Slave to Sensation - PSY Changeling 1 By Nalini Singh

A PART FROM THE BOOK
"Sascha Duncan couldn’t read a single line of the report flickering across the screen of her
handheld organizer. A haze of fear clouded her vision, insulating her from the cold efficiency of
her mother’s office. Even the sound of Nikita wrapping up a call barely penetrated her numbed
mind.
She was terrified.
This morning, she’d woken to find herself curled up in bed, whimpering. Normal Psy did not
whimper, did not show any emotion, did not feel. But Sascha had known since childhood that
she wasn’t normal. She’d successfully hidden her flaw for twenty-six years but now things were
going wrong. Very, very wrong.
Her mind was deteriorating at such an accelerating rate that she’d begun experiencing physical
side effects—muscle spasms, tremors, an abnormal heart rhythm, and those ragged tears after
dreams she never recalled. It would soon become impossible to conceal her fractured psyche.
The result of exposure would be incarceration at the Center. Of course no one called it a prison.
Termed a “rehabilitation facility,” it provided a brutally efficient way for the Psy to cull the weak
from the herd.




After they were through with her, if she was lucky she’d end up a drooling mess with no mind to
speak of. If she wasn’t so fortunate, she’d retain enough of her thinking processes to become a
drone in the vast business networks of the Psy, a robot with just enough neurons functioning to
file the mail or sweep the floors.
The feel of her hand tightening on the organizer jolted her back to reality. If there was one place
she couldn’t break down, it was here, sitting across from her mother. Nikita Duncan might be her
blood but she was also a member of the Psy Council. Sascha wasn’t sure that if it came down to
it, Nikita wouldn’t sacrifice her daughter to keep her place on the most powerful body in the
world.
With grim determination, she began to reinforce the psychic shields that protected the secret
corridors of her mind. It was the one thing she excelled at and by the time her mother finished
her call, Sascha exhibited as much emotion as a sculpture carved from arctic ice.
“We have a meeting with Lucas Hunter in ten minutes. Are you ready?” Nikita’s almond-shaped
eyes held nothing but cool interest."


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