The Forbidden Trilogy (8 page)

"You want me to lie?"

"Oh, Tommy, I don't know. Of course I don't want you to
lie. But there's more going on here than I can tell you right now. Do you trust
me?"

"Yes, I sure do!"

"Then please don't tell anyone, okay? And remember, no
matter what happens after I leave, I love you and have done everything I can to
protect you."

He nodded and snuggled into the bed with me.

I relished those few moments of innocence before I got up to
prepare to leave.

By that evening, both my eyes were nearly swollen shut. Gar
made the arrangements and scheduled a pickup for me, but I had one more thing
to do before we left.

I found Mrs. Beaumont in the kitchen. "Do you have a
computer I can borrow? I just want to email my friends that I'm coming
home."

"Of course, dear. We're sad to see you go, but so happy
that you're no longer in danger."

They had bought the cover story, and now that my assignment
was complete, my "father" no longer needed me ensconced in safety.

She led me to her study and logged me into her computer.
"There you go. Take your time, I'll be in the living room if you need any
help."

"Thank you." Guilt prodded me to talk more than I should
have. "Mrs. Beaumont, if something were to happen to your husband, would
you and Tommy be okay?"

Her face probably couldn't register surprise, what with the
Botox, but a small tear formed in the corner of her eye. "Don't you worry
about us, Sam. I know more than you think, and I'll always make sure Tommy is
taken care of."

She left the room and left me with more questions than
answers. Did she know about her husband's extracurricular activities?

I slipped the memory stick into the computer and opened up
an email as Mrs. Beaumont. It only took a second to find the FBI email address
for tips. I attached the pictures, wrote a brief message exposing Mr. Beaumont,
and hit Send. Right or wrong, I had to be sure this bastard paid.

Gar had stood behind me the whole time, probably to make
sure I didn't expose Rent-A-Kid in any way. When I looked at him, he gave a
curt nod. I think he approved of my choice.

He checked his watch. "We have to go now."

Before we left the room, I pulled Gar around to face me.
"Thank you for defending me, and for letting me do this."

His lips twitched just the slightest. "I have a
daughter. You did the right thing."

He turned and walked away before I could say anything else.
I tried to imagine Gar with a family, but the picture didn't fit—like that
"which of these doesn't belong" game. But everyone had to come from
somewhere. No one was created in a lab.

Gar had left the door open for me, and I went back to the
guest room to get my bags and make sure I hadn't forgotten anything.

Time to say goodbye to Tommy.

He clung to me and cried, begging me not to leave.

In a move that broke more rules than I could count, I
slipped a picture into his pocket of the two of us, from the fair we'd gone to.
I'd managed to get pictures of us together in one of those booths while Gar
used the bathroom. Don't leave any evidence of your presence. Avoid cameras and
photos. Remove surveillance before you leave. Erase anything with your image on
it. They'd drilled those rules into me since I was a kid. But I gave Tommy
something no one in the outside world had: a tangible reminder that I'd been
there.

"I don't want you to go. Can't you stay? Please? I
promise I'll be good!" He looked at me with those big sad eyes.

I fought back the tears. "No matter what, remember that
I love you. If you ever get scared, just close your eyes and meet me in that
special room we made together in our minds. Remember?"

"Yes, Sam, I remember." His voice cracked on my
name. Tears slid down his soft, baby cheeks.

"I'll always be able to hear you, and you'll know I'm
there, okay?" I hoped. Having memorized his mental frequency, I planned to
check up on him, if I could reach that far. Maybe once out on my own, I could
find a way to help him. Distance reading was no simple task, but I would get
better. I had to.

I kissed him on the cheek and plopped into the limo,
slinging my book bag onto the seat next to me. My guard sat in the front with
the driver.

A phone rang. I answered it, knowing who it was ahead of
time.

"You broke protocol." Higgins didn't sound happy.

"Yes, I had to," I replied without remorse.

"You'd better hope this doesn't get out of our control,
Sam. Otherwise, your retirement plans might be affected."

