Twisting Souls
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
A reject on her own world, she had no idea what would happen when she twisted souls to find her freedom.
Aymin lived a normal life until she was told that her brand of talent was forbidden. A tattoo, nanites and a life as a social reject were the result.
Backers were supposedly protected by law, but there were ways to torment them, and that is what wracked Aymin each and every day. When the Backers started disappearing, Aymin got worried, and when she was the last woman standing, she gave herself to the inevitable.
Waking on a space station was a shock. Seeing what they were doing to the other Backers was worse. An escape thwarted and a rescue by strangers starts a new phase in Aymin’s life if she can prove herself to those around her.
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Twisting Souls
Copyright © 2016 Viola Grace
ISBN: 978-1-4874-0904-3
Cover art by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Twisting Souls
Tales of the Citadel 55
By
Viola Grace
Chapter One
The manacles held her face down as the injections went in. She screamed as they reached her spine and sent the acid though her nervous system.
Aymin’s hands formed fists as the worst part of the treatment began. Lasers began to burn a pattern on the back of her skull and down to her shoulders. It was a mark no one could miss and would be on her for life.
Sobs wracked her body, but the machine compensated for the movement, scarring and blistering her skin to make its mark.
Her voice was cracked, broken, when they finally released her. They unstrapped the restraints across her waist and hips, saving the manacles for last.
The guards holding her parents let them go, and they rushed to her side, helping her off while now-silent tears made tracks down her face.
The scent of her own scorched skin was still hanging in the air.
The nearest guard smirked. “You are a Backer now. Get used to it. Your mark needs to be kept free of hair, and a fine or worse will be imposed if you hide it.”
Aymin’s mother muttered, “We understand; now, get out of our way. My daughter needs rest.”
One of the tagging team nodded. “She can rest here today, then she will need to come back in a month to verify the mark and record it for identification. It burned in fairly clean, so it should be rather elegant.”
Her father looked at the woman in astonishment. “Yes, because aesthetics are a concern when your child has been burned. We will be back in a month and not a day before.”
Aymin wanted to die. The flames were still burning into her brain and cutting her off from her ability to touch the dead. The sudden silence in her mind was frightening. For three years, she had had constant companions, and now, they were silent. It was breaking her heart.
It was the tenth anniversary of her burning, and Aymin leaned against the wall in the corner, keeping her back to it. They were called Backers for a reason. One sight of their spine and you knew they could not defend themselves.
She had done her homework as to the start of the program, and it had been a hard thing to research. Eventually, she pinned it down to the Lorthatch. They had been trading partners for years, and suddenly, the Backers started appearing in the population.
Regulations and protections had helped them through school after the procedure, but from then on, it was a struggle for survival against a talented population that saw an easy target.
The alien influence was behind the locking up of certain talents, but it was the disappearances that were sending chills through the Backer community. They were disappearing, and it was being done with precision.
She was joined in her booth by a casual friend and fellow Backer. “Hello, Simmry.”
“Evening, Aymin.” Simmry gestured to the wait staff and a glass of cider was brought over to her. The bar catered to Backers, and they were treated like normal patrons. It was nice.
When Simmry started drinking, Aymin asked, “Aren’t we waiting for Tuara?”
Simmry shook her head. “Disappeared three days ago, like the others. I only know of four Backers still up and running, and we are two of them.”
Aymin was shocked. “Four? There used to be dozens.”
“Look around. Do you see any other Backers in here? This place should be clogged with us, but we are the only two here.”
Aymin leaned forward, “Have you visited my grandmother?”
“Yes, and she was very... encouraging. Whatever she did started turning the lights on for me, even if I can’t read auras like I used to. I feel that I could if I had to. That is huge.”
Aymin smiled. “She’s really good. It takes the sense of loss away.”
“Thanks for recommending her.”
“She demanded that I send some of the Backers to her, but you were the only one brave enough.”
Simmry chuckled. “Oh, it hurt like hell, but the result is worth it.”
Aymin sipped at her cider and smiled. Grandma Kiba had started working on her the same day that she went home from the treatment. They had kept her for a week before letting her go. They wanted to make absolutely sure that she wasn’t going to break the hold of the chemicals and scarring.
Grandma Kiba was a pain healer. She had been forced out of practice due to the nature of her skills, but in the Backers, she had found a group that was willing to take the pain in order to regain what was lost. Well, a few of them were. Aymin was looking at the only other person who thought the pain was worth the possibility.
