Sentinel Lost (Mind Sweeper Series Book 5)
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I stared into his light green eyes. I pictured the supe David had seen, but I covered his face with a mask. I reworked the memory. David ran into the room and saw the man with his gloved hands around Carl’s neck. David hit him with his club, and the man recoiled but still was able to break Carl’s neck before he turned on David and knocked him to the ground. Then David lost consciousness, and when he came to, the cops had arrived.
I packaged the memory in tendrils of warmth, which I then eased into David’s psyche. The tendrils braided around his synapses and made themselves at home. Tingling bubbled along my scalp, and I stayed connected with David for a moment longer until I was sure the new memories had taken hold.
We said our goodbyes, and then Misha, Jean Luc and I walked out of the room and met Morrison in the hall.
“Well?” he asked.
“It’s done. He remembers a masked man now, and getting punched, which made him dizzy, and the guy escaped.”
“I just got off the phone with the Mayor.” Morrison’s mouth turned down. “The Feds are going to step in. Art theft is their bailiwick, and with a murder on top of it, I’m not going to be able to keep them away from this.”
Jean Luc interjected, “It would help immensely if we were able to determine what the thief was after.”
“As soon as I hear from the museum director, I’ll let you know. I’m also going to see what favors I can call in to help with the Fed situation. In the meantime, you need to figure out how we’re going to contain this. And I want to be kept in the loop.”
We trudged out of the building and climbed into the van.
I rubbed my tired eyes. “Shit. The last thing we need is some X-Files team coming here.”
Misha’s eyes lit up. “Even though they got most things wrong, I loved the show until David Duchovny left.”
“Focus, Misha.”
“Sorry, little one.”
“Where did Talia go earlier?” Jean Luc asked.
“She went to look for blood samples on the terrace. I didn’t want the cops to see them.” I swallowed before I continued. “Because when I shot him, he bled green.”
Misha smirked. “Green? We’re not talking about Vulcans, Kyle.”
“I know that! I hope I’m wrong. Either way, Talia’s making sure there’s not any supe DNA lying around for those CSI techs to stumble on.” I took a deep breath. “Do we think our perp is a vamp?”
Jean Luc frowned. “The glowing white eyes do not make sense to me. And David did not mention fangs or claws, which would have been evident if the vampire was on the attack.”
“He didn’t show any to me, either. Add the telekinesis, and it doesn’t sound like shifter, which leaves demon.”
“A high-level demon,” Misha added. “He can both dematerialize and use telekinesis.”
I bit my lip. “Plus, he blocked the cameras and shut off the lights. I tangled with a Haltrap in Nevada who could black out cameras.”
Misha frowned. “Haltraps wouldn’t have enough power to match what you and David described.”
“Then which demon clans do?”
“On earth it would be Pavel, Shamat, or Traman. They can have one of those powers, but usually not all of them at once.”
My stomach twisted. “On earth? Do you think we’re talking about someone from the demon realm? Like the Majock who helped Sebastian last year?”
“It’s a possibility,” Misha replied.
The somersault in my stomach graduated to a full-blown Cirque de Soleil performance. Memories of what Sebastian did to Dalton as part of his brutal quest for the Key of Knowledge flooded my brain. The torture, Dalton almost dying, and me erasing his memory of our time together to save his sanity. Damn.
Jean Luc watched me in the rearview mirror. “Are you okay, ma petite?”
“Yep. Started down bad memory lane but put the car in reverse and got the hell out of there.”
The back door opened, and Talia climbed in holding an evidence bag, her mouth set in a grim line. “Sorry it took so long. I had to flash a few times while I was collecting the evidence so the cops couldn’t see me.”
“Well?” I asked.
She held up the bag with a small vial inside. “I was able to collect the blood. Which is a good thing, because you’re right. It’s green. I don’t know how we would have explained that away.”
Misha lost his smirk, and I pinched the bridge of my nose in an attempt to stop a lurking headache.
