Learning to Heal: An Awakened Novel (The Rising Storm Book 2) Read online

  Thankfully, that seemed to be changing for the better. Ever since I’d started working with my power teacher, Dr. Howard, I’d discovered I’d been utilizing my ability all wrong. Apparently, every time I’d healed someone, I had been shoving every drop of power I had into that person all at once. Sure, it healed whatever injuries or illnesses they had, but it completely drained me of the finite amount of healing energy I possessed. Through Dr. Howard’s instruction, I was learning how to simply allow my power to flow naturally instead, which, while not being as instantaneously effective, allowed me to use my power a lot more effectively and for greatly extended periods of time. If she was right in her hypothesis when it came to just how strong my ability was, I could theoretically take care of over one hundred critically injured patients before I needed to rest and recharge.

  To say that I was anxious to really start digging into what I could do would have been an understatement.

  “What about your project?” I asked Jennifer in return. “Are you getting anywhere?”

  Her sigh of disappointment was really all that needed to be said, but she elaborated anyway. “I’m still running into problems with the computational formulas that allow for independent thought and reasoning while also factoring in memory algorithms that resemble actual human brain activity. And don’t get me started on trying to come up with programming code for emotion.”

  Of course, none of that made even the slightest bit of sense to me. Then again, Jennifer’s gift had to do with being able to create computer programs and apps without actually understanding how coding worked. At present, her life’s goal was to create actual artificial intelligence that was capable of learning, behaving, and experiencing emotion just like a person did. I couldn’t tell you how close or how far she was from accomplishing this, but I was pretty sure Kitty planned on introducing her to her hacker girlfriend Angela at the first opportunity.

  As if reading my thoughts, Kitty scooted from where she was lounging on the couch until she was practically pressed up against Jennifer’s side, “You know,” she said seriously, “that offer for me to put you in touch with Angela still stands. Between the two of you, I’d bet you could iron out any programming difficulties pretty fast.”

  “Thanks,” the tech fey said with a sigh, “but this isn’t a basic or even an advanced programming thing. I’m literally trying to create computer code that simply can’t exist. If I didn’t have fey power behind me, I would have given up on this a long time ago and just settled with creating a really good A.I. that was still controlled primarily by programming.”

  “What she means,” Link said, snatching two pieces of bacon from one of the platters and handing one to Aiden before nibbling on his own, “is she’s essentially trying to create life out of a non-living system. That’s pretty well beyond your girlfriend’s abilities.”

  “I suppose,” Kitty said, though from the musing tone in her voice, I could tell she was already contemplating making a proposition to Angela about collaborating with Jennifer.

  The rest of breakfast went by as it did most ways lately. Conversations flew about either between two people or with the group as a whole. In the past month, our friendship with Link and Jennifer had grown to the point that I honestly couldn’t imagine daily life without them in some fashion or another. We all weren’t constantly attached at the hip or anything, but there were at least a few moments each day that were spent with the five of us together just talking and enjoying each other’s company.

  As we all went about putting the dishes, glasses, and silverware into the dishwasher before heading off to class, there was this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I just couldn’t shake. It was probably just my overactive imagination working on the various news reports I’d been consuming lately when it came to the political goings on back in the United States. It probably wasn’t all that good for me, and both Aiden and Kitty had said so several times, but I simply couldn’t help but watch somewhere around an hour or two of news coverage on YouTube every single day. Unfortunately, doing that didn’t alleviate my fears one bit.

  Ever since Harold Westlake had announced his candidacy for President of the United States, just about every news source, both mainstream and social, was constantly buzzing about it. The fact that he was running on a not-so-thinly disguised anti-fey platform was a big topic of discussion that seemed to be bringing out the worst in people. That might not be fair to think, but there was, without a doubt, a significant spike in anti-fey rhetoric within the last month. If I wasn’t currently in Canada, I would have probably been truly frightened that I might be attacked at any moment simply for being fey. It had all of the hallmarks of a campaign built upon racism that I don’t think had existed since the nineteen-fifties or sixties.

  I really hoped I was wrong.

  Westlake Industries, Reading, Pennsylvania

  “Thank you Officer,” Harold Westlake said genially as he shook hands with the apologetic police officer, “I’m sorry some internet prankster had you come all this way.”

  “Well,” the man sighed as he ran a nervous hand through his hair, “unfortunately, we need to check out any complaints that come to the department. I hope we didn’t disrupt your business like this.”

  “Nonsense,” the businessman and Presidential hopeful said with dismissive a wave of his hand, “I’ve always cooperated with the police in the past and am happy to continue to do so. I will admit,” he said with a self-depreciating smile, “that video footage you showed me was certainly convincing. If I were in your position, I’d probably think it was one hundred percent authentic.”

  “Well, we’re going to be sending it to forensics to try and figure out just where it came from. If we locate any suspects, we’ll let you know right away. You said you’d be willing to sign criminal charges against the person who made it?”

  Harold nodded immediately, his expression hardening slightly. “Absolutely. I don’t want anyone else being slandered like this and potentially having their lives ruined.”

