Psychic

XXI

A second later, the doors behind the messenger caved in with a crash and a shroud of smoke. The Fake Bryce waved his hand with another Latin incantation and the smoke disappeared, leaving the intimidating figure of Victoria in its place.

"Well, hello, Olivia," she directed at me, "this is quite the situation you've gotten yourself into, isn't it?"

I scoffed. "Please. Getting kidnapped twice in one night? I've done better." The snide sarcasm came surprising to me, another hidden emotion brought about by all the craziness of the past hours.

She smiled, but it turned poisonous when she spotted Hawthorne and the others in the room. "Why, hello, boys."

I could see Bella practically yearning to yell out in confusion, and to also remind the newcomer that she was not 'one of the boys'.

"Victoria." The Fake Bryce sneered. "Are you stupid as well as ignorant? You're not getting out of here alive. You sentenced yourself to death as soon as you stepped foot in this complex."

She laughed and ignored The Fake Bryce (who I now was calling TFB until his real name popped up) and instead faced Hawthorne. "What's wrong, Michael? Are you afraid that I finally have power over you?"

"Please, I'd never be afraid of you." Hawthorne sneered.

It took me a moment to realize that Hawthorne must've had a first name, and it must've been Michael. It was so common that I barely registered it at first. Someone like him couldn't be normal.

Victoria fixed her gaze on TFB, whose face suddenly contorted in pain. Slowly, his hand lifted up and he muttered something under his breath, his eyes burning in rage. A fresh wave of air hit me and I realized the clear container I'd been in was gone. Victoria smile triumphantly and let TFB go. TFB fell to his knee, face now contorted in anger at Victoria.

"What's the matter, Arnold?" she sneered. "All your training on keeping your emotions and thoughts hidden was for nothing, wasn't it? You trained your whole life for this moment and you failed. I almost feel sorry for you."

TFB, whose real name was Arnold of all things (like, that had to have been the worst name fit for his personality. He striked me as more of a Caine or Xander, something more sinister than Arnold), looked broken. His whole purpose died. After everything, he could still be controlled by Victoria, and he was helpless against her. His memories flashed against my brain and I knew it was because he had let his own walls down. There was no use in hiding his thoughts if Victoria could reach them anyways.

"Ooh, Arnold. Your memories are so tasty. No wonder you wanted to hide them all." Victoria taunted. "There's one about a girl. Skip. Your favorite toy? Skip. Secret meetings with Michael about your brother? Hmm, interesting."

"That's enough," Hawthorne warned, "Stop this now, Vicky."

Victoria flinched at the nickname. I got the feeling it was something he used to call her, before, you know, he framed her for murder.

She turned on him viciously. "You have no right to call me that name anymore!"

Arnold suddenly clutched his head in pain, the power I'd only ever used a couple times in my lifetime. I knew it was supposed to affect most everyone in a general area, except for Magnus and other psychics, so why was it not affecting Hawthorne?

Victoria had noticed too. Her solution, however, was to try harder. Arnold was screaming so loud now that even Bella looked pained in her frozen state.

"Stop!" I screamed.

Arnold laid on the floor, head still in his hands protectively. Hawthorne still looked perfectly fine though. I looked to Magnus, who was hiding his face guiltily.