The Mind Keepers (The Mind Readers)

by Lori Brighton

  “Bloody hell.” He started to rise, but frantically I grabbed the lapels of his jacket, using my weight to hold him to me.

  “Lizzie, is the target still looking?”

  “I don’t know.” She crawled out from beneath the bush and peeked between the branches. “Oh no.”

  I stiffened. “What?”

  “He’s coming!”

  Just at that moment I heard “Abort!” in my earpiece.

  “Crap.” I released my hold and shoved my palms against Owen’s hard chest. He didn’t budge. “Move, man!”

  He quirked a dark brow in an imperious way that annoyed the heck out of me. “What, now you want me to get up?”

  “Don’t be difficult!”

  With a glare, he jumped to his feet in a fluid, easy movement I couldn’t help but admire. Almost like someone who had studied the martial arts. But I didn’t have time to contemplate that little suspicion. I was much less graceful as I scrambled to my feet.

  “You!” I heard someone scream behind me.

  “He sounds angry.” Lizzie stated the obvious as she stumbled to her feet.

  “Crap, crap, crap.” I snatched my camera from the ground. I couldn’t afford to leave it behind. “Run, Lizzie!”

  I didn’t bother to look back. The target huffed toward us. I wasn’t worried about Kelly. She knew to leave and regroup at the apartment later. But Lizzie was stumbling over her own feet, thanks to her ridiculously high heels.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” the man screamed. He’d probably have a heart attack and I’d be blamed. “Did that witch put you up to this? I’ll sue! I’ll call the police!”

  People were staring, turning to look toward us. My cover was totally blown. It sure as heck wasn’t good for business to be seen. I jumped over the curb and onto the asphalt. As long as Lizzie could keep up, we’d make it.

  “Ms. Watts, we really need to talk,” Owen called out.

  “Sorry, borrowed the car. Have to get it back to the rightful owner.”

  “This is important!”

  I latched on to Lizzie’s arm and dragged my sister across the parking lot. No man, or woman, left behind. “I’m not interested, Mr. Emerson.”

  I dared to glance back. Owen was merely standing there looking just as put together as when he’d arrived. Not a speck of dirt marred his suit; not a hair out of place. A freaking god.

  “Whatever it is, I don’t want it,” I added.

  With that said, I turned back around and raced across the lot toward the beat-up Toyota. As I climbed inside and pulled out of the parking lot, I couldn’t shake the bad, bad feeling that this wasn’t the last I’d seen of Owen Emerson.

  Chapter 2

  Owen

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The man, realizing he’d lost Emma, apparently thought to take his anger out on me.

  Ignoring him, I watched the small car tear out of the car park. I’d just met her and already she was leaving me to clean up her mess. Was it possible to dislike someone so intensely after only having had a five-minute conversation?

  I brushed a leaf from my vest, frowning over a smudge of dirt that marred the material. I’d get a bloody demerit, thanks to her. The Consulate had taught us to keep up appearances at all times; we were professionals, after all. Yes, upon occasion we were required to use brute force, but that didn’t mean we had to dress like cavemen. “I assure you, sir, I had nothing to do with this.”

  I gave the man a bored glance, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. Apparently the look hadn’t been dismissive enough.

  The older man’s jowls quivered with righteous indignation. “You tell your woman—”

  I held up my hand, having no wish to go further with this topic. “She’s not my woman.”

  As if I’d date someone like her; the idea was insane. I glanced reluctantly at the car park, a space now devoid of frustrating women. A female who wasn’t even polite enough to listen to reason. A woman whose job it was to destroy marriages. Hell, what would the elders think?

  Besides, it would be unprofessional to date a client, even if I could admit to myself that she wasn’t half-bad to look at. Blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes, hot body. But that innocent face belied the mouth and crankiness of a seasoned sailor. What had I gotten myself into? Bemused, I started to walk away, hoping to regroup with a pint somewhere.

  “See here.” The man grabbed my shoulder.

