Mind Sweeper (Mind Sweeper Series Book 1)

by AE Jones

  I took one more tentative look at the page and gasped when the words shifted to English so I could read them. And it hit me like a bulldozer. Dalton had been spouting Latin at the time Sebastian was beheaded. Had I absorbed his memories the way I had Trina’s? But if I’d just absorbed his memories, why could I read the passage in front of me?

  Knowledge. If Dalton was the key of knowledge, had I absorbed the same knowledge? Was I the new keeper that Father Brown’s translation referred to? I shook my head. No jumping to conclusions. This would have to wait. I had another promise to keep today. I stuffed the book into my bag and walked out onto the quad, dodging the students who were just beginning their days.

  Two hours later, after a trip to the drug store and a ruined T-shirt speckled with dye, my jet-black hair was no more. I stood on the Connors’ front porch ringing the bell. Stephanie opened the door, her eyes widening before she smiled.

  “Hello, Kyle.”

  “Stephanie. Is Trina home?”

  “She’s in the back yard in the tree house. She’ll be excited to see the new you.”

  I opened the back door and walked across the yard. Unlike the last time, gangly legs were not dangling down from the tree house ledge, so I hollered up to her.

  “Trina, it’s Kyle. Can I come up?”

  “Yeah.”

  I climbed up the ladder and Trina came out the door and dove into my arms.

  “You did it. Purple. It’s awesome!”

  I smiled at her, running a hand through my hair. “Thanks. I wanted to show you first.”

  “It looks like Purple Passion.”

  I held up my hands and waved my ratty fingernails. “My nails could use a touch-up. Are you game?”

  “Sure. Let’s go into the house.”

  “Before we go, I found something of yours in the yard.” I pulled the heart bracelet out of my pocket and handed it to her. “Here.”

  Her eyes widened and I held my breath praying I had made the right decision. “Wow! Thanks, I didn’t know where I had lost it. I can’t wait to tell Mom. Come on, let’s go in the house. Are you hungry?”

  And I found I was hungry, for the first time in two days. “Do you think your mom can make some of her famous cinnamon toast?”

  Chapter 45

  It was exactly eleven days, five hours and twenty-three minutes since I had erased Dalton’s memory. And in the next thirty seconds, I was going to bludgeon an annoying customer to death with a menu. Not the lunch menu, which was too flimsy to cause any real damage, but the dinner menu, which had enough heft to achieve my goal.

  Every August, Little Italy celebrated the Feast of the Assumption. Throngs of people invaded the small neighborhood, eating, shopping and generally celebrating the end of summer.

  Normally, I avoided the Feast like the mall on Black Friday. Too hot, too many people, too much aggravation. But this year it beat being alone, something I had grown anxious to avoid.

  It didn’t help that I had taken a leave of absence from work. Actually, I had quit, but Nicholas had insisted it was a leave and I had insisted he could go to hell. We were at a bit of an impasse. So I had volunteered to help Tony at his restaurant for the week. It was the least I could do for him. Although why he thought I could be hostess material was beyond me.

  “How much longer are we going to have to wait?” a voice whined.

  I looked up into the face of a tall man whose lips were pressed into a thin line. The petite woman next to him wore a short dress designed for a woman half her age. Tony so owed me for this.

  When I didn’t answer him, he spoke in a louder voice. “Why is this taking so long?”

  I took a deep breath, counting to ten in my head. “Sir, there are thousands of people in town today for the Feast, so nothing is going to move quickly.”

  The woman with him had the nerve to roll her eyes at me. I looked beneath the podium for my weapon. The dinner menus were made out of a heavy cardboard and covered in a thick vinyl which was sure to sting. Perfect.

  Just in time, Tony came bustling up to the hostess stand carrying a tray of meatballs and sporting a huge grin. “Thank you all for your patience. While you wait, I thought you might like to try some appetizers.”

  Tony then relieved me of my hostess duties, and tucked me away in the corner making cappuccinos. It was the best place for me. I didn’t have to deal directly with customers and it allowed me to work with my first love—java.

  Tony walked up and I held up the iced cappuccino he had requested. “What table gets this one?”

  “It’s for you. Take a break.” He motioned to a small table. “You’ve earned a couple minutes off your feet.”

  I looked up into Tony’s sweaty, red face. “I’ll take a break if you do.”

  He dismissed my comment with a wave of his hand. “Everything’s good.” But he sat down next to me anyway. “How are you doing?”

  “Fine,” I answered automatically.

  “Right,” he answered, but since he was reading my emotions, we both knew I was lying. He stared hard at me for a second. “Well, I’m on the lookout for you.”

  Little alarm bells sounded in my head. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve decided to expand my horizons. Besides matching people with their favorite foods, I’m going to do a little actual people-matching on the side.”

  I shook my head a bit too emphatically. “No, thanks. Besides, I can’t imagine there are too many people out there who would take to my ‘forceful’ personality.”

  “Oh, you’ll be a challenge, for sure. But I’m tenacious.” He stood and pushed in the chair. “I’ve already got some ideas.”

