Mind Sweeper (Mind Sweeper Series Book 1)

by AE Jones

  I waited for an assignment and when none came—thank God—I decided to take advantage of the situation to escape for a while. “Guys, I’m going to go run some errands while you work on the case.”

  They nodded in tandem as they bent over the computer screen and I headed for the door before one of them thought of something for me to do.

  Dolly sat out front reading Popular Mechanics.

  “I’m heading out for a while. Do you need anything?”

  “Dark chocolate and string cheese.”

  “I’ll bring some back.”

  Since it was midmorning, the parking garage was quiet when I exited the elevator and walked toward my car.

  “Ms. McKinley?”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up when that smooth voice called out. I turned. Sebastian stood a few feet away from me. This was so not good. He was the last supe I wanted to be alone with.

  “Sebastian.”

  “I understand you’re looking for me?”

  I peered around the garage surreptitiously. Were his goons nearby? “Our team wants to speak with you concerning Hampton’s death.”

  He took a step toward me, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “Since we’re both here now, you may ask me your questions.”

  “Actually, I have an appointment. We’ll need to do this another time.” My external voice stayed relatively calm, but my internal voice shrieked, “Don’t listen to my heartbeat, don’t listen to my heartbeat!”

  He disappeared. Where was he? In the next second, his warm breath landed on the back of my neck. Holy shit.

  “I can’t believe your other appointment cannot be rescheduled,” he whispered.

  I swallowed. “Fine, let’s go upstairs to the office, then.” I spun around and took a jerky step back from him.

  His dead green eyes stared at me. “You amuse me, Ms. McKinley, trying to appear calm, but we both know the truth.”

  That was it. Enough with the intimidation tactics. If he wanted to kill me, he would have done it already, right? “Actually, the truth is what we’re looking for. I’m not sure you know what truth is.”

  His perfect façade slipped as his green eyes darkened and he had the nerve to flash his fangs. “You may be able to talk to Jean Luc in such an insolent manner, but I will not tolerate it.”

  He advanced on me slowly while I backed away, toying with me like a cat with a mouse. There was no point in running. He could be on me in a split-second. I took another step and twisted my ankle, my arms spinning like a helicopter in an attempt to right myself. As I started to fall, hands clutched me from behind and I landed against a strong chest.

  I couldn’t breathe and didn’t want to turn around to see who had me. It had to be one of Sebastian’s guards. But as the seconds ticked by, he did not hand me over to Sebastian. For that matter, I wasn’t sure why Sebastian was standing in front of me frowning.

  “It will be okay, ma petite.”

  I sucked in a breath when Jean Luc’s comforting voice filled my ears. Once again he had saved my ass. Misha and Dalton walked up next to us. Jean Luc handed me off to Dalton like a sack of potatoes, and I did not complain in the slightest. Dalton carried me a short distance from the impending brouhaha. I sucked in a shaky breath.

  From out of nowhere, two of Sebastian’s guards joined the fun.

  Misha stepped up closer to Jean Luc and grinned. “It’s been a while, Sebastian.”

  “Misha, Jean Luc. As I was just saying to Kyle, I understand you wish to speak with me.”

  Jean Luc did a little fang-flashing of his own. “You know the rules. Do not come here again. You were not invited. This is my territory.”

  “Really? I would argue everyone here is fair game. You have not tasted either of the humans.”

  “They come to me of their own free will. I do not have to resort to compelling a human for sexual favors.”

  Sebastian growled deep in his throat. “Remember who you are addressing.”

  “I have not forgotten your status as a Founding Vampire, nor the respect normally due one who holds the title,” Jean Luc answered in a low voice. “However, the moment you threatened one of mine, you forfeited the right of respect.”

  “I will be speaking to Nicholas.”

  “And I will be speaking to the vampire council,” Jean Luc countered.

  Sebastian and his minions marched away, their steps echoing loudly in the parking garage.

  Chapter 23

  I let out a hiss when Dalton placed the bag of ice on my ankle and a chill shot up my leg.

  “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

  “No, it’s cold, that’s all. My ankle doesn’t even hurt. I’m fine, guys, honest.” Misha handed me a mug of coffee. “Thanks. How did you know I was in trouble?”

  Jean Luc stared at me for a moment, his pupils almost entirely black. “I sensed Sebastian in the building. Tell me exactly what happened.”

  I relayed the story, watching all three of them tense, testosterone thickening the air. It was sweet, really, but a bit claustrophobic. “What was the deal with the whole territory thing you spouted at Sebastian?”

  “Vampires have established territories,” Jean Luc explained. “As a courtesy, you do not go into another’s territory without asking permission first. And you definitely do not threaten someone under a vampire’s protection. Sebastian broke the rules.”

  “What about when we went to Hampton’s?” I pushed back.

  “He was already dead and we were investigating a case. There was no infraction on my part.”

  “I can’t take the blame for this one, guys. He found me.”

  “Will he come after her again?” Dalton asked.

  “Probably.” Jean Luc nodded. “I need to decide how best to protect her. Sebastian seems to be obsessed with her for some reason.”

  “Ahhh, guys? I’m in the room here. Maybe he’s taken with my sparkling personality?”

