I grabbed Raf’s arm and edged us out from the squeeze between the woman and her crew.
“No need to hurry,” said a rough voice. One of the men had crept up on us.
“I’ve never met a keeper before, Norma, have you?” Henry said. “They’re what you call ‘rare’ I think. Like one of those mage types, right? How much do you think we can get for one of those?”
“A fair amount, I’d say,” she said. “And the boy might fetch a nice ransom, if he’s a trustfunder like she says. Because I’m sure a keeper would never lie.”
That got a laugh all around.
“Look, we don’t want any trouble…” I said.
“It’s no trouble at all,” said the man with a battered face.
Raf’s fists were clenched at his side, the taser tucked inside. Kira, if they take me, you run and find your dad.
I’m not leaving you here!
Suddenly a small hand reached out to grab mine. I jerked my hand back and turned to see one of the two boys who had disappeared before. The other had hold of Raf, tugging him away from the jackers menacing us. I quickly brushed the soft Jell-O of their minds. They were barely changelings and I could easily jack them, but their thoughts showed they wanted to help us find a place to hide. Raf was giving them a suspicious look, but he couldn’t read their minds like I could. Strangely, Norma and her crew were letting the changelings pull us away. I shuffled backward, unwilling to turn my back on the crew.
The burly man jutted his chin out. “Another time, keeper.” Raf and I and the changeling boys turned and ran full tilt down the sidewalk, hugging the abandoned shops. We didn’t stop until we turned down another alleyway teeming with trash.
“Thank you.” My voice was raspy from the run and the leftover tension. How on earth were these two able to extricate us from Norma and her crew? “We need a place to stay, just for an hour.”
The boys edged closer, and they reminded me of changelings from the jacker camp. Hair disheveled, jeans tattered at the knees and well-worn, like they had one pair and they’d been wearing them for a long time. They must have been thrown out by their parents. They would only be in Jackertown if they had nowhere else to go.
The younger one, all of twelve years old, crept closer. “We can’t read you,” he said softly. “Are you really a keeper?” There was awe in his voice. I was glad he hadn’t figured out I was Kira Moore, face of the outted jackers.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m a keeper, and my friend and I are new here. And thanks. For back there.” I fished in my apron pocket for the bit of tips I had inadvertently taken from the diner. “It’s all I have, but I can pay you more when my dad gets here.”
The older one, who was maybe fourteen, said, “We don’t need your money,” but the younger one dashed his small hand out to scoop the change from my hand. I added on a smile.
The older one frowned, but said, “Come on. We know someone who will let you stay.”
Raf and I followed the boys out the far end of the alley. The next street was mostly brownstones that hadn’t been rehabbed to bring them up to range codes, all short and squat and packed too close together. The boys scurried up a set of stairs to a door with curls of peeling paint. They didn’t knock. It was opened by an elderly woman who ushered them inside. Raf and I quickly followed without saying a word.
The woman was shorter than me, her slender frame wrapped in a flowered housecoat and layered with a knit cardigan that looked handmade. She folded her bony arms, feet planted wide, and appraised us for a moment. “You look like you need a place to stay. The street isn’t any place to be at night, not in Jackertown.” She nodded to Raf. “Especially not for little lost lambs.” He looked put out by her description.
“Thanks for taking us in,” I said, before Raf could ruffle our guardian angel. “We just need a place to stay for an hour or so.”
She swept a gnarled hand out, inviting us into a wallpapered sitting room off the entryway. It had lace hanging from the windows, the lamp shades, and even the shelves. A look from her sent the boys scurrying off through a doorway at the end of the room. In spite of Raf’s amazing performance before, his face was pale and it twisted my insides. I didn’t care that our grandma-savior was standing right there. I buried my face in his chest and gently linked into his mind.
Raf, I’m so sorry. His arms enveloped me, warm and strong, and I quivered against him.
It’s okay, he thought. Everything’s going to be fine. Your dad will be here soon. Raf’s thoughts were tinged with the sour taste of worry, mostly about how he couldn’t protect me on the street. I loved him for that thought, but the idea of him worrying about protecting me was upside down.