  Before I could protest some more, he ambled away. Good Lord, that’s all I needed. Knowing Tony, he would have men serenading me outside my apartment window. The neighborhood already thought me strange; this would tip it over the top.

  Plus, I definitely was not ready. No jumping right back up on the horse for me. I was just fine with brooding. I was an expert at it, as a matter of fact. I took a large swallow of the coffee and turned to watch as the crowd outside surged and ebbed along the sidewalk.

  After a couple of minutes, I stared down at the dregs of iced cappuccino puddled in the bottom of my glass and closed my eyes. I had not been sleeping well. My dreams were peppered with Dalton’s memories. Fearful I would relive his suffering at the hands of Sebastian, I fought REM sleep at every opportunity.

  “Where have you been all my life?” a voice asked softly.

  I was going to kill Tony. He had to have set a land speed record setting me up with someone. “Are you kidding…?” I lost my power of speech when I looked up into a set of luminous turquoise eyes. Only one person had those eyes. My stomach twisted. I had to be imagining him. I blinked back the moisture threatening to erupt as he sat down across from me.

  It was official. I had lost it. Now I had graduated to having visions of Dalton when I was awake.

  He leaned in close. “Did you think erasing my memory would get rid of me so easily?”

  “You’re not real.” I pushed the chair back and stood. He reached his hand out and I sucked in a breath when his warm, callused fingers circled my wrist.

  “It’s me, Kyle. I’m real.”

  “I don’t understand,” I mumbled, sinking back down. “How…”

  “I’ve been having nightmares for days now, images of people and events which didn’t make any sense. When I would wake up, my head felt like it was going to split open. The doctors chalked it up to the trauma. But I couldn’t let it go, not after I saw you in my dreams. I couldn’t let you go.”

  I took a deep breath. “What about the pain?”

  He grinned. “My grandmother started talking to me in my dreams. I thought I was really losing it then. When I finally spoke back to her, she asked me what I wanted, and I told her I had to know the truth about you. She must have called in her marker with the angels, because the next thing I knew, I had a divine visitor who helped me fill in what happened
and the pain simply went away.”

  I gaped at him. “Those damn angels are getting pretty loose with the whole not interfering thing.”

  “Are you really going to complain?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Can I get your friend something to eat?” Tony asked as he walked up to the table.

  “You can see him?” I muttered.

  Tony stared at me for a second before grinning like an idiot. “Yes, dear, I can. Let me get you both some tiramisu. On the house.” He walked away.

  Dalton chuckled. “I’m holding your hand and you still thought I was a figment of your imagination?”

  “It’s been a long couple of weeks.”

  The humor left his face. “For me, too. I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For putting you in that position. I know the last thing you wanted to do was mind sweep me.”

  “I did it to save your life.” My heart picked up speed and I tried to pull my hand from his grip. “Wait! You can’t be seen with me. What if the supernatural community comes after you again?”

  “I’m not afraid, Kyle.”

  “You almost died. You need to forget about me.”

  He shook his head. “Already happened once, and it won’t be happening again if I have anything to say about it.”

  My head was spinning. There were a dozen reasons why he needed to walk away and not look back, but now that I stared into his eyes, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him again. I opened my mouth and he placed his fingers over my lips to silence me.

  “Listen to me. There’s a reason why I have my memories back. We have to figure out what the key is all about and where it is now. It’s not in me anymore.”

  I nodded, and when he moved his hand away from my mouth, I spoke in a whisper. “We need to talk about the key.”

  “Let’s make a deal. We talk about saving the world tomorrow. Tonight, I simply want to be alone with you. Just the two of us. Do we have a deal?”

  I smiled. “Yep. But I have to finish my shift here.”

  “No you don’t.” Tony held up a bag. “I packed your dessert to go. You’re fired.”

  I laughed as Dalton took the bag and pulled me up from my seat.

  “You, sir, are a prince among men,” I called over my shoulder to Tony as we headed toward the door.

  We snaked our way through the crowd, Dalton holding tight to my hand as we crossed the street to my apartment building. I unlocked the door and we stepped into the cool lobby.

  Dalton handed me the dessert. “Hang on to this.”

  “What…” Before I could get my question out, Dalton lifted me and carried me up the stairs.

  “Dalton, put me down!”

  “Not on your life.” Once inside my apartment, he refused to set me down until we reached my bedroom. His eyes took on that predatory glint I recognized all too well. I backed away from him.

  “I almost didn’t recognize you with your new hair color. What do you call it?”

  “Purple Passion.”

  He cocked his head and stared at me for a moment. My skin tingled under his scrutiny. “The name fits,” he responded.

  I smiled and stood on tiptoe to kiss him soundly. He growled and pulled me up against him. “Soooo…do you want to eat dessert before or after?” he asked in a low voice.

  I backed away again and held the bag up, dangling it in front of him. Turning, I glanced over my shoulder.

  “During.”

  His eyes darkened and he made a grab for me. I laughed and ran to the other side of my bed.

  It didn’t take him long to catch me.

  Thanks!