“I wish I’d been wrong. What the hell are we dealing with?”
“Something not from earth,” Jean Luc said.
The setup was too perfect. Misha looked at me, and I sighed, dreading what he would be unable to stop himself from saying next.
“Live long and prosper.”
Chapter 3
“Knock, knock.”
“Stop it, Marie,” I groaned, pulling my striped comforter up to my ears and snuggling deeper under the covers. I had barely gotten three hours of sleep since leaving the art museum, and the sun was already taunting me through the window.
“Knock, knock.”
“I’m not answering you.”
Marie’s head appeared through my closed bedroom door, her gray hair in tight curls. “I can do this all day, you know. Since I’m dead, I don’t have to be anywhere anytime soon. Knock, knock.”
“Fine. What’s there?”
“Don’t you mean who?”
“Not in my world.”
“You’re no fun,” Marie huffed and floated the rest of the way through the bedroom door and over to the bed.
She was wearing her signature yellow sundress. Didn’t ghosts ever get to change clothes? She continued, interrupting my tripped-out thoughts. “I’ve been spending time with Groucho Marx and decided to try out some jokes he taught me.”
Heaven must be an interesting place. “Marie, you didn’t show up just to tell jokes. What’s up?”
She hesitated, and I sat up a bit to get a good look at her. “Is something wrong with Dalton?”
“No. Last time I peeked in on Joe he was fine.”
I blew out a breath. “Then what’s wrong?”
“How are you doing?”
“With what?”
Marie huffed at me, again. “With this Key business. You know. Girl meets boy. Boy absorbs supernatural knowledge. Girl erases boy’s memory to save his sanity. Girl loses boy, but gains knowledge. Supernatural seizures result.”
“Wow, Marie. Have you ever considered writing personal ads? You might have a knack for it.”
“You need to work on your displaced aggression, Kyle McKinley. It’s not healthy.”
“I suppose you’ve been talking to some heavenly shrinks, too?”
Marie shrugged and floated closer to me. “Maybe. How are Jean Luc and that new vampire doing?”
“That new vampire’s name is Talia, and she and Jean Luc are finally together after wasting too much time denying their vampy feelings. I’m glad Jean Luc finally listened to my advice.”
Marie frowned. “And I’m mad about that, young lady.”
I stifled the urge to laugh. “Did you honestly think you were going to have a relationship with him? You’re dead, and he’s a vampire.”
“Exactly! He’s a vampire, which means he wouldn’t be judgmental about me being a ghost.”
“You’re not corporeal, Marie. How exactly would this have worked?”
“Love finds a way, dear.”
I flung my arm over my eyes, hoping she would take the hint and go away. How was I supposed to rein her in? I had no frame of reference. My own mother was a train wreck, and although I’d never known my grandmothers, I certainly didn’t need a bossy, ghostly one. “Marie, can you give me some privacy?”
“I give you plenty of privacy when you’re playing with your kitty cat.”
I growled and lifted my arm to glare at her. “Stop calling Griffin a kitty cat. He’s the leader of the US shifter contingent.”
Marie’s eyes twinkled. “Whate
ver you say, dear. Where has he been lately, by the way?”
“In Europe, meeting with international shifter leaders.”
“Why didn’t you go with him?”
“Because it would have been boring, and they sure wouldn’t have let me attend the meeting.”
“Right, we don’t need you causing any international incidents.”
“Funny.”
Marie giggled. “I am, aren’t I? Now let me try out some of these jokes.”
My phone rang—thank God—and I made a grab for it, not even checking to see who it was. Even if it was a telemarketer calling at the butt crack of dawn, I was grateful for the save. “I have to get this, Marie. Hello.”
“Kyle, are you up?”
I glared at Marie some more, and she smiled innocently at me.
“Yes, Misha, I’m awake. What’s up?”
