She focused and breathed and let her body get really still.
When the warm light flowed into her, she smiled. In that moment, no matter what happened, everything was connected, and it would be okay. She let that peace settle into her, and her hands got so hot she had to let it out before it burned her up.
She hovered her hands over the person dying on the bed. In Serena's mind, there was no male or female, only a glowing body of light, but this person's light was nearly gone.
She didn't know if she could light it up again, but she did her best. Light and power poured out of her like fresh orange juice into a crystal glass.
The soul in need sucked up her light and heat, but it didn't help. It was like pouring it down the drain.
A wave of dizziness hit her and she pulled her hands back in fear.
The evil man's voice cut through her haze. "Don't stop."
She pictured him eating Angel's heart, and put her hands back out. More light drained from her. More heat and energy sucked into the person beneath her.
More and more and more.
Serena could feel her own life force draining to keep up the healing.
She heard someone cry out.
Then her world faded to black and... nothing.
Chapter 66 – Steele
The body on the bed moaned and cried out. All signs of injury had faded away—or at least most signs. Enough for Mr. Steele's purposes.
On the floor, the girl lay inert, her chest still.
The para-power she wielded could prove valuable in the future, and he prided himself on keeping all of his tools in the best possible shape. "Take her to the doctor and make sure she is given the best care possible. I want her alive. Are we clear?"
If only he could remove the side effects of her healing power, he might take it for himself. He cursed the scientists, who took too long. If his son had lived longer, if he'd been able to keep the best parts of The Seeker's powers and leave the rest, he could find all of the kids he needed and he wouldn't be in this position.
The guards nodded while one lifted her in his arms and left the room. The cat darted out from under the bed and followed them.
Mr. Steele focused his attention on the body and waited with the patience of a man who had no conscience.
When its eyes opened in panic, Mr. Steele dove into its mind.
Implanting false memories required careful attention to detail. The memory had to align with the rest of the subject's experiences. To manipulate someone into action based on a false memory required even more skill and care—something he prided himself on.
First, he rummaged through his mind in search of a memory of equal importance that he could sacrifice—another kink in his power, which he intended to fix once he perfected his formula. Eventually, he'd be able to implant memories without payment with his own, and erase memories without carrying them around in his own mind. Mr. Steele relished the promised freedom. While he didn't have to suffer the indignities of any emotions attached to memories, he did not enjoy the experience of other people's lives in his mind.
He had no idea how his daughter, Sam, could stand to read minds all day long. To be exposed to so much... humanness.
Once he selected his memory, he held it in the Sphere of Transfer, as he called it. Then, he began to remake the memory into what he wanted his subject to believe was its own.
The art of memory making required his full focus. He tweaked smells and sounds, adjusted what stood out and what faded into the background. When the memory was nearly perfect, he added the missing piece, the part that was hardest for him to create, as he had no experience of his own from which to draw.
He had to add emotion.
It took two hours to get it just right. Once the memory was ready, he pushed it out of the sphere and into the subject's mind, allowing it to find its place amongst the other memories organically.
If Mr. Steele had done his job right, and of course he had, this memory would compel his subject to bring him his granddaughter when she was born.
That child's cerebrospinal flu would contain the purest, most powerful para-powers he'd ever created, and those powers would be his.
Chapter 67 – Sam
I stand in a white gown made of silk and lace and look over a canyon with no way to cross. My feet are perched on the edge, toes hanging over the deep abyss of red and gold with clouds billowing below me.
In this world of dreams, I consider jumping and letting the clouds catch me in a puffy bed of cotton, but I don't.
A force pulls at me. On the other side of the canyon a girl reaches for me.
Her silky auburn hair floats behind her in the wind. Though she is far away, my eyes zoom in on her like binoculars, and I can see each heart-breaking tear as it slides down her cheek.
Her voice breaks through the clouds and sends them scattering like scared mice. "Please, help me."
"Where are you? What happened?"
Something pulls her from behind, pulls her away from me. She cries out again. "Please!"