be based on energy. Contact with another person’s energy, through a simple skin-on-skin transfer, sparks her ability, a kind of empathy with some retrocognition thrown in that we’ve been calling super empathy.”
Alex blinked at the older woman. Retro what? She was so lost.
Before Alex could say “huh?” or start fidgeting with impatience, AnnaCoreen continued. “The body is made up of electrical impulses. Everything you do, feel and think originates as an electrical impulse inside your brain. We’re all surrounded by an energy field made up of these electrical currents. Most of them bleed off as we go about our day, but some are stronger than others and remain with us as a kind of . . . residue. Say you stub your toe. That’s much more painful, or traumatic, than, say, nicking yourself while shaving your legs. Your toe may hurt for a few days after the injury, whereas the minor nick is forgotten by the time it stops bleeding. Charlie’s ability allows her to tap into that residual energy. She absorbs it into herself and experiences the event as if it happened to her. The more traumatic the event, the more powerful the residual energy and the more powerful the retrocognitive, or postcognitive, empathic experience.”
“But Charlie said she absorbed our cousin’s ability when she died and that triggered hers. Nothing like that has happened to me.”
“That’s not entirely true. After you were shot, you had to be revived at the hospital.”
“This has something to do with that ?”
“My theory is that when they used the defibrillator paddles to restart your heart, the jolt of electrical energy somehow supercharged your ability. How many times did they shock your heart before it responded?”
Alex swallowed hard, the nausea back. “Three times.”
AnnaCoreen nodded. Alex had confirmed her theory, but instead of looking pleased, AnnaCoreen appeared even more concerned. Perhaps three times the shock meant three times the supercharging.
Alex didn’t give AnnaCoreen a chance to voice that concern as she plunged ahead. “If it’s residual energy, wouldn’t it wear off after a few days? Like the pain of the stubbed toe goes away?”
“That was my assumption, based on Charlie’s experience.”
Alex didn’t like the fact that AnnaCoreen spoke in past tense. “But she was kidnapped three months ago. Shouldn’t that energy have faded by now?”
“It should have, according to what we know about Charlie’s empathy.”
“So what the hell’s going on?” Alex couldn’t help that her voice rose. She wanted answers, but every answer brought up more questions.
“Half an hour ago,” AnnaCoreen said, “I would have assumed that because Charlie’s experience was so intense, it has taken longer for the residual energy to evaporate.”
Half an hour ago, Alex had been at the bottom of some basement stairs, unable to move and terrified of a man stomping around overhead. Something about that experience had changed AnnaCoreen’s assumptions about Alex’s ability.
Alex could no longer sit still. She had to move, get up and pace, maybe run as far and as fast as possible. As she shifted to rise, pain tightened around her torso, and an involuntary moan escaped her lips.
AnnaCoreen got quickly to her feet and, before Alex could stop her, hiked up the hem of Alex’s T-shirt to just below her breasts. Alex opened her mouth to protest, but the blood draining from the older woman’s already pale face stopped her.
“Good Lord,” AnnaCoreen breathed. She straightened, and with one cool finger, she tilted Alex’s head back until her narrowed eyes could focus on her throat. Her brow furrowed with what looked like pain.
“What is it?” Alex asked. Not that she really wanted to know at this point.
“You have bruises on your throat, too. As though someone tried to strangle you.”
Strangle? Holy crap. A strong, thick hand on her throat that pinned her to cold concrete flashed through her brain. “Is it
Alex blinked at the older woman. Retro what? She was so lost.
Before Alex could say “huh?” or start fidgeting with impatience, AnnaCoreen continued. “The body is made up of electrical impulses. Everything you do, feel and think originates as an electrical impulse inside your brain. We’re all surrounded by an energy field made up of these electrical currents. Most of them bleed off as we go about our day, but some are stronger than others and remain with us as a kind of . . . residue. Say you stub your toe. That’s much more painful, or traumatic, than, say, nicking yourself while shaving your legs. Your toe may hurt for a few days after the injury, whereas the minor nick is forgotten by the time it stops bleeding. Charlie’s ability allows her to tap into that residual energy. She absorbs it into herself and experiences the event as if it happened to her. The more traumatic the event, the more powerful the residual energy and the more powerful the retrocognitive, or postcognitive, empathic experience.”
“But Charlie said she absorbed our cousin’s ability when she died and that triggered hers. Nothing like that has happened to me.”
“That’s not entirely true. After you were shot, you had to be revived at the hospital.”
“This has something to do with that ?”
“My theory is that when they used the defibrillator paddles to restart your heart, the jolt of electrical energy somehow supercharged your ability. How many times did they shock your heart before it responded?”
Alex swallowed hard, the nausea back. “Three times.”
AnnaCoreen nodded. Alex had confirmed her theory, but instead of looking pleased, AnnaCoreen appeared even more concerned. Perhaps three times the shock meant three times the supercharging.
Alex didn’t give AnnaCoreen a chance to voice that concern as she plunged ahead. “If it’s residual energy, wouldn’t it wear off after a few days? Like the pain of the stubbed toe goes away?”
“That was my assumption, based on Charlie’s experience.”
Alex didn’t like the fact that AnnaCoreen spoke in past tense. “But she was kidnapped three months ago. Shouldn’t that energy have faded by now?”
“It should have, according to what we know about Charlie’s empathy.”
“So what the hell’s going on?” Alex couldn’t help that her voice rose. She wanted answers, but every answer brought up more questions.
“Half an hour ago,” AnnaCoreen said, “I would have assumed that because Charlie’s experience was so intense, it has taken longer for the residual energy to evaporate.”
Half an hour ago, Alex had been at the bottom of some basement stairs, unable to move and terrified of a man stomping around overhead. Something about that experience had changed AnnaCoreen’s assumptions about Alex’s ability.
Alex could no longer sit still. She had to move, get up and pace, maybe run as far and as fast as possible. As she shifted to rise, pain tightened around her torso, and an involuntary moan escaped her lips.
AnnaCoreen got quickly to her feet and, before Alex could stop her, hiked up the hem of Alex’s T-shirt to just below her breasts. Alex opened her mouth to protest, but the blood draining from the older woman’s already pale face stopped her.
“Good Lord,” AnnaCoreen breathed. She straightened, and with one cool finger, she tilted Alex’s head back until her narrowed eyes could focus on her throat. Her brow furrowed with what looked like pain.
“What is it?” Alex asked. Not that she really wanted to know at this point.
“You have bruises on your throat, too. As though someone tried to strangle you.”
Strangle? Holy crap. A strong, thick hand on her throat that pinned her to cold concrete flashed through her brain. “Is it
Similar Books