  Instinct flared to life. I dropped my briefcase. Before I could think twice about the rationality of my actions, I spun around, grabbed the man’s wrist, and flipped him over onto his back. I couldn’t deny the thrilling sense of release I felt at the physical exercise. No matter how much training, how much education…East London was still buried deep within me.

  “Sir, it would be best,” for both of us, “if you went back to your dinner.”

  We were drawing a crowd. Chair legs scratched against the deck as families turned to get a better look. Shite, attention wasn’t good at all. One of the first things we’d been taught was to blend in. One visit with Emma, and I’d lost sense of everything I’d been taught. I’d become that pathetic street sod once more, my education falling to the wayside.

  “Do we have an understanding?” I growled, pressing my foot into his chest and keeping him pinned to the ground.

  Sweat broke out just below the man’s receding hairline. I knew fear when I saw it. “Yeah, sure,” he grunted.

  Disgusted with myself, the man, and the entire situation, I released my hold. He didn’t look back as he stumbled toward the restaurant, scurrying like a rat to garbage. Just as I’d thought, the man was a bully who, when pushed back, easily gave in. I’d dealt with plenty of bullies in my youth, before the Consulate had come for me. I’d even been one a time or two.

  I sighed and swiped my hands on my trousers, as if that could erase the memory of a crappy childhood. Restless, I picked up my briefcase and started down the footpath that led toward the beach. My body didn’t seem my own, my thoughts annoyingly jumbled, my skin tingling with an awareness that hadn’t been there before I’d met Emma. Even if my rational mind refused to acknowledge her as my client, my body knew the truth. I was stuck with the chit.

  “Owen, my boy.”

  A human would have been startled by the old man’s sudden appearance, but I’d seen too many odd things to be startled by much. Jotham wore his typical green robe, which was inconspicuous enough where we resided, but ridiculous-looking here amongst the humans and their shorts and T-shirts.

  Jotham seemed to neither notice nor care about the sudden attention. “Come, let us walk.”

  I bit back my refusal. I didn’t want to walk; I wanted to go after Emma, force her to understand. Or maybe I wanted to return home and beg them for a new assignment. But I couldn’t because then I’d have to admit I’d left without permission. Of course it really wasn’t in their hands, but in the hands of fate.

  And fate could have a wicked sense of humor.

  We followed the footpath to a boardwalk that ran the length of the beach. Me in my suit, and Jotham in his long green robe. Yes, we looked insane. I completely understood why those along the beach were drawing their children closer. They most likely thought we were from some odd religious sect invented by humans to justify their existence.

  “Well done, lad.” Jotham strolled unhurried down the boardwalk, his hands clasped behind him. “You’ve found her, and have taken care of the initial meeting.”

  “She ran away.” I scoffed. “The woman refused to listen to reason.”

  I couldn’t see the old man’s lips smiling through that thick white beard, but those faded blue eyes crinkled at the corners, looking suspiciously like amusement. “Well, that happens sometimes.”

  Yeah, I’d find it humorous as well, if the client hadn’t been mine. “Happens? What if she doesn’t believe me?”

  Frowning, I kicked at a rock. I’d never even contemplated the idea that she might not accept her fate. Yes, I assumed s
he’d be shocked, but surely she could tell she had powers…that she wasn’t normal. I could sense her abilities a continent away. And if I could, that meant other supernatural beings would soon as well.

  “It doesn’t matter if she believes, the powers will come as they will. You must remember, Owen, humans tend to ignore any sense of magic in their lives. They don’t understand; it frightens them, and so they pretend it doesn’t exist.”

  “Excellent plan,” I muttered sarcastically.

  We paused, staring out over Lake Michigan. The sun sent rays of orange and pink across the cresting waves. Gulls hovered over the water, their cries peppering the air with a natural music. How could humans not believe in magic when it surrounded them? In the setting sun, in the bloom of the yellow flowers creeping across the sand, in the call of gulls above? The pulsing energy could be felt as easily as the wind. I certainly wasn’t a sentimental twit, but magic was as much a fact as the earth revolving around the sun.