“Jean Luc and I just checked the museum to see if we could find out anything else about our green-blooded visitor now that the sun is up, but we came up empty. Since we’re close by, why don’t we pick you up?”
“Sure. I’ll be ready in five.”
I flung off the comforter and scrambled out of bed. “I’ve got to go, Marie. I can’t talk about Jean Luc anymore. Now go away, so I can get dressed.”
“Kyle, sweetie, we have the same lady parts.”
“Marie!”
She chuckled and faded away. I brushed my teeth and dressed quickly in jeans and a turtleneck. I pulled on thick socks and rummaged in my closet to find my backup work boots. I crammed my foot into the first boot and then hopped on one foot out into my hall while I yanked on the other one. I hopped right through Marie floating in my path. Icy pinpricks skittered over my skin.
“Holy crap! I thought you left.” I frowned at her. “Are you haunting me? Do I need to burn something of yours to set you free? Maybe a priest could get rid of you.”
She floated a little higher and glared down as if she wanted to intimidate me. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“Well, unless you’re tied to me for some strange reason, I can’t figure out why you’d spend your undead days in Cleveland, Ohio.”
Marie beamed. “It’s not the place that attracts me, dear. It’s the people. Now your teammate, Misha, is a Shamat demon, right?”
Warning bells rang in my brain. “Yes.”
“Is he single?”
“We are so not going there.”
“Russians are a very passionate people.”
I shuddered. “It’s official. I’m going to need therapy.”
Tires squealed outside, and I ran to my window to check the street below. The team van sat in front of my apartment building, smoke still rising from the tire burns on the street. One of these days, my neighbors were going to call the cops on Jean Luc.
“See you later!”
I grabbed my coat, locked up, hustled down the stairs, and hopped into the back of the van. Once I snapped my seatbelt on—because you never rode anywhere with Jean Luc without buckling up—I let out a hard breath.
Jean Luc peeled away from the curb. “Rough morning, ma petite?”
“You could say that.”
Misha stared longingly as we passed the all-night bakery, like a child stared under the tree on Christmas morning. “I would have loved some donuts.”
“Maybe tomorrow, big guy. So, no luck at the museum, huh?”
“No,” Misha said. “I also called Nicholas earlier to fill him in on what’s going on.”
I shrugged, not giving a flying fig if Nicholas knew what was going on or not. Even though he ran the Bureau of Supernatural Relations—or BSR, like all the cool kids called it—I didn’t consider him my boss anymore. Not after he threatened me last year. There would be no Boss of the Year mug forthcoming.
“Where’s Talia?”
Jean Luc turned the corner. “She took the blood sample to the lab so Doc can look at it after she has finished her shift at the hospital.”
Twenty minutes later, we pulled into the empty parking garage and trooped upstairs to the office. Since it was 6:00 am, Dolly wasn’t manning the front desk yet, so Jean Luc unlocked the door to the reception area. With its heavy wooden furniture and high ceilings, the room looked like something out of a 1940’s mystery novel, but newcomers were in for a shock when they went into our back office, which was populated by rejects from the 1970’s. An almond-colored faux wood table and lime green sofa were the highlights of the seriously out-of-date décor.
Jean Luc hustled to the kitchen to make coffee, God help us. Misha and I plopped down at the table, and he started hammering away on one of the laptops before I could take a deep breath. Our technology guru hard at work.
“What you doing, Mish?”
“Trying to match up the drawing with pictures from our supernatural database. I doubt it’s going to be that easy, but we have to start somewhere.”
“Right. Are you cross-referencing demon powers as well? Maybe we can narrow the suspects even more.”
Misha grinned like a proud papa.
“What? You think I don’t pay attention to what you say? Okay, so I don’t pay attention to a lot of your techno-babble ’cause it’s so geeky, but I still pay attention.”
“And I’m proud of you. Next thing you know, you’ll be spouting factoids like Abby from NCIS.”
