Author's Note: Here's how the story's going to work. Each plot line is going to intertwine and blend together in some way. The first one is from the point of view of Devon Saint John. Enjoy!

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Specialist Inc. By: Lizzie Bundick

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Devon Satin John winced as another giggle escaped from between the bright pink lips of Kimberly Merk. His head ached from pushing the limits of his power, and if Kimberly giggled one more time he would certainly use his powers in the wrong way.

"Devon, one last question before we cut to a commercial," Kimberly tilted her head subtly to the left, a sign Devon knew was leading up to a question that would shock the audience and would be meant to through him off step. "What are your powers, exactly?"

Ah, he thought, the one everyone had been waiting for, "The government classifies my powers as a Manipulator, level ten."

Kimberly let out an exaggerated gasp, Devon mentally rolled his eyes, as she turned to the camera before speaking, "We'll find out exactly what Devon means when we return, on A New York Morning." Devon dropped all his power, leaning warily back into the hideous pink chair, only maintaining enough of it to keep his metal shields up. If he took them down the emotions of the room would flood into him, and over load his mind, sending him into a mental break down. He was tired though and needed a break, unconsciously he reached a hand up and played with the little piece of elk bone carved by Fred and then spelled by Emily to keep his energies up. It was like someone pour hot coffee through his veins, awakening his senses and strengthening his shields. Specialist Inc, he thought fondly, one big, Paranormal family.

"Sorry to spring that one on you," Kimberly commented as she powdered her nose, which probably had been surgically enhanced six or seven times, "But you know, it makes for good ratings."

"It's to be expected, Ms. Merk," Devon said, speaking carefully and making sure not to reach out with the power that hovered behind his voice. One word, one moment when his mind was completely focused on making sure he didn't charm anyone, and he could learn things that ruined lives. He knew that he never spoke, was truth, because no one could resist that word with his power.

"The people do have a right to know exactly what your kind of people can do." He mentally winced at the completely non-politically correct statement, but he was use to it. America wasn't like Italy, where Paranormals were respected for their strength and power, America treated Paranormal's like animals. As soon as an American child showed signs of maybe being Paranormal they were sent away for a horrendous processes known as Testing, the only purpose of which was to find out exactly what the child may be. Devon himself had never been through American Testing, but the stories he'd heard from the others at Specialist Inc. and the emotions they had thrown off terrified him. America, simply put, was still in the dark ages pertaining to Paranormals.

"My people," He said carefully, "Are, for the most part, trying to live simple lives like you."

"You're back on in three, Ms. Merk, Mr. Saint John," Said a woman with a clipboard and large headset. Devon pulled himself up, straightening in his chair before the camera lights turned on and the applause went up.

"Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen," Kimberly said, her perky voice trying to capture the audience like his voice did, "We just found out that Devon was a, what did you call yourself?"

"A Manipulator, level ten," Devon said, adding a reassuring tone to his voice as he extended his power outwards in a gentle wave. Some people could sense his power washing over them, and they would try to fight it, but years of learning how to control his gift made his touch subtle and controlled.

Kimberly leaned closer, resting her chin on one hand, "What exactly does that mean?"

"Most people know the level ratings for Paranormals, a level ten is the highest rating. A Manipulator is a Paranormal with the ability to influence peoples minds and emotions," Devon explained, gently, making sure that the feeling his voice inspired was curiosity instead of fear.

"Doesn't that make you a very dangerous man," Kimberly let out another giggle, "And your looks already make you deadly." Most of the audience laughed a little, but Devon could feel their fear.

"I'm only dangerous to women in the bedroom," He added a little wiggle to his eyebrows and laughed afterwards, "No, Kimberly, I'm completely harmless. The majority of Paranormals are taught how to control their powers and do not use them for harm." He continued with the interview, the pounding behind his eyes intensifying with each passing moment. It took another fifteen minutes before the interview finished, and just as graciously as he came on stage, Devon left, his temples aching, and stomach rolling. Everyone back at the office was going to be mad at his over taxing, but hopefully by the time he got to the office some of the fatigue would be gone and he'd be ready to work.

"Mr. Satin John?" A mousy voice asked tentatively, causing him to look down at whoever had so softly called his name. The woman was short enough that Devon could comfortably rest his chin on the top of her head, which was covered a long brown wavy hair, and her eyes, framed behind gold oval glasses, were a soft almost powered blue. There was nothing remarkable about her face and he couldn't quite place where he had seen her before, but Devon knew that he had.

"Yes, Miss, can I help you?" He tried to sound polite, but it came out as tired, and he watched the careful play of emotions over the woman's face, noticing her hesitation and slight fear.