The threat lingered like the monster of long ago, hiding in
my closet at night, waiting for me to fall asleep. Whatever. I didn't regret my
choices.

"Everything will be fine," I said. And I believed
it.

When Drake regained some semblance of consciousness, intense
pain stripped every nerve ending raw. His mind felt crushed into his skull, not
just from the hit to the head—his powers gave him the ability to heal faster
than most—but from the mind assault when someone used Drake's powers against
him. How was that even possible?

He didn't open his eyes. First, he wanted to get a sense of
his environment. Wheels clanked against a linoleum floor and he felt himself
move forward. Voices floated around him like clouds. The world around him
drifted through his awareness like bubbles—so fragile and immaterial.

He'd been drugged. He remembered the dart to his arm, but he
suspected they'd given him something more since taking him.

Who did this? Where was he?

Questions swirled through his mind, and he couldn't steady
his thoughts enough to make sense of anything.

He had clothes on, not just his bathing suit, so someone had
dressed him. The air smelled of chemicals and sickness, like a hospital.

Darkness threatened to close in on him again. Panic filled
his veins and sent a small shot of adrenaline through him.

Another mind connected with his—someone with similar powers,
someone who could help. He reached out, pushing his mind with the little
strength he had left.

He squinted through pain, and locked eyes with a
dark-haired, pale-faced beauty who looked as if she'd been in a bar fight. One
blue eye shined bright with intelligence, while the other was swollen nearly
shut. Her pink lips curved into a frown, and she placed a fist on the swell of
her hips, which accented her petite frame.

A protective instinct flared and Drake wanted to defend her
against whoever had given her that black eye, but he couldn't be the knight
when he needed saving himself.

He reached out to her mind.
'Help me.'

She held his fate in her mind. Before he collapsed back into
oblivion he willed her to help, willed her to remember him and find a way to
free him.

As he sank into nothing, her blue eyes, fair face and dark
hair haunted him, and he was left with one thought: she's mine.

No matter how many times I'd been drugged, I still woke up
in a slight panic. My body maintained no sense of how long it had been. My
subconscious mind had been shut out—definitely the worst part of any
assignment.

Wait....

Mary lay in the bed next to mine. That sucked worse.

She sneered at me from behind her blond hair. "Well,
look who finally woke up. Took you long enough. Had some trouble, huh? Is
Higgins's pet turning rebel?"

"What do you want, Mary?" Though sick of her
games, ignoring her would only inspire her to greater taunts.

"Nothing. Just waiting on the good doctor, like
you."

I slipped into her mind, like being stuck in the poisonous
trap of a viper.
'Thinks she's so great... not that great... not even as
pretty as everyone thinks... tits too small... and look at that black eye...
looks like she finally screwed up... hope she gets what's coming to her...
she's just a goody two-shoes... little priss.'

Well, nothing new there. Did she ever have any other kind of
thought?

I raised myself on the bed. The world spun just a little
through my swollen eyes. Fake flowers in artificially bright colors stood on
the table by the window, a futile attempt to cheer up the dreary grey walls and
fluorescently lit room.

The tiny Dr. Sato walked into the room. "Ah, Sam, Mary,
you both wake. Good," she said with a soft voice.

Why is she nervous?

Her pronounced Japanese accent, stronger than usual, gave
away her unease. "How you feeling?"

I stretched my arms and moved my neck around to work out the
kinks. The inside of my mouth reeked. "Fine, just a bit of a
headache." Probably brought on by my roommate. Well, and the black eye.

"And you, Mary?" she asked.

"I feel wonderful." Mary crossed her long legs
seductively and purred. Her slinky silver gown showed off more than it covered.
Who the hell was she trying to impress in here? Her para-power to seduce
couldn't claim any new victims in the absence of heterosexual men.

Dr. Sato took my blood pressure, checked my temperature, and
examined my eyes and cheek. "You bruised. Bone hurts, but you be better
soon. Just no jumping."

Again with the nervousness.