The office door squeaked open, and Talia bustled in. Even first thing in the morning with no sleep, she was all pulled together. She reminded me of a prettier version of Halle Berry, if that was even humanly possible. Between her and Jean Luc with his long black hair and sexy good looks, I felt like I was surrounded by Calvin Klein underwear models.
Talia strolled in and gave Jean Luc a quick kiss. “Doc said she’d call us when she had information about the blood.”
I groaned. “Dear God, no PDA. My eyes are burning.”
Misha giggled, which was quite disconcerting coming from a six foot six, two hundred and forty-pound demon.
Talia smirked. “You must be cranky because you miss your cat.”
“Griffin’s not my cat. You’re starting to sound like Marie.” Oh, crap.
Misha stopped typing. “Marie who?”
Now I’d done it. How was I going to answer and keep them from going ballistic? I mean, I’d opened up to Misha and Jean Luc about the Key of Knowledge and how it seemed to be in me now, hadn’t I? I’d told them I would not keep secrets going forward. But I hadn’t gotten around to telling them about Marie yet. So sue me.
“Ahhh, do you remember when Dalton was talking to his dead grandmother last summer?”
Jean Luc walked out of the kitchen. “Oui.”
“Well, she kind of never left, and she talks to me now.”
As far as reactions went, it was about what I had expected. Jean Luc carried on a conversation with himself in rapid-fire French, and Misha’s Russian curses were very colorful. Talia sat next to me and waited for the international tirade to peter out.
When silence finally descended, she said, “Is she haunting you? Do you feel like you’re in danger?”
“She’s more annoying than scary.”
“And what does she want?” Jean Luc demanded.
“She says she wants to be my guardian angel, since I have a tendency to get into trouble.”
“Smart ghost,” Misha muttered under his breath.
Jean Luc sat across from me. “Why is she still here?”
“She’s got the hots for you.” I blurted, the whole honesty thing apparently turning off the common sense filter in my brain.
Jean Luc’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth and then closed it again. I’d never seen him at a loss for words before.
Misha guffawed. “I thought I’d seen it all, my friend. Now even the ghostly females are after you.”
“I wouldn’t laugh, if I were you. She’s set her sights on you now that Jean Luc’s taken.” Yep, my filter was no longer functioning.
Now it was Misha’s turn to imitate a guppy.
<
br /> I held up my hands. “I’m sorry, guys. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, honest. If I’d felt threatened, I would have told you.”
Jean Luc frowned. “I do not like it, ma petite.”
“Why? She’s harmless.”
“If she is harmless, then why are the angels allowing her to come to earth now that her mission is complete?”
As usual, Jean Luc cut right to the straight and pointy of things. My something’s-rotten meter started to ding. I would be asking Marie that very question the next time I saw her.
Chapter 4
“So where are we?” I asked.
I stood in front of the clean whiteboard in the back office and reached for a black marker. I wrote “Art Museum,” “Break-in,” and “Murder.” Then I listed the powers the supe used on Carl and David and finished off with the word “Demon,” and added “Green Blood” underneath it with a series of question marks.
Misha looked up from his computer screen. “So far I haven’t found a match for the drawing in our database.”
“What about the powers?”
“I’m compiling a list of demons that have shown at least one of these powers. I haven’t found anyone yet able to do all of them.”
“That we know of,” Talia added. “The database is only as good as the info we’ve been given. I’m sure there are demons out there that hide their abilities.”
I stared pointedly at Misha, who had hidden his own telekinetic abilities from me for years. Hell, he still hid his powers from his family.
“What have you found out, Jean Luc?” I asked.
“I am still completing the background check on Carl Willis. So far, I have discovered nothing abnormal. He was married with two grown children. He was a security guard at the museum for ten years, and does not have a prior record.”
“And David Heller?”
“Heller’s parents were killed five years ago. He and his younger sister live with their grandmother. Heller graduated from high school last summer, and from what I can ascertain, he is now supporting the three of them with his security guard salary.”