“Next time I change my identity, I’ll let you pick the name.”
His arm tightened around my waist and he dropped his voice. “Someday you won’t have to be anyone but yourself.”
Raf was convinced that eventually the world would settle down. I hoped like crazy he was right. I wanted to believe that one day the world would forget about Kira Moore, face of the jackers, and we wouldn’t have to hide anymore.
“It’ll take time,” Raf said, “but even my parents will change their minds about you. Someday they’ll see you the way I do.”
“How’s that?” I pushed back the dark curls that had fallen in his eyes.
“A really cute girl who has really awful taste in music.”
I smiled as his soft Portuguese accent drew out the word awful. “Maybe someday you’ll decide to listen to music that’s worthwhile.”
He tucked my hand against his chest, trapping it as he wrapped both arms around me. Then he whispered in my ear. “Link with me, Kira.”
My name on his lips, whispered close like that, melted me. I linked gently into his mind, and his lips found mine. Linking thoughts while kissing was the closest we would ever come to the synced hearts and minds, completely shared and open, that mindreaders felt when they touched. At least Raf’s mind was open. I tried to be honest, here in his embrace, his lips pressed to mine. I let my mind roam, floating along with the eddies and curls of his feelings. The scent of his mind hinted at fresh linen that had been warmed by the sunshine of his thoughts. There was no trace of worry or concern.
This is how we should be. Always, thought Raf. No hiding.
I won’t hide anything from you. But even that wasn’t true, as I kept my darker thoughts quarantined in my own mind: thoughts about the risk he took in seeing me; about how I should have stopped seeing him after we moved; how I shouldn’t make Raf learn to lie for me, like my mom had lied for years for my dad. Yet when Raf kissed me like this, with his heart wide open, it was impossible for me to stay away.
If the world knew this part of you, he thought, they would never be afraid.
I pulled out of Raf’s mind, guilt getting the better part of me. He made a small sound of disappointment as soon as my mind’s presence disappeared from his. When we did have a chance to be alone, he couldn’t get enough of me linking in and sharing thoughts with him.
“More kissing, less talking,” he whispered against my lips, knowing I had pulled back so we could talk out loud.
I tucked my head down and played with the rough Blue Devils patch on his shirt. “We’re lucky your parents didn’t see me. It was risky for you to come.” Risky for you to be with me. But I couldn’t bring myself to say that out loud. He held me loosely now, giving up for the moment on kissing. Being patient. The way he always was with me, for reasons I didn’t understand, even having linked thoughts and gently explored his mind. I knew that he loved me. I just didn’t understand why.
“I’m getting better at focusing my thoughts,” Raf said. “And humming. All things considered, I thought it went rather well.” Raf was proud of his deception, which I guess he should be, given how hard it was for mindreaders to lie, Raf in particular.
It still made me cringe. “You should have let them go and tried to scrit me before they got here. I probably could have left in time.”
“Maybe. But if you hadn’t gotten the scrit, it would have been worse. Besides, if I hadn’t come along, I wouldn’t have had a chance to kiss you by the smelly dumpster.”
“Yeah, well you’re right about that,” I said. “I would at least have picked somewhere more romantic.”
“Like where?” Raf snuggled me closer.
“Like…” Kissing or even hand-holding was such an intimate sharing of thoughts and feelings that mindreaders usually did their touching in private, out of range so that other minds wouldn’t be privy to the comingling of their thoughts. “Maybe we could take a drive to the forest preserve?”
“Oh yes. I’m sure your father would let me borrow the hydro car for a spin.”
“Or maybe we could take an autocab.”
“Now you’re thinking,” he said. “A long autopath, circling through Chicago New Metro. I’d take you up north of the city. I think they have beaches on Lake Michigan up there.”
“Beaches are mesh.”
“Speaking of romantic things with your extremely mesh boyfriend…” Raf released me for a moment to dig something out of his pants leg pocket. He held up a transparent film with red lines scrawled across it. It took me a moment to realize the lines were folded into two Celtic knots that curled around each other into the shape of a heart.
