Free Astra: Synchronicity by Lisa Eskra Page A

laws designed
to protect the innocent? To be hauled off by a gang of thugs at
night and set on fire like was done to her mother?
    She sank to her knees and tears spilled from
her eyes. No psion was completely innocent, but being treated like
a demon trapped in heaven was more than her fragile ego could deal
with. She should've been stronger than this. During President
Scheidecker's campaign, she'd dealt with worse. Mudslinging
followed her every step. At one point, she received death threats,
but she pulled through. For those hateful hearts, she had little
sympathy, yet she'd never stoop to their level.
    In an act that required great fortitude and
determination, she grabbed as many suitcases as she could hold. She
slung one of them over each shoulder, causing her to hunch over
from the weight. With two in her left hand and one oversized case
in her right, she stumbled toward the door exiting the hold. The
guard had left it open for her.
    Nadine shuffled through it and stepped over
the doorway for the airtight door. One of her shoulder bags got
caught on the doorjamb, and as a result, she tripped. She barely
had time to catch herself before slamming into the hard floor.
While she hadn't hurt herself, her bags were strewn across the
corridor. The clumsiness embarrassed her, but she brushed herself
off and collected her bearings.
    "Could you help me carry these back to my
quarters?" she asked. "I have no issues being alone as long as I
can have my books."
    The guard rolled his pale eyes in overt
irritation. "Do I look like a valet to you, lady? If you want these
bags, you're gonna carry them yourself."
    If she'd been normal, she wagered he'd be
falling all over himself to help her in the hopes he'd get lucky.
Instead of responding, she knelt down and gathered them up.
    "Babysitting you is the last thing I wanted
to do this patrol. I sure as hell don't plan to be your bitch
too."
    His mouth twisted into a snarl when she
glanced up at him, and it drained the last of her poise and
self-confidence. She wanted to curl up in a ball and cry until the
ship landed on New England. The stress of the past week culminated
in grief that fought to free itself from her soul.
    I will not cry in front of him , she
thought. I won't give him the pleasure .
    "On your feet, whore. I don't care who you
are. Get your ass moving already."
    A female voice exploded behind her. "What
gives you the right to talk to a lady like that?"
    Nadine turned around so fast she almost lost
her balance. She hadn't been surprised by anyone since she was a
young girl, before her powers began to surface. When she wasn't
actively reading minds, she always sensed the mental energy of
those around her. The fact that she'd been startled jarred her
nerves. She could not place the voice and yet somehow, it felt
familiar.
    The guard pointed to the rank insignia on his
left sleeve. "This gives me the right. I don't have to cater to her
kind."
    The woman stepped around her and got in the
guard's face. "Her kind? What about my kind? Do you treat everyone
like a doormat? Keep your bloody mouth shut. Trust me—you'll live
longer." Her dangerous glare left no doubt she'd defend herself if
she needed to.
    "You'll be in deep shit when the captain
hears about this. And believe me, he will."
    She tilted her head down and scowled through
her brows. "You do that. Asshole."
    His nostrils flared like he wanted to hit
her. Nadine tilted her head and quelled his anger. <us back to my room, please. You overreacted, and if you report her,
you'll be the one in trouble.>>
    "Let's go," he urged them. "Clear the
corridor and get moving."
    The woman helped Nadine to her feet. "Is
everything okay?"
    As she stared up at the imposing lady, she
recalled a recurring vision she'd had ever since she was a child. A
blond woman always starred in it, one who made her life easier and
better. She'd fought back the monsters of her youth and protected
her from fear-mongering psion-haters. It was the closest