Chapter 1

I don't know what the hell has been happening to me lately. All the voices in my head are like a low-grade buzz. I can tell that it is very close to driving me mad. Hell, even my damn grades are dropping. I really don't know what to do anymore. It's not as if I can turn to anyone. When school let out, I went straight home and locked myself in my room in hopes of helping keep all the voices at bay.

It helped a little, but not much. I had been locking myself in my room for well over two weeks and I knew that Jenni was getting pissed. For good reason. We usually hung out together in all our spare time. I really didn't know how much longer I could hold her off. If she asked me a direct question, I know I couldn't lie. I never could lie to her. She always had a look that made me fold.

As I was sitting in my room, there was a loud knock at the door. I could tell it was Jenni by the style of the knock. At that moment, I knew what was going to happen—she was going to drill it out of me. In that moment, I felt a moment of pure panic for about thirty seconds. Then, strangely, a wave of calm came over me. Hell, maybe it would be good to get it off my chest. Maybe I would feel a hell of a lot better if someone knew. Well, David, there is only one-way to find out and that is to let her in.

I got up and unlocked the door to see my Jenni with a face on that I recognized well. It was her Resolve Face. It meant that she wanted answers, and she wanted answers now! "I guess you want to talk. Come on in and have a seat. I gotta warn you though, you are going to think that I am a complete fucking nut," I told her with a halfhearted smirk.

"Ah, c'mon, Bro. It can't be that bad," she told me with a sympathetic look. She was always doing that to me. I could count on three fingers the people that she would even bother to comfort. I'll admit it: My sixteen-year-old sister could be a hard-assed bitch if she didn't like or love you.

"No, I mean it; you are going to think I am crazy, because I think I am going crazy!" I tried to keep the panic out of my voice, but I don't think that I did a very good job.

"Just calm down and tell me what's going on."

I took a deep breath and couldn't believe I was actually going to tell her. "I'm hearing voices when nobody is talking. They are all jumbled and I can't understand a damn thing they say and I know I am going crazy because I believe they are other people's thoughts," I told her with my head bowed. I really was ashamed I was going crazy and didn't know what was going on.

I expected many things from my sister. A hug. Laughing. Crying for her brother's lost sanity. What I didn't expect was a snort of amusement and her next sentence. "I told Mom that we should have told you. Nevertheless, noooo, she said that it usually skips the male members of the family and she didn't want to worry you."

I don't know about you, but I was as confused as hell. "What the fuck are you talking about, Sis?"

"Short answer or long answer?"

"Both."

"Ok, short answer—you are not crazy."

"Gee, that helped," I replied sarcastically. "How about the long answer?"

My sister had a thoughtful look on her face for a moment before she answered. "We are what are known as Psionics. Psionics have the abilities of Telepathy, Telekinesis and Empathy. However, they usually specialize in only one. I am specializing in Telekinesis. I know all of this because Mom told me after she caught me floating a pencil with nothing but thought alone about a month ago. In two weeks, she was planning to send me to a school called Ground Zero. There, they will find my weaknesses and strengths and work with them the best they can. I imagine that you will be going with me. And I cannot tell you how happy that makes me!" she exclaimed as she gave me a bone crushing hug.

After she released me, I finally spoke, even though relief was flowing through me. "That's great that I'm going to be going with you in two weeks, but that does not exactly help me now. I was serious; those voices are driving me to the edge. I need help and I need it A.S.A.P. What can we do about that?"

Jenni looked thoughtful again before she spoke. "Mom told me how she knew all this stuff when she told me. She said that she knew a powerful telepath and that they were still friends. Maybe you could get her to call her to come over and help you. She said her friend still lived in the city."

"That's brilliant!"

"You want to talk to Mom now?"

"You bet your ass."

I couldn't believe this shit. I asked Mom and she seemed very sympathetic. She immediately got on the phone and called up her friend that she met in college, who went by the name Westen. After she hung up, she told me that Westen wanted to speak with me alone and that she and the girls were going out for the night and would be back late. Westen was going to stay with me. I can admit it to myself. I was nervous as hell about meeting a powerful telepath. Is it just me, or is my life getting more and more complicated and weirder by the fucking hour?

After Mom had hung up the phone, I didn't waste any time in what I did next. As soon as they were out the door, I picked up the phone and called an associate. Not a friend, an associate. We had known each other since we were eleven. Let's just say that he had Family with a capital "F". That's right; his father was head of the biggest Mafia Family in Detroit.

The cool thing about this particular Family was that they were always on the look out for new weapons. They even had manufacturing centers. The other cool thing was my associate's—Doc—father trusted me as much as he trusted his son. We had done many deals together. He didn't care if I was a sixteen-year-old kid—money was money. That was his saying

Now, as you are reading this, you are probably wondering just where a sixteen-year-old kid could get enough money to gain the respect of one of the biggest Mafia leaders in Detroit. One word—hacking. After meeting Doc at school and learning some things, I decided to target the bank accounts of most of the lower Mafia start-ups. After hitting seven accounts, I had a little over twelve million dollars. Neither Mom nor Jenni knew about any of this.