“A tattoo?”
He frowned. “Is it not romantic enough?” He held the film up to the sky, peering at it. “It only lasts a few months, you know, in case you decide to trade up for a boyfriend who’s got more game in the romance department.”
I took his cheeks in my hands. “You are the most romantic guy on the planet, Raf. There are ballads being sung right now about your romantic powers.”
He smiled under my palms. “You know it’s true.”
“So,” I said, taking the tattoo by the edge of the film. “Where should I put it?”
He dug in his pocket again and came out with another film. “Actually, I have a matching set.” He held up my left wrist, placed one of the films on the skin right below it, and looked up at me. “Ready?”
I nodded, and Raf blew a long, hot breath to activate it, then clamped down to press it into my skin. It burned as the acid from the synth-ink etched into my flesh, but the pressure made it easier to bear. I did the same for him, trying to make sure I gripped his wrist hard enough for the tattoo to take.
He grinned at me while we waited the thirty seconds for the transfer to complete, then we peeled them off. I sucked in a breath when the fresh air met the acid and the stinging grew sharper. Raf lifted my hand to gently kiss my wrist, then leaned in close to kiss me on the lips. I linked into his mind again, for a proper thank you.
A solid marble presence was suspended there. A jacker was in Raf’s head!
Before I could react, Raf slumped into me, all two hundred pounds of soccer physique weighing me down as he fell. A growling scream surged up through me, but was muffled by Raf’s shirt in my face. I plunged deeper into his mind, shoving out the jacker that was there. Raf was alive, but he was knocked out. I struggled to keep him upright, but Raf’s dead weight pulled me down to the ground with him.
“He should’a listened to you, little Kira,” rumbled a voice nearby. I flung out toward the jacker, reaching for his mind as a tug of awareness made me think I know that voice.
I jacked deep into the firm gel of the jacker’s head and his name instantly popped up. Molloy. Ruthless jacker Clan leader that I had betrayed and left behind in an Arizona prison camp. He was supposed to be locked up with FBI Agent Kestrel, but instead he was here, at the Dutch Apple, knocking out Raf.
I struggled with Raf’s body while I wrestled with Molloy in his mind. Heavy footsteps scraped the rough pavement next to me. I had to keep Molloy from executing whatever plans he had for me until I could get Raf safely away. I tunneled deeper in Molloy’s mind, searching for the places where I could inhibit his heart rate, make him stumble, anything, but he was too strong for me. He shoved me around, parrying every thrust I made.
I linked a threat to him, hoping to slow him down. I swear, if you hurt him, I’ll…
Something struck the side of my face, hard, flinging any thoughts right out of my head. I didn’t feel the pain for a full half second, then a blinding throb ripped across my face. My breath stopped with the force of it. I slumped on top of Raf and tried to get my bearings.
“I thought you might be some trouble, little Kira,” Molloy said, his giant face a gray blur near mine. “Which is why I brought this.”
An electric shock arced across my back and my entire body froze into a statue that clutched at Raf’s shirt. With a slithering itch, the shock rushed my b
rain, which sizzled and sparked like there was an electrical storm raging in my head. Then it shorted out and blackness descended on me, even though my eyes were wide open. The last thing I saw was Raf’s limp hand on the ground. In spite of all my efforts to hide, in spite of all my attempts to be someone else, it had come to this.
The people I loved would pay the price for everything I had done.
I awoke to the feel of a finger brushing my cheek. It left a trail of pain in its wake, even though the touch was feather soft. I flinched, then I realized someone was touching me. Some praver that liked to touch girls when they were unconscious. I lashed out and my mind plunged deep into his. My entire body seized up, and my mind reflexively jerked away, like a hand dropping a red-hot plate. Only then did my brain register the sensations gripping my body. Icy pain. Bottomless grief. A deep dread, like all the brightness had been sucked out of the world.
I drew in a shaky breath and tried to process what was happening, but the feelings faded, like a strange momentary hallucination.