  I hope you enjoyed the first book in my Mind Sweeper Series. There will be more to come! If you would like to know when my next books will be released, please join my new releases email list at www.aejonesauthor.com or follow me on Twitter @aejonesauthor or Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/aejones.author1

  And if you are so inclined, please review this book as well.

  I also thought I would treat you to an excerpt from my next release. Some of you may have thought I was being a bit of a tease when Kyle asked Jean Luc if he had ever been in love and he simply answered, “Her name was Talia.” Well…there was a method to my madness. Jean Luc and Talia’s story unfolds in my next release, a story about how they first met and fell in love while hunting down a supernatural serial killer.

  This novella is scheduled for release October 2014. Please turn the page to read an excerpt from The Fledgling.

  Excerpt from

  The Fledgling

  AE Jones

  Sometime in the mid 1980’s

  Chapter 1

  The smell of blood no longer excited him. Whether that was a good thing was debatable. However, in this particular instance it worked to his advantage. The stale, tinny odor engulfing the room had already sent several men out the door to lose their most recent meal.

  “Jean Luc?”

  Mon Dieu. He turned toward the voice and stifled a groan. Three hundred and seventy-five year old vampires did not groan in the face of overzealous human females. And one such female sashayed toward him.

  Well, sashayed was perhaps an overstatement, since she wore paper slippers over her shoes and studiously tried to avoid the human detritus littering the floor. The extraordinarily large shoulder pads in her suit made her look like a small child playing dress-up in her father’s clothes.

  “It is you! Hi, how have you been?”

  “Good evening, Muriel.”

  She smiled and her eyes assessed him quickly, the way a shifter would peruse a fresh piece of meat. “You still look the same. I’m trying to remember the last time I saw you…”

  Was she really flirting with him, here? Jean Luc took a calming breath. “We met over the previous dead body.”

  Muriel giggled. “Of course. Well…I guess I should get to work, then.” She snapped on her rubber gloves and squatted down next to the corpse.

  And within a matter of seconds, the flirtatious woman disappeared, replaced by a focused, professional Medical Examiner who barked orders. “Harper, did you get pictures on both sides of the body?”

  When no one responded, Muriel’s head jerked up in irritation. “Harper!”

  “Is he the redheaded technician with the camera?”

  “Yes.”

  Jean Luc nodded toward the door, and the muted sounds of retching. “He is a bit indisposed.”

  Muriel sighed, “He’s new. I hope he sticks around longer than the last tech. They all think this job is going to be like that TV show, Quincy.” She stood and scanned the room, homing in on an older officer. “Simmons, would you go get the camera from Harper and make sure all angles are captured.”

  When Simmons returned, she stepped out of his way and motioned for Jean Luc to follow her into the garage.

  Peeling off her gloves, she said, “I thought I had seen it all before, but this? His throat was ripped out. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was attacked by a bear or a wolf.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Except we’re in a split-level in the Indianapolis suburbs.”

  Jean Luc shrugged. “There is that.”

  “Come on, Jean Luc, the department didn’t just hire you for your pretty face. Give me something to work with.”

  The department had not actually hired him at all, but the misconception helped him with his real job. The police commissioner contacted the Bureau of Supernatural Relations whenever something “irregular” occurred, so Jean Luc could help cover it up. But there would be no concealing this type of death. The killer might as well have posted it on a billboard. And claw marks did not narrow the field of potential supernatural killers. It could mean vampire, demon, or shifter.

  He paused for a moment, debating how much to say. Unfortunately, he had seen this type of kill before. “The viciousness of these murders is increasing. He either knew the victim or is beginning to enjoy the savagery of the act.”

  Muri
el nodded. “I see no evidence of hesitation this time.”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but something light as a gossamer thread brushed his consciousness, and he looked out the open garage door, casing the yard. Several uniformed police officers stood outside, but none were paying attention to his discussion with Muriel.

  A supernatural was nearby.

  “Jean Luc?”

  He turned back to the Medical Examiner. “What do we know about the victim, Muriel?”

  “Not too much yet. But they should have found out something by now. Charlie!”

  After a few seconds, a heavyset man in a worn corduroy suit lumbered into the garage. “You bellowed, Muriel?”

  She chuckled. “You’re the only one who isn’t scared of me. Why is that?”

  “Unlike some of these cave men, I think you actually know what you’re doing, even if you don’t have a penis.”

  Muriel grinned. “You always say the nicest things. What have you got for us on the vic?”

  Charlie pulled out a small notebook and flipped it open. “Guy’s name is Peter Peters.”

  Muriel rolled her eyes. “Cut the crap, Charlie.”

  His mouth quirked up a bit. “Honest, I’m not making it up. His parents need to be smacked upside the head a couple times. According to the neighbors, he’s been living here for two years. He was, and I quote ‘quiet and kept to himself.’ Why am I not surprised?”

  “Do we know if he had any recent altercations?” Jean Luc asked.

  “Nada. I’ve radioed into the station, and they’re checking the files, but nothing came up so far. No domestics. The neighbors don’t remember seeing any steady girlfriends, either.”