Free Gabriel's Ghost by Megan Sybil Baker

shoulders so quickly I didn’t have time to step back. His eyes were dark yet empty—his touch almost searing. When he spoke, bitterness, pain, and frustration mixed in his deep, harsh tone. “Gabriel’s already damned. He’s been consigned to a Hell he can never escape. It haunts him, consumes him. Until all that’s left are things that make him angry. Things that make him feel a pain I hope to God you never have to feel. Anger and pain are very valid reasons for what Gabriel does. Remember that.”
    He released me and turned abruptly away.
    I hugged my arms tightly around my middle. In all the years, in all the situations I’d faced Gabriel Ross Sullivan, I’d never seen him as deeply angry, as deeply hurt as I had just now.
    The sound of the door sliding open startled me. Ren followed Drogue in. The Guardian’s round face showed clear signs of tension. “This is most disturbing,” he was saying.
    I slanted a glance toward Sully, wondering if he were still angry and caught his gaze fixed on Ren. Ren’s face tilted, questioningly and out of the corner of my eye I saw the slightest shake of Sully’s head. A dismissive shrug of his shoulders.
    A sharp chill crept up my spine.
    I’d seen a vid, in training years ago. Two Stolorth telepaths having a conversation. To the listener, the questions and answers were disjointed. Until the teacher pointed out to watch for movement. All humans and most humanoids unconsciously tilt their heads when listening. All humans and most humanoids nod, even in response to their own silent thoughts. Stolorth Ragkirils were no different. Certain gestures stubbornly remained, even if the words were silent.
    I started adding up the gestures, the answers to questions unspoken. Something I sensed but couldn’t before define.
    Ren might be more than an empath. In spite of Sully’s protestations, in spite of what Fleet had us believe, Ren might have the ability to communication telepathically. Link his mind to another’s. To Sully’s, I was beginning to suspect.
    Ren stated he couldn’t link with his own people. He never said whether he could link minds with a human.
    Why not admit that? He was obviously blind. I still believed that negated his ability to rip a mind apart. So why not admit to a limited telepathy? I didn’t have answers. And didn’t like when I didn’t have answers.
    “We must sit, discuss things,” Drogue said.
    I sat, somewhat more cautious, on the end of the bench. I didn’t like being lied to. But there was nothing I could do about it right now. I recognized it could all just be conjecture, an overreaction on my part.
    However, the first chance I had, I was going to ask some serious questions. And not of Sully; we had a shared past that raised other issues, dragging us off topic. I had to talk to Ren.
    I took a deep breath, settled myself down, calm. Professional.
    Megan Sybil Baker - 38
    Sully leaned back against the desk, his arms folded much as mine had been a few minutes ago. Classic defensive posture. Ren sat on his bed, drew the curtain back to the wall. Drogue stood in the middle of us.
    “We have lost brother Nathaniel. This saddens me, as I know it saddens both of you. And you, Chasidah, had you known him. But we have greater concerns.”
    “What’s the status on the Diligent ?” Sully asked.
    “She has eluded pursuit to this point, I am told. At least, her capture has not been announced. The Fleet has been alerted.”
    “What did the M.O.C. learn?” Ren asked. “And from whom?”
    Drogue shook his head. “The stars, in their wisdom, have not yet convinced the authorities on station to share that with me. I only know at the moment the Temple is not under suspicion; they still seek Blaine’s people and we have no ties with Tos Faros. They stated we were free to continue with the festivities and rituals for Peyhar’s Week. I strongly suggest we do so.”
    Peyhar’s Week. Non-Human Cultures Class 101 again. It wasn’t one of the more serious