I’m so sorry, I linked the thought again. You shouldn’t be wrapped up in my mess.
Raf lifted my hand from where I clung to his jersey and leaned down to kiss my wrist, the two tangled pieces of the heart tattoo disappearing under his lips. I’m just mad my one chance to have you alone was interrupted. He kissed my forehead, lightly lingering there. Wherever you are, that’s where I belong.
Raf was completely wrong. Where we were was absolutely no place for him.
Twitters sounded from the other side of the room. I didn’t detect any other mindjackers in his mind, so our thoughts were private, but we were giving quite a show with the touching, which wasn’t very mesh. The grandma’s smile wrinkled up her face, and the boys spied on us from the doorway. She waved them off and they disappeared in a burst of giggles.
I disengaged from Raf, pulling out of his mind before he could tell me any more intimate thoughts that might make my cheeks burn even more than they were already.
“I’m glad you found your way here,” the woman said, waving at two overstuffed chairs stamped with flowers. “Make yourselves at home.”
“Thank you,” I said, but we stayed standing. “We won’t impose on you long. I called my dad. He’s going to come get us soon.”
“Your dad, Kira?” she said. “He must be worried with you here in the city.”
My jaw dropped. “You… know me.” The hairs rose up on the back of my neck.
She swept a finger along her cheek, mimicking the synth-tattoo I had along mine. “It’s not much of a disguise, dear.”
A nervous laugh bubbled up. “Well, I didn’t plan to come here, where people might recognize me.”
She nodded. “Yet I’m sure you have quite the stories to tell. Why don’t you have a seat while we wait?”
Raf and I slowly sat in the chairs, which were stiff like they were rarely used and smelled faintly of lilacs. The changelings peeked in again from the kitchen doorway.
I inclined my head toward them. “Do you take care of all the orphans here?”
She sent a quick sideways look to the boys and they slipped back through the swinging door. “I look out for all kinds of people who have lost their way.” She perched on a chair opposite us, her light body barely making a dent in it. “You must tell me, dear: how did you break out of that desert camp, just you and no one else?”
Her question made me squirm. “It’s complicated.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” she said. “You must know that the changelings all talk about you. I’m sure the truth is more amazing than the stories they’ve made up.”
I didn’t know what stories she was talking about, and I wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but it was straying into things I didn’t like talking about. Especially with Raf nearby and unable to keep things a secret with his reader mind. As I was working up a good answer, there was a click at the front door.
I frowned. There was no way my dad could have gotten here so quickly, even if he had managed to find us by tracking my phone. I was on my feet and reaching out when Julian came around the corner.
“There you are,” he said, looking at me. Then he turned to the woman. “Thank you so much for keeping her for us, Myrtle.”
I gaped at him and whirled on Myrtle, trying to jack into her mind, but she pushed me flat back into min
e with such an intense pressure that it made me drop to my knees. Raf went limp in the chair next to me.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” said Julian. “Myrtle is the strongest jacker I’ve ever met. And I’ve met quite a few.”
Just as I was sure my skull would crack, the pressure from Myrtle cut off.
Her slippered feet shuffled back, and I blinked away the stars that were zipping in front of my eyes. An older jacker, mid-twenties, stood to Julian’s side, calm but ready. I vaguely recognized him from the mages’ lair. His hair looked like he cut it himself in the mirror, and his jeans were not quite ragged enough for holes. His stringy fingers tapped a rhythm on his folded arms, but his face was impassive, as if he was awaiting Julian’s orders to either strangle me or escort me out the door, and he didn’t much care which one it was.
Julian’s lips pressed into a straight line. I gripped the upholstered chair and struggled to my feet. Raf had slid from his seat and lay like a doll slumped on the ground. I quickly linked into his mind, but he was only passed out. I held still, in case any sudden moves would bring Myrtle down on my head again.
“Hinckley,” Julian said. “Could you take care of the keeper’s friend?”
