Mind Over Mind (3 page)

“Fair enough.” Edith rose and handed him a binder from atop the cabinet. “This is your first study assignment. I’m going to call it a day. You’re welcome to stay; just lock up and sign out with the guards know when you leave.”

She hung up her lab coat, grabbed her purse and started for the door. Then she stopped, and with a thoughtful look on her face, reached into the pocket of her lab coat and pulled out the plastic flask. She regarded it wistfully.

Joshua stopped flipping through the case studies in the binder to look at her.

“You know,” she mused, “this is probably one of the few times someone’s tried to treat him like any other teenager, and I had to take it away from him.”

“It’s the thought that counts?” Joshua ventured.

“Perhaps.” She crossed to him and set the flask in the desk drawer beside him. “Still, it’s such a shame.” She met his eyes expectantly.

He glanced at her, at the drawer. “Kind of a wasted opportunity.”

She smiled. “Just lock the door when you leave.”

“Will do.”

CHAPTER 3

Two hours later, Joshua sighed, stretched and looked at the clock. Almost 8 p.m. He’d read through a couple of the cases he was immediately interested in, but not Ydrel’s file. He had no intention of wading through that mess unless it was absolutely necessary. Still, he wasn’t tired and he certainly didn’t have anything to go home to. Idly, he opened the desk drawer.

It would probably be quiet on the floor, especially in “minimum security.” He slipped the flask into his pocket and headed to Ydrel’s room.

Everything did seem quieter, more muted, in the evening. The corridor lights had even been dimmed slightly.
This place has class
, Joshua thought, then sighed slightly.
This place has money
. He wondered how much it cost to “stay” here. They certainly didn’t stint the staff, if his internship pay was any indication. Still, he wondered what could be accomplished with the money that had gone to the “little touches” if it were allocated to a public facility instead.

Then he smiled as he heard Rique’s voice in his head, “Yeah? You tellin’ me when we hit it big, you just gonna give all your money away?”

He stopped at Ydrel’s door. A heavy set orderly passed by and eyed him suspiciously. Joshua smiled at him. For a moment, Joshua thought the other man might stop and challenge his presence there, but the orderly just nodded once and continued on his way. Joshua raised his hand to knock, but Ydrel’s voice interrupted him.

“Don’t bother knocking. The door’s open and it’s not like I have any say, anyway.”

“It’s your room,” he replied as he walked in. He whistled at the sight of it: posters, books, a ragged stuffed bear leaning against a lamp—and the dirty clothes on the floor, the shoes lying askew in a corner as if flung in that particular direction, the dirty dishes on the headboard. “You’ve made sure of that, I see.”

“A gilded cage is still a cage.” Ydrel was reclining on his bed, propped up with pillows, reading. He didn’t look up, but he snorted. “Never mind. Just a passive-aggressive response to my incarceration. So, you going to make me your pet project?” His voice held venom.

“Yeah,” Joshua said, taking the chair by the door. “And the first thing we’re going to do is give you an attitude adjustment. You’ll never have any friends if you keep acting like a jerk.”

“Any ‘normal’ friends, you mean, and I won’t have any ‘normal’ friends anyway. Just addicts and crazies and do-gooders who’ll make me their ‘cause.’”

No use trying to deny it right now. Joshua rubbed two fingers together. When Ydrel didn’t look up from his book, Joshua said, “Hear that? The world’s smallest violin playing your pity-me song. Probably ‘It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.’”

Ydrel set down the book with a thump. “You always treat patients this way?”

“No, and that’s the point. Listen, I’ll try to find the number for Jerks Anonymous later—we can both go. In the meantime, I brought you a birthday gift.” He pulled out the flask.

Ydrel sat all the way up and scooted to the edge of the bed, crossing his legs and smiling a genuine smile this time. “Bless that Edith. Sometimes she can surprise me. I didn’t think she’d give it back.” He reached for the flask.

Joshua pulled it out of reach. “
She
didn’t. No one did and don’t forget that. And we’d all get in trouble if you got sloppy drunk, so I’ll keep charge of the flask, OK?”

“OK, OK. Half a loaf.” Ydrel stopped reaching, but still leaned forward, his eyes shining with curiosity. “So what’s in it?”

Joshua unscrewed the cap and sniffed. Not like it helped. “Darned if I know.”

“Well, here’s our chance to find out. Come in and shut the door!” Ydrel called suddenly, although no one had knocked.

Sure enough, the door opened and a short, black-haired nurse stepped in. “You know I can’t do that,” she scolded.

“We’re chaperoned,” Ydrel countered and pointed to Joshua, who stood to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m—”
Whoa, dark, exotic eyes
. “I’m Joshua Lawson,” he finished, his voice a little quieter and deeper than when he’d started.

