More Than an Echo (Echo Branson Series) Read online

  Copyright © 2010 Linda Kay Silva

  Bella Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 10543

  Tallahassee, FL 32302

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper

  First Edition

  Editor: Katherine V. Forrest

  Cover Designer: Linda Callaghan

  ISBN 13: 978-1-59493-219-9

  Dedication

  This one is dedicated to my dad, Ron Silva, who let me turn his house into our house, who encouraged me to build the library of my dreams, and who loves up my princess Lucy and makes her tail nearly wag off her body. He’s given me more than a place to park my Harley—he has given me a home filled with love and laughter, frogs and turtles, books and movies, and most of all, a place where I am finally free to be me. I love you.

  Acknowledgments

  Moving my life and my family back to California was not easy, but so many wonderful things have happened since we’ve been back. I want to take this time to thank those people who have helped turn California back into our home.

  JUGS (Just Us Girls): Lil G, Irish, Easy Breezy, and Peligrosa, otherwise known as Gita, Catherine, Julie and Silvia. Riding with you guys brings me so much joy. Thank you for your friendship and support.

  JUGS’ men: Rich and Gordon. As guys go, you two totally rock! Thank you for your acceptance, your friendship, and your willingness to hang with five chicks with uber cool rides!

  My daughters, Sunnie and Kelley: Without you here with us, it just couldn’t be home. I am so proud of both of you. You have grown into fine young women who care about social change. Party on!

  Paul and Ellen, Riley and Isaac: As we start a new life, we begin new traditions. Thank you for being part of both. I consider your family an extension of ours.

  My cousin Kris: Thank you, thank you, thank you, for being my friend, and for taking care of Uncle Ronnie whenever we go away. You are truly one of the most giving people I know.

  My other cousins, Otis, Katie and Tyler: For loving me in spite of myself and for laughing with me through this crazy life of ours!

  Aunt Cathy and Uncle Richard: You accepted us when few others did. You’ll never know how much that means to me. You are the kind of Christians who make Christ proud.

  My editor, Katherine V. Forrest: Thank you for whipping me and Echo into shape. I have learned so much from you and have grown as a writer and woman because of it. Thank you for being my taskmaster.

  Finally, my partner in crime, Lori: It takes courage to ride on the back of a Harley and to watch your daughter and partner jump from a plane. Your incredible courage is surpassed only by your capacity for love and your willingness to let me be me: rider, writer, player, traveler, and…sigh…zookeeper. Thank you will never be enough. Will a convertible suffice? LOL.

  Thank you for all you do for me and dad. Without you, we’d be living on burnt toast and pop tarts, and wearing dirty clothes. You’re the best.

  About The Author

  Linda Kay and her partner of 13 years have returned to her childhood home in the San Francisco Bay Area to care for her elderly father. There, she has reunited with old friends, met new ones, and fallen in love with her new Harley, Lucky. She belongs to a women’s motorcycle club, plays on a tennis team, rescues turtles and tortoises, and travels around the world, having recently returned from Egypt. When she’s not Professor Silva teaching Early American and British Literature at a Military University, she is busy working on the third novel of her Across Time Series and her fourth installment of this series. Linda Kay can be found on Facebook and YouTube under Linda Kay Silva, as well as Twitter under iamstorm. She welcomes (and responds to) all email at [email protected].

  More Than an Echo

  At the age of fourteen I became what I am today.

  It nearly drove me insane.

  They say your teenage years are the hardest. Imagine being a teenager and coming into a paranormal power no one believes in and you don’t even know you possess. Imagine being semi-normal one minute and supernatural the next. Imagine what would happen to your world if suddenly you knew what everyone around you was feeling. Every one. Every feeling. All the time.

  Just imagine.

  It was November of my freshman year in high school, and my best friend, Danica, and I were cutting through Mrs. Jorgensen’s creek on our way home. High school had started out great for us. I was in a really nice foster home with two other kids, neither of whom were foster kids. I had been in the home for over a year and finally felt like this one might be the one. Life was good for me. It was even better for Dani.

  Danica was a cheerleader and well-liked by everyone. Half -black, half-white, she was considered almost exotic by my new family’s white-bread standards. We both attended a private school in Oakland, where most came from upper middle class white families. When I say most, I mean, I didn’t. I came from foster care. I could have been born in a mansion or a trailer park, but Danica didn’t care. Money and color meant nothing to her because she would never fully be accepted in either community. If the black kids didn’t like her, she just flipped them the bird. If the white kids didn’t like her, she would just flip them two birds. That was the beauty of Danica. She didn’t care who liked her.

  Unfortunately for her, on this chilly November afternoon, someone liked her a little bit too much.

  That someone had followed us to the creek as we walked and chatted on our way home from school. I’d used the path before without fear or trepidation, so I thought nothing of the pinpricks on the back of my neck as we neared the hole cut open in the cyclone fence.

  But as we got closer to the fence, those pinpricks changed into something I had never experienced before. Like a blast of hot air on every nerve in my body, something warned me the person following us wasn’t just using the shortcut; whoever it was carried malicious intentions. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew it as surely as if it had already happened. I knew because I could feel it, as if I were wearing his skin.