My back stiffened as Hinckley strode over to Raf, but he simply hooked his thin but muscular arms under Raf’s and hoisted him back into the chair. He propped Raf so he wouldn’t fall out again, even as his head lolled.
“She has a phone,” Myrtle said. “Said her father was coming to get her.” My heart climbed up in my throat.
“You called your father to come get you?” Julian’s voice was incredulous, as if that was the stupidest thing I could possibly have done. At the moment, I was thinking he was right. My dad would be walking into a trap.
Julian curled a fist and eyed the door. “Well, that will only make this mess even bigger. I suppose that means we can’t stay here.” He pressed his fist into the wing of Raf’s chair. “I might need your assistance, Myrtle.”
“I should say so.”
Raf jumped up from the chair, startling me so badly I nearly fell back into mine. But he wasn’t awake at all. The overwhelming presence of Myrtle filled his mind. Hinckley jogged to the door to open it before Myrtle puppet-walked Raf through. I hurried close behind Raf, resisting the urge to grab his hand. Julian and Hinckley followed so close I could hear Julian breathing through his teeth.
More jackers filled the street since we’d gone inside. Gathered in bunches on the steps of their brownstones, they looked like the jacker gangs in the camp, minus the arm bands. Both of Hinckley’s hands fluttered, playing an invisible piano in the air and turning away the stares of the street as his gaze swept forward and back. How could he control so many jackers at once? A long time ago, I had managed to knock out an entire warehouse of jackers, one after another, but that was only because I caught them off guard. Controlling a host of readers at once was reasonable for any jacker, but turning the heads of this many hyper-alert jackers?
Even people forward of Hinckley’s head-turning trick retreated up their steps and inside as we neared. Julian walked with his chin up, not obviously controlling anyone. Were they fleeing before Hinckley could reach them? Or was it Julian’s presence that made them retreat to the safety of their houses?
We moved as a pack past an alleyway, as well as another shop papered with jacker faces stamped “MISSING.” After rounding the corner, it became clear we were going back to the mages’ headquarters. I couldn’t think of anything else to do but go with them. Raf and I wouldn’t last on the streets, and I couldn’t take any risks with Myrtle. She was so strong, she might accidentally kill Raf without even thinking about it.
We passed the street where we had left Norma and her gang, but there was no sign of them. It was nearly dark, the bluish plasma of the streetlights replacing the reddish glow of the sunset. When we reached the crumbling brick entrance of the mages’ headquarters, a dark-skinned boy a couple of years older than Julian knelt in the doorway, welding a metal patch to the frame. His mini laser welder threw sparks on the sidewalk and singed the air with a sharp smell. Shiny black goggles cupped his eyes.
“Sasha.” Julian raised his voice to be heard over the sparking of the laser. “How is the door coming along?”
Sasha flicked off the laser and set it down. He stood, lifting the goggles and perching them on his forehead, trapping his curly black hair underneath.
Instead of answering Julian, he said, “So, you found her.” He turned his dark brown eyes to me. They were almost black, like a bottomless pit that couldn’t reflect light. “That’s too bad. I was hoping you might have gotten lost.”
“Sasha.” Julian’s voice was filled with patience. “The door?”
Sasha tugged off his welding gloves. “It will hold for now,” he said. “I can rig up a passring sensor and get a new door frame in the morning. Assuming Kira doesn’t decide to break down our door again.” He said my name like it was something bitter, then stepped back to let us pass, tracking me with a cold stare. Julian ushered us into the dim light inside, trading the damp summer air for the stale machine-grease smell of the converted factory. Sasha scooped up his welder and clanged the metal door shut, followed by a click that signaled we weren’t going anywhere.
Raf walked with stiff legs to the kitchen table and carefully sat in a rickety chair, staring vacantly at the carpeted floor. Myrtle took up a station next to him. My heart was ripping into pieces at the blank look on his face, so I turned my back to the table. Hinckley sat on the edge of the broken-down couch, where Ava was roughly bundled in a thick blanket. Sasha knelt by her, smoothing her hair and sending me a look that sent a shiver through me.
