Read Online Division Zero: Thrall by Matthew S. Cox - Free Book Online Page A

not consumption. The strange thing was how all of the dead ones were in the same place.” The man gestured at the central strut of the H. “We found them floating yesterday morning. A technician could find no problem with the tank, though the log recorded a severe temperature drop during the night, but only in a small area.”
    “Heck,
I
could kill fish,” said Theodore. “The little buggers are pretty sensitive to cold. Just stick my hand in the tank and poof. Hank may have lashed out at the restaurant for replacing his beloved smoke shop.”
    “I don’t think so.” Kirsten leaned close, studying the aquarium. “He’d been here for years and never did anything that overt before.”
    Dorian swiped a finger through the smear. “This is residue. An entity got into a fight in here, or at least, something hurt one.”
    “Thank you, I’ll just be a few minutes looking around. I’ll try not to get in anyone’s way.” She smiled at the host as he backed off, and closed her eyes. Evan’s hand slipped away. “Don’t wander too far.”
    “I won’t.”
    Her mind opened in an effort to read ambient energy. Weak imprints lingered here and there, confirming a spirit had been here. Theodore was close to her when she opened her eyes; she jumped back with a yelp that quieted the room by several decibels. Now embarrassed at drawing attention to herself, she scowled at him.
    “Dammit, Theo, don’t do that.”
    Dorian encouraged him to give her some space and glanced at her. “Feel anything?”
    “There was something here, not much of an imprint though. It doesn’t feel like he was obliterated, but I can’t find the sense of peace that usually saturates an area after a transcendence.”
    “K…” Dorian pointed.
    She spun to follow his gesture, and gasped at the sight of Evan. He had crouched, one hand on the floor amid another blotch of glowing matter. He trembled, staring wide-eyed into nowhere with an expression as if someone was about to shoot him. Kirsten ran to him, sliding to a halt on her knees with her hands on his shoulders.
    “Evan?”
    He didn’t react.
    “Evan!” She shook him. “Evan, snap out of it.”
    A well-dressed man at a nearby table leaned around. “Is he all right? Should I call a MedVan?”
    Mouth still open, Evan blinked once and broke out of whatever trance had taken him. After a final severe shiver, he swallowed and wiped the cold sweat from his face. His trembling subsided, and his breathing returned to normal.
    “Thank you. I think he’s okay.” She stood as Evan did, refusing to let go of his hand. “What was that?”
    He stared up at her. “Fear.”
    “Obviously.” Theodore shook his head. “You looked about ready to piss yourself.”
    Evan glared at him. “Was not. It wasn’t my fear.” He looked at Kirsten. “Someone was real scared here.”
    “ Oh, that explains it,” said Theodore with a smirk. “The kid’s a telempath.”
    “Nooooo,” whined Evan with an exasperated sigh. “You’re just not scary.”
    Dorian chuckled, much to Theodore’s chagrin.
    “He’s not a telempath, Theo.” Kirsten pulled Evan into a hug, stroking her hand over his hair. “He’s mildly clairvoyant. He probably caught a psychometric reading from the residue.”
    “Mildly clairvoyant? That’s like saying you’re mildly a cop. He either is, or isn’t. Question is, does he train himself how to use it?” Theodore gestured at him.
    “You should be ashamed of yourself,” cried a sour-sounding voice. “Forcing your psychic nonsense on an innocent little boy.”
    “Oh, shit,” muttered Dorian. “Self-righteousness at two o’clock low, coming in hot.”
    A middle-aged woman ambled over, shaking her finger. Kirsten’s gaze shot right to the gold cross pin on her lapel. She recognized the icon of Reverend Harris’s vehement anti-psionic Fundamentalist Church of the Redeemer.
    “Psionics aren’t a choice, dammit. I’m not
making
him anything. He was born with his gift, as