeance, he’d turn the world bloodred.
    She reached for his abandoned muffin, cut off a piece, and ate it. “Can you see me?”
    “Your thoughts are your own.” He hadn’t invaded her mind past that instant of contact required for the teleport.
    Piercing intelligence again. “Does sharing your shell mean I can see your secrets?”
    “No. You don’t want to see inside my mind.” It was a warning. “The rumor in the Net is that I can drive people insane.”
    No terror, no fear, just unwavering attention that said she heard far more than he said. “Can you?”
    “Yes.” He wanted to ask her what she saw when she looked at him, whether the nightmare was apparent to those midnight eyes. “Until they see phantoms and hear terrible voices, until they can no longer exist in the rational world and become broken facsimiles of who they once were.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I can.”

Chapter 4
     
    SHE HEARD HIS answer, this man as unreadable as a cobra about to strike, his voice raising every tiny hair on her body, but she knew he wasn’t telling her all of it. The reason for her certainty, and for the inexplicable violence of emotion that drove her to strip away his icy facade, was not anything she could articulate. One fact, however, was suddenly crystalline in its clarity in this instant when she could think, could reason—she needed her abilities against the cold strength of him.
    There was no other way she’d survive.
    Unlike those who had kept her in a cage while they attempted to break her, the cardinal across from her wouldn’t be forced to a halt by the labyrinth. He’d dig, go deeper, drag her out of hiding with vicious determination. He would be ruthless in his pursuit, brutal in his purpose. Nothing and no one would stop him—least of all a Psy who had hobbled her greatest strength.
    Drinking the rich, sweet liquid he’d given her in a gesture of care she knew had to be calculated to earn her trust, she—
    The labyrinth twisted.
    However, this time, she twisted with it, unwilling to lose her train of thought. The food in her belly, the warmth of the chocolate in her throat, the fresh bite of scent that was Kaleb’s newly showered body . . . different from the clean, masculine sweat she’d smelled the previous night as his skin gleamed in the moonlight . . . it all served to convince her that this wasn’t a hallucination.
    Kaleb could never be a hallucination—he gave off a sense of power that was a near-gravitational force, a silent reminder of the strength that lived in his veins, a strength that had taken her from her prison to this house that might be another prison, in the blink of an eye. No, she couldn’t survive him in her current condition, her psyche in pieces, her ability barricaded behind a tangled maze so intricate, none of her captors had ever come close to navigating it.
    “I created a key to unlock the labyrinth,” she murmured.
    He went utterly, absolutely still, a sculpture carved in clean lines. “Where?”
    “Inside my mind.” She spoke more to herself than to him as the labyrinth continued to alter shape, but in a way that no longer shredded her thoughts . . . as it hadn’t truly done since she woke from the first true hours of sleep she’d had for an eon. Her thoughts had been lucid for over an hour, her sense of self, of memory, becoming ever more coherent.
    And she understood what she’d done.
    There was no manual way to unlock her mind and reverse the creation of the labyrinth. Not even she could undo the intricate tapestry of the psychic trap on command. Torture, bribes, mental force—they had only served to strengthen the twisted forest that protected her. Her captors could’ve beaten her to death, could’ve burned