However, of all the psychics in this series, I think Imprint has got to be the most bad ass. Others will have their moments of bad-assery, but he seriously takes the cake. He works out on a regular basis, keeps a strict diet, and has actually beaten most of his teammates in combat--Bash and Dash included.
Envy is almost the exact opposite of my token psychic, with the exceptions being that she is kind and always willing to help others. Envy keeps active by training with Gag at the gym on the reservation, going on morning runs, and teaching yoga. She's always available to help Whisper come up with fun ideas for their next gathering, and she's one of the firsts to volunteer for anything.
Dream relies on common sense and facts, while Love is driven by her emotions. Her code name was actually given to her by Imprint, who accidentally wandered into her dreams using his ability. He realized that she was more of a visionary than she let show, and urged her to make her dreams a reality. No one knows what Imprint saw in Dream's mind except for Shade.
The Council of Elders had divided into two groups; Mona and Monty’s father was huddled together with a few other older men, carrying on a conversation in hushed voices. The second group, situated between them and the first, consisted of Sal, a woman, and three men. The woman had her left arm linked with that of one of the other council members, and she was speaking to the former prince with a stern tone that contradicted her gleeful smile.
A school was eventually put in place, and the Wolfes tried to enroll their daughters so that they could engage socially with others their age instead of traveling with their parents. They received word after two weeks that their daughters had gotten into fights with the other students--especially Summer, who was prone to biting. This forced their mother and father to attempt to homeschool the twins when they were not hunting or going on scouting runs.
She was the younger sister to Lorenzo and Matteo, the mother of Sam and Ricky, the only aunt to the Alagona youths. Her thick hair framed her heart-shaped face, only a few white strands visible among the raven waves. Her once fern-green eyes were blanketed by a cloudy fog; when she used her telepathic abilities, her irises turned a deep indigo. The shift in eye color did not aid with the councilperson's sight, but it did grant her visions of the future. She was the psychic before Alexa was recruited, the prophetess the elders turned to when making major decisions.
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He knew the boundaries of their colony. He had seen the map of their borders and outposts plenty enough to know the truth. Their claimed territory was beyond that of the original city of Savannah; their reach went as far south as Fort McAllister and as north as the wildlife refuge that shared their namesake, but technically sat on the other side of the Georgia-South Carolina border. Everything between those two points and the ocean was under their protection, and they had outposts at Lanier, Richmond Hill, and Limehouse. All the land south of them was deemed “no man’s land,” overrun by scavengers and too dangerous to travel. Florida--alas, what was not underwater--was completely abandoned.
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Her soft voice had trailed off, prompting her subordinate to sneak a peek in her direction. The princess’s confident mask had cracked; her blue eyes had frozen over, staring off at nothing in particular as she wrung her hands. Alice caught Scarlett’s eyes and lowered hers to the ground below, swallowing the lump in her throat so as to continue.
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A hand appeared before her; she took it without hesitation, gripping their forearm as they did hers. A coughing fit overtook her, the sound of her own ailment easing her senses back. She used the inside of her shirt to wipe away her tears, clearing her vision just enough to allow her to study the one who came to her aid.
She let out another scream when she saw him. She tried to wrestle her arm from his grasp to no avail.
The hooded figure stood nearly a foot taller, and he grinned in a frightening manner as he held her in place with minimal effort.
“Finally found you,” he bragged. His breath was a mixture of tobacco and spearmint. His sage eyes held her in place.
She felt as if he could peer into her very soul.
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She could not have been more than ten. She was curled up at the base of an old worn-down fountain, clad in a filthy over-sized t-shirt. It was so torn along the bottom that he would have mistaken it for a rag. Men’s shorts swallowed her up from the waist down. Her feet were bare, dirty, and covered in scratches and cuts. The wounds seemed to travel up the child’s legs.
She’s been running.
The young human continued to watch the spirit, peering at him through a mess of umber locks. She shook fervently as a gust of fall passed through the heart of the park, forcing the child to hug herself more tightly. In her shifting, he noticed a large black spot through the rips in her top, an uneven splattering against her side.
His expression hardened at the sight. Damn humans… Who the hell would hurt a little kid?
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