Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 (38 page)

Johnny was so much more than that boy
Ingrid had described meeting on the street. There was real power
simmering under the surface, most of it unpolished but still
impressive, yet he’d been able to hide it from all them. He
would’ve been tagged as a PM the day after he took the usual tests
at the age of seven. Despite the heavy New York accent and put-on
naiveté, he seemed bright, calculating, and more mature than his
young appearance would suggest. His blue eyes shone with interest
as he watched Ingrid take a second slice of pizza from Tom. Few
males were immune to her beauty. Mack would have to tamp down his
jealousy and get used to it.

Tom refilled their soda cups, smiling
and joking with Ingrid about her voracious appetite.

“I suppose bopping alpha wolves on the
noggin burns a lot of calories.”

“I need to refuel more often than you
might imagine.” She smiled back at both males, bringing a blush
from Tom and an ear-to-ear grin from Johnny. Refueling, or
rebooting an ingénue usually involved sex. Liz was scowling at
Ingrid again, perhaps with a shade of jealousy?

They
seemed
nice enough, but they were
already manipulating the troupe, and that was going to stop
tonight. Mack wasn't about to trade one dictator for
another.

Gene took another bite of pizza,
grease dripping off his chin. Mack threw him a napkin. "What troupe
were you guys from?" Gene asked, his usual charming smile masking
his keen mind. Ingrid and Mack stayed quiet, waiting for a response
to this key question.

Johnny sat on the table across from
them, his feet on the bench. Liz sat next to him, chin up and
defiance shining in her eyes. Tom sat down next to Gene, looking
slightly uncomfortable.

"Never been a trouper." Johnny
answered.

“Trouper?” Mack had never heard the
expression.

“Yeah, a theta. One a you guys who
work fantasies,” he explained.

Gene didn't seem quite as surprised as
Mack and Ingrid were. "You've never been a part of a troupe?" He
was actually smiling. “I thought it was only a rumor spread around
the underground news links.”

"No. Never.”

“None of you?” Ingrid
asked.

“None of us. You're the first group of
thetas we've trusted inside."

Ingrid scowled at him. "What does that
mean? You're all thetas."

Liz jumped down her
throat. "We don't call ourselves
thetas
." She’d made it into a dirty
word. "We're free to do what we want. Thetas are paid
puppets.”

"But that's impossible. You have axis
power, I feel it. You morphed," Ingrid said, clutching at Mack’s
hand.

"Did you develop your abilities later
in life? Slipped under the radar that way?" Gene asked.

Johnny sighed and rubbed his face. He
was probably as tired as the rest of them. "No. We were born with
powers same as you.”

“The difference is our parents risked
their lives and didn't hand us over. They protected us by searching
for others in the same situation and then forming groups like ours.
We weren’t tossed aside like you guys.” Apparently Liz didn’t give
a shit how her words might affect them.

“Liz, that wasn’t cool.” Johnny was
obviously pissed that Liz was acting like she didn’t want their
help.

As her bombshell hit the
ground, the three
troupers
grew very still.

Ingrid whispered, "Oh.”

Mack stayed silent, his
mind swirling with memories. He thought about life as a child in
one of the sterile training institutes, the fear he'd experienced
during his meetings with The Director, the isolation, the loss of
his childhood and the overwhelming loneliness.
P
ainful feelings they’d all been
forced to live with.

The trio from this hidden world had
parents who'd loved them enough to keep them safe from the shit
Ingrid, Gene, and all the rest had experienced as part of a troupe.
Mack gave Ingrid’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“My parents hid me until I was eight
years old. Then I was taken,” Gene whispered. “We lived in the
sticks. We thought we were safe.”

Johnny spoke to Ingrid and
Mack. "I'm sorry. I'm sure that info must hurt, but ya can't know
your parents’ circumstances. Maybe they were hungry and had too
many mouths ta feed already. They had no idea what was really going
on in these schools and troupes, and probably believed all the hype
about how your life would be so much better than anything they
could have given ya. In some ways your life was a
lot
better than
ours.”

Tom spoke up. "Money's tough to come
by, so we're often hungry. We've all had to beg at one time or
another. At least a quarter of us have died from exposure in the
winter or from street attacks. Things have improved lately because
there’re more of us. We're more organized and getting better at
using our axis power. It was really tough for the first groups who
rebelled, for our parents. You've been schooled and trained. You've
always had access to medical care if you needed it, a place to
live, and good food."

Ingrid balled her hands into fists and
spoke up angrily. "My life has been crap. I've been a prisoner—a
fucking slave! I've been treated like a whore my whole life. The
Director sold me to that alpha asshole for a hundred grand, as if I
was some sports car. Don't tell me how perfect a troupe theta's
life is, because you've never lived it. I'd have begged on a street
corner every night to have been free to make that choice." When the
adrenaline rush dissolved, her body seemed to deflate before Mack’s
eyes. She sat back and stared down at her trembling hands. Mack
snaked an arm around her shoulders, urging her closer.

"Begging for food when you're starving
isn't really a choice. Especially when there are ten little ones to
feed back at the safe house," Liz fumed.

“We usually live in groups of around
twelve to twenty people,” Tom explained, maybe hoping to ease some
of the tension.

Johnny threw Mack a wary glance.
"We've been watchin’ your troupe for a while, tryin’ to gauge
whether or not you'd help us. Then we heard about the new Ingrid
comin’ ta join up. We have contacts in Atlanta." He glanced in her
direction. "They told us that ya used to go out with Gene Stone and
hand out money ta people who needed it. Ya made the choice to do
some good. Most thetas don't give a shit. I positioned myself in
your path as a test that night and ya didn't disappoint
us.”