  “The happiness, anxiety, and hate they feel comes from a lack of understanding. They sense the magic but they don’t understand it, and the feelings frustrate them.” Jotham continued his pace, the boards underfoot creaking with our weight. “They think they’re sick, they think it’s anxiety without having a clue that what they’re really sensing is magic.”

  A warm breeze swept across the water, stirring sand particles into the air, tiny crystals that hung suspended for the briefest of moments, shining and sparkling under the setting sun.

  “And if we told them, we’d have another witch hunt,” I said. “There are too many nonbelievers. Too many who have yet to reach that level of acceptance.”

  He nodded. “’Tis better this way…for now.”

  I raked my fingers through my hair. “Perhaps, but not exactly helpful when I’m trying to explain to my client that she has powers.”

  “Client?”

  I flushed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yes, we’ve been told it’s better to think of them as a client, rather than—”

  “Human? A living being?”

  There was no anger in his voice or on his expression, only mild curiosity. Jotham had lived too long to let his emotions get the better of him. But I knew him well enough to sense the judgment in his question.

  “I understand you’re upset, but there have been too many Protectors ruined, heartbroken even, when their clients died. It’s better to remain aloof.”

  “I see.” Jotham stroked his long beard, his attention on two children building a sand castle near the water’s edge. “Of course. We wouldn’t want to feel anything. That would be quite disastrous.”

  I knew better than to respond. I, too, realized the ridiculousness of the rule. It could be bloody difficult to resist an attachment with one’s clients. I’d even grown to appreciate Emma’s aunt. Although I highly doubted I had to worry about becoming attached to Emma Watts.

  Jotham patted me on the back in a companionable way. “Well then, your client awaits. She needs to know the truth and there’s no one better to tell her than you.”

  I was the only person who could tell her what she was. With no alternative but to confront her, I drew energy from the rays of the setting sun. Yes, I had a feeling I’d need all the strength I could get. I’d sensed the hardness in Emma. A venerable steel wall wrapped around a damaged soul. As much as she annoyed me, she also intrigued me. Damn it all, why hadn’t Clarice mentioned her niece? At the very least, warned me.

  “You haven’t told the others I’m here?”

  “No. Not yet. I think it’s best we work in secrecy for now. If your instincts are correct, then the truth will cause an uproar.”

  “Agreed. And I won’t give up on Emma.” As if I had any other choice. This was my job. A job fate had chosen for me years ago. An honored choice. Or so I’d been told repeatedly throughout my life. Now…I wasn’t so sure.

  “Brilliant,” Jotham said. “I’m glad you’re not going to give up on the dear woman.”

  Dear woman? That was taking things a bit far.

  “I knew you wouldn’t because you’re a good man, Owen. But mostly I’m glad you’re not giving up on her because she’s being followed.”

  I stiffened, my skin tingling with sudden warning. How had I not noticed before? Damn, but this was why we were supposed to control our feelings. Emotions got in the way. “What?”

  Jotham stepped off the boardwalk and started across the car park toward an ice cream shop, his long robe sweeping back and forth over his slippered feet. “Your Ms. Emma Watts. I believe she’s being tracked at the moment. Would be best if you take care of any nastiness before she notices. Would hate to introduce her to our world in such a way.”

  Shite, I thought I’d have time to at least explain things in a calm and rational manner. I should have had time. How did they know already? “What’s following her?”

  “Demon, I believe,” Jotham said over his shoulder. “The earth spawn are always the first to know, after the Protector, of course. Good luck.”

  “Bloody hell,” I whispered as I closed my eyes, concentrated, and disappeared.

  ********

  If I were lucky, I could kill the demon and dispose of the body before Emma even realized she was in danger. More importantly, before the Consulate discovered I was gone. I reached out with my senses, finding her easily enough. The moment her aunt had died and the woman’s powers had transferred to her niece, my tracking system had kicked in, although I hadn’t told anyone but Jotham. Because we were fated to be together until she died, I’d always be able to find Emma. I hadn’t thought much about that before. Now, after meeting her, the thought of forever seemed awfully long.

