Book 2 in the Mind Over Trilogy
Deryl isn’t crazy; he’s psychic. Desperate to escape the insane asylum, Deryl teleports to Kanaan, a world of telepaths who regard him as an oracle. But freedom comes at a price. The Kanaan expect their oracle to teach them to use their powers to wage war. Meanwhile, he’s falling in love, but to be with her means to share his psyche, which could drive her insane. Most dangerous of all, he hasn’t escaped the Call of the Master, enemy of the Kanaan, whose telepathic manipulations were why Deryl was committed in the first place. Now, the Master will forge Deryl’s powers into a weapon to kill all he loves or destroy his mind trying.
When Deryl didn’t answer except to glare his challenge, Malachai shrugged. “Thanks to your…demonstration…while delirious during your appendicitis, I believe it’s safe now to admit you do have some unexplainable talents, and that they may indeed be a factor in your emotional stability. Quite a breakthrough, if you think about it.” He leaned his elbows on his desk, hands clasped, and regarded Deryl with a not-quite smug smile.
Deryl seethed inside, but forced himself to mimic the psychiatrist’s posture. He was getting out of this place, one way or another. “So?”
Malachai raised a brow, and the fullness of the plan pressed into Deryl’s mind even before he felt the invitation. Still, Deryl squinted, making a show of concentration. No way would he let Malachai know the extent of his abilities. He’d always had a hard time reading the chief psychiatrist—now was his chance to take advantage of Malachai’s openness. Besides, he needed time to think.
Malachai’s name on respected psychiatric journals. No more articles in rag-mags like Psychic Living Now!
“You want to study my abilities openly…” Deryl spoke slowly.
Malachai on the podium at international symposiums, presenting his findings to his peers, video of Deryl in an MRI chamber performing tricks while the results of his brain scan played on a separate screen.
Malachai nodded. “In return, I will arrange for you to have outpatient status.”
Deryl being called to his side, like a faithful dog, and told to perform similar tricks for Malachai’s audience.
Malachai pointed to the EEG machine in the corner. That surprised Deryl; usually, it remained discreetly behind the cabinet doors until he had Deryl’s cooperation. “It’s the best we have at the moment, but enough for a start. We’ll do a simple telekinesis exercise and get some preliminary readings. Monday, I’ll use that data to arrange for more precise instruments. This is your chance at a normal life…”
Malachai with his own private institute, combing the country for other psychics. A team of scientists under Malachai’s direction, drawing blood, administering drugs—playing with Deryl’s body chemistry to determine the cause of his abilities. Seeking a way to replicate them in others.
A normal life? Deryl shivered. “And if I refuse?”
A barrier clamped down so hard on Malachai’s thoughts that Deryl flinched. “I think neither of us wants to investigate that possibility,” he replied, but Deryl felt the threat in his bland words.