“I didn’t tell you to beat her up,” said a quiet male voice close to me. I struggled to open my eyes and found the source of the voice inspecting my face. He was young, only a year or two older than me, and his face had a soft, warm quality that made me want to like him, even though I couldn’t think of one rational reason why I would like a praver who touched me in my sleep.
“She put up a fight.” Molloy’s enormous bulk blocked the light above us. I was laid out on a lumpy couch with a line of white columns on either side. The columns were connected by metal racks that stretched up to form a narrow canyon. My blurred vision could barely make out a highway of lights floating far above us. The place smelled of old plastic and machine grease. The boy leaned close, perched on his chair, elbows on his knees, fingers laced.
“Your methods are barbaric.” His words were for Molloy, but his eyes roamed my face, like I was a rare specimen Molloy had captured and he was checking me for damage. I tried to move my lips, but my face was still numb from Molloy’s shock device.
The boy saw me struggle and bent closer, speaking so softly it was almost a whisper. “I’m sorry to bring you here this way. How are you feeling?”
His almost transparent blue eyes were intensely curious, as though he thought my feelings held the answer to the universe’s greatest mystery. I thought he might try to jack in to get the answer to his question, but there wasn’t any pressure on my mind. What had happened when I tried to jack him before? My mind groped for an answer, but it was like a bad dream where all you remember is that you don’t want to remember it. I wondered if he was a jacker at all.
The boy nodded, as if I had answered his question, which I hadn’t.
My lips unstuck enough that I could lick them, dry and coated with a fine grit. Then I remembered: “Raf!” It came out as a croak and I tried to sit up, reaching out to search Molloy’s mind for what he had done with Raf. Molloy easily swatted me away. I had no mental strength whatsoever. The boy steadied me as I swayed on the couch, but I shrank from his touch.
“We’re not going to hurt you, keeper.”
Right. Which was why I was sprawled on his couch with an electric hangover. And why was he calling me keeper?
“Wha…” My tongue was a useless lump in my mouth. I swallowed and tried again. “What did you do with Raf?”
The boy frowned and turned to Molloy, who tilted his head down the skeletal row of shelving. “She means the reader.”
I craned my head so that I could see Raf, but I was stiff and achy, and my vision was so blurred I could barely see past the end of the couch.
“Why did you bring the pet?” the boy asked Molloy. “We don’t need him.”
“Insurance.” Molloy folded his beefy arms, his red hair wild and flowing down to his shoulders. “I’ll not be trusting her again, Julian, and you won’t either, not if you know what’s good for you. Believe me on this.”
I rubbed my eyes and tried to think. They hadn’t killed me yet, and it sounded like Raf was alive too. Insurance. The word sent a shiver through me. I didn’t know what this boy Julian wanted or what Molloy’s plans were, but I was sure none of it would be good. I squinted, trying to see more in the dim light. We were in some kind of warehouse or factory. The closest rack held a mattress and crumpled blankets, like someone had slept there but not made the bed. My couch and the chair Julian sat in comprised a sort of living room. A few more makeshift bed racks stretched down the row, then rectangular shapes the size of doors dangled from a crossbeam between the columns. At the end the row opened into a larger area where several fuzzy figures moved about. Molloy said Raf was down there. That was probably also the way out.
Julian studied me again, stroking the scruff on his cheek with his long fingers. His dark hair was mussed, like he had used his fingers for a comb, and he was either deeply tanned or possibly Latino.
“Trust is something earned, is it not, keeper?” His voice rumbled smooth, almost hypnotic. Or maybe it was the electrical storm still fuzzing my head.
“Why do you keep calling me that? And what do you want with us?”
“I’m calling you what you are, Kira.” His smile glowed in the low light. “I’ve admired you for a while. Your performance with the changelings was very impressive. And letting the world know of our little secret…” He templed his fingers and tapped his lips with them, as if choosing his words carefully, then he leaned forward and dropped his voice. “Well, I can’t thank you enough for that.”
I moved away from him, pressing my back into the musty fabric of the couch. Why was he grateful for me outing jackers? Most jackers seemed to think I had ruined their lives with that piece of honesty.
