Chapter 24 #2
I still haven’t even laid eyes on the man and yet I already know this is not a Gifted I want to interact with in any way.
Even my bond is thrumming in my chest as though it’s been woken, and that’s not usually how bonds work.
It’s not what he’s saying, or even the derision dripping from his tone, but the thread of power that practically vibrates through every word.
I might’ve inherited my father’s Gift, but I was primarily raised by my Neuro mother and I’ve heard that particular sound a million times in my life.
I know exactly what it means. If the rumors of what Maxim can do are true, which I already know they are, then he’s already in the minds of the Gifted standing around us and there’s a good chance he’s already feeling my own defenses out.
My mom would call him uncouth to his face, but I’ve never met a Neuro who didn’t immediately test those Gifted around them to see what secrets they could uncover, and my mom was no different, only she’s strong enough to go mostly undetected.
It’s how my own barriers got so strong in the first place.
Oblivious to the complete meltdown going on inside my head, Ivan shoots me one last petulant look before he steps aside, jerking his head at the homeless-looking man to get him moving as well.
The way they’ve been subdued so instantly, cowed by this Gift’s appearance alone, would have me laughing in their faces any other day.
Not today, though.
Not with my escape to my Bond on the line, because if this doesn’t work, I can’t go to her without risking leading my father and Silas Davies back to her, and I would never allow that to happen.
Maxim steps out of the office but he doesn’t immediately acknowledge me or even look at me.
Instead, he gestures for the others to leave us, shutting the door firmly behind them until it’s just the two of us standing there.
When he does finally look up at me, it’s not the careful sizing up that the others did. He just stares at me and waits.
I can’t help but stare back at him like an idiot.
A full foot shorter than me, he’s thinner than I am, no muscle on his frame at all, and yet there’s no world in which anyone could say he lacked presence.
It’s as though his Gift is standing in the room with us, despite the fact that his eyes are barely glowing.
My mom has mastered that skill as well, building up a tolerance threshold so her eyes no longer glow when she’s using low levels of power.
She can bend the minds around her to believe her manipulation as the truth, and without the surefire sign of her Gift in action, no one ever suspects her.
I wonder if she learned it from him, or if he did from her? Maxim is the same age as my mom, they attended Basell together, and I first heard his name from her.
She would drop dead on the spot if she knew I was standing here with him.
“I suppose you’re eager to get this over with and be on your way, but I have to warn you… what you’re asking me to do isn’t something to take lightly. My Gift may seem just like any other Neuro’s, maybe a little stronger, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
I shake my head at him. “I never thought it was. I sought you out specifically, I know what I’m asking for, so spare me the warnings. I don’t need them.”
His brows pinch in a little as his jaw tightens. “I usually don’t care but you look too much like your mother, I can’t help myself.”
The man must be blind, I look nothing like my mom.
Even without saying a word, my response must be written all over my face because he shakes his head at me.
“Everything about you is Erin; don’t be so shallow to think that wearing Alan’s face would cast her aside entirely.
Listen to me, boy, and think a little harder on it.
What I do isn’t planting something into someone’s mind like Erin does.
Think of it like an extraction of the mind, a wound that will be cauterized until there’s nothing but a scar left behind.
Where Erin creates, I destroy. Her Gift weaves, while I cut holes out of that tapestry with no regards for the design. ”
He pauses for a second and looks me over, properly this time, before he continues, his tone shifting to a resigned one, like he’s run out of reasons to give me to quit this.
“Once it’s done, there’s no undoing it, Bassinger.
You know that, right? If you run out of money or contacts on your little adventure… too bad.”
I stare back at him, unflinching and sure.
Eventually, his mouth sets and he gives me a firm nod.
Then his eyes begin to glow brightly, the force of his Gift like a physical wave that bursts out of him and hits me like a wall.
He’s not even directing it at me, at anyone in our vicinity, and yet I feel the force of it so intensely that it rattles me to my core.