  The two engaged in mild chit chat, mostly consisting of the officer wishing Westlake success in his campaign while the other assured him that he fully supported law enforcement. He waited a full two minutes after an aide had escorted the uniformed man out before reacting in any way. During that time, he casually made himself a cup of coffee and looked at some data on his computer. All the while, Mallory Thompson spoke quietly on her cell phone some distance away. As usual, she was dressed in a smart business skirt suit that was a bit too brief in hem length and far too high in the heel to be considered professional.

  She didn’t even try to hide the fearful wince when Westlake’s fist suddenly slammed down on the desk, making several pens and the keyboard atop it rattle. “How the fuck did this happen?” he demanded furiously.

  “I’ll have to call you back,” Mallory said in a quiet, trembling voice before breaking the connection and quickly slipping the phone away. “I don’t know Master,” she told him nervously as she cautiously approached him. “IT did a check on our systems as soon as the lab was secured and couldn’t find any signs of intrusion. They’re still looking but so far there’s nothing there.”

  Gritting his teeth, Harold Westlake leaned back, closed his eyes, and took several long, calming breaths. When his breathing had somewhat normalized, he opened one eye that peered directly at the lovely aide. Without a word needing to be said, the woman hurried over so she was positioned behind her master and began gently running her fingers through his thick, gray hair, kneading his scalp. She hoped it would serve to further calm his anger, but she was fully prepared to employ other methods should this one fail.

  Fortunately, based upon the way he sighed and his shoulders relaxed a bit, it would seem that her efforts were proving successful. “Has the team been set up in their new lab?”

  “Yes Master,” Mallory replied immediately, shifting her hands so they now gently massaged his neck and the base of his skull. “The move only caused a slight pause in operation
s. Dr. Wright was just telling me that everything is still on schedule.”

  “I want IT to set up a propitiatory surveillance system,” he ordered, “one that is only accessible from my computer and cell phone systems. I don’t want any outsider being able to access it.”

  Nodding, the statuesque woman carefully worked on one particular trouble spot in his neck she knew her master often had difficulties with. “I will inform them Master, but from what I understand it might not be possible.” She gulped when the tension in his neck and shoulders suddenly ratcheted up. “What I mean Master,” she explained quickly, “is that unless you have a system that is essentially hard-wired from the labs surveillance system directly into your computer, it will have to use the internet to function. No matter how much security is put into place, there will always be a chance it could be hacked.”

  Westlake considered that for a moment before his shoulders once again relaxed and he nodded. “Yes, you’re right of course. I suppose there’s no helping that if we want to make sure this doesn’t happen again. Inform IT to set up a hard-wired connection from the lab to my computer here in the office. No other systems are to be able to access it and I want the entire setup password protected.”

  “Of course, Master,” the lovely slave agreed readily, leaning down to lightly feather her lips across the hard column of her owner’s throat. “Perhaps that might be done in a little while?” she inquired huskily as her mouth teasingly nibbled at his flesh.

  While she was certainly aching for her master’s touch, as always, the deliberate seduction served another purpose in this instance. Indeed, it seemed to work as Mallory felt strong hands suddenly grip her around the waist, lift her off her feet, and place her directly onto her master’s lap so her legs straddled his waist. A soft gasp of surprise and pleasure escaped her lips when she felt skirt slide up her stocking-clad legs until her sex, bereft of panties as usual, came to rub sensually against her master’s impressive bulge. Looking up submissively, the slave felt her heartbeat quicken at the steel in her owner’s eyes as his fingers inched her skirt higher until it was bunched at her waist, leaving her lower half completely bare.

  “Pleasure me,” he demanded, to which she immediately obeyed.

  Undisclosed Location, Chicago, Illinois

  “Dammit!,” WiseCrack hissed when the camera feed went dark. She had been watching the flurry of activity with numerous servicemen breaking down the lab when the image had suddenly winked out. She’d tried to bring up the other cameras to maybe track where they were moving the equipment, only to have been met by darkness there too. “Fuck!” she swore, slamming her fist down on the console.

  “What is it?” a young man with blonde hair asked as he hurried into the room.

  Shoving back her own long, blonde hair, the youthful-looking hacker cast a dark look at her associate. “They cut the feed. We’re completely blind.”

  “Can you get it back?” Gear asked anxiously, clearly trying to come up with some kind of a workaround in his mind.

  “No,” the hacker sighed, shaking her head. “They’ve cut their surveillance system from the Internet. I’m sure it’ll come back online soon, but I won’t know where they’ve moved the operation to.”

  “It was a risk,” a voice said from the doorway of WiseCrack’s ‘command center’. As the two turned, they saw Ashe leaning against the door frame with his arms folded. The look on his face and in his steely gray eyes betrayed no sense that he was upset by this sudden setback in their operation. “It was also very informative.”

  “How do you figure?” Gear asked.

  “Because now we know Westlake has someone inside the police,” WiseCrack answered with a sigh.

  “Exactly,” the dark vigilante said with an approving nod. “Get into the PD’s system and find out who was dispatched to the call. When you have their identity, I want you to get into their life and find out everything you can. There’s going to be something there that I can use in the future.”

