VISIONS OF HEAT

“I thought his targets had a tendency to disappear?”


“They do. But I’ve discovered that it’s not Krychek who does the disappearing. It’s the individual family groups—they don’t want to be associated with his victims.”

“What results could cause such a radical reaction?” She wanted to gather as much information as she could on the man almost certain to become the newest member of the Council. Information was power and she was through with being powerless.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Of course.”

“Nikita’s targets either die or become incapacitated to the extent that they can’t care for themselves—similar effects to certain kinds of accidental brain damage. Unfortunate for the individual but nothing organic or genetic, nothing that reflects on the extended family group.”

It was very unlike her father to dance around a subject. “Why is Krychek different?”

“His targets go clinically insane.”





CHAPTER 20





Faith was very, very glad she’d fallen a step behind Anthony, because at that moment, she couldn’t have hidden her terror. “Insane?”

“As far as anyone has been able to determine, his targets begin to exhibit highly erratic behavior approximately two days after infection. By the fifth day, they’re no longer sane in any sense, though the actual psych diagnosis varies from individual to individual.”

She shoved down her panic and horror and attempted a semblance of calm. “That makes the decision considerably easier—I have no desire to go insane before my time. Perhaps you should inform the Council as the head of the household. It may prove unhealthy for me to venture out into the PsyNet. At least until Krychek knows I’m out of the running.”

“I’ll do it en route to the city.”

They turned to make their way back. “Thank you.” Faith ached for even the smallest indication of care, something Anthony would never be able to give her. But he was her father. How could she not hunger for his approval if nothing else?

“Faith.”

“Yes, Father?”

“Be careful. Krychek may attempt to get to you some other way. Don’t trust anyone until I’ve ensured he knows you’ve conceded the race.”

Since she trusted no one who was connected to the Net, that wasn’t going to be a problem. “What if he decides to eliminate me anyway? I might become a rival in the future.”

“I’ve thought of a way to counter that possibility. I’ll make it known that you’re being put under lockdown because of aberrant mental patterns.”

A cage. Her father was going to put her in a cage. Faith told herself not to care but she did. And it hurt. “How long will I have to maintain this fiction? I assume it means I have to stay out of the PsyNet?”

“I’d suggest a year. Krychek needs to forget you were ever a threat.”

A year cut off from the only freedom she’d ever known. “Isn’t that extreme?” No matter what else he’d done, she’d always believed that Anthony had tried to keep her safe. But this . . . this was an attempt to put her in chains and disguise it as protection.

“It’s a question of your life. One year isn’t much in the greater scheme of things.”

A year was everything if you had decades of madness to look forward to. Though if she left the PsyNet, perhaps Vaughn could somehow heal the broken pieces in her mind. Even as she thought that, she knew it to be an impossible dream. But no matter—she’d still have more years of sanity than she would have under lockdown, a lockdown she suspected would never be reversed, reasons being found to keep her isolated and performing like the machine they’d almost turned her into.

“I’ll accede to three months. Let’s reconsider the situation after that.” She couldn’t give in, not when her recent behavior had made Anthony expect more from her.

“Agreed. Stay out of the Net.”

“Yes.” In a day, perhaps even in as little as a few hours, she’d be gone from the PsyNet forever. And if Vaughn didn’t catch her as she fell, she’d be gone from this world as well. She wondered if her jaguar knew the extremity of her trust in him.

“Good-bye, Faith.”

“Good-bye, Father.”





Faith forced herself to return to the house, though she was half-afraid she’d never be allowed out again. The door closed behind her with a soft snick that felt as loud as a deadbolt. Taking a deep breath, she thrust her incipient panic into a tiny box in her psyche and walked to the communication console.

Xi Yun responded to her page in seconds. “What can I do for you, Faith?”

“Could you send me some of the earlier reports of my mental processes during visions? I’d like to compare them against the current scans.” Not now, but one day.

“How far back would you like to go?”