  Stopping just before the opening, I whirled around to face Todd Abrams, a linebacker on our football team. He was wearing the school uniform of maroon polo shirt and khaki pants. He was also wearing a smile much like the wolf must have worn in Little Red Riding Hood. I felt that grin before I saw it, and it made me nauseous.

  “Hey,” he said, leering at Danica, his eyes traveling up and down her body. He never once looked my way; not once.

  I didn’t mind. I was used to being invisible; used to people looking over and around me. What I wasn’t used to was feeling as if I were inside someone else’s head. I wasn’t used to swimming in an energy field that felt like static electricity a hundred times over. I have to say…it freaked me out big time.

  Blinking several times, I swallowed back a small pocket of bile. Whatever hot blast I had felt, now radiated from my brain down to my fingertips and toes. It was almost as if I were Todd. I knew exactly what he wanted, exactly what his intentions were, exactly what he was feeling. They couldn’t have been more real had he whispered them to me. Something weird was going on with me, and if I hadn’t been so afraid of Todd’s feelings, I would’ve been scared to death of what was happening to me. My heart raced, my palms were sweaty, my breathing became shallow, and I knew… I knew we were in trouble.

  “Come on, Dani. We’re going to be late,” I said, never taking my eyes off Todd. My hands were shaking as I reached out to push Danica through the opening before he could get any closer. I could sense his pl
an through every pore in my body, as if my soul kept jumping from my body to his and back again. It felt creepy and…dirty. When my hand reached out to touch Danica, I suddenly felt her emotions as well; it was as if I had leapfrogged from inside Todd to Dani. She was irritated by his interruption. Irritated and pissed off. I felt her emotions as if they were my own, and I had no idea how I was doing it.

  It was the first time my powers kicked in and I had no clue what they were or how to stop it.

  But I did know one thing: we were in danger.

  “Beat it, Todd. I already told you I’m not interested.” Danica casually tossed this out as she had done so many times before to other guys who didn’t quite understand her boundaries.

  “Jane,” Todd said softly, looking over at me for the first time. His eyes might as well have glowed red. “Why don’t you scoot along and let me walk Danica home.”

  Yes, my real name…the name bestowed upon me at birth, was Jane. Jane Doe. I was born one of many Jane Does that year and actually remained one until my eighteenth birthday when I changed it to something more fitting; something more in line with who I turned out to be. Something which raised its head this very minute.

  Fighting back the strange feelings crawling beneath my skin like a bad drug, I tried to shake off the images pinging around my head like a pinball. Was I going crazy? Was there something wrong with me? Could they tell? Danica, bless her heart, was staring at Todd as if he were nuts. If she had wanted him to walk her home, she would have asked him to. Danica didn’t appreciate anybody telling her what to do or assuming they knew what she wanted.

  The emotions rolling over me were definitely from Todd, and were as palpable to me as the very air I breathed. For a second, I thought I was going to faint from the overwhelming sensations whirling through my mind, confusing me, disorienting me. It nearly took my breath away.

  When I finally, and with great effort, was able to push the emotions away from me, I managed to say under my breath, “Danica. Please. Go.” This time, I shoved her with all my might.

  Todd took a step toward the hole in the fence and I knew it was now or never. I knew it as if I were standing in his shoes; he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He was going to get what he came here for and if Danica wasn’t going to give it, he intended on taking it.

  Without hesitation, I acted. Swinging my extraordinarily heavy backpack at him, I hit him square on the side of the head, knocking him away from the opening and onto the ground. He landed with a whoosh sound forced from his mouth, and was momentarily stunned. Then, with one final push, I shoved Danica completely through the hole.

  “Run!” Turning back to Todd, who was lying on the ground holding his bloody head, I lost my mind. I grabbed my heavy geometry book that had spilled from my pack and continued my assault. Straddling his chest, I brought that book down again and again on his face. I couldn’t see where Danica went, but I felt her fear leave as I bashed Todd’s head over and over with my five-pound math book. As he struggled beneath my weight, I felt his lust and arousal transform instantly to anger and rage. He wanted to kill me.

  I’m sure he would have, too.

  So I kept hitting him. And hitting him.

  I had to keep him down or he would hurt me. I didn’t know how long I was smashing his bloody face, but it was long enough for his blood to end up on my clothes, arms and backpack. I probably would have kept hitting him until I crushed his head into a pancake, but Danica had returned with Mr. Morgan, who had to pull me off Todd.

  “Jane!” Danica cried, coming to assist Mr. Morgan.

  Something had happened to me; something big and weird and scary and bad. I was like some feral girl completely out of control, lashing out blindly at an enemy only I could see. When Mr. Morgan finally calmed me down, he kept his arms around me, which was wise. I glanced at the unmoving Todd and wondered if I’d killed him. The scariest part was that I didn’t think it was such a bad thing if I had.

  “Jane?” Danica knelt in front of me and took my hands. They were covered with Todd’s blood, but she didn’t care. “Are you okay? What…what happened?”

