Mind Sweeper (Mind Sweeper Series Book 1)

by AE Jones

  “Yes, it has.”

  “What brings you here?”

  Dalton interrupted the conversation. “Who are you?”

  I cringed. Stupid, stupid.

  Jean Luc hissed at Dalton. “Mind your tongue, boy. I keep you around for pleasure. Do not make me regret my decision.”

  I held my breath, praying Dalton wasn’t dumb enough to talk back.

  After a second, Dalton lowered his eyes. “Sorry, sir.”

  Sebastian laughed. “He’s feisty, Jean Luc. I can see why you like him. Could I interest you in a trade?” He raised his hand and casually gestured toward his entourage.

  “Thank you for the offer, but, besides his obvious attributes, his connections help with our cause.”

  “Yes. We mustn’t let humans know too much. So why are you in Charles’s apartment?”

  “You are aware that he died,” Jean Luc stated.

  “Of course. He was relatively young, so the severing of his energy was not too hard on me.”

  “He was killed in a public venue.”

  “The Erie Bar?” Sebastian asked.

  “Yes,” Jean Luc answered. “Would you have any idea why he was killed?”

  He shrugged. “He was a petty thief with delusions of grandeur. I warned him on multiple occasions that he needed to take things slowly. But children often have minds of their own.”

  I swallowed the bile in my throat. Talk about delusions of grandeur. When Sebastian turned toward me as if he could read my thoughts, I lowered my eyes. Shit.

  “Look up at me, pet.”

  I raised my eyes slowly, schooling my face into an emotionless mask even though my stomach somersaulted.

  “Are you the one who can erase memories?”

  “Yes.”

  “Extraordinary.” He ran his eyes over me and came to a stop on my forehead. “You have been injured recently.” He closed his eyes and sniffed.

  I took a step back, my feet moving before my mind could scream stop!

  He opened his eyes and laughed deep in his throat. “I won’t hurt you. You are too unique.”

  Jean Luc spoke up. “We would like to search the apartment for any evidence that might help us understand what happened.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “Unfortunately, I cannot allow you to do that. You see, I own this loft. I merely permitted Charles to live here. Therefore, this loft and everything in it are my property.”

  Jean Luc bowed his head slightly. “Of course. We will be on our way then.”

  Sebastian smiled and walked over toward me, running his eyes over the desk and laptop. “The flash drive stays here as well.”

  I jerked and almost clapped my hand on my chest. But his eyes were resting on the flash drive still in the USB port.

  I nodded like a bobble-head doll and backed away from the desk.

  “Let me know if I might be of any assistance with your case, Jean Luc.”

  The three of us walked out of the apartment slowly. I wanted to scream and run like a college girl in a slasher film, but I put one foot in front of the other until we had closed the door and were out in the hallway.

  Jean Luc motioned for us to keep quiet, and we left the building in silence. I waited to speak until we were safely back in the van.

  “God almighty, Jean Luc, he’s one crazy son of a bitch.”

  “And very powerful.” Jean Luc looked pointedly at Dalton. “I apologize for speaking to you that way. Sebastian does not place much value on humans. He will not tolerate insubordination.”

  “You were protecting me, and I appreciate it. Sorry about going into cop mode. I wasn’t expecting it to be Sebastian.”

  Jean Luc frowned. “I do not like that he is involved in this. For him to come personally to Hampton’s apartment means something significant is happening. I wish we could have had more time to examine his things.”

  “It wasn’t a total loss.” I reached down my shirt and pulled out the jump drive. “We need to get this to Misha.”

  Jean Luc smiled and this time his fangs flashed in all their glory.

  Chapter 7

  Misha practically salivated when I handed him the flash drive. Zooming back to his office, he barely managed to nod when I hollered, “Good Luck”.

  I rolled my eyes at Jean Luc and Dalton. “We won’t see him again for a while.”

  Jean Luc agreed. “Go home, ma petite. It has been a long day.”

  I opened my mouth to argue and then acquiesced. There was no point sitting around waiting for info when I could do that at home. “Sure, that’ll give you and Dalton some alone time together.” They both gave me puzzled glances, so I enlightened them. “Well, since Jean Luc thinks you have ‘obvious attributes’ I thought the two of you might want some alone time.”

  Dalton opened his mouth and then seemed to think better of his first response. “I’m flattered, of course, but I…”

  Jean Luc smirked and put up his hand to keep Dalton from stepping on his own tongue. “Please do not concern yourself over my feelings. You are not my type.”

  I laughed. “Now that you have straightened that out, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

  “Ahhh, Kyle? Didn’t Misha drive you in today? How are you going to get home?” Dalton asked.

  “Jean Luc?” I turned around and that chicken-shit vampire was nowhere to be found. Why couldn’t I have been born with super speed? Now that was a cool power.

  Dalton grinned. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

  When we reached the parking garage, Dalton clicked his key fob and the lights blinked on a newer model silver SUV.

  “Where’s your cop car with fast food wrappers all over the back seat?”

  “Captain thought it would be a good idea not to scream ‘cop’ while I was working this case, so I’m driving my own car.”

