Page 34 of Aberrant Monsters
I crossed the room and pulled the box away from him. “Hey, you can’t just waltz into my home and take over someone else’s space. This ismyhouse, not the Order’s.”
He kept his head bowed for a long beat, then slowly lifted his chin to fix me with eyes like ice chips. “You work for the Order now, August, and under Article 685 of the rift walker code, a handler is permitted to select and customize an appropriate working space within the premises he chooses to operate from.”
My gaze flew to Uncle Fred, who nodded slightly. “He’s right. And it’s fine. The quicker he sets up, the quicker you can get the jobs done and complete the deal.”
The handler reclaimed his box and continued to unpack. “You should listen to your uncle, and you will listen to me. Because I’ll be the one keeping you informed and safe. That’s my job.”
“Oh really?” Nandi said. “And siphoning our emotional energy doesn’t come into it, I suppose.”
He looked up at her in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“You’re a psi-witch. Isn’t that what you do?”
His jaw tensed. “You’re a necromystic. Don’t your kind have sexual relations with ghosts and spirits?”
Nandi flinched as if he’d slapped her.
“Yes, stereotypes suck, don’t they?” He made a sound that was part exasperation, part disgust, then tugged the sleeve of his sweater up to expose a gold band on his wrist. “Neutralizers. Standard issue for psi-witches employed by the Order. They’ve been in operation for around fifteen years.”
“What?” My Uncle Fred stepped forward to stare at the band. “I didn’t know.”
“Why would you? You worked in administration.”
The handler’s probing gaze was fixed on me. Reading me. “It was your kidnapping that prompted the Order to consider creating these.”
“Kidnapping?” The room fell silent and grew heavy with tension. I turned to my uncle. “What is he talking about?”
My uncle, however, was too busy staring daggers at the handler. “August doesn’t remember any of that.”
My handler shrugged. “Then you should have told her. Especially after she’d been to see her kidnapper.”
I’d been to see…Wait a bloody second. “Elina Moore? Elina kidnapped me?” My tone rose in pitch. “What the fuck?”
“We had you home in less than twelve hours,” Uncle Fred said quickly.
“Elina Moore was your mother’s handler,” my handler explained. “She was also a psi addict and her biggest source was your mother. After you were born, your mother slowed down on active duty and Elina wasn’t getting her fix of highs. She had a mental breakdown and took you. No ransom note. Nothing. The Order believes she intended to get rid of you. You were the reason her rift walker no longer wanted to work as much.”
“But the Order found you,” Uncle Fred said. “Elina wasn’t aware that your mother had you magically tagged. They traced your location, stopped Elina, and brought you home.”
“Elina was stripped of her position at the Order,” the handler continued. “It also gave your mother the opportunity to push for a sabbatical, which, after what had happened, was granted.”
The blood contract had come on the back of my being kidnapped and almost killed. Nice.
I took a moment to absorb everything before fixing my uncle with a stern glare. “You should have told me.” I wasn’t angry, just fed up now. “How many more secrets are you keeping?”
He reached for my hand. “I’m sorry. You’d blocked it all out and the last thing I wanted to do was force you to remember.”
But that was just it. “I don’t remember. Not even now that you’ve told me.”
“Just as well,” the handler said. “Your files state you didn’t speak for a week after they got you back.”
“You were traumatized,” Nandi said softly.
“I don’t remember but I’m glad you told me.” I locked gazes with the handler. “What’s your name?”
“Quentin Winslow.” He smiled and it transformed his sharp, austere face into something easy, friendly, and surprisingly pleasing to look at. “And just so you know, I take my responsibilities very seriously, but I’m not a tyrant. I’m human enough, just like all of you. If we work together, we can get the job done in good time and save you.” He nodded in my direction. “That is what you want, isn’t it?”
No doubt. “Yes.”