  Nodding, the girl spun back to her keyboard and started working on the job her boss had established. While she was doing that, Ashe indicated Gear should follow him. “So where are we?” he asked the weaponsmith as the approached the workbench littered with mechanical and technological components.

  “Well, there’s no way I can turn a forty-five or even a three-fifty-seven into a rail gun,” Gear said with a sigh, “at least not so it would still be recognizable as a forty-five or a three-fifty-seven. The frame of your standard semi-auto pistol is just too damn slim to be able to stuff the tech into it that would allow for electromagnetic firing. What the Canadians did, they did with a sniper rifle so they had a lot more space to work with. I know miniaturization has come a long way, but we’re just not there yet for a pistol-sized rail gun.”

  Ashe looked down at the vast collection of materials and parts on the light table and nodded slowly. “I suspected it might be a longshot,” he allowed, though it was clear there was a trace of disappointment in his voice. “In any case, I still want to have at least three of those kinds of weapons available for deployment. If we need to go with assault rifles instead of sidearms, then that’s what we’ll do.”

  Gear considered the task and nodded slowly. “The formation of the hardware will be a bit different because of the differentiating rifle shapes, but I don’t think it should be a problem. Did you have a specific rifle you wanted to use as the ‘shell’?”

  Without any hesitation, Ashe stepped over to the computer and brought up an image on the screen. “Heckler and Kotch HK416 with the barrel cut down. It should prove to be the most resilient frame when it comes to the abuse we’re going to be asking of it.”

  “Well, Germans know how to make a quality weapon,” Gear agreed while making a notation on the schematic. “I should be able to have a prototype ready for you to test out in a couple of weeks.”

  “Good,” Ashe nodded with approval, “and keep working on your other project. Maybe you’ll get a spark of inspiration while working on the assault rifle that will make the same technology work for sidearms.”

  As Ashe turned to step away from the weaponsmith, he caught the faint nod from the younger man, as well as a look on his face that told the vigilante he was already working on exactly that issue. He wasn’t sure it was possible to overcome the limitations imposed by physics when it came to upgrading Ashe’s primary weapons, but if anyone was capable of it, it was Gear. That’s why he’d brought him into his operation so many years ago and why he continued to be one of his closest and trusted friends and associates.

  As he sat down in front of the bank of computer monitors, Ashe brought up all of the data he’d accumulated so far when it came to Harold Westlake. In the section reserved for known associates and the one designated for potential complications, he included close ties inside local police department followed by examine possible connections within federal agencies in both sections. With that done, he sat back and contemplated the wealth of information displayed on the screens.

  He hadn’t been lying when he’d told his team it had been a risk leaking the video footage of Westlake’s experiments to the local police, he simply hadn’t told him that he expected this very outcome from it. For a person like Harold Westlake, having some kind of ties to the police or even having purchased his own officers on the department was to be expected. Now he had a better idea of just how much of the department Westlake owned, which would be further pinpointed once WiseCrack finished her deep dive into the lives of the department’s officers. It wouldn’t be much unless he planned to discredit and then have the officers removed from duty before installing his own agents. That was a very long and drawn out operation that he simply didn’t have time to implement. By the time he had successfully routed any of Westlake’s influence from the local police, the man would likely be President already.

  Instead, it would be far more efficient to go through the personnel files WiseCrack was able to come up with and see if any officers in the department possesse
d the proper psychological profile and skill set to work with him. It might not give him much, but it would be a set of eyes and ears in a location he didn’t currently have under surveillance.

  But all of that would have to be dealt with later. It was time to go to work.

  Caim Hall, Tearmann Institute, Newfoundland

  As Aiden walked towards Caim Hall, she tried very hard not to allow her feet to shuffle. It was difficult to do since it was the last place she wanted to be at the moment. That wasn’t to say she had some irrational dislike of the multipurpose gym/combat simulator. The few times she’d joined Kitty during her training sessions with Link and Gunny showed that the facility had a tremendous capacity to teach and train the students of Tearmann how to handle almost any situation. In fact, there had been some discussion among her, Kitty, and Ashley about taking up Gunny’s offer to run them through a few emergency rescue scenarios.

  No, the reason why every (human) instinct was yelling for her to turn around and start walking in the opposite direction was because of the purpose for her being there. Go day to day in her human form, no sweat. Spend time in her wolf form running the wilds to her heart’s content and hunting until her belly was ready to burst, more please. Bring out that unstoppable and uncontrollable rage monster that was more than capable of destroying absolutely anything in its path… can I just fail the class instead?

  No matter how much her instructor, Mr. Earnest, assured her that Caim would provide her with a completely safe and controlled environment to work on this part of her abilities, Aiden just didn’t buy it. He had never experienced what she had when in her rage form. He didn’t understand what it felt like to be forced to let go of every human and even wolf mentality and become something that wanted to kill and eat almost anything, or anyone, in sight. It was nothing like when she’d embraced her wolf. That ended up being just another part of her personality and one she could largely control. Her rage form was absolutely nothing like that. It literally took over her and ripped control away from her and her wolf. It couldn’t even be compared to riding along in her own head and only being able to witness what happened. Her very mind and personality warped and became that monstrous amalgamation of wolf and man.