“Very sneaky.” Ingrid leaned against
Mack’s shoulder, looking tired, but focused on what Johnny was
telling them. Even with the danger they were in, Mack couldn’t
remember feeling happier. “Why do you suddenly have this crazy New
York accent?” Ingrid asked.

“Born and bred in Brooklyn, babe.”
Johnny grinned and she laughed. “I can pull off almost any accent,
but this is whatcha get when I’m not on duty.” He winked,
dispersing most of the previous tension.

“I like it.” She smiled
back.

“You've been behaving as a free agent
for quite a while, Ingrid. You can't imagine how excited our group
is to have you here," Tom added.

Ingrid shook her head. "It's not that
the troupes don't give a shit—we're not encouraged to go out and
interact. We're threatened with punishment if we do."

“A slap on the wrist, right?” Liz
asked, pouting.

Ingrid’s voice rose in anger. “If you
call being raped by a gang of wolves a slap on the wrist, then
yes.” If looks could kill, these two females would be gasping out
their last breaths.

I’m not criticizing you. The threat of
punishment didn't stop you and Gene Stone from helping out." Liz
conceded.

"No, but we were both a little crazy.
Most thetas never see what's going on out in the
street."

Gene asked, "How many of you are
there?"

Tom answered. "Around twenty-two in
this house, ten are children or teens. And there’re other groups
throughout the city and across the country.”

“There are children here now?” Ingrid
asked, glancing at the drawings on the walls.

“We've sent all our usual residents to
other safe houses while your troupe is staying here, in case
there's trouble."

"How did you take children out of the
training institutes?" Ingrid sounded dubious.

"They're our member's children. Born
naturally."

"Why are you feeding us this bullshit?
We're sterile." Ingrid snapped.

"That's another lie the dirt bag came
up with. None of us are sterile." Liz said.

"What are you saying?" Mack
asked.

Johnny explained. "In the institutes,
the guys are given periodic inoculations to inhibit sperm
production from the age of thirteen. Now you take meds every week,
right?”

“Vitamins.”

“Not only vitamins. The shots they
give the females every three months are a birth control
super-cocktail. Once you’re in a troupe you continue to get the
meds. You've always been able to have children.”

Ingrid was trembling now. “You’re
sure?”

If you breed with another like
yourself, your child will be like you," Tom said.

"A theta?" she asked.

"You're not a theta anymore, Ingrid,"
Liz shot back. “You’re with us.” Her sharp tone was a challenge, a
gauntlet thrown down. It was clear to Mack the troupe would need to
pledge loyalty to this disorganized street gang to survive—unless
they could step in and use their experience and powers to improve
things.

Gene frowned. "We're all thetas, even
you. It doesn't have anything to do with being in a troupe. It has
to do with our powers and abilities. What we can do with our axis
and psycore. Can you project fantasies?”

To their surprise, the rebels shook
their heads. "There's been no evidence of us having psychic powers.
Only axis," Johnny answered, looking mildly
disappointed.

"But I felt it when you forced me to
morph." Johnny started to protest, but Ingrid cut him off. "I know,
normal morphing doesn't involve the psycore, but your forced morph
did. You projected a solid fantasy onto me.” She scanned each face.
“You probably all have the ability, you simply need to wake it up."
They seemed unsure.

Gene asked, "Do you even
know what
theta
means?" Mack smiled. Of course, Gene would have looked it
up.

"Isn't it a Greek letter of the
alphabet? The 'th' sound?" Johnny answered.

"Did The Director pick it?” Tom
asked.

“No. A supe in the archive department
suggested it. It’s a play on the word thespian, after Thespis, an
ancient Greek poet. A thespian was an actor. But here’s the good
part. It was also a symbol of death in Ancient Greece, the symbol
drawn on doors where people had died or where someone was marked
for death. In other words a theta isn't someone you should fuck
with."

"The Director will be learning that
lesson soon," Ingrid muttered.

Johnny laughed. "A symbol a death,
huh? Okay, cool. Guess I'm a theta after all."

"What do you usually call yourselves?"
Mack asked.

Liz answered. "Nothing special. Johnny
and I are hunters or rovers, roaming the neighborhoods and taking
out supes who mess with our people. Tom barters to get us basic
supplies like clothes and food and also handles our tech problems.
We have some teachers, who help with the kids and some medics who
help when people get sick or are hurt on the street. We all have
responsibilities and so will you, if you want to stick around."
Liz's anger had flared-up again, bringing Mack a brief vision of
fangs and blood.

"You're not part wolf are
you?” Gene asked, raising a point Mack had also been
considering.
Great minds think
alike
.

Tom grinned, and answered. "She's got
anger issues. Plus her morphs are as smooth as silk."

Tom received a dark glare from the
female in question. “My anger issues stem from dopes like you,
talking about my anger issues.” Liz switched her gaze to Gene. "I
like to rip out their throats. Fangs and claws help with
that."

"Whose throats?" Gene flashed her a
picture-perfect smile.

But Liz ignored the thousand-watt
offering. "So far, I've taken out three of The Director's vampire
henchmen, plus two of his demon lieutenants.” When his eyes widened
in surprise, she shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Also a few odd
vamps and wolves who were giving us trouble on the
streets."

Gene seemed amused by her
bravado. "Your group’s self-sufficient. What exactly do you
need
our
help
with?"

Mack agreed. This was key.

Tom answered. "We need training. We
can use axis, but not to our full potential. And we have no psycore
skills at all. You’ve had the best training in the world. We were
hoping you’d agree to help us.

They were silent for a few moments, no
one wanting to make any deals until they heard the whole story.
Mack asked Johnny, "Did you kill Joseph Herron and his
second?"