“Ava’s not going to be happy with you when she wakes up,” Julian said. He leaned against the kitchen counter, retrieving an apple from a basket and taking a noisy bite. I didn’t like Julian before, but the loathing I had for him was reaching new heights.
“Let Raf go.” I didn’t care that desperation crumpled my voice. “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt him.”
“Hurt him?” Julian stopped mid-chew. “I don’t think you quite understand the situation you’re in here.” He gestured with the apple. “This is Jackertown. There’re quite a few jackers who don’t realize how important you are—to us, to jackers everywhere—and who would be happy to see you dead for your trouble.”
I had no idea what Julian meant about my importance, but I understood quite well that plenty of jackers wanted me dead. Sasha seemed like he would be happy to do the honors.
“I have some influence here,” continued Julian. Hinckley gave a snort from his perch on the couch. “Which is why I was able to get you to Myrtle’s safe house. And back again. But him,” Julian said and pointed at Raf, “he’s as good as dead out there. That, or a ruthless crew that doesn’t have much in the Morals Department will use him for a pawn. I had thought you would understand that and not go dragging a reader through the streets.”
Julian’s patronizing tone lit a fire in me. Maybe he had gotten us off the street, but we were hardly safe. “You’re the one that dragged us here in the first place!”
“I had no intention of bringing him here!” Julian pushed away from the counter and threw the apple in a small trash can, knocking it over. “I thought…” He seemed at a loss for words for the first time since I’d woken up on the couch. He swiped a hand across his mouth and glared at my fists curled up by my side. “I don’t understand what you see in that mindreader, but for whatever reason, you seem to care about him. I never intended for him to be here, but now that he is, it’s better that he stay safely asleep.”
With those words, Raf’s body caved facedown onto the dingy table. Myrtle took a seat next to him, and Molloy drifted from the back to land by Raf’s side, his meaty arms folded as he loomed above him. My fingernails were digging trenches in my palms.
Julian crossed his arms again and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Sasha, the keeper will sleep on the
couch tonight. Can you take Ava to her bunk and keep an eye on her?” Sasha gave me one last glare, then gathered the blanket tighter around Ava and easily scooped her off the couch, carrying her toward the cluster of bunks.
Julian lingered a look after the two of them. “As much as you seem to be protective of your mindreading friend,” he said, “my sister is currently in the hands of that monster Kestrel, so you can perhaps understand my urgency to not wait around while issuing invitations. I’d rather not have to chase you all over Jackertown either. I can understand that you don’t want to go near Kestrel again, but I thought… I thought we would have more common cause than we apparently do.”
He paused to wipe his hands on his neatly pressed pants. “In the morning, you can return to rooking in the suburbs and pretending you’re merely a waitress in a diner, serving closed-minded readers their pie.” The distaste in his voice seemed to emanate from him.
Did I hear him right? “You’re not going to force me to help you?”
“It was never my intention to force you into anything, keeper.” He massaged his temple with two fingers and stared at the floor. “But I’m not going to send one of my mages to shepherd you and your pet reader through Jackertown at night.” He nodded to the slumped-over figure of Raf. “He’ll be safer here. In the morning, Mr. Molloy can escort you both back to the suburbs.”
“Now wait just a minute,” said Molloy, his voice low. “What about the plan? I don’t care much for the lass, but she’s a key part of it. You can’t just let her…” Molloy drifted off, looking confused but innocent, like a small child. As if he had lost his train of thought and couldn’t find it again. “Then again, maybe there’s no rush. There must be a way we can figure a plan that will work without the lass. Can’t put my finger on it, though.”
My eyebrows hiked up. I glanced at Julian, but he didn’t acknowledge Molloy, merely tapped his fingers to his lips. I jacked into Molloy’s mind and he didn’t even notice me at first, he was so swirled around in his own confused thoughts. Finally, he realized I was there and pushed me back out.
Closed Hearts (Book Two of the Mindjack Trilogy) Page 6