Hunted Dreams Read Online Free Page A

tossing a fond grin at Berto and his sister. Reed did not smile.)
    Since then, the well-schooled and -connected Broschi had flourished. Their numbers had expanded slightly over the past two centuries, but since the incidence of their genetic differences were so low, they remained a relatively small group. They existed as a kind of secret society, living together in Families formed through design rather than love and marriage. A network of Families existed, each contributing its talents and finances to the greater whole. Five existed in L.A. County alone.
    “Who are you?” Reed asked.
    “We are the Broschi,” Quina said quietly. “We’re a collection of people drawn together by genes that endow us with some interesting gifts.”
    The Broschi were stronger than the average person. Heartier. They healed much faster. Their metabolisms ran at a much higher level, which meant, for starters, running warmer and eating more. Most of all, they seemed to have some kind of mental ability to feed off the feelings of others.
    “What do you mean ‘feed’?” Reed asked. His face remained impassive, but his fingers drummed on his knee.
    “Exactly what the dictionary says,” Quina drawled. “Consume. Eat. Derive sustenance from. It fuels our raging metabolism in a way regular food never can.”
    Feed. Off other people’s feelings, their personhood. Reed stood up slowly, wiping his hands on his creased, faded jeans, on which Alberto’s blood still dried. “This”—he spread his arms to encompass the house, the topic, all of them—“is fucked up.” Nonetheless, he didn’t walk to the door. “I don’t eat people.”
    Mari laughed. “We’re not cannibals, Reed. We feed off energy, not flesh. No one gets hurt, no one minds, no one even knows . Is it really different than eating solid food, which is just another form of energy? I know this all sounds new and strange, but we’re not evil. We’re just people trying to make it through life, just like everyone else.”
    “Think of it like a psychic pizza,” Berto said, grinning. At a look from Quina, he slouched back into his chair.
    “We’re just people,” Quina said, echoing Maricruz’s words. “Our genes have a few extra quirks, but that’s why we stay together and try to help one another. Better to know who you are than to wonder for the rest of your life, don’t you think? It feels pretty good to finally be with people who understand, who don’t judge, who understand we merely want to live our lives in peace.
    “Please sit down, Reed. And tell us when you first knew you were different.”
    More than an hour later, Alberto and Mari showed Reed around the majestic house in hopes of seducing him into staying. At the end of their earlier conversation, Quina had stood, stretched, and flatly announced that Reed would henceforth stay in one of the house’s unused bedrooms.
    Reed had simply said, “No.”
    Smiling indulgently, Quina told him of course, of course. Naturally, it was all his decision. This was merely an option. Meanwhile, why didn’t Mari and Berto show him around?
    Only mildly worried she would have his truck towed while he did so, Reed finally agreed to a tour.
    The house was huge. It included more than a dozen bedrooms, a gym, an outdoor pool, and several rooms for which Reed had no names. All the rooms were spacious and well lit, albeit with artificial lights. Oddly, every window featured the same view: the springs, whirls, and coils of ivy. They liked their privacy, this family. Or Family.
    As Mari murmured her way through an expansive hallway, telling them all about the piece of messy, abstract art hanging from one of the walls, Reed finally asked, “How many of your kind are there?”
    “Our kind,” Mari corrected. “No one knows precisely, but some of us who are scientists estimate we compose about one-half of one percent of the national population.”
    “Is everyone a, um, member? I don’t get how you organize yourselves or know each