Sentinel Lost (Mind Sweeper Series Book 5) (22 page)

“I’m right here.”

They slammed into each other like a beauty queen version of the
Three Stooges
. And turned to stare at me.

“How’d you get in?” I asked.

Talia looked chagrined. “Misha gave me a key.”

“And how did Misha… Oh, never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

Talia walked around the coffee table, carrying a large cup of coffee and a bag with grease stains on the outside.

“What’s in the bag?” I asked.

“Not sure. Guy named Tony stopped me in the hall and asked if I was coming to see you. Said you needed a pick-me-up.”

Of course he did.

“Why are you here? Is Dalton okay?”

“Joe’s fine,” Sabrina answered. “Misha took him home. He’s still weak, but he promised to take it easy the rest of the day, and he should be fine by tomorrow morning. We came to check on you, Kyle.”

“And you felt the need to tag team me first thing in the morning? You couldn’t just pick up your cells and call?”

Talia cleared her throat. “Jean Luc sensed you were in some sort of emotional distress. He and Misha were going to barge in here, and I convinced them to let me and Sabrina check on you instead.”

Of course they were.

“Thanks for waylaying them. I love them both, but I can’t deal with either of them right now.” I sat up, tucked my feet up on the couch, and wrapped my arms around my knees. I might as well take the training wheels off and ride on two wheels like a big girl. “Griffin and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

Talia and Doc stared at me.

“What?” I barked.

“Who decided to end it?” Sabrina asked.

“Griffin.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

I huffed. “Crappy. How else am I supposed to feel about it?”

Talia handed me the coffee. “Griffin is one of the good guys. You have a right to feel crappy.”

I took a sip and dropped my head back onto the couch. “Aren’t you going to ask me why he broke up with me?”

Doc shook her head. “We know why.”

“I care for Griffin so much.”

Talia set the bag on the end table. “But you’re not over Joe, and Griffin knows it.”

“Does that make me a horrible person?”

“No,” Sabrina answered. “It makes you human.”

“I’m so confused.”

Talia sat on the coffee table across from me. “Let me ask you this. When Griffin ended your relationship, did you fight him on it?”

“No. I mean I don’t want to hurt him. He’s helped me so much these last couple of months.”

“Well that tells me something important.”

I frowned. “Stop being so damn cryptic, Talia, and spell it out for me.”

“Because, Kyle, you’re a fighter. And when someone tells you no, if you really want it bad enough, you fight them. And your first instinct was not to fight.”

My stomach lurched, and I set the coffee on the side table.

Doc sat next to me on the couch. “Ask yourself this. If you hadn’t erased Joe’s memory, would you still be with him?”

“I don’t know!”

“Yes, you do. If you hadn’t erased his memory or run him off because you are such a stubborn pain in the ass, would you still be with him?”

I hesitated even though I knew the answer.

“Kyle?” Doc persisted.

“Yes. But it doesn’t matter.”

“Why?” Talia asked.

I flung my arms up in exasperation and jumped to my feet. “Oh, I don’t know. Because he doesn’t remember me? Because I’m in love with a man I don’t even like anymore.” I paced. “He was overbearing before, but it was okay.”

“He was overbearing because he wanted to protect you. He loved you,” Doc said.

“Loved.
Past tense.” I paced over to the window. “He seemed different in the demon realm, like I was starting to see the old Dalton again. But as soon as we get back here, he reverts back to Mr. No Personality. All he wants is to solve the case and trip on back to his life in Chicago.”

Doc looked me in the eyes. “Does he? Or does he want to solve the case and move on to another case and another group of people he can keep at arm’s length. I was a psychiatrist for a while in the 1900’s, and humans haven’t changed much. As a species, you need companionship. When someone fights it, there is a damn compelling reason why.”

“Then how do I help him?” I swallowed hard. “To get him to live his life again. Because I don’t know what to do next. I’m not a shrink.”

Doc smiled. “No, but you’re an expert in pushing people away. Or at least you used to be. Dig deep and find a way to break down his walls. Do you honestly want him to spend the rest of his life this way?”

“Of course not.”

“What do
you
want, Kyle?” Talia asked.

“I want him to be happy. I don’t want him to live his life for work.” I hesitated and then choked out, “I want him to find someone to love.”

“Maybe that’s you,” Doc said.

“Don’t, Sabrina. My life isn’t a damn supernatural Lifetime movie. He’s going to leave. And I know I can survive when he does. I’ve done it before, and I’m a stronger person now. So I have two missions. Solve the case and knock down Dalton’s walls before the concrete sets and no one can break through. Then we can both move on.”

“That’s your brain talking, not your heart,” Doc responded.

I looked out the window and didn’t say a word. Because even though my heart was indeed protesting, it needed to shut the hell up.

Chapter 28

As fate would have it, or maybe the Fates would have it, I didn’t have long to wallow in my Griffin/Dalton misery. After several hours I finally convinced Talia and Doc to leave and settled in for a restless night. I stumbled out of bed in the morning and was on my second cup of coffee when Father Brown called. Now, I was on my way to meet him at the John Carroll campus. Apparently, I was going to join him on what he called his morning constitutional.

I climbed out of my car and zipped up my jacket to stave off the damp air. It was still early in the year to be comfortable outside first thing in the morning. I found Father Brown walking along Carroll Boulevard. He was dressed in normal priest attire, but he had on florescent blue tennis shoes. I smiled at him, and he wagged his finger at me.

“Not a word about my foot attire, Kyle. I can’t do any serious walking in loafers.”