She smiled and nodded coolly. She had a smooth round face with slightly flattened cheeks. She was slight and short—he stood a full head taller, and she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze—yet there was an easy confidence in her stance that said size did not intimidate her. And those eyes. He could drown in those eyes.

“Sachiko Luchese,” she said, her tone cool and professional, but Joshua heard violins, low and mellow. He fought the urge to close his eyes and bask in the tone. He realized with a start that she was watching him expectantly. Tongue-tied, he just smiled at her.

She sighed, and took on a long-suffering look. “My father was Air Force, stationed in Misawa Air Base Japan, and my mother was a local civilian working with the housing office. Obviously, I take after her in appearance. And no
La Familia Luchese
jokes.”

She seemed to expect a response, but he was having problems concentrating past the music of her voice. “Really? OK.”

“So you’re the new intern?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Finally, he remembered his manners, only to kick himself a half-second later for treating her like some kind of elder.

She didn’t seem to notice. Her gaze slid down his arm and she raised an eyebrow. “And is this some new treatment they’re teaching in college these days?”

He was still holding the flask where anyone could see. He started to shove it behind his back, realized how stupid that would look, aborted the move and tried to speak instead, “Uh—”

“Yes!” Ydrel exclaimed before Joshua could embarrass himself further. “It’s called ‘treating Ydrel like a normal person.’ Now, are you in or not?”

“And who knows about this?” She regarded each of them with crossed arms and a stern look. In an effort to retrieve some of his dignity, Joshua spoke before Ydrel could.

“Edith, Dr. Sellars, is turning a blind eye—”

“And Malachai doesn’t know a thing!” Ydrel finished, smiling wickedly at Sachiko. “Can you imagine how he’d react if he ever found out?”

The stern look slowly faded from Sachiko’s face, replaced by a slow, lopsided smile. Joshua had to look away before he said or did anything even more stupid. It was such a cute smile. She stepped a little further into the room and shut the door. “So what’s in it?”

“No idea!” Ydrel replied almost gleefully. “Edith swiped it and the conversation changed before my uncle could tell us. You know, that’s got to be the nicest thing he’s ever tried to do for me. I know it’s the thought that counts, but I’m kind of curious about the gift. So would you tell us?” He turned to Joshua. “Sachiko’s father owns a restaurant in Newport, so she grew up learning about the different kinds of liquors. Kind of a connoisseur. Joshua, of course, hasn’t handled anything more than sacramental wine.”

Now it was her turn to reply, “Really?”

He shrugged. “I grew up in a dry house and just never saw a reason to acquire a taste.” He didn’t add that he was underage, and when he was little, he’d seen someone jump into the Arkansas rapids and drown because a couple of beers had impaired his judgment. He handed her the flask and watched as she took a very small sip and rolled it on her tongue. She smiled appreciatively.

“Scotch. Not imaginative, but nicely aged. Smooth. It’ll have a kick you won’t notice until it’s too late. I’ll be right back.” She stuck the flask into her lab coat pocket and left. Joshua couldn’t help following her with his eyes.

No sooner had the door closed than Ydrel sprang up, grabbed Joshua by the shoulder and whirled him around. “Sit down and put your tongue back in your mouth!” he growled.

“What?”

“You heard me. And you listen close to this.” Ydrel stood on the edge of the bed so he could glare down at the taller man. “Sachiko is one of the genuinely good people in this place. She acts tough, but she’s fragile as a Ming vase and if you so much as think about hurting her, I will be on you like a disease. You understand?”

“Listen, you!” Joshua somehow managed to keep his voice low despite the anger rising in him like lava. “There’s no way I’d ever dream of hurting an incredible woman like that, got it? Sit down and chill.”

Ydrel glared at him wildly for a moment, and Joshua belatedly wished he’d read at least enough of the files to know if the young client ever got violent. Then Ydrel’s expression changed, losing its hostility but remaining intense.

Joshua had read in fantasy novels how telepaths looked through a person, but Ydrel seemed to look into him, as if he could see past his skull and read his thoughts in the movement of his synapses. His pupils contracted almost to pinpoints, then moved, just very slightly, down-and-left, up-and-right, small jerky movements in a sea of blue. Joshua continued to glare at him, despite the crawly feeling it gave him. Finally, Ydrel looked away.

“OK, I believe you,” he said as he sat back down. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head as though to clear it.

“I’m so relieved.” Joshua’s reply was sarcastic but truthful. He flopped back into the chair. Neither said anything.

It was into that uncomfortable silence that Sachiko entered.

“Did I…miss something?” she asked.

