The Mind Keepers (The Mind Readers) (15 page)

“Almost there,” he finally
muttered.

The streets became seedier, and we
all grew more wary. S.P.I. wasn’t here, but there was a new threat. Fortunately,
we could handle the riffraff hanging out on the street corners, as they didn’t
have chips in their heads to block their nefarious thoughts.

“You sure this is the right
place?” my aunt asked. The doubt in her voice was obvious. She didn’t trust
Maddox. Frankly, she wasn’t the only one who wondered what the hell he was up
to.

As if sensing my unease, Maddox
met my gaze, those eyes daring me to question him. Confused by my emotions, I turned
away and looked out the window. It was quiet, children still in school, parents
still working. Only a few people sat on stoops; the rain was too thick and
drove most people inside.
 

“Yeah, it’s the right place,”
Maddox finally replied. “Although I can’t guarantee he’s still here.”

Lewis parked the car alongside the
curb. Maddox was the first to step out, followed by Cameron. When I finally
managed to make it to the sidewalk, Maddox was waiting impatiently. He might
have said he would wait forever for me to give my heart and trust him fully,
but I could see the flicker of annoyance in his eyes. Maddox was used to
getting what he wanted when he wanted it, and my resistance irked him. I hid my
grin. If anything, the waiting would do him good.
 

Money,
I heard the thought coming from the guy lurking near the alley.
He was wondering if that handgun he had tucked in the pocket of his jeans would
be enough to dissuade us from fighting back when he robbed our little group.

I wasn’t the only one to hear
his threatening thoughts.

Lewis sighed and started toward
the alley. “I’ll keep our friend occupied.”

Cameron went after him; she wasn’t
about to leave her boyfriend unprotected. “I’ll help.”
 

As we moved down the sidewalk
toward a set of rickety brick duplexes, I couldn’t help but notice how slowly
and purposefully Maddox walked. He was injured and in pain, favoring his left
foot. Was the right fractured, or just sprained? And that arm was still in a
sling. A torn ligament, Cameron had muttered to me earlier. But he had refused
to go to a hospital, claiming we didn’t have time, and he didn’t want to draw
attention to the extent of his injuries. When Cameron had suggested we heal
him, he’d looked appalled. Always the tough soldier, he wanted no one’s help. I
fell into step beside him. In case he stumbled, I’d be there.

“I know what you’re thinking,”
he said softly. “And I’m fine.”

I flushed and looked toward the
skyscrapers in the distance, hazy through the rain. We’d barely spoken since the
rescue, both of us too deep in thought and emotions we didn’t know how to
handle. But I knew when this was all over Maddox wasn’t simply going to let our
relationship rest. He’d want answers, and I wasn’t sure what I would say. Could
we possibly have a normal life?

“Which place is it?” Aunt
Lyndsey asked.

“This one.” He nodded toward a
red brick building. A sheet hung across the window and the trash can out front
was overflowing with beer cans and pizza boxes. Lovely. Apparently, Maddox’s
friend was a big winner.

I slid him a glance. “Seriously?”

 
He shrugged, using the railing as support as
he started up the steps. “Man’s a genius. I promise whatever cockroaches we
have to fight off will be worth it.”

“Who is this guy?” Aunt Lyndsey
asked, following Maddox.

I glanced around the
neighborhood. I didn’t trust this situation; it was too easy. Surely S.P.I. had
agents ready to jump out of the trashcans or leap with parachutes from the
rooftops. We’d managed to drive from Virginia to Ohio without incident; it was
like a new world record or something.

“He’s a friend. I’ve known him
for years.”

I moved up the cracked cement
steps as Maddox pounded on the door. A dog in the house next door started
barking. A flicker of curtains, curious thoughts floating from the neighbors. We
were definitely being watched.

Who are they? He never gets visitors.

Never received visitors? My
wariness grew. Who the hell was this guy? I turned my attention to Maddox a
glance. And what the hell was he getting us involved in?

The T-shirt he wore was slightly
too tight, showing off his muscled chest, not that I was complaining. But he
was injured and exhausted, and anyone—even the children who would be swarming
this street in an hour or so—would be able to tell that Maddox wouldn’t hold up
very long in a fight.