I almost black out but it’s over in under a minute.
Nothing about me feels different but my hand moves to press against my temple without my intention, as though it’s my brain that’s been scrambled and not three dozen others.
Maxim’s eyes flash back to the sedate brown color they started out as, and other than the lines on his face looking deeper, the dark circles under his eyes looking darker, there’s no big change in him either.
Nothing to say that he’s just committed a crime that would be classed as an act of terror by any member of our community, no matter which side of the Resistance line they stand on.
It’s definitely not the first time he’s done it.
He pulls a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one, his hand steady.
“That would’ve been a lot easier on us both if you just dropped your barriers a little.
I would’ve halved the price as well, not that you need it, I’m sure.
If you want the job done properly, you can still do it and I’ll make sure the entire city forgets you ever existed. ”
His eyes begin to glow again, only this time it’s a gradual thing so I barely know it’s started.
Before I realize it’s happening, they’re shining brightly again, that unnatural white impossible to tell exactly what he’s focusing on, but I somehow still know for sure I have his full attention, every piercing inch of it.
A slow, coaxing smirk stretches over his lips, his voice strangely soothing over my absolutely fried nerves. “You already know my reputation, Bassinger— I’m the best there is. You can trust me with this.”
My bond recoils in my chest, a tugging at my limbs that is almost impossible to ignore as it tries to put distance between us.
Clarity washes over me like a bucket of ice dumped on my head; he’s still trying to get under my defenses, only this time he’s trying to sway me, throwing enough power behind it that my bond is reacting to it.
That only scares me more, because bonds don’t react like this.
A bond having its own sense of identity and internal drives separate to the Gifted themselves isn’t just rare, it’s unheard of.
The files that Silas Davies kept on my Bond weren’t just logs of the sickening experiments he was torturing her with but attempts to figure out how she ended up with a bond like that in the first place.
Evolution, an anomaly, or something else entirely.
The chill runs down my spine until my blood runs cold; one bond does, and if he gets into my mind, he’ll know all about Oleander Fallows and the void-eyed bond that lives within her, capable of killing hundreds in the blink of an eye without burning out.
The sneer I fix onto my face would rival my father’s and, for once, I’m not sickened by the thought of it.
“You’ve got your money, forget you ever saw me here, or you’ll be dealt with, just like the rest of the bottom-feeders who step out of line.”
His lip curls, his loathing of my father coming out in full force, but his reply almost breaks my brain.
“You could’ve been mine, y’know? Your mother once loved me, more than she’s ever loved that cunt you call a father.
He stole you both from me. I’d give my life to break that piece of shit, once and for all.
Give me what I need and you’ll never have to see him again, I’ll make sure of that. ”
He might’ve stolen my mom, but there’s no doubt who my father is, no matter what delusions Maxim lives under.
No matter what he says and thinks, I’m practically my father’s twin.
My mom thinks my tattoo obsession is just to spite her and the image of a perfectly appropriate Top Tier family, but the moment I realized I could deviate away from that man’s image, I couldn’t help myself.
I’d get my entire face covered if I could find something I liked enough…
and once I’m certain my Bond won’t mind.
In the same way that I’d crave her no matter how she chooses to style herself, I’m also hopelessly desperate for her approval.
In some alternate universe, maybe I feel shame for that irreverent desperation, but she’s my Bond and I refuse to be a fucking thing like Alan Bassinger.
Nothing matters more to me than Oli.
Instead of looking back at him, or playing into his sad little narrative, I walk back to my car without acknowledging he’s even spoken.
Even when he calls out to me again, his voice angrier and that thread of power more insistent, I ignore it all.
There’s nothing he can do to me, no way he can overpower me; my barriers have just proved to be stronger than his ability, no matter how rattled I was.
He has no choice but to watch me leave.
I wait until I’m back on the road before I pick up my phone, my mom’s voice shrill the second the call connects. “What have you done? You stupid, stupid boy—why would you ever go to Maxim?! You—“