  “No, that is not it. I think he wants to exploit your gift. Sebastian is a user.”

  “I appreciate your concern and all, but I need to be part of the decision-making process here, okay?” The three of them went silent, staring at me as if I had announced the world was flat. “What?”

  Misha was the first to recover. “You didn’t have a fit about us wanting to protect you.”

  “What’s the point? You’re just trying to keep me safe. When are you going to talk to the vampire council, Jean Luc?”

  “I have not yet decided if it will cause more harm than good. I will let him sweat tonight and decide in the morning. In the meantime, you should not stay at your place tonight.”

  I stared at him incredulously. “You really believe he would come after me?”

  “I do not know what he is thinking right now. I am shocked he came here today and threatened you. He seems to think he is untouchable.”

  “She can stay at my house tonight,” Dalton volunteered.

  “Wait a minute,” I announced rather loudly. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  Misha sighed. “You were doing so well with your temper, Kyle, don’t blow it now.”

  “He doesn’t know my name, so she should be safe with me tonight,” Dalton insisted.

  I swallowed my frustration. “Fine, just for tonight. Jean Luc, please come up with a solution by tomorrow. I want to be home in my own bed. And besides, Booger needs me.”

  “Let me sleep on it.”

  I huffed. “Says the vamp who never sleeps.”

  * * *

  Dalton drove us to the storage facility, since we were meeting Doc there before going to his house. I was fine, but Dalton had insisted on having my ankle checked. I was sure Doc would end up clucking over me.

  We stepped into the lab. Doc stood next to a gurney zipping up a body bag.

  “Byron?” I asked.

  “Yes. Nicholas called. We’re releasing the body to the pack, and they’re on their way to pick him up. Let me wash up while you tell me what you did to yourself this time.”r />
  “You need to work on your bedside manner.”

  “Whatever. Tell me what happened.”

  I spilled the ridiculous events as Doc washed and then examined my ankle. She wrapped it in an ace bandage.

  “Is she okay?” Dalton asked.

  “Her ankle will be fine, but we’ll wrap it for tonight, just in case. Now let’s have a look at your stitches.” She pushed back my bangs and stared for a moment. “These can come out. Do you want me to do it now?”

  “Sure.”

  Doc walked over to a cabinet along the wall and pulled out some instruments.

  I grimaced. “Are those the same instruments you use for autopsies?”

  “Yes, but I sterilize them. Are you going to get all squeamish on me? “

  “Just do it.”

  Doc snipped the first stitch and pulled it out lightly. As she snipped the second one, the buzzer to the back door sounded. Doc and I looked up at the monitor on the wall. A dark van sat in the back bay area.

  “It’s the pack to pick up Byron. Joe, would you let them in?”

  Dalton nodded and left. Doc kept snipping away. Within a couple of minutes, Dalton came back through the door, followed by Griffin and two other men. I was surprised to see him. This was going to be a bit awkward.

  Doc set down the scissors. “Griffin, it’s been a long time. I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

  “Sabrina.” He turned to me, his eyes moving from my forehead to my wrapped ankle. “Don’t let me stop you from helping Ms. McKinley.”

  “She’s fine. Let me get you a copy of the autopsy report.” Doc walked to the other side of the room and Griffin continued to stare at me. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Doc is just taking out some stitches.”

  “And your ankle?”

  “I’m fine. No big deal.” Dalton watched our exchange closely. “Griffin, this is Lieutenant Joe Dalton from the Cleveland Police Department.”

  “The lieutenant was kind enough to introduce himself when he let us in. I didn’t realize you had a human on the team.”

  “Besides me you mean?”

  “Of course, besides you, but I should have guessed as much.”

  He had the nerve to smirk at me. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he going to tell Dalton he could smell him on me? Not good. I needed to change the subject quickly.

  “I apologize for getting off on the wrong foot yesterday. I meant no offense.”

  He shrugged. “I’m used to people making assumptions about shifters. You might want to spend some time with us to gain a broader perspective.”

  Smug bastard. “I’ll make sure to schedule some time after this investigation.”

  Doc returned and handed Griffin an envelope. “It’s all in here. If you have any questions, feel free to contact me. Would you like to spend some time alone with Byron before you move him?”

  Griffin’s smugness disappeared immediately. “I would like to see him.”

  Doc moved to the gurney, unzipped the bag and flipped back the top to show Byron’s head. Griffin walked over, his jaw muscles rippling as he stared down. After a second, he placed his hand on Byron’s forehead and whispered a few words, then backed away. Doc zipped up the bag and the two other shifters pushed the gurney out of the room.

  “Thank you, Sabrina. I’ll review the information and will contact you with any questions. We’ll also conduct a full investigation of this murder.” He smirked at me. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the pack in check as long as I feel confident a true investigation is underway, one whose goal is to find and bring Byron’s killer to justice. Lieutenant, Ms. McKinley.” With a nod, he walked out of the lab.

  “I’m surprised he didn’t make us kiss his ring,” I mumbled.

  Doc chuckled. “I don’t know how you manage to piss off everyone you come into contact with, Kyle.”

  “He’s overly sensitive for a guy. Strikes me as a pouter.”

