”Thanks,” I said as I took the wheel from Astrid. Our fingers touched briefly, and she giggled.

“So who was the monster girl my detector picked up then?” I asked. “One of yours?”

”Belinda.” Astrid said. “Definitely one of mine. You’re going to like her,” she said.

“A friend of yours, then? The psycher?

Astrid smiled again. “A friend, yes. A friend and a colleague.”

I couldn’t help thinking about what the soldiers had said about a Beta Team with two casualties. Was this Belinda the person responsible for those casualties?

”We’re best friends, actually,” Astrid went on. She gestured over her shoulder with one long-clawed thumb, back toward the scene of our battle. “If you liked what I did back there, I think you’re going to love what she can do.”

I hadn’t ever met a psycher before. Until right this minute, I hadn’t thought there were any psychers in the United States. Those in other countries kept to themselves after a few serious incidents occured in the Soviet Bloc a few decades ago. Mindflaying was as sinister a talent as it sounded.

It was hard to keep track of all the various kinds of Outworlders. Many were so secretive that new species were being discovered every other year. The psychers had been registered since before World War I, but their powers were still very much a mystery. Their names kind of gave them away, though. Whatever the details, it sure wasn’t going to be pretty.

My single headlight shone on something floating above the road. We were coming up fast. It was like a little black cloud. I slowed up as we got closer, and I saw that it was writhing, like a fog made of snakes or writhing black tentacles.

Chapter 4

”It’s Belinda!” Astrid yelled from beside me. ”Slow down, Jeremy!”

”That’s her?” I asked as I eased off the gas. “Your buddy, the psycher?”

“That’s her. Stop so she can get in.”

I didn’t like the idea of what her black fog would do to my upholstery, but I figured I had to put aside such concerns for the greater good. We came to a stop directly in front of the writhing cloud of black fog. It was very intimidating up close, but I rolled down the window and leaned out to get a better look. As I did so, the writhing shadowy mass slowly coagulated into the form of a woman.

She was as beautiful as Astrid, but in a different way. She was smaller, and instead of Astrid’s mop of sleek silver, a mass of purple dreadlocks tumbled down Belinda’s back. Her toned body was well-complimented by the skin-tight bodice and pants of black leather that she wore. She raced the few steps to my car, hauled open the door, and jumped into the back passenger seat.

”Jeremy,” Astrid said, ”this is Belinda.”