Ydrel’s affirmative answer came almost atop Joshua’s negative one. Sachiko glanced first at Joshua, eyebrow raised. Despite everything, his heart fluttered. To cover it, he turned a raised eyebrow at Ydrel, who said nothing, but stared hungrily at the bakery box the nurse held in one hand. When it became obvious she wasn’t going to get any answers, she sighed in exasperation and set the box on the bed. Ydrel cheered as he pulled off the top. Inside were half a dozen small pastries, a pretty shade of green with a delicate icing leaf on each. Ydrel took one of the napkins also in the box, set a sweet on it and handed it to Sachiko. Reluctantly, he handed another to Joshua. “Though I doubt you’ll like it,” he grumbled.

Sachiko explained as she handed him a Dixie cup of the scotch. “They’re a Japanese sweet made with green tea. Don’t worry if you don’t care for the taste. Most Americans wouldn’t. You driving soon?”

“I won’t drink much,” he promised her, then looked at Ydrel. “No more than communion wine on Sunday. How’d you know that, anyway?”

Ydrel rolled his eyes as he took a bite of his treat and followed it with a sip of his birthday contraband. “Doesn’t really go together, does it? Sake would be better. Still, that makes three thoughtful presents in one birthday—that includes you, Joshua.” Ydrel took another bite, smiling blissfully. “Oh, this is so much better than that awful cake.”

Joshua set his pastry aside. Sachiko had been right. “I thought the cake tasted great.”

“I hate chocolate. It was all I could do to choke it down.”

“So why didn’t you say anything?”

Again the rolling eyes. “Normal people like chocolate.”

Joshua had noticed Ydrel’s eyes moving up and left, the way most people accessed visual memories, and played the hunch.

“Where’d you read that?” he asked, and fought down a smile of victory as both Ydrel and Sachiko glanced at him in surprise.

“There’s a comment in my record. ‘Almost pathological avoidance of chocolate,’ whatever that means. How did you know?”

“You’re the psychic. Read my mind and figure it out for yourself.”

Ydrel flushed hotly and leaned forward. For a moment, Joshua thought they were going to have a repeat of their earlier confrontation. But Ydrel just snatched up another sweet and took a large bite. “I’ve read you enough for one day,” he said through a mouthful. “Besides, Sachiko can’t read minds.”

“Well in that case,” Joshua said, turning his most winning smile on the beautiful nurse, “I’d be glad to answer any questions you have.”

Did she flush just a little? She ducked her head, her silky hair covering her face for a moment, and Joshua was aware only of her. He could hear the exotic music of a Japanese Koto, see her hands move over the instrument and cherry blossoms fell around them, filling the air with their delicate scent. She looked up, met his eyes—

—and broke the illusion with a cockney accent: “What is the approximate air velocit-yy of the unladen swallow?”

She’d caught him off guard, but the reference was too obvious to miss. “African or European?” he replied in the same accent, then joined her. “I don’t know—aaah!” They fell into giggles.

“What?!” Ydrel cut in sharply.

“Monty Python’s Holy Grail!”

Ydrel sighed. “A movie. I can’t watch video. Epilepsy, or so they say. The flickering screen triggers seizures.”

Now it was Joshua’s turn to be confused. “I never noticed the screen flickering.”

“My mind processes information faster than humans.”

Joshua decided to let that comment slide for now. “So you’ve never seen any movie? Or TV? No Python? No Star Trek? That stinks.”

“You like Trek, too?” Sachiko cut in.

“Uh-huh. There are only two things I have to do every year: go to StarCon in Denver and RenFest in Larkspur.”

“I love the Renaissance Festival! We have one in Massachusetts. I go every year—costume and all.”

“Warrior, wench or noble lady?” Even as he asked, he was imagining her in outfits for each. He hoped it didn’t show on his face.

Maybe it did, for she smiled coyly. “Depends on my mood. You?”

“Oh, wench, definitely!” Laughing, he turned to Ydrel, who was staring at them, mouth open, a line forming between his brows. “You have got to get out of here. You’re missing out.” The look of surprise turned into a glare, and through the corner of his eye, he could see Sachiko wearing a similar look. “Don’t worry about it,” he told her in a stage whisper. “It’s part of the therapy.”

She turned to Ydrel, seeking his reaction.
She really cares for him
, Joshua thought,
Not just as a nurse. There’s something else there. Not romantic, just…tender
. Despite the insight, he felt a flare of jealousy that confused him. He set his paper cup on the floor under his chair. Maybe he’d had more to drink than he’d realized.

Meanwhile, Ydrel had reassured Sachiko that things were OK. “We’re going to join Jerks Anonymous together,” he quipped.