When Aunt Lyndsey had questioned
him about the supposed information that would change everything, he had refused
to give details. Yeah, he was stubborn, but I knew the real reason: Maddox was
smart. We might not trust him, but he obviously didn’t trust us either, and he
wasn’t about to show all his cards at once. He needed a safety net.

“Might not be there,” Maddox
muttered after a few moments of silence.

“He’s there,” my aunt said. “I
can hear his thoughts.”

I stiffened, surprised. I heard
no one but the neighbors.

“He’s good.” She glanced at Maddox.
“You teach him to hide his thoughts?”

Maddox rubbed the back of his
neck, a sure sign he was uncomfortable. “Maybe.”

Confused, I concentrated but
could sense nothing. That was the downside of my powers, they seemed to come
and go as they pleased. My aunt reached out and jiggled the door handle. It was
locked. Without waiting, she slammed her foot against the panel. It didn’t take
much effort to break open the weathered door. The wood cracked, popping into
large splinters and leaving behind a gaping hole. Maddox reached through and
unlocked the door.
 

“Henry?”

The neighbor’s curtain fell back
into place.
Hell, I don’t even want to
know what’s going on.

Thank God for self-centered people
not wanting to get involved. Maddox shoved open the door, and we moved into a
small foyer crowded with stacks of boxes, yellowed with age and nicotine. He
was a chain smoker. The scent of cigarettes permeated the air, heavy and
suffocating. I resisted the urge to cough and instead reached out with my mind,
searching for the guy.

Who are they?
A male thought whispered toward us.

Surprised, I shifted on my feet,
glancing toward what appeared to be a kitchen stacked with dirty dishes. Gross.
This guy was a big-time hoarder. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few rats scurried
by. Heck, they were probably lounging on the couch, watching TV.

“He’s there,” my aunt whispered,
nodding toward the kitchen.

She started that way, and I had
every intention of following when I felt the slightest pull toward the left. I
paused, confused. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Almost as if…as
if my body wanted me to turn that way. “Wait.”

Maddox glanced back at me. “Are
you okay?”

“The living room.”

My aunt turned. “What is it?”

“I don’t know.”

I took in the stained couch, the
tattered chair and mounds of boxes blocking half of the room from view.
“Something—”

“Duck!” Aunt Lyndsey shoved me
aside with her energy. I fell into the wall, stumbling to the ground just as a man
surged from behind a pile of boxes, a baseball bat in hand.

“Shit.” Maddox threw himself
forward, hitting the man. They fell to the ground with a thud that shook the
entire house. Plaster crumbled from the ceiling, landing in a pile of white
powder over my jeans and T-shirt.

 
I jumped to my feet. “Maddox!”
 

The idiot would get himself
killed. He had no idea if the guy had a knife or gun. Frantic and more than
annoyed, I raced into the living room. Maddox was atop the guy, holding him
pinned helplessly to the ground. I didn’t think—I didn’t have time. Using my
energy I pushed the both of them apart. Maddox hit the wall, while the other
guy slid across the floor toward the stained couch.

Aunt Lyndsey glanced at me, brow
raised, smirk lifting the corners of her lips. “Wow, impressive.”

Using the wall for support,
Maddox managed to regain his feet. “Henry, you idiot.”

Henry? This was Maddox’s friend?
I glanced warily at the huge guy sprawled across the wooden floorboards. His
hair was so matted it looked like he was growing dreadlocks, and his scruffy
beard made him look twenty years older. But his eyes, those brown eyes showed
his youth…and his anger.
 

“Who the hell are you?” Aunt
Lyndsey demanded.

“Who are
you
?” He somehow managed to stumble to his huge feet, towering over
us like some sort of mountain man from the 1800s. Judging by the amount of beer
bottles and his bloodshot eyes, it was safe to assume he was at least
half-drunk. “You’re in my damn house!”

I could feel my aunt’s energy
flare. She was more than annoyed.

Maddox must have sensed it, too.
He started toward his friend, placing himself between us. “Henry, calm down.”

“I thought you were dead,” he
huffed, settling his massive paws on the hips of his grungy jeans. No weapons
that I could see, other than his size. But it was obvious he didn’t know how to
fight or use his weight to his advantage.