However, that was only half of what gained me their respect. There are two parts that gained me all their respect, but I'm only going to give you one of them right now. The term, I believe, is investment. I basically trusted Mario Torino, Doc's Father, with six million dollars of my money. I wanted him to invest it in the arms trade, prostitution and assassination—but to stay away from drugs like the plague, just as he did. We both knew that the drug business was shaky at best, and besides that, we both had too many morals to get into something that could fuck up a child's life.

The phone rang three times before someone picked it up. "This is Mario."

"You know, you could just say that this is Mario's Pizza and it would be more covert." I answered with a chuckle, getting one in return. I was one of the few people in the city that could insult him like that and live.

"I see you're still a wise ass, kid. How have you been?"

"Well, to tell the truth, I could be better. I have something that I have to take care of and I don't know if they will end up being friend or foe."

All the sudden, all the humor was out of his voice as he spoke. "You want me to send some of the boys your way, diavoletto?"

I have to admit that this was a tough decision for me to make. I didn't know what this woman was capable of, or if she was even a threat. "If you could, just Joey and Paul. Have them wait on the corner, if they don't get a call from me within thirty minutes of the meeting have them move in."

"That is doable."

"Also do you know if the prototype for my 9mm is ready?"

"I was going to call you later today and tell you that it is ready. I couldn't understand half of what the scientists were saying, but I do know that it is made out of complete Adamantium and you have a little bit of nitro in the shell cases."

"Cool. The meeting doesn't take place for another two hours, so could you just have Joey drop it off and ring the doorbell. I'll wait two minutes to make sure he is gone to get the package. I'll also need five hundred rounds of ammo."

"It will be done, Diavoletto. Be careful, and if you need more help just send the words." There was that name again. My nickname, Little Devil. That wasn't a term of affection—it was an earned name.

"Thank you, my friend. I'll speak with you later," I told him as I gently hung up the phone.

Was I being paranoid? Hell yes. But then again, it was better to be prepared. This was another thing Jenni and my family had no idea about in my life. However, if everything went smoothly, I was going to introduce Jenni to the secret tonight. I knew that she wouldn't have a problem with it. At least I hoped.

I only had one more secret that I was going to spring on her and I was ninety percent sure that she would not bulk at the idea. It was the secret of where I got the nickname Little Devil came from. Besides being partners with Mario in his business ventures, I was also his top assassin.

The doorbell rang right on time and I waited two minutes before getting up and opening the door. There was a large duffle bag on the front porch. I picked it up and unloaded it on the coffee table. The gun was very heavy, but it also had a two-mile range thanks to the nitro. I loaded the experimental ammo into the clip and slapped into the gun, chambering it afterwards. I took the duffle bag and hid it under my bed.

Afterwards, I sat on the sofa in the living room and wondered what the telepath would be like. For some reason I kept getting a picture of a nerdy looking girl since she was supposed to be powerful mentally. Do not ask me why that thought popped into my head. Maybe it was just to amuse myself. I just hoped that she wasn't a complete bitch. It would be cool if she were cool... She could probably teach me a lot of things. Damn those buzzing voices were getting annoying.

Then all of the sudden I wasn't alone anymore. There was a knock at the door.

Carefully getting up from the couch—the voices were making me dizzy—I made my way to the door. When I opened up the door I was damn near speechless. I was expecting a nerd, not a goddess. She stood about five foot eight and had long, straight red hair, with perfect green eyes. Her body was also a knock out, since she was wearing a snug fitting business suit that fit her in a perfect way for a teenager to watch. It showed casual elegance and sexiness at the same time. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. She couldn't be more than twenty.

It was then that she stuck out her hand. "Hi. My name is Westen MacKay. I believe your mother told you that I would be coming over. Actually, she begged me to come over to help you, but that's not important," she stated with a chuckle.

Finally, my manners kicked in. I almost slapped myself for staring at her. "Please come in, I've been expecting you. In addition, might I say, I really hope that you can help me. The voices keep getting louder and louder." Yes, I was begging. Pathetic, huh?

As she walked through the door, she looked at me closely. "Yes, I am pretty sure that we will be able to do something for the short term. Hell, maybe even the long term. It depends on how quickly you pick it up."

Finally, we made it back to the living room and sat down on the sofa, after she laid her briefcase down on the coffee table. That was when she spoke again. "Have you ever heard of meditation?"

"Of course. You mean meditation would have been able to cure this all along?"

"No, of course not. However, it is a big part of it. You will have to meditate for about ten minutes and then I want you to do something thing very specific. I want you to think real hard about a sturdy mental wall that will encircle your entire mind and then kind of anchor it to yourself. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it is very sturdy. I myself use a wall of bricks. Now the important part is leaving three small holes in it so that you can use your gift with control. Are you ready to begin?"

For some reason, I didn't think that meditation would be as hard as it was, but it was. I finally got to the point that she wanted with a few seconds to spare. However, I had to get up and make a quick phone call. I really didn't want my house riddled with bullets. That was when I remembered that she told me to build something sturdy around my mind, leaving three miniature holes so that I could control my gifts.

My concentration was broken, though, when I heard a sharp intake of breath. I opened my eyes and saw that Westen was staring at me with wide green eyes and a very pale face. That was the moment that I could have slapped myself. She was a telepath; of course, she read my thoughts. Therefore, if she read my thoughts, she new that I have killed a lot of people.

"You have nothing to fear from me, telepath. If you don't believe me, look into my head and see my morals and the type of people I have ghosted."