Aymin sat back and chatted with her friend-by-circumstance. She kept her mind from all of those who had simply disappeared, with only the other Backers noticing their loss.
When Simmry finished her cider, she sat back. “Well, without the others, this is a bit awkward.”
Aymin sighed. “You are right. Come on, I will walk you to your skimmer.”
Simmry chuckled. “I can walk on my own. I have only had the one.”
“Really? With us being snagged?”
Simmry shook her head. “I will be fine. I parked on the next block. Come on, I will walk you to your bike.”
Aymin didn’t fight her. She got up, slipped her riding jacket on and headed for the door.
Physically, Aymin’s family had made sure that she was able to keep her
self safe. From the moment she had begun puberty, her brothers were obsessed with her being able to defend herself. She hadn’t enjoyed the lessons, but she was very good at survival. When she became a Backer, the lessons escalated to compensate for the locals who wanted to circumvent the laws and punish her for the accident of birth.
With her family behind her, she had never been defenseless.
They stopped next to her bike, and she got her helmet out. “So, drinks in a week? Just to make sure we are both still around?”
Simmry snorted. “Fine. See you in a week. ‘Night, Aymin.”
Aymin put on her helmet and nodded as she tugged her gloves on. Simmry headed out and around the corner. Aymin settled on her bike and powered it up before she glided soundlessly down the path her friend had taken.
When she heard the whispering, she increased her speed and she heard a voice call out, “Grab her!”
Instead of the bullies that had been watching them in the bar, there were men and one woman in uniform, grabbing at Simmry as she leaned against her vehicle.
Aymin throttled up and collided with the attackers. Simmry had an injector caught in her sleeve, but Aymin didn’t hesitate. No words needed to be spoken. If Simmry wanted something different later, at least she would be able to decide with a clear head.
Aymin felt her friend slumping against her back, and while it went against her instincts, she moved in a roundabout route to her home instead of fleeing there directly.
When she pulled onto the property, she saw more vehicles that didn’t belong to the family. Simmry was dazed but still awake. “Stay here.”
“Yup.” Simmry hung onto the seat as Aymin slipped away.
She crept along the wall and peered into the window of the living space.
Her family was ranged in a half circle, and a man with a med kit was watching the readouts while a woman read from a script.
Aymin could only hear bits, but she got the general idea that her family was being told she had run away. The drugs were driving that idea home.
She grimaced and returned to her bike, firing it up and making sure that Simmry was awake and aware before she moved through the woods, down a path that covered over ten kilometres before crossing a river and continuing on into the foothills.
Grandma Kiba wasn’t her grandmother. She was a woman who had simply grabbed her, wounded and in pain, and begun an agonizing massage that helped to put her in touch with parts of her talent that the treatment was supposed to have blocked off.
The block couldn’t be removed completely, but she hadn’t felt like killing herself anymore.
She pulled around the back and helped Simmry to the door. She knocked timidly and wasn’t surprised when she got a stunner shoved in her face.
Aymin simply said, “They came for us.”
Kiba stepped aside and let them in. “She looks rough.”
“Sedative. They winged her with it, but it must have been strong.”
“I will clear it, but she won’t like it. Bring her to the treatment room.”
Aymin winced and Simmry tensed. It was a soundproofed room that hid the sound of screaming. This wasn’t going to be fun.
Aymin helped Simmry to the treatment table and went to make some tea while Kiba closed the door.
It took ten minutes, but Simmry came out, white and shaken, and Kiba looked wobbly.
Aymin had tea and biscuits waiting for everybody, and she settled down and asked, “So, what do we do now?”
Simmry rubbed her head. “At dawn, I am going home. I need to check on my family.”
Aymin froze. “They will catch you.”
“I know. I will wait until morning to make them think that the sedative wore off naturally, but I have to go. It’s my family.”
Aymin rubbed her forehead. “Right. Of course.”
Kiba cleared her throat. “You can take my crawler.”
Aymin shook her head. “No, she should take my bike. They already know she was with me. We don’t want anything to lead back to you.”
Simmry nodded. “She’s right. I will take her bike, and I don’t want to know where you are going, Aymin.”
Aymin quirked her lips. “I wasn’t going to tell you.”
Chapter Two
The mountains were cold and winter was coming, but Aymin was perfectly fine. Years of survival training had made her impervious to the fear of winter. She feared something far worse, solitude.
