Free Chasing Power (Hidden Talents) by Genevieve Pearson Page A

or rather, touch something that’s touching it.”
    “It’s a mental block,” Harry said. 
    Al’s face darkened and he glared at his shorter friend, “Or a mental advantage.  I’d like to see Armani start a car just by touching it.  Or do this.”
    Reaching out, Al touched a slot machine.  Sam jumped, surprised, just as the machine started ringing, releasing a flood of quarters.
    “Al!”  Lane hissed, “We get the point!”  Grabbing his friend’s arm, he moved him away from the slot machine, trying to avoid undue attention.  Sam and Harry followed without being told.  Thankfully, a little old lady with a cigarette swooped in shortly after, claiming the machine and its winnings with dead seriousness.  Lane breathed a sigh of relief.  Al had always been sensitive about his talent.  Of the three, Harry’s abilities were by far the most impressive.  But Al and Lane, well, they were pretty average when it came to talent. 
    Lane was highly skilled at using the power he had, but without the raw energy to back it up, he would never be an impressive mind reader or be able to control thoughts the way other pathics could.  Not that he wanted to, he told himself.  Al, likewise, had put a lot of time and practice into developing his talent.  No matter how adept he became, it frustrated him that his range was still limited by touch.
    “Let’s get going guys, shall we?”
    #
    “C’mon big money, c’mon big money!  THAT’S RIGHT!”
    Al’s idea of low-key hadn’t lasted long.  They were up about seven grand right now, and Sam estimated that this bet would put them close to ten.  Al was giddy and thrilled, despite not betting any of his own money. 
    Sam, for her part, was on edge.  It may have had something to do with the fact that every time Al leaned forward and touched the table, a little jolt went through her.  Like static electricity but...different.  Not entirely unpleasant, but far from normal.  In fact, now that she thought about it, it felt like a faster, more intense version of the strange buzz she felt whenever Lane had used his powers to influence her.  Could it have something to do with being one of these so-called Talents?
    Except I can’t call them that anymore, Sam thought wryly, not after this spectacularly impossible run of luck on roulette.  So spectacular that Samantha spotted a pit boss making his way towards them now.  Looking back towards Lane, tapping his fingers on the top of the table, Sam could see that he, too, had caught sight of the man.
    “We have a winner!”
    “WOO HOO!”  Al jumped up and down, more excited than Lane.  Then again, Al didn’t see the six-foot-two brick making a beeline for them.  The dealer, a fake smile hiding his irritation, slid Lane’s chips over.  Lane grabbed them with a broad smile, “Thanks.  I think I’m going to cut loose while I’m ahead.”
    He turned and walked away from the table.  Samantha took a more circular route, to intersect him by the bank where they cashed in the chips.  Lane silently passed her about a fourth of his chips.  The rest he divided between Harry, Al, and himself.
    Smart , Samantha thought.  Big pay-outs required paperwork for the IRS.  This way, they could take the money and run, so to speak.  Within moments they had cashed in their chips and were heading out the door, thankfully without confrontation.  Pockets heavy, they hit the Strip with another half an hour to kill before the dealership opened.
    “You need some clothes,” Lane said.
    “I do?”  Samantha said.  She looked down at what she was wearing.  Her jeans were ripped and dirty; sure, crawling across a gravel parking lot would do that.  OK, and maybe there was some oil on the flannel blouse she had on, but, “This stuff’s still good.  No point in wasting good money.”
    “Is that stuff good for wearing another few days?  Will it be comfortable to sleep in?  And, most importantly, we have money to waste.”
    “You