He leaned back, giving me space again. “But what are you, precisely? Mr. Molloy tells me you are a keeper, which I can see for myself is true. Which is very fortunate for us.” He pursed his lips. “Perhaps not so much for you.”
I didn’t know what this hypnotic jacker wanted with me, but I needed to find Raf and get us out of here. Considering I was barely able to sit up without feeling woozy, that meant going along with whatever his game was… for the moment. Until I figured a way out of this mess.
“What is a keeper?” I asked. “And why does it matter to you what I am?”
“You are the one who started everything, and yet you don’t seem to understand.” He eyed my name badge, which still said Elizabeth. “Maybe you’re confused about who you are.”
I sat up straighter. “I know who I am just fine. Thanks for your concern.”
He sat back in his chair, amusement playing on his face. “A keeper is a jacker who can keep their thoughts. Their mind barrier is virtually impenetrable, at least to normal jackers. And in your case, even to me. Which is very interesting.” Again he tapped his fingers to his lips. “As much as I’d love to know why that is, we don’t have time for that. But it does make you just what we need.”
“And what is that?” I hoped to cut to the chase. If this Julian person wanted something from me, maybe I could bargain our way out of this. Or at least get Raf out of the equation and then go from there.
“I have a job that you might be interested in.”
“I’m not a jackworker.”
“No, of course not,” Julian said. “I wouldn’t expect someone like you to be jacking for something as simple as money. I knew you would be interested in much more than that, keeper, which is why I brought you here.”
“You brought me here?” I flicked a look to Molloy.
“Well, I’ll admit that it was Mr. Molloy’s idea,” said Julian. “Although I was entirely for it, once he confirmed the rumor about your keeper abilities. Finding you was a bit of a problem, with you rooking in the suburbs, but there aren’t many father-daughter mindguard teams in Chicago New Metro. Getting our jackworker into Mr. Trullite’s compound to conduct a little surveillance, to make sure it was you, was the easy part.”
My eyes went wide. The gardener.
“To bring you h
ere,” Julian continued, “I needed someone who knew how vital you were to our plans. Someone who could ensure you would consider what we had to say.” Julian glanced at Molloy. “I’m sorry Mr. Molloy took my instructions a little too literally.”
Molloy grinned like he enjoyed the process of bringing me in. “That driver was quite the helpful lad with information on your whereabouts.” A chill ran up my back. Molloy had jacked the driver, and he already had Raf. That meant Molloy knew everything: where my family lived, where my dad worked. I had no doubt that Molloy would kill them all if I didn’t do what he—or this Julian person—wanted.
My hands bunched the loose fabric of the couch next to me. “What is this jackwork you want me to do?” I asked Julian.
But it was Molloy that answered. “It seems that Agent Kestrel has a particular interest in you, lassie. And we aim to feed you to him.”
My head snapped back to Molloy. “What?”
He smirked, obviously enjoying my shock. When jacker Agent Kestrel had dropped off the grid, I was furious that he had gotten away with everything: sending innocent jackers to the camp, experimenting on changelings as young as twelve. He had slunk underground, and worse, he had taken the camp prisoners with him, including the changelings I had been forced to leave behind. The only good part was that he had Molloy too. Only here he stood, threatening to hand me over. That Kestrel would want me back was no surprise: he wanted my DNA for his research, plus I’d put three darts in him and sent him into hiding. That Molloy would be the one to hand me over was a possibility I hadn’t even considered.
It would have been better if Molloy had simply killed me in the parking lot.
“Why?” I asked Julian, my voice weak. “Why would you turn anyone over to Kestrel?” An icy trickle made my stomach seize up.
Julian stabbed Molloy with an unappreciative look. “I’d never turn another jacker over to Kestrel.” His voice gentled when he turned back to me. “And I wouldn’t ask anything of you, keeper, that I wasn’t willing to do myself. I’ll be going with you. Together, maybe we can stop that monster and free the jackers he’s holding prisoner in that torture chamber of his.”
Closed Hearts (Book Two of the Mindjack Trilogy) Page 3