The Convert: A Novel

Chapter 2

When I  open my eyes, I am in a dimly-lit basement, my hands chained to a post behind my back. My head throbs in pain as I scan the room, noting the single plain light bulb dangling from the ceiling just above me. It casts an occasionally flickering light on my head and body, yet the rest of the room remains shrouded in semi-darkness. I cannot remember how I came to be here.

"Ah," a smooth voice rings through the room, "the young lady is awake." The memories, all of them, flood back into my mind at his first spoken syllable. The man with the raven hair, the cold blue eyes. He has taken me. I watch as the black-clad lunatic descends a creaky wooden staircase, stepping onto the rough cement floor when he reaches the bottom and moving closer to me until he, too, is bathed in the inconstant light of the bulb overhead.

I attempt to speak in a calm and collected manner, and I manage to pull it off despite the fact that my voice has grown hoarse. "If you know I'm a telepath," I say to my captor, "why did you bother with these chains? They can't hold me — I can break them with my mind."

He smiles. It's that same creepy smile, the one I hate. "If you weren't bound," he tells me, smoothing back his hair, "then you might not have stayed long enough to ask me that. I couldn't take a chance —  I need you to stay, if only for a few moments. I need you to hear me out."

I consider this carefully, licking my dry lips. I do not feel particularly scared, as I can crush him sooner than he can touch me, and I am curious. Who is this man? Why did he take me?

"I'm listening," I murmur softly, and he nods. I glance down at my bonds, snapping them with a sharp thought, and leap to my feet. I glare at him expectantly, craning my neck ever so slightly to meet his gaze, as he is a good two heads taller than I am.

"What is your name, girl?" He asks, tilting his head to one side.

I frown, wanting him to cut to the chase, but I answer. "Lissa Darkiss," I say. "And you are?"

His eyes widen, a satisfied smirk spreading on his face. "So I was right," he announces, "to assume, upon learning of your... er, special abilities... that you are the 'woman' my gathering speaks so often about. I must admit you are quite a bit smaller than I imagined, little more than a girl."

"Your gathering?" I retort, folding my arms across my chest. His comment on my size leaves me stung, but I choose to leave it.

"Forgive me. My name is Eekri, and I am the founder and leader of the Unusuals, as we call ourselves." He says this with a good deal of pride, and continues, "There are more of us, you know. People like you and I, who were given the 'cure'. We can do brilliant things, things once considered impossible."

The man called Eekri waits for me to comment. I don't. Instead, I am looking at my wrist, gaping at its bareness. I am missing my band, and in its place is a ghost of its shape in the form of a burn — a wound I have acquired from my "unnecessary disobedience".

"I had it disabled," he assures me briefly, as if removing the Guild's band is the simplest task in the world. My astonishment is largely due to my own past attempts to remove the band, all of which failed miserably.

"You mean," I gasp softly, "they can't track my location?" I feel a surge of hope swim inside me, crashing against the walls of my chest. 

Eekri nods. "They haven't the slightest clue where you are. In a sense, you're free. You can go wherever you want and do whatever you please, so long as you aren't recognized."

I look him up and down, pushing a stray strand of hair from my eyes. Surely my presence here is for a purpose other than to be on the receiving end of a random act of kindness. He must want something from me.

"What's the catch?" I say, taking a step closer to him, my intention to intimidate. I am close enough to count his eyelashes, and he looks suddenly uncomfortable, as if not entirely sure that I won't harm him.

"No catch," he replies quickly, "only an offer. Completely optional."

"Let's hear it then," I smile, giving him a rough prod in the chest with my finger.

"It's a membership offer," Eekri explains, coughing awkwardly. "An offer to join our group, the Unusuals."

I scoff loudly, "Why the hell would I do that? I've heard stories about this gathering you're talking about, y'know. You're a pack of criminals. I mean, only today--" I frown suddenly. Was it today, or days ago? I have no idea how long I've been out. "Anyway, you tried to rob a bank before," I manage.

"Criminals? Bah," Eekri snarls, insulted, forgetting the possible danger I pose him and seizing my bare shoulders. He realizes his mistake when I flinch at the touch, and he drops his arms back to his sides. "We work for the common good! It's you who's on the wrong side. Our city is corrupt, and you don't know the half of it, girl. The things the Guild--" he spits the name, "--have done to people like you and me. Torture, imprisonment, blackmail, murder... They'll do anything to keep us under control. To keep themselves in power, they've been slaughtering anyone who dares challenge their rule — oh, the look of disbelief on your face, it's hilarious! — and all of this has been happening under your nose. Yet you work for them. Tell me, girl, have you ever wondered what became of the people you helped them to capture?"

I am still, my heart beginning to pound against my ribcage, blood rushing to my pale face and painting my cheeks. The words he shoves at me cannot possibly be true, but the pain in his eyes appears genuine, as if he has suffered personally for every soul that has fallen into the hands of the Guild. "What happened to them?" I sputter. Hastily, I add, "And why should I believe you, anyway?"

Eekri sighs slowly, repeating his earlier mistake of resting his hands on my shoulders. This time though, he keeps them there. "I realize that my word will not be enough to convince you," he informs me, "and for that reason, I will have to show you so that you can see with your own two eyes."

I grimace in disgust, disliking the feeling of this man's cold fingers on my warm skin. I shrug him off. "Don't touch me, Eekri," I voice coldly, speaking his fittingly creepy name for the first time. "Anyway, you've got one chance to prove what you said. But I swear, if this is some sort of trick... then, well, you're going to get your ass handed to you."

Eekri chuckles softly, smoothing down his black jacket with his hands, and for a moment he seems a different person entirely. His face transforms for a fleeting moment into that of a carefree everyday with not a worry in the world, and he looks at ease. Just as quickly as it appears, it vanishes, and I am faced again with his icy mask, a somber expression.

A moment of silence passes between us, and I stare coolly back at him. 

"I think you'll make a fine addition to our group, Miss Darkiss." And there it is. Unsettlingly formal, yes, but this fraction of my actual name still seems a step up from 'girl'. The title reminds me instantly of my boyfriend Dex, as he had addressed me as Ms. Darkiss for weeks after our first meeting until I finally coaxed him into calling me Lissa. At the thought of Dex Wells I feel suddenly ashamed of myself, as the realization dawns that I have not thought of him once since I last saw him at the bank. He is probably worried sick about me. A smile touches my lips as I imagine his sunkissed hair, his smiling face, his arms opened wide to embrace me. I was scared I'd never see you again, Lissa.

I push Dexter from my mind and focus instead on Eekri, and at that I'm whisked out of memory lane and back into a chilly basement with a potentially crazy man, who is watching me patiently. I should just leave now, forget this man and his ridiculous ideas, but I know that I will stay. The possibility of truth in the madman's words has rooted itself deep in my mind. I want to know for sure, I need to know for sure.

"I never said I would join," I inform him bluntly, and I follow him toward the wooden staircase.

He puts a hand on the railing and looks over his shoulder at me.

"Oh, but you will. I know you will."