Yes, she was alive, Kiba was safe and Simmry had disappeared the moment she had entered the city on the bike, but she hadn’t counted on the boredom of being alone. Being taken away to be with other Backers had more appeal than living her life without anyone to speak to.
It was a sobering moment to park Kiba’s vehicle in a lot and walk down the street where folks should have recognized her. Not one face looked at her with familiar recognition. Every face that turned to her looked away in fear before the person scuttled away.
Her plan was working. Someone somewhere was calling the men that were going to come and retrieve her. She knew she was the missing part of the puzzle. Her walls at the abandoned cabin were covered with pictures of the missing Backers. She had made lines, connected their appearances and disappearances. She knew one thing, they were nearly the same age and they were all part of a plan.
They had been removed in the last three months, so someone was preparing something. If she was part of that plan—and based on their showing up at her family home, she was—they needed her to finish it. She was giving herself to them, knowing that she was one small surge before taking over her power again. She could break the restriction with the flick of adrenalin.
She went into a local grocery store to buy a bottle of juice, and she felt the folks spring into action the moment she was out the door. She walked to the local park and settled on a bench, finishing her juice.
Three vehicles slowed and stopped near her bench. She continued to sip at her beverage and sat with her back straight and watched the dozen men and women approach her with weapons drawn.
She finished her bottle, tossed it into the nearby bin and waited.
“Aymin, remain calm and come with us.”
Aymin blinked. “I am perfectly calm. You are the ones who look tense.”
A woman in medical garb came forward and darted in, jabbing her with a syringe.
The drawn weapons didn’t lower until Aymin slumped forward. She saw a collection of boots around her as hands gripped her and hauled her off. She felt the hand run up the growth of hair at the back of her neck and a chirp sounded as she was scanned.
She heard the conversation of confirmation as they hauled her to one of the vehicles. The words This is the last one echoed in her head.
She was right, she was the last piece of the puzzle.
She woke when she was being hauled through a narrow corridor with her feet dragging. It took all her effort to remain relaxed in the grip of the men holding her.
Aymin took in the sensations around her and listened to the hollow impact of the boots on the ground. The air tasted stale, and no one was speaking.
Ahead of them, doors clanked open, and they pulled her over the new entry and past a series of long canisters filled with a soft golden liquid. What got her attention was the feet.
Tuara’s toe ring was on the third set of feet that she saw. She rolled her head back and saw the faces of the women in the Backer program, all still, sleeping and suspended in the tubes.
Her carriers shouted, and a medic came over to her, striking her with a sedative that took effect quickly. Aymin had seen what she wanted to know. All the Backers were here now that she had arrived.
Whomever was behind this had collected the whole set.
She woke, and the world was weird. It wavered and everything was bigger than it was supposed to be.
She was naked. She hated being naked in public. The other tanks were all around her. All of those women who shared her affliction were bobbing around, unconscious in their tanks. It was
comfortable, but Aymin was being penetrated by a lot of wires and tubes, some of which were in places that even her ex-boyfriend had never been near.
She turned and pressed her palm toward Simmry. Her friend was bobbing silently with a monitor showing her unconscious state.
Who needed this many deadly psychic talents?
She was awake for an hour, watching the medics bustle around when someone finally thought to check her monitor.
The surprised lavender gaze locked with Aymin’s, and the rapid striking of the fingers on a tablet started a course of sedative.
She could hear the woman speaking, and her brain put the words together. How does she keep waking up?
She’s strong. He will be pleased.
Or he will be displeased. Do not think to guess his thoughts. He really doesn’t like it.
Aymin fought the sedative, but it won. All she knew was that there was a masculine presence behind this mess. Of course. It took a man to think that abducting over a dozen women at one time was a good idea.
The next time she woke, she was lying in another medical wing, but it was different. There was chanting.
She turned her head and looked toward the sound. The Backers were lying face up on a series of beds that reached to the far corner.
In that far corner, a medical team, a man in weird robes and a hovering vid camera surrounded one of the Backers.
The Backer had a platform under her hips, her legs were splayed and her heels in supports. The priest reached between her thighs and something in Aymin snapped.
She sat up, stared at the men and women about to violate her associate, and she felt her talent roar back into being with a decade of restriction behind it.
Aymin grabbed their souls and wrenched them, sending the men and women to the ground like puppets with cut strings.
She was naked, but at this point, she didn’t care. One by one, she used her talent to wake the others. Having your soul plucked was guaranteed to bring your defenses into active action.