I slipped into her mind but met only gibberish, having never
had a chance to learn her particular dialect. It unnerved me—nothing clear, as
if I'd lost my hearing or eyesight. Normally, the images that filled her mind
were of her homeland or the clinic, benign and useless to me.

Today I felt terror coming off her, and saw a flash of a man
with a gold tooth leaning over an unconscious girl.

"You go now. Headmaster Higgins expects you. You get
dizzy or have troubles with eye, come back. And you take it easy until eye sees
better. And no jumping too. Okay?"

I nodded and bit back a comment about how hard it would be
to refrain from jumping everywhere.

My book bag sat on the chair by the fake flowers. I hopped
off the bed—
oops, does that count as a jump?
—grabbed it, and walked
through the long corridors to the exit while processing Dr. Sato's dark
thoughts. Confronting Higgins always made my stomach hurt, but getting away
from Mary made it worth it.

Few people walked the corridors of the clinic. Where were
all the normal personnel?

I stopped at the front desk to sign out.
Something's out
of place.

A movement caught the corner of my eye.

A boy, about my age, tall and muscular, lay unconscious on a
stretcher. I only saw a glimpse through the electric doors to the surgery. His
messy blonde hair had flecks of red in it. Dried blood. A gash ran over his
forehead. As the doors closed, his eyes flashed open and held mine for one long
moment.

'Help me.'

The mental message sent me staggering back in its ferocity.
An urgent compulsion to respond overwhelmed me, a need to do as he'd asked.

Then the boy lost consciousness. My mind cleared, and
whatever had grabbed hold of me disappeared.

Missy, an attractive, plump woman who worked the front desk,
frowned. "Are you okay? Should I call the doctor?"

"No, I'm fine. I just... head's still hurting, you
know."

She did know. Her eyes gleamed with sympathy. I'd always
liked her. She baked us cookies from time to time, and kept her blond hair in a
messy bun held together with random pencils. I'd tried it once on my hair, but
couldn't make it stay put.

"Missy, who was that boy they were wheeling in? He
looked hurt, but I don't recognize him."

Not many kids lived on the huge estate. We all knew each
other, at least by sight. The memory of his persuasive presence in my mind had
me unnerved in ways I couldn't explain. My body betrayed the anxiety with
sweaty palms and a racing heart.

Missy avoided my eyes, something a lot of people did
unintentionally, thinking it would keep me from reading their minds.

'She shouldn't have seen that... hope she doesn't say
anything... I could get in trouble... don't want her to get in trouble
either... sweet girl.'

"Oh, don't worry about him, love. Now you'd better be
going. Headmaster Higgins doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Of course. Have a good day, Missy."

Her face relaxed. "You too, Sam."

I opened the door to leave the clinic, but stopped when I
noticed Dr. Sato in the hall talking with a new doctor I didn't recognize. Her
face squinted in anger and her arms flailed about as she made her point. He
looked even angrier and spoke to her in a low, mean voice, and took a step
forward, his hand held up in a way that made me flinch in fear for her.

I slipped into his mind and—something shoved me out and
slammed the door! My head pounded like it had been pummeled with an anvil. That
had never happened before. The doctor looked at me and his rage melted into a
smile, a gleam of gold tooth shining from his mouth. My insides turned to
Jell-O as his aura seduced me into complacency, but then the urgent plea for
help from Mystery Boy pushed out the unwelcome intrusion. The doctor had some
kind of para-power, and he was immune to mine.

Shock flooded my system. And fear. No one had ever been
immune to my mind-reading. A trail of dread crawled up my spine and wound
itself around my heart.

I fled to the comfort of the outdoors.

The sun felt ten shades brighter than normal outside the
double glass doors. I pulled my sunglasses out of my backpack and walked the
winding trails through campus, my body still shaking from both unusual
encounters. The warmth calmed me, but not enough to erase the effects of that
strange boy and his compelling mind, not to mention the creepy doctor.

***

Near the main offices, a group of kids ran by in gym
uniforms. One petite girl fell out of line to throw herself into a hug.