  While Dalton drove us toward Little Italy, I leaned back against the headrest, watching the city rush by.

  “Kyle, will you tell me more about your power?”

  I stared at his profile as he drove. “What do you want to know?”

  “How does it work?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure exactly. I can change people’s memories.”

  “So, with the manager today, you planted the conversation with Hampton.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell him to take us upstairs?”

  “It doesn’t work that way. Except for minor suggestions, like making someone sleepy or hungry, I can’t really compel people to do things. But I can insert memories to steer them in the right direction. I just can’t force them to do anything against their will.”

  He glanced over at me for a moment. “Does it hurt you?”

  I wasn’t expecting that question. Few people who knew about my gift ever asked about how it affected me. They were more interested in the power itself.

  “Sometimes it’ll make me tired, or I’ll get a headache, depending on how long I use it.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t use it, then.”

  I stared at him in shock. Not one person had ever suggested that I not use it. “I’ve been given this gift…power, curse, whatever you want to call it…for a reason. I’m supposed to use it.”

  “How long have you had it?”

  “That’s a longer story than this car ride.”

  “How about telling me over dinner, then?”

  “It isn’t exactly a public conversation.”

  He wouldn’t be deterred. “Why don’t we get takeout from one of the restaurants on your street and eat it in your apartment?”

  My mind screamed Danger, Will Robinson, Danger! But he blinked his baby blues at me and I said yes without a moment’s thought. What the hell?

  I pulled out my cell and hit seven on my speed dial. “Tony, it’s Kyle. I need some take-out. Yeah, two specials and some garlic bread. I’ll be there in ten.”

  “What are the specials?” Dalton asked.

  I smiled. “It varies, but I’m sure you’ll love it.”<
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  He dropped me off in front of the restaurant and pulled away to look for parking.

  Tony met me at the counter, smiling like a Cheshire cat. “Dinner for two?”

  “Cut it out, Tony. It’s not what you think.”

  “Well, I put something special in the order, just in case. I’ll put it on your tab.”

  “Thanks.”

  I walked out of the restaurant. Dalton stood on the sidewalk waiting for me. He reached for the bag, and I handed it to him without a retort, which was very Zen of me. We were two blocks from my apartment, so it took us a couple of minutes to walk there. There were a number of people sitting at tables outside eating, while others strolled along the street like we were. The evening air was perfect, having cooled down from the earlier muggy heat.

  We made it up my stairs considerably faster than the evening before, and walked into my cat-free apartment. Booger must have still been out carousing. I went into the kitchen and put plates on the table. Dalton set the bag down and opened up my silverware drawer, pulling out knives and forks, making himself right at home…in my apartment.

  I pulled two glasses from the cupboard and a bottle of red wine from the pantry. Oregano permeated the kitchen. Within a couple of minutes we were eating eggplant parmesan over angel hair. After I poured us each a glass of wine, we ate in silence for a while. I swirled the pasta and sauce together on my fork and took a large bite, savoring the sweet tomatoes, but also looking forward to the surprise Tony had added—a piece of tiramisu. I had stifled a moan at the sight of it.

  Dalton finally spoke. “This is some of the best eggplant I’ve ever had.”

  I nodded between mouthfuls. “Tony is a gifted chef. Wait until you have the tiramisu, it’s like an orgasm on a plate.” Had I just said that out loud?

  Apparently I had, since Dalton choked on his wine.

  “Are you all right?” I reached over the table and thumped his back. “Put your arms up in the air.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m fine…wrong pipe.”

  We sat there in awkward silence for a minute, until I decided to fill the void.

  “So, you asked me earlier about when I first realized I had my power.”

  “Yes.”

  “I was fifteen.”

  “What happened?”

  “Oh, some dilhole by the name of Gerry Williams and three of his football buddies decided it would be fun to dump water down my front. It was their demented version of a wet T-shirt contest. I remember standing there dripping wet, and promising revenge on their sorry asses.” Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration. At the time, I wanted to shrivel up and die. Looking back as my adult self, I wanted to give them an ass-kicking.

  “The next day the buddies sans Gerry cornered me in the hallway and told me that during lunch period they were going to tell everyone what they had done to me. I glared at the three of them and wished it had never happened, that they would just forget about it. After a couple of seconds, all three got confused looks on their faces. They walked away without saying a word.”

  I stopped and took a sip of wine. I hadn’t thought about high school in a long time and all my teen angst rushed back uninvited.

  “How did you figure out that it had actually worked?”

  “I didn’t go to the cafeteria—I’m not a glutton for punishment—and later one of my friends told me Gerry started blathering on about me and what he’d done. But no one would back him up. Gerry was so pissed off he punched one of his friends and got suspended from playing football for three games.”

  “Did Gerry come after you?”

  “No. At first I thought I was losing it. I mean, how could you change something by wishing for it? But I still remembered what had happened and Gerry remembered what had happened, so he stayed away from me. He started calling me a witch behind my back. I was just happy to be done with him.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  I shrugged. “No big deal. High school sucks for everyone.”

  “Yeah, but you had to face that and your power. It had to be difficult. Did your family help?”