  “He…he was going to hurt you, Dani. Don’t ask me how I knew, I just did. He…he…” I saw Todd twitch, and started for him again, when I realized that the only emotion I was feeling from him now was pain. “I’m…I’m sorry if I scared you.”

  Danica glanced over her shoulder at Todd. “Don’t be sorry for protecting yourself, Jane. Don’t ever be sorry.”

  When the paramedics arrived for Todd, the police came for me. I was nearly incoherent, not because of what I’d done to Todd, but because my brain was frying from all the images and emotions I was getting from Danica, Mr. Morgan, the police, the paramedics and even a few of the bystanders. I was losing my mind feeling all those erratic feelings at once. It was like a dozen different voices in my head at the same time, only I wasn’t hearing voices…I was feeling emotions. The strength of those feelings were practically driving me mad.

  Apparently, the police thought so as well because the next ambulance that came was for me, and the last thing I remember was being strapped down and given a shot of something I welcomed because it finally calmed the whirlpool of emotions sucking me under.

  “Be cool, Jane. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

  As my eyes got heavy, the emotional noises of the crowd began to dissipate, leaving me with the only question going through my mind: What the hell was happening to me?

  When I came to after beating Todd’s questionable brains in with my math book, I was strapped to a white bed in a white room, under white sheets, with a dark cloud sitting somewhere inside my skull. Whatever drug they had shot in me had given me a horrible headache and a metallic taste in my mouth.

  If you’ve never woken up after being drugged, and found yourself strapped to a bed in a nuthouse, count your blessings. You can’t even imagine how incredibly frightening it is to a fourteen-year-old-girl who had just experienced her first psychic moment, her first violent outburst and her first run-in with the cops only to find herself in the looney bin. It was the worst thing in the world; a nightmare of gigantic proportions, and when the fuzz finally drifted from my head, I realized that I was strapped to the bed with these thick leather restraints. My legs were no freer. I was pretty well tied up and trying my hardest not to panic.

  One minute, I was walking home with my best friend and talking about homecoming, and the next minute…here I was in this living hell, strapped to a bed in a nuthouse. Alone. Well, alone with only the memory of trying to kill Todd.

  Kill Todd?

  Oh my God, had I succeeded?

  No one wants to be immobile. To wake up and know you cannot move, cannot itch your nose, cannot do a thing for yourself. I did the only thing anyone would have done in my position.

  I screamed.

  Yep. I started thrashing about like some wild woman; yelling, kicking, fighting against the restraints that weren’t going to budge. I don’t know how long I flailed around before an enormous black orderly entered the room. With him came this weird calming effect that I felt to the marrow of my bones.

  “You gotta calm down, sweetpea,” he said, reaching over to touch my arm. I stopped fighting, mostly because I was just so glad that I wasn’t alone anymore. I think that was the scariest part.

  “Where am I?” I asked, my tongue feeling thick and heavy in my mouth. My heart pounded in my head, but that wasn’t the only thing I felt. There was a still strength from the big black man peering down at me with what looked like yellow eyes. It washed over me like a warm blanket, and helped me relax. “Who are you? Where am I? What’s going on? Why am I tied up?”

  “One question at a time, sweetpea. First off, I’m Big George. We’re in the psych ward of Alta Bates Hospital. Do you remember anything that happened before they brought you in here?”

  It took a second for me to remember all of it; not because of the actual memory of it, but because of the lingering emotions from my first empathic episode and the
drugs still in my system. My throat was killing me and I had that horrible taste in my mouth. “Can I…please…have some water?”

  Big George poured some in a plastic cup and bent the straw to my lips. “You ain’t gonna spit it at me, are you?”

  I frowned. “Uh…no. I think I’d rather just swallow it.” As I sipped the water, I calmed down, but I knew the emotions calming me were not mine. I wasn’t sure how I could tell the difference between my own emotions and someone else’s, but this quiet feeling was definitely not mine. I was tied to a bed in the loony bin, for God’s sake. What was there to be calm about?

  “Thatta girl.” Big George put the water at the side of the bed. “How you doin’ now?”

  “Can you unlock me?”

  He shook his head. “Only when a doctor gives the okay. You gotta stay calm, like you are now, and they’ll cut you loose quicker. Okay? No more thrashing about.”

  “How’s Todd?”

  “Would that be the boy whose head you bashed in?”

  Sighing, I nodded. “Is he…is he dead?”

  “Don’t know ‘bout that. You want me to go find out?” Big George had an accent I could not place.

  “Would you? I’d really appreciate it. I…I didn’t mean to…”

  “I’m sure you didn’t.”

  “Thank you for the water.”

  Big George smiled kindly. “You got manners. I’ll give you that much. If I go get the doctor, will you promise to stay calm and not do anything stupid?”

  “I promise. I don’t want any more of whatever it was they shot into me.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll check on that boy and let the doctor know you’re awake. Stay calm, sweetpea. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Big George leaned over and peered hard into my eyes as if he was searching for something. “Be cooperative and you’ll be outta those in no time. Trust me. No one wants to see a young gal like you tied down, okay?”

  I nodded as two tears rolled down my temples. “Where are my foster parents? Do they know I’m here?”

  “The doctors can tell you all that, sweetpea.”