"I was just I could have a minute of your time," She said, mustering up some courage. Devon studied her, intensifying his gaze to see if she would back down, while reaching out one little tendril of power to test what this woman might want. When he lightly dipped into her aura, she gasped and swatted at the exact place where his power had touched her. What we had sensed with the single touch was such emotional turmoil that he was naturally moved to help her.

"What do you do here, Miss?" He asked first, always careful about whom he talked with.

"I'm a go-fer, Mr. Saint John, what does it matter?" Her eyes turned begging, "Please, I need your help." It was that which did him in. He had never been able to resist a person in need, which is why Donna assigned his cases because if someone didn't review them he would take them all. He had thought, for a second, she was wearing a hidden camera and this was test, to see how helpful Specialist Inc was, which was why he had asked about her job, perfectly able to tell if she was lying. Anna Stephon hadn't lied.

"We'll talk in my dressing room," He decided, taking her arm and leading her back to the room he'd been placed in. When he lead her inside in instantly sensed her natural reaction to the room, it had been like his own. They had given him nothing more than a closet with a coat rack with a folding chair and card table. The wallpaper was a fading yellow and the tile floor was cracked and broken. There was nothing about this room that would make it appealing, unless you were a cockroach, but there was nothing Devon could do about it, complaining would just get him kicked off and Specialist Inc needed this time slot. He stayed by the door, watching the woman as she shifted uncomfortably.

"What's your name?" He asked, trying to sooth her nerves with his power.

"Anna," She said quickly, "Anna Stephon."

"Ms. Stephon, you said you needed my help. Why?" Devon crossed his arms over his chest and leaning against the door casually.

"I don't need you help, really, actually it's my sister," She reached up and twirled a piece of hair around her finger, an action that was obviously a nervous one. Devon reached out a slight tendril of power, soothing her ragged nerves. She took a deep breath before continuing, "My sister is possessed by a demon, I've taken her to numerous clinics, but no one's been able to help her. I thought maybe, you and the people you work with might be able to help her."

"How long has she been under the demonic influence?" Devon asked, studying the sturdy Anna Stephon. She certainly wasn't lying about her sister, he could feel the pain in her and the desperation she had that he would help her.

"Years," She said softly, "Since my mom and dad died."

"And you're sure this is an actual demonic possession and not a fake?"

Instantly anger bowled over in her, "Of course it's a real possession, what kind of fool do you take me for? I've hand hundreds of doctors look her over and they all say the same thing, demonic possession."

"Have you had a Paranormal look her over?"

Anna's anger fell away, "I haven't been able to afford one, until now." She looked up quickly, meeting his eyes intensely, "I've got enough to afford your company, Mr. Saint John, and there's a safety fund I into." But it's not a safety fund; Devon thought as her emotions rolled through the small connection, it's something important to her. She was ready to give up a lot of things for her sister; he had a feeling that this was something that he should check out.

"Where is your sister right now?"

"Home, where my brother watches her."

"How old is your brother?" A truly close-knit family, he thought, noting the slight smile playing around Anna's lips.

"He's in college, but he takes night classes so someone can keep an eye on Cassidy, my sister."

"Can you leave work? Right now and take me to your sister?" This was the true test, if she wouldn't give up work for her sister than Devon would hand it over to someone else at Specialist Inc, probably Niko.

"Yes," Hope jumped into Anna's eyes, "I can leave right now."

"Would you object to driving? If I am going to be of any use to your sister I'll need to rest."

"No, no, it's alright, just," She looked him over quickly, and he smiled at the slight flush that rose in her cheeks, "You might be uncomfortable in my car." Devon just shrugged, and got up from the door, letting Anna pass him. He had brought nothing with him to the interview and just left the key hanging on the little hook by the door. Devon had kept the connection up between him and Anna, which allowed him to find here, even though she had dashed off in some direction. She looked startled when she turned around and almost ran into him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to rush, but," She laughed a little nervously.

"You just want to get to your sister," He said sympathetically.

She smiled brightly at him, "Yeah. Follow me." She dashed off again, almost hurrying, and casting glances over her shoulder to make sure he was following. He should call the office, tell them he was going to see about taking a case, but then one of them would insist they went with and Anna, who seemed to desperately need his help, would probably be refused help. Specialist Inc often had to turn away many of those who asked for their help simply because they didn't have the money, or that the government facilities that existed could help. Devon hated turning away anyone, but taking on every case was bad for business and would over tax the sensitive, yet powerful investigators. When they left the studio the summer heat washed over both of them, taking a little getting use to, but Devon just loosened his tie and took off the jacket and pulled on sunglasses. Anna kept up her quick pace until they reached her car, a car that looked to be twenty some years old and small enough that he could lift it with one hand, and he did not have any super strength.