  I stared into pity-filled eyes and my chest tightened. I was done with this conversation. I stood and cringed when the chair scraped loudly across the kitchen floor. “I didn’t tell my family. Like I said, no big deal. Are you finished?”

  He nodded and handed me his plate. I walked over to the counter and placed the dishes in the sink.

  “Does your power work on everyone?”

  I faced him and leaned against the counter. “There have only been a few humans I’ve been unsuccessful with. Supes are hit and miss. Some I can change their memories, others no way.”

  “What about Jean Luc and Misha?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

  He stared at me, his right eyebrow rising in disbelief.

  “Listen, trust means a lot to me. I’ve never tried to use my power on either of them.”

  He held up his hands. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head. “You didn’t. To be honest, I’ve wondered before if I would be able to do it. My gut tells me Jean Luc is a definite no. Misha is questionable. But he’s more powerful than he lets on.”

  At Misha’s name, Dalton opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated before continuing. “How did you end up here?”

  “Well, if you think high school was interesting, you should have seen me in college. Living in a dorm with thousands of eighteen-year-olds was a touch overwhelming. I lasted six months and then took off on my own.”

  “To do what?”

  I chuckled. “Let’s just say I was a bit naïve back then. I thought I’d go out and find a fulfilling, well-paid profession without any discernable skills or a college education. Eighteen months later, I was trying to cheat Vegas casinos out of money.”

  His eyes widened. “By yourself?”

  I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “I had some help from a friend.” He didn’t need to know about Jack and my stupid belief that he loved me and not what my power could do for his bank account.

  “Did you get caught?”

  “A casino security guard figured out what was going on. He arrested me and started to interrogate me. I tried to erase his memory, but he just laughed. He was a vamp. Of course I had no idea that the supernatural even existed back then. Instead of turning me over to the police, he called Nicholas, who offered me a job using my skills for what he called ‘a good cause.’ At first I thought he was propositioning me, but he was serious. I’ve been working for the BSR ever since.”

  “What happened to your friend?”

  “We parted company.” More like he ran for it the minute I got caught.

  Dalton paused for a moment as if he wanted to ask me more about Jack, and I held my breath.

  “What’s the deal with Nicholas? I haven’t even spoken to him yet.”

  I started breathing again. “Before we talk about him, I’m going to make some coffee. You have to have coffee with this tiramisu.”

  He grinned for a moment. “If tiramisu is an orgasm, what’s the coffee?”

  “Foreplay.”

  He dropped his forehead on his palm, chuckling and shaking his head. “Jesus. You’re something.”

  “Let’s have the dessert in the living room. I’ll bring in the coffee.”

  He collected two plates, forks and the dessert box and turned toward the living room.

  “Don’t start without me,” I called.

  He glanced back over his shoulder, his turquoise eyes locking on me. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  I gulped and pulled the filters and coffee out of the cupboard. Get it in check, girl. Had I not just been talking about snake-in-the-grass Jack, and now I was drooling over another man?

  I stuffed the filter into the top of the coffee maker and dumped in two scoops. What had happened to Operation Get Rid of Dalton and too many men in the lifeboat? Carrying the carafe to the si
nk, I filled it with water and poured it into the coffee maker. A little bit of wine and compassionate blue eyes and I was a blithering idiot. Deep breath in. You are in control of the situation. Remember that. Deep breath out.

  I walked into the living room with two mugs of coffee and a new attitude, my chastity belt snapped firmly back in place, until he smiled at me. My blithering self rushed back in full force.

  I set the coffee down and cleared my throat, refusing to make eye contact for a second.

  “Are you okay, Kyle?”

  “Yeah, I was just trying to remember what you had asked about in the kitchen.”

  “Nicholas?”

  I took another deep breath and was able to rein in my libido. “Right. He’s our boss. To be honest, I don’t know much about him personally. He offered me work, and I did some minor jobs for him until he hooked me up with the team here in Cleveland, and I met Jean Luc and Misha.”

  “What is Nicholas?”

  I thought for a second. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve spent a lot of time over the years wondering about it. He has to be more than human, but I’m not sure what he is. I’m pretty sure he isn’t a vamp, or Jean Luc would be able to sense that. Maybe he’s a high-level demon or something off the radar screens.”

  “So Jean Luc and Misha don’t know what he is either?”

  “They both say no. If anyone might know, it would be Jean Luc, since he’s been around for more than four hundred years.”

  Dalton leaned forward and gawked at me. “What?!”

  I smiled. “Don’t let Jean Luc’s laid back attitude fool you. He is a very powerful vampire. The longer vamps live, the more powerful they become.”

  He grimaced. “Like Sebastian. You know, one thing is bothering me about our encounter with him.”

  “Just one thing? I felt dirtier after talking to him than when I was slimed yesterday.”

  “When Jean Luc talked about Hampton being killed, Sebastian mentioned the Erie Bar. How did he know about the bar? You wiped everyone’s memories.”

  “Good question. The only people who know what happened are the team.”

  “You’re forgetting about the demon and the angel.”

  “Do you think he’s working with the demon?” I didn’t even want to imagine that psychopath being in league with the angel. I had enough trouble sleeping at night.