  “He strikes me as someone who knows what he wants and goes after it,” Dalton said. “I’ll go bring back the gurney for them.”

  “I’ve got a few more stitches to remove.” Doc walked over to the sink and washed up again before picking up the instruments. “So what is the deal with you and Griffin, anyway?”

  “I met him the other day, and he spouted a bunch of crap about smelling Dalton on me, and then I proceeded to piss him off.”

  “I’m not surprised he can smell Dalton. His pheromones are off the charts when he’s around you.”

  “Why does everyone keep sniffing me? For the love of God, cut it out!”

  “I’m a succubus. I can sense sexual frustration across a football field. Yours and his.”

  “Well, I’m just sick of fighting with Dalton and Griffin.”

  “Sweetie, you’re not fighting. It’s your version of foreplay. And for the record, Dalton isn’t the only one releasing pheromones around you.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Our shifter-king is also interested.”

  “Dear God, give me strength.”

  “Give you strength for what?” Dalton asked as he pushed the gurney back into the room.

  I froze like a deer in the headlights and Doc saved me. “I was just telling her I’m going to start charging for all these medical services. Come check out my handiwork.”

  Dalton walked over and leaned in close. “Looks good.”

  I stared up at him. His eyes weren’t on my forehead, but latched onto mine. Heat raced through me. If I didn’t watch myself, I was going to end up like a heroine from one of those novels I hid under my bed.

  It was time to make a decision about Dalton. I just didn’t know if I was ready to sign the treaty yet.

  Chapter 24

  Dalton’s house was a craftsman-style bungalow with dark green shingles and a large front porch. Not what I was expecting.

  “This is a nice house.”

  “For a cop’s salary, you mean.”

  “I wasn’t going to say that,” I protested.

  “No problem. When I first bought it, it was in bad shape. I’ve been working on it for a couple of years now. It’s finally looking good.”

  “Ohhhhh, so you are one of those.”

  “One of what?”

  “One of those annoying people who can fix things.”

  “Yep. I even sanded my own floors.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Now you’re just bragging.”

  He laughed and opened his front door for me. The inside was…beautiful, in a guy kind of way. The living room had a fireplace with finished, but empty, bookcases on either side. There was very little furniture, just a well-worn brown leather couch, a wooden coffee table and a TV.

  “A little stark, Dalton.”

  “Yeah. I haven’t had much time to do anything with the inside, except the kitchen. The furniture is left over from my last apartment, and it’s seen better days.”

  “I see you had enough time to go out and buy a huge flat screen.”

  He grinned. “A guy has to have a vice or two.”

  I walked over to the fireplace. There were two pictures sitting on the mantel. One was of an older woman who had Dalton’s nose and mouth, but her eyes were a dark brown.

  “That’s my Grandmother Marie, who raised me.”

  I reached for the other frame, hesitating until Dalton nodded and then I picked it up. A woman with long dark hair and a man with Dalton’s eyes stared back at me. “How did your parents die?”

  He stared at the frame and I passed it to him. “My parents were murdered. My dad was FBI, and he was working a mob case. They threatened my mom and me, but my father wouldn’t back down. They broke into our house and killed my mom when my dad wasn’t home to protect her. Afterwards he went after the guys who did it, but they killed him, too.”

  My throat tightened and I had to swallow hard before I could speak. “I am so sorry. Were you in the house?”

  He shook his head and placed the frame
back on the mantel. “I was spending the night with my grandmother. She definitely would have liked you.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  He shrugged. “I just am. Are you hungry?”

  I took that as his hint to change the subject. “Yeah. Do you have good takeout around here?”

  “Wow, I think you’re a closet sexist, McKinley.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Sounds like you assume just because I’m a guy I don’t know how to cook.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t cook very well, so my phone is stuffed with restaurant numbers.”

  “Well, I thought I would make dinner, if it’s okay. Do you like chicken?”

  “Yep.”

  “If I give you a knife, can I trust you to chop up some vegetables? I’d rather not visit Doc again today.”

  “Very funny.”

  We walked into the kitchen and now I was impressed. It was understated and simple, but he had installed stainless appliances that gave it a sleek look. “Good job on the kitchen.”

  “Thanks. This was the first room I worked on when I moved in.” He washed his hands and then opened the refrigerator and took out carrots, celery and lettuce. “Can you put together a salad for me?”

  “Sure.” I also washed my hands and he set a chopping block and knife on the counter. I chopped while he worked on the chicken at the sink. “So what’s on the menu tonight?”

  “Chicken Marsala.”

  My eyebrows shot up in shock and he laughed. “My grandmother taught me to cook. She said a man who cooks is a good catch.”

  “Your grandmother is a smart woman.”

  “Yeah, she was. She’s been gone for three years now, but I still think about her a lot.” He got a bottle of white wine and a container of mushrooms from the refrigerator. “Want some wine before I use the rest of it in the sauce?”

  “Sounds good.”

  He poured me a glass and then hesitated before handing it to me. “Chop up the veggies before you have too much of the wine.”

  “Good Lord, cut me some slack.”

  “When you cut me some slack, I’ll cut you some.”