"Watch your head," Anna warned as Devon opened the passenger side door and folded himself up to sit in the even smaller space inside the car. Anna glanced his way as she started the car, "We could take your car if you're uncomfortable."

"I'll be fine, Ms. Stephon," He reassured her. She kept quiet as they drove out of the studio, but he could feel her nerves and gently sent a reassuring beam out to her. Instantly her hand, which had been clutching the wheel in the white knuckled grip, relaxed and she reached out and turned on the radio. Light classical music filled the car and lulled him into a trance state. He normally would have been more careful about how far he went into the trance, but he was running on empty from the interview and the music was just so soft and soothing that he lost himself in the replenishing and relaxing state of the trance. Devon slipped away from himself in a trance state, his powers seeping outwards to touch everything around him, but the elk bone reached out with the spell Emily had put on it and kept him safely contained within his own body, but it didn't tune down his sensitivity any. He could feel Anna's emotions, and even see them. Flashes of yellow hope, turbulent patches of gray worry, and gentle swirls of pink attraction flowed over his eyes. He found the attraction amusing and reached out to that particular train of thought in her mind.

"He certainly is taller than I expected," Anna's voice echoed in his head as his vision filled with different shades of pink and red, "And he' too. I thought with the prices for his company that he'd be a money grubbing bastard," she gave a mental chuckle which Devon watched pass through the red in ripples of blue, "Well, that'll teach you to judge a person by their price."

"It certainly will," Devon responded without thinking. Suddenly his eyes were blinded by a flash of pure white astonishment, and then deep slow red of embarrassment spread across his eyes. It was then her realized what he had done and quickly regained his control and pushed himself back into his mind. "I'm sorry." He said as he jerked up from the seat, which caused him to knock his head on the ceiling. Anna shrugged indifferently, but he could see the subtle red flush in her cheeks. She pretended to be indifferent about his invasion into her mind and emotions, but Devon knew she'd be careful from now on, distant from him now. The trust he needed to help her sister would take time to rebuild, time depending on her sister's condition they may not have.

"Do you know how demonic possession works?" He asked, jumping to a topic that was the most comfortable for them to deal with.

"The doctor that's taking care of my sister says it's like a cold, enough medicine and time it'll go away," She answered, shrugging again.

I shook my head, "Actually no, it's not like a cold. Demons are incorporeal beings that feed on emotions, always painful emotions and when they choose someone they keep that person trapped in that emotion."

"Oh, that's not what Dr. Vester said at all," There was an odd mix of anger and fear in Anna's statement and Devon was careful about what he said next.

"Demonic possession is often treated incorrectly by non-Paranormal doctors. It's a good thing you decided to get help from a Paranormal company. What has this Dr. Vester been using to treat your sister?"

"Psychotropic drugs, anti-depressants, and a lot of uppers." Devon shook his head, Dr. Vester wasn't doing anything to help her sister, if anything he was making it worse.

"How many years has your sister been undergoing this treatment?" he asked as Anna pulled into the driveway of a small single story row house.

"Only about ten, we haven't been able to afford Dr. Vester's treatments for very long," Anna said as she got out of the car, "Come on, my sister's inside." Devon got out of the car and followed Anna up the front steps.

"Jean, I'm home!" She called, and glanced over her shoulder at him, "And I've brought over Mr. Saint John." Footsteps came first from the basement and the door directly across from the front door opened and a boy of about nineteen ran through it. He was tall, gangly and a little ruffled looking, but what Devon sensed right away was his power.

"An Illusionist," Devon said before he thought about it, "Your brother is an Illusionist."

"How'd you guess?" The boy asked, standing in front of the door, his stance one of defense and his emotions those of grudging respect.

"You spend enough time around Paranormal's you can guess," Devon shrugged, then held out his right hand for the boy to shake, "Devon Saint John, Manipulator and investigator for Specialist Incorporated."

"Jean Stephon, Illusionist and college student." Jean held out his left hand and when Devon took it he flipped it over to check for the bar code and identification number all American Paranormals got when they went through Testing, "You could have asked," Jean huffed.

"Many Paranormals don't like to share," Devon explained, "Many are Illegals like you." An Illegal was a Paranormal who had not gone through Testing and did not have a bar code or number. The punishment for being found to be a Paranormal without either identification was death. Even Devon had been branded when he'd applied for citizenship, but he didn't have to go through Testing.

