Sentinel Lost (Mind Sweeper Series Book 5) (2 page)

“Yeah. He called each time he finished checking an area of the museum. The first two calls were fine. But when he called the third time, he sounded panicky. Like he knew someone was there, but he couldn’t find them.”

Misha coaxed. “What did you do?”

“Before I could call 911…” He stopped and closed his eyes.

I stepped closer. “What happened, David?”

“Carl screamed. And…I grabbed my club and ran after him.”

“You don’t have a gun?” I asked, surprised.

He shook his head. “No. I haven’t passed the security course yet that allows me to carry. But Carl has a gun.”

“Did he shoot it?”

“He didn’t get a chance. I ran into the special exhibit room and saw Carl dangling in the air with nothing holding him up. He was fighting for air and had his hands up by his throat. His gun was lying on the floor.

“I…I didn’t know what to do, I froze for a second, and then I ran up and swung my club, and it connected with something. Something that grunted. Then Carl’s neck twisted to the side, and he fell in a heap on the ground.”

David blinked hard several times before he got to his feet. “Then the guy appeared in front of me. His eyes were glowing. And I swung at him again, but the bat flew out of my hands like he was controlling it with his mind or something.” He planted his fists on his hips, lifted his chin, and leaned toward us a bit, like he was ready to do battle if we doubted him.

“What color were his eyes when they glowed?” I asked.

David’s hands fell limp at his sides. “You believe me?”

“Yes.”

He shuddered. “They were white with no pupils.”

“And his skin?”

“He was white with brown hair.”

Sounded like the same one I’d tangled with. “Think you could help us put together a composite drawing of him?”

“Yeah.”

I glanced at Jean Luc, who’d been observing quietly. He walked out of the room.

Misha continued the interview. “What happened next, David?”

“I thought I was dead. He took a step closer, punched me in the face, and knocked me to the ground. I made a grab for Carl’s gun. I mean, if he was going to kill me, I wasn’t going to go easy, right? But the gun shot across the room, and then the lights went out.”

“Was he carrying anything?”

“He had a backpack on, and it looked like it had something heavy in it.”

I closed my eyes for a second and thought back to the supe running down the steps. Now that David had mentioned it, it was possible the supe had been carrying something on his back.

Misha smiled at him. “You did a wonderful job, David.”

David sank into his chair again. “Carl is dead. I should have gone with him.”

Misha shook his head. “From what you’ve told us, you did everything you could have done under the circumstances. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“So I’m not going crazy?” His eyes widened to the size of half dollars.

“What’s wrong?” Misha asked.

“If I’m not going crazy…then this really happened.
Holy Shit
.”

Which summed up my thoughts quite nicely.

Before David and I could have a mutual breakdown, Jean Luc returned with Misha’s laptop, which he set on the table.

Misha flipped it open and started typing. “David, I’m going to pull up a software program to help us create a picture of this guy. Hopefully it won’t take long. Are you still with me?”

David nodded, and I raised my eyebrows and tipped my head toward the door, inviting Jean Luc and Morrison to leave the room with me. We convened in a cleaning supply storage space next door.

“That kid is amazing,” I said.

“He sure is,” Morrison agreed. “I should recruit him for the academy. So…what do you think?”

“His description and story certainly make sense based on what I saw. I’ll look at his composite and add anything he missed,” I replied.

“So how the hell are we going to cover this up? I don’t want David labeled as crazy.”

I cleared my throat. Even though Morrison was aware of the supernatural, and called us in to help on cases, he didn’t know I could manipulate memories. “We, ah, have the ability to make David forget about the supernatural aspects of what he saw.”

Morrison frowned. “I don’t want you drugging him.”

“No drugs.”

“And the composite? I can get one of my people in here to help with it.”

I turned to Jean Luc, and he gave me a nod, so I continued. “To be safe, I don’t think we want to share it with anyone outside this group. We’re going to make David forget he saw his face.”

“Why?”

“Because it would be safer for him if his statement said the assailant was masked,” I answered.

Morrison opened his mouth to argue, but Jean Luc cut him off. “Captain, you are allowing us to help with this case because it is a supernatural containment issue. If we release the assailant’s picture on the police wire, we may create a situation where your officers confront him without having any concept of how truly dangerous he is. We do not want anyone else to be hurt. Let us do our job.”

Morrison stared at Jean Luc for several tense seconds before saying, “Okay. You’ve got forty-five minutes tops with David, and then you have to get out of here.”

Thirty minutes later, Misha had the composite, a dead ringer for the supe who chucked me into the lagoon.

I sat across from David and reached for his hand. He flinched at the contact, then blushed. I smiled at him. “I need you to think about what happened one more time, David. Just for a moment.”

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?”