The Convert: A Novel

Chapter 1

I lie placidly on my back, a sea of cloudless blue above my head. I could forget my responsibilities, forget life and the world looking up at that beautiful sky —if only temporarily.

I am on the roof of a skyscraper, a stunning cylindrical building with hundreds of sparkling blue crystal windows. My unruly auburn hair is sprawled around me on the cement. I cut it myself every once in a while, and it does the job and stays out of my way.  It falls just past my chin, but no further.

A memory of my boyfriend surfaces in my mind. Your hair is such a lovely contrast with your snow white skin, he'd said. You're like a porcelain doll. Dex always makes me feel beautiful and special, with or without my powers.

I feel a familiar warmth on my right wrist. I don't need to bring my arm to my face to know what it is — the smooth metal band the Guild secured to my arm is rising in temperature, becoming uncomfortably hot. I want it to stop before it burns my skin for the umpteenth time, and I do so in the only way I can. I answer the call, stumbling to my feet and pressing the single green button on the underside of the bracelet.

"34 Kaspur Court," reads the mechanical female voice from the band's speaker.

I heave a sigh of relief as the bracelet cools. I can always choose not to visit the address, but Dex will probably have my head if he ends up doing this on his own again. They're counting on the two of us, Lissa, he'd said to me years ago, before we were together. Always the two of us.

I inch my foot closer to the edge of roof, peering down at the "everydays" — as Dex likes to call them — ignorantly shuffling about, some cruising by in their fancy cars, others opting for a good old-fashioned walk as means of travel. From where I stand, they look like tiny insects.

I close my eyes, focus my mind, and step off the roof. When I open my eyes I am not falling, I am floating, suspended in the air as if secured by invisible wires.

It is time to put my abilities to good use.

* * *

In ten minutes I arrive at Kaspur Court, hovering several feet off the ground. My destination is a ornate bank with wide stone pillars, its smooth walls painted a white so pure that it aches my eyes to look in its direction. The structure is surrounded by police-clad everydays in cars with flashing sirens, many of them clustered at the building's entrance. The rest of the parking lot is a mass of sleek civilian vehicles, their brightly coloured finishes glimmering in the sunlight.

"Lissa!" a child squeals with delight, pointing a tiny finger at me as she clings to her mother in a crowd of onlookers. The rest of them — men, women, and children alike — follow the girl's gaze. The troubled expressions on the faces of the crowd are replaced with looks of relief. They're not the ones I'm here for, though.

I hear a smooth voice calling my name from the ground and turn my eyes downward to see Dexter Wells,  his signature sly smile plastered on his face. Dex has always been a real looker, with big hazel orbs for eyes, sun-kissed sandy hair, and a defined jawline to top it off. His golden skin is so different from mine — he tans easily and evenly, unlike me. My skin knows only two shades — white alabaster, and when I burn, red lobster.

"It's about time you showed up," Dex scoffs, taking my hand as I float down to land beside him. He pulls me into a quick bear hug, then nods in the direction of the bank. The police will be inside already, of course, but Dex and I will wrap up the problem as best we can. We maneuver around the crowd and push forward to the entrance steps, the eager eyes of the everdays glued to our backs as we move. Together, Dex and I shove open the heavy double doors. 

"Stop! I'll shoot!" a male voice shrieks.

I find myself in a vast, high-ceilinged room, its walls lined with booths and cowering employees behind counters. In the centre of the room stands a man, poised with a gun in his hand. He seems unsure of where to point it, given the number of people in the room, but he brandishes it desperately as he swings it around him, at last resolving to aim it at me. 

Our eyes lock.

The man's features are sharp and angular, thin lips set into a hard line, icy blue eyes so piercing that I cannot look away. Raven hair falls to his shoulders, neat and straight but lilting upward slightly at the bottom. Save for his eyes, he looks as if he has stepped from an ancient black-and-white film. Clothed fully in black, he is almost completely devoid of colour, complete with skin the palest I have ever seen. Paler, even, than my own.

 "Put the gun down," I growl, breaking the silence at last.

The man smirks, and his expression is incredibly unsettling. "And if I don't?" His voice is like silk, and I suspect he is very gifted in the field of persuasion. 

It is my turn to smile. "Then I'll take it from you!"  My mind reaches toward him as naturally as the simple movement of an arm, and I wrench the gun from his hand without lifting a finger. Pulling it toward me, the weapon rattles to the ground at my feet.

The ghost-like man watches me, dumbstruck and gaping, as I stoop to pick up the gun and toss it over to Dex. Nodding in approval, Dex points the weapon at the criminal.

"You're..." the man starts, "a telepath?" A realization dawns in his cold eyes.

Following this moment, everything happens much too quickly. The black-clad man vanishes abruptly from sight, and before my brain has time to register this fact, an arm links around my waist from behind.

I want to scream, but just as I open my mouth to call for help I receive a painful blow to the head. With that, my cries are silenced, and blackness spreads across my vision.

I struggle, I fight it, but I am not strong enough to keep myself from slipping into a state of unconsciousness.