"I had to take care of Cassidy," Jean explained, "Testing would leave no one able to take care for her."

"Cassidy is your sister?" Devon asked, turning back to Anna.

"Yes, she's in the basement," Anna said, gesturing towards the Jean guarded doorway.

"You keep her in the basement?" Devon knew his voice edged towards dangerous, but the idea that a girl, even a possessed one was hidden away was abhorrent to him.

"Dr. Vester said it would be best for her," Anna looked down at her feet, "Jean and I did fix it up."

"She should be moved, immediately to some place with lots of sun light," Devon said, knowing he had to have a chat with this Dr. Vester, but first he had to check on Cassidy. "May I see her now?" Brother and sister exchanged a look, but Devon felt the unspoken words between them. They silently asked each other if they were ready for this, if Cassidy was ready. Their trust in Dr. Vester was on shaky ground, they wondered if he was going to con them also. He quickly reassured them with a little nudge of power.

"Jean, let him through," Anna said, and Jean stared him down for a few seconds before stepping aside. Devon descended the stairs in a comfortable, but not splendid living area. There was a small sitting area, and a few throw rugs had been tossed on the concrete floor, and the windows had been covered with thick black cloths. Devon walked over to the nearest one and ripped the cloth off, only to find the window had been boarded up and the cloth was only to keep the few shafts of light that still showed through.

"Did Dr. Vester suggest this too?" He asked, looking back up the stairs to where Anna and Jean stood, watching him.

"Yeah," Jean said, glaring at his sister. If Devon read the scene correctly, Jean had warned his sister about Dr. Vester, but she had ignored him. He would deal with healing the family after he had healed the sister, and from what he sensed the sister needed healing immediately. He said nothing more to Anna and Jean, just walked towards the back of the room where he sensed the hissing anger of the demon. In the dark it was hard to spot the small girl curled in the corner, but Devon did find her, and he did not like what he found. She looked to be seventeen, but she was too thin, and her long hair was matted and tangled around her face, which was too pale. Her eyes, beautiful blue eyes were wild and when they landed on him, they went wide with fear.

"Hello Cassidy," Devon said, kneeling down to be level with the girl, "My name is Devon Saint John."

"I know who you are," She hissed, her voice soft and musical, but Devon knew it was the demon that had taken her voice, as it had taken her body and mind.

"Then you know I will stop you," And Devon lashed out with a violently strong beam of pure mental energy, testing the demon. It lashed out against him with enough force to send him flying across the room and slam him into the wall. Devon quickly countered, gathering the pain and changing it into a shield against the demon's attack. Then he took the concern and fear from Jean and Anna and turned it into a more subtle attack. While the demon was focused on hurting him, Devon slipped into Cassidy's mind and started speaking to her.

"Cassidy, my name is Devon, and I'm going to help you, but I need you to help me first," He said slowly, quietly so the demon hopefully wouldn't notice his intrusion.

"How?" A soft, small mental voice asked. Cassidy was still thinking, still able to understand him. If she hadn't been able to there would have been no hope for her. The demon would have damaged her mind too much for recovery. A good sign, a good sign, Devon chanted as he continued to focus on Cassidy.

"I need you to stop the demon for a while, fight back until I can get you somewhere safe. I'm going to tell you a chant you must say as loudly as possible, to help you. Can you do that, sweet heart?"

"Where's my sister? Where's Jean?" She cried, mentally reaching for him and the safety he offered, but Devon stepped back.

"Not yet, sweet heart, but soon. Chant with me, as first then I'm going to pull away and you'll have to continue on your own. Alright sweet heart?" Devon felt the mental nod and sighed, "I am my own, I am my own. You cannot control what you cannot own. I am my own, I am my own. You can not control what you can not own." Devon felt Cassidy's voice join in with his and pushing more power into Cassidy's voice he slowly began to pull back and let Cassidy fight the demon on her own. When he came back into his body Cassidy lay curled in the corner, whimpering and clutching at her head.

"What did you do to her?" Jean asked, as Devon picked up Cassidy, "She's in pain!"

"The demon is in pain, not Cassidy. She's helping me," He explained as he climbed the stairs, "Take her from me, and get her to the car."

"What, why?" Anna rushed over and grabbed his arm.

"I have a safer, better place where she can recover. We need to get her there before the demon beats Cassidy back into submission."

"We can take her away from here, Dr. Vester." Anna started.

"Has Dr. Vester done anything to help Cassidy before now?" Devon interrupted, "If it makes you feel better, Ms. Stephon, you can call Dr. Vester when we get to my house and Cassidy is safe."

"Alright," Anna agreed, "Let's go then."

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