  The demon’s stench hit me as I materialized. Jotham had been correct, although I wasn’t surprised. He always seemed to know things others didn’t. I couldn’t spot the demon but I knew it was there, for the odor of rotting flesh permeated the area, and it had nothing to do with the fact that I was standing in a cemetery.

  Emma weaved her way around tall obelisks and flat headstones that erupted from the brilliant green earth, without a clue of what was to come. Unwillingly, my gaze went to her, admiring the sway of her hips. An unwelcome heat stirred in my chest. Hell, as ridiculous as it seemed, my body was attracted to her. There was just something about the woman’s casual stroll, the way she exuded confidence, yet if one really looked into her eyes—those brilliant blue eyes—one could see the emotion there. Pain. Confusion. Sorrow. She was a puzzle, a mystery.

  But I wasn’t a bloody psychologist who could help her sort out her issues. I was here to protect her, end of story. Determined to ignore my feelings, I started after my stubborn ward. I’d follow at a discreet distance until the demon decided to grace us with his presence. Hopefully I could destroy the monster before Emma noticed.

  Large oaks and maples shaded the area from the setting sun and provided enough shadows for me to easily blend into the darkness. Extending my senses, I searched for the demon. Hell yes, definitely in the area.

  Dinnertime. The town was quiet, the cemetery even more so. What sort of person cut through a graveyard when walking home? The woman had no common sense. Didn’t she realize that demons and other supernatural beings harnessed their strength in cemeteries, harvesting the lingering emotion humans left behind? Apparently she didn’t. She was completely clueless.

  Fortunately, she had me. And I knew much, much more about her than she realized. I knew she owned no car and the vehicle she’d driven in her haste to escape had been her friend’s. I knew she lived in a converted loft with her sister in this small lakeside town, although her mother had moved to Florida. I knew she supported the family with the PI business. I knew her life was about to change drastically.

  What I hadn’t known was she’d be so bloody stubborn, and, damn it all, so attractive. I wasn’t sure which annoyed me more. Her looks I could deal with, her stubbornness was another matter. Then again, what had I expected? For her to smile prettily up at me, pack her bags, and eagerly lea
ve to start her new career?

  She followed the dirt path as it curved around a mausoleum, the stained glass window of an angel staring down in judgmental censorship. How would she react when she knew the truth of my sudden appearance? I had a feeling it wouldn’t be good. I certainly didn’t look forward to that moment, but the sooner it happened, the better. I tore my gaze from Emma and searched the cemetery.

  The demon was there, lurking in the shadows. I could sense the beast, the whispered warning swirling low in my body, building, flaring like alarm bells going off. Not surprising that the demon had found her so quickly. Their instincts were spot-on. But if the demon knew, that meant the others might find out as well.

  Where was the bloody bastard?

  Something shifted, morphing from the shadows behind the mausoleum. Emma sensed the demon as well, for she paused there on the path. The setting sun sent rays through the trees and highlighted her body with a heavenly glow. She started to turn. I stepped behind an oak, leaning against the rough bark. Emma was working with heightened instincts now that the powers had transferred. What would she do when confronted by the monster?

  She scanned the small, secluded cemetery on a hill that overlooked the lake below. Perhaps her skin tingled. Maybe her stomach clenched as heat swept through her form. But, like most humans, she’d ignore the unsettling feeling. Much to my disappointment, she turned back around and continued down the small trail winding through Victorian headstones, dismissing her sixth sense. Fortunately for her, I was there to protect her back.

  A Bubontic Demon, with the skill to seduce, suck you dry, and take over your body. Most women didn’t see it coming.

  “Excuse me.” The demon stepped out of the shadows in all his brooding maleness. I rolled my eyes, disgusted. Dark and mysterious, they never failed to attract the attention of the female population.

  Emma spun around, startled. “Yeah?”

  He smiled a slow, sexy smile that annoyed me more than I wished. And like most females, she unwillingly stepped closer, drawn to the demon. Perhaps her instincts were warning her that something wasn’t right, but her attraction was obvious. She should have known better. I shifted, moving from tombstone to tombstone. The sun had set and the lights that lined the path threw eerie shadows across the marble headstones.