I nodded and we resumed walking. “Got it, Father. So you’ve found something?”

He smiled broadly. “Yes. I’ve been able to translate some of the tablet. It’s a history of the Key. An instruction manual on how the Key works, so to speak.”

My heart accelerated, and it had nothing to do with the walking. “What does it say, Father?”

“It talks about the Key being absorbed into a person. A guardian—although I don’t think that’s the right word, I’m sure it’s something close to that. I was up half the night trying to figure out the right word.”

I stopped and pulled my phone from my pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking up synonyms for guardian on the Internet. Here we go…sentry, guard, watchman, sentinel.”

“That’s it! Sentinel. The Sentinel is the keeper of the Key. You’ve been chosen by heaven to protect it and use it to fight evil.”

I shook my head. “The angels chose Dalton, and then it got bounced to me by accident. I’m definitely not their choice.”

“How can you be sure?”

“For one thing, they don’t know it’s in me. They’re a little worked up in heaven right now, trying to find the Key.”

“And you are aware of this how?”

“Let’s just say I have my sources. Does the tablet talk about how to control the Key?”

“Not anything specific. It talks about working in harmony with it.”

“Well the Key didn’t get that memo. I’m all for harmony. Hand-holding, singing around the campfire, whatever it takes to stop it from drilling a hole in my head when it wants to share.”

“There’s also some text about the receptacles.”

“The box the Key was held in?”

“Yes. It says the box was fashioned and warded by the angels. Which means when an angel draws near, it will recognize them.”

“What do you mean by recognize?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe it will vibrate when an angel is close by.”

“Maybe I should carry it with me at all times. Angels are wily bas…buggers. If we could get one to talk to us, it might help.”

“What if they realize you have the Key inside you?”

“It’s a risk I have to take, Father. But I’m not convinced they would tell us the truth regardless. They’re big into the not-interfering thing.”

Father gaped at me for a moment. “It’s so strange to hear you talk about angels like they live next door.”

I smirked. “Not next door. My next door neighbor is Mr. Morelli, and he’s pretty crotchety. Too mean to be an angel.”

Father chuckled. “There are more sections I’ve not been able to translate yet. I’ll keep working on it.” He started walking again, and I hurried to catch up with him. “Have you considered telling Joe the truth?” he asked.

“It could hurt him,” I said.

“It could hurt you, if you don’t. What if he’s supposed to be the true Sentinel, Kyle? If the Key is not meant to be in you, I can’t imagine what the long-term ramifications will be.”

“Another risk, Father. There are some demons after the Key, and I can’t let them have it.”

“You talk as if the Key is a separate thing. You
are
the Key.”

“I know, Father. I’m just trying not to dwell on that part.”

* * *

I walked into the office a little while later, not knowing what might be waiting to pounce. A hovering Misha and Jean Luc? An angry FBI agent? Instead, I was greeted by an empty room.

Where was everybody?

After a few seconds, I heard voices down the hall and followed them till I peeked inside Misha’s office. Misha was sitting at his desk, working on his computer. Both Jean Luc and Jason were standing behind him, looking over his shoulder at the screen. All three of them looked up when I cleared my throat.

Jean Luc circled the desk and laid his hands on my shoulders. “Are you okay,
ma petite
?”

“I’ll be fine, Jean Luc.”

He stared at me for a moment as if he could read my thoughts before letting me go.

“So what’s the plan, guys?”

Misha smiled at me. “We’re getting to know Sylvia Reynolds before we pay her a visit.”

“What have you found out so far?”

“That her name is an alias.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“When I track her history, it only goes back a few years. Before then, Sylvia Reynolds didn’t exist.”

“What’s she hiding?”

“Good question,” a voice sounded behind me.

I jumped and spun to face Dalton. He still looked a little pale to me, but at least he was steady on his feet.

Misha grabbed his laptop and stood. “Let’s take this into the main office so we have more space.”

In the main office, Jason and I plopped onto the lime green sofa, and Misha and Jean Luc sat at the table. Dalton walked over to the whiteboard and studied the case notes.

“Before we talk more about Sylvia, I need to fill you in on what Father Brown told me.” I spent the next few minutes getting them up to speed on the newest information.

“So these Sentinels protect the Key?” Dalton asked.

“Yeah.”

Jason tapped his fingers on the table. “And the Key box is some sort of angel radar?”

I nodded. “Good way to think about it, I guess.”

Misha typed away on his keyboard. “Too bad we can’t get an angel to talk to us.”

Dalton picked up a marker from the whiteboard. “Don’t you have some connection to the angels?”

I gulped a bit as I shook my head. Couldn’t exactly tell him the only contact we had was his ghost of a grandmother.

He wrote Sylvia Reynolds on the board with a question mark, then he turned to Misha. “So what have you found out about her?”

“So far, not much. She took over the motel five years ago and keeps a pretty low profile.”

“How do we find out more about her?” I asked. “Do we charge in there and grab her for questioning, or do we send in someone undercover?”

Talia came into the room with a cardboard carrier filled with four large coffees. “Who’s going undercover?”

“Not you or Kyle,” Jean Luc answered. “If the realm demons are still on earth and Sylvia is protecting them, they would recognize you.”

Talia frowned. “They would recognize all of us.”

“So who can we send in then to get a feel of the place before we invade it?” Misha asked.

I sat forward. “I have an idea, but you aren’t going to like it, Mish.”

Dalton folded his arms over his chest. “Another team member I don’t know about?”