“Yeah, well, I was almost killed.”

The man glanced at us. “Who the
hell are they?”

“They’re friends,” Maddox said,
adjusting his injured arm in his sling. I didn’t miss the brief flash of pain
that tightened his features and hoped he hadn’t injured it further.
 

“And why the hell are you here?”

“You know why.” Maddox actually
settled on the couch. I knew he must have been hurting to sit on that stained piece
of trash. “We’re here for the intelligence report.”

The man didn’t say a word, just
stood there staring daggers at Maddox. If looks could kill…

“Please tell me you still have the
files,” Maddox said with a sigh.

“I do.”

Maddox stood. “Good.”

“What is this information?” my
aunt demanded.

“You’ll see.”

Annoyed with Maddox’s
half-answers I started to demand the truth when I felt the slightest pressure
to my mind. I slid my aunt a glance. But I knew it wasn’t coming from her,
which meant…crap. My gaze jerked toward Henry. He was a freaking mind reader.

You feel that?
Aunt Lyndsey sent me the mental message.

Yep, mind reader.
 

My shock turned into anger. I
should have realized Henry was a mind reader when we’d thought we heard him in
the kitchen. He had the same powers of persuasion that Aunt Lyndsey and I had. Why
hadn’t Maddox told us? “He’s a freaking mind reader?”

“I am,” Henry said as he headed behind
a stack of boxes, disappearing from view. “Maddox helped me escape years ago.”

And I was back to being shocked.
I looked at Maddox, this guy I supposedly knew. But I was finding I understood
very little about him after all. What else had Maddox kept from me? Apparently,
a lot.

“But you’re more than just mind
readers,” Henry muttered from behind his stack of boxes. “You two carry the
source.”

Startled, I glanced at my aunt.
Her blue eyes narrowed. How the hell did Henry know that? And what, exactly,
had Maddox led us into?

“You can sense those who carry
the source?” she asked, her voice deceptively mild.

“He can sense the level of power
each person contains. As you can imagine, it made him very desirable to S.P.I.”
Maddox turned toward his friend. “Now, where is the information?”

Henry sighed but moved across
the room, pausing near a bookshelf. I wasn’t exactly surprised when he opened a
book only to find it had been hollowed out. Seriously? The oldest and most clichéd
trick? And Maddox had said the guy was a genius.

He took out a flash drive and
headed toward his computer. “You sure you want to do this?”

Maddox nudged aside a box of
what appeared to be magazines and paused near his friend. “Yes.”

With another long, drawn-out
sigh, he settled in the chair and booted up the computer. “How much do you want
to show them?”

“All of it.”

“What, exactly, have you
gathered?” my aunt asked as she moved closer.

Henry slipped in the drive, and
we waited as the file came up…flashes and flashes of numbers and letters.

“What’s this?” I demanded.

“Code.” He typed a few letters
and suddenly the code changed, morphing into paragraph after paragraph of
information…names and dates.

“Jamie Laurent,” my aunt read
over Henry’s shoulder. “Worked for S.P.I. until December of 2010. After
Christmas he began to waver in loyalty. When S.P.I. realized he was thinking of
leaving, they took him in custody and performed operations on his brain. He
later died.”

Startled, I moved closer.

“Elizabeth Carroll. Did not take
to operations. Died January 1, 2011.”

They scrolled through the file. There
were more. So many stories that it would take hours to read them all. Not only
stories, but pictures of the people. So much information, I wasn’t sure what to
look at first.

“You’ve been keeping track of
everyone all this time?” I said.

Maddox glanced over his
shoulder, his gaze meeting mine. All this time, he’d been working against
S.P.I. All this time, and he’d never told me.
 

“The question is, what do we do
with it?” Henry asked.

Disconcerted, I spun around and
headed across the foyer, and into the disgusting kitchen. He hadn’t told me.
All this time I hadn’t trusted him, but I’d had good reason. What was his
reason to trust this Henry person over me? I paused near the window, looking
out onto garbage cans that littered the small space between this house and the
next. All this time I’d wasted, hating him. All this time thinking he was
someone he wasn’t.