Shadow game Page 0,114

the large box bolted into the corner of the room. One by one the bolts began to wriggle, spin, fly loose. The child pressed a hand to her temples but her gaze never wavered. Inch by slow inch, the box began to lift from the floor.

"Higher, Lily. Stay in control." There was a fierce eagerness in Whitney's voice, a wonderful triumph.

The box rose higher, dipping at one end, shaking unsteadily.

"Now move it across the room. You can do it, Lily, I know you can."

Ryland watched with his heart in his throat as the large box, obviously very heavy, rose even higher and began to float across the room. Telekinesis. He had no idea the weight of the box because they had fast-forwarded the tape but he had the feeling it was extraordinarily heavy. The child broke out in a sweat but her gaze remained resolutely on the box.

It was trembling visibly now, rocking in the air. It was high, nearly to the ceiling, but had only traveled a foot from its original position. Whitney made a sound of displeasure. The child winced. The box rocked more.

"Concentrate!" Whitney snapped the order.

Ryland was watching the child. Her face was white, her eyes enormous. Lines of strain appeared around her mouth. She was trembling with the effort to hold the box steady. Every muscle in Ryland's body was tense. He began to sweat as well. He remembered the tremendous concentration it took to hold an object and the pain suffered by all who were able to accomplish it. And they were grown men. Watching Lily's childhood unfold sickened him. He wanted to gather her to him and hold her protectively but Lily had moved a distance from him, her body posture screaming at him to leave her alone. Her arms were crossed protectively over her breasts and she'd drawn up her knees, hunching into herself.

Sickened, Ryland watched as the box began to make its way across the room, inch by slow inch. The closer the box moved toward Lily, the more control the child seemed to have. The box steadied, spun around, began to travel back.

Just that fast, the child was through. She slammed both hands to her temples, crying out in pain. The box dropped like a stone from its position near the ceiling. The crate hit Lily's leg, driving through flesh, tearing through muscle, pulverizing bone. Lily screamed hysterically as blood erupted and pooled around her. The wooden box splintered apart on impact, spilling weights onto the floor.

Rosa leapt past Dr. Whitney, reaching both hands to Lily's leg, clamping down hard and yelling instructions to her boss. The man stood in total shock, the color drained from his face, his eyes on the little girl writhing in pain.

"Dr. Whitney, help me!" Rosa barked the order, going from trembling shy girl to assertive woman in a crisis. "You did this with your meddling in God's ways. Now you have to fix it! Do as I say."

Lily's hand went to her throat, a protective gesture. "That's why Rosa would never talk about my leg. She always believed the things I could do were unnatural and should never be talked about. More than once she told me to make certain I never do anything 'unnatural' or God would punish me." Involuntarily she rubbed her aching leg.

Ryland couldn't watch anymore. He stood up abruptly and turned it off. "I don't see why you would want any of these tapes, Lily. What good are they to us?"

That drew her gaze as he knew it would. She looked shocked, her eyes haunted. Troubled. "The tapes provide us with information we can compare against the data on you and the men. If any of the exercises were left off or not done on a daily basis, we can teach the men to do them. The entire point here is to allow all of you to rejoin society at some level. Hopefully as fully functioning people."

His gaze went to her hands. Her slender fingers twisted together, a certain sign of agitation. All of his men were doing their best to avoid any use of psychic talents, particularly telepathy, unless it was strictly necessary. Cowlings might be able to find them using the surge in energy if he happened to be close enough.

Lily had shields she had developed over the years and it was automatic on her part to use them. The house with its thick soundproof walls and setting away from the close proximity of others was a sanctuary