I tried to smile, for her sake, but the smile didn't reach my eyes.
Luke rubbed my head as if I were his pet dog. "Where's this painting I've been hearing so little about?"
I swatted his hand and couldn't suppress a small, but genuine, smile. Luke could always cheer me: funny, gorgeous, and so much like a brother it sucked.
"Over here." The canvas draped over my painting appeared undisturbed. A sigh of relief escaped me. At least nothing had happened to it. "Close your eyes."
They both groaned but did as told.
Fear and nervousness buzzed through me as I pulled the canvas off. What if they hated it? What if everyone hated it and my dreams of being a real artist died before they could even be born? My lungs clenched with stale breath and I exhaled before I got too dizzy. "Okay, you can look."
They stood there, jaws dropped, stunned into silence. They either hated it or totally loved it.
"Um, is this a bad or good silence?"
Lucy pulled her mouth closed and swallowed before she spoke. "O.M.G. Sam, this is the most incredible, unbelievable thing I've ever seen in my life. You painted this?"
"You like it?"
Her mental voice slammed into me. 'Would I lie to you? It's amazing!'
Relief flooded me even as I laughed at her joke. I could read minds, sure, but she was the human lie detector. No one dared lie to her.
Luke hugged me and whispered into my ear, "I'm so proud of you, Sam. This is truly epic!"
We stood there staring for several minutes. This painting represented so much about me, my life, my future... everything. I hated to leave it even for a minute, but my stomach protested its neglect with a loud rumble.
Luke grabbed my hand. "Come on, let's feed you. My treat."
With the buzz of success filling me, and Luke's hand in mine, I entertained a what-if. What if I could get past the whole brother thing with Luke? I took in his tall, well-defined frame, his dark hair and bright blue eyes. Gorgeous inside and out, but... nothing. No spark at all. Such a pity. Of all the guys at school, he was the only one I could even imagine being with, but I couldn't force the chemistry and neither could he.
We walked to dinner hand in hand, and I consoled myself with the fact that I had the best friends a girl could want. Not a bad consolation prize after all, and worth a hundred boyfriends.
Chapter 2 – Sam
The Hub occupied prime real estate in the middle of campus and offered the only thing that passed for excitement at our school. On such a beautiful day, every shop and cafe was open for business. The Hub was our little town, the only place we had to buy clothes, food, knickknacks and whatever else we needed. If a store didn't have what we wanted, they'd order it.
We walked down the tree-lined sidewalks and looked for a restaurant that had space for us. Three girls from my math class were just getting up to leave as we approached The Bistro, a fun deli that served the best meatball subs. We snagged the table and settled in for a much needed meal.
The waitress took our order promptly, probably trying to get people in and out as quickly as possible for more tips. Luke sipped his soda with over-the-top slurping noises.
"Honestly, you are such a pig, Luke."
He threw his wadded-up straw paper at me. "Whatcha gonna do about it, pip squeak?"
I stuck my tongue out at him, then settled into a sulk, arms crossed over my chest. "What am I going to do if Higgins pulls me from the contest?"
Lucy's brown eyes blazed with fire. "He wouldn't dare! You've worked too hard for that. And Mr. K won't let him pull you. I think he'd crawl across sharp glass all the way to New York with your painting strapped to his back if he had to, just to make sure you were entered. Honestly, I think the only reason he still teaches here is because of you."
"He does seem really unhappy. Why do you think he hates it here so much?" I looked around at the palatial grounds and happy students strolling the streets. We had everything we could ever need. Sure, it got boring and lonely sometimes, but the occasional assignment to places all over the world kept things interesting and made coming home a nice change of pace. Why would he want to leave?
Our meals arrived, and talking ceased as we all took big bites of our sandwiches.
The warm meatballs and toasted honey and oat bread had never tasted better, and filling my stomach helped settle the shaky energy of too much caffeine the last two days.
Lucy talked through a mouth full of roasted turkey breast. "Who knows, but it's not so crazy, is it? I mean how badly do we want to leave?"
"That's different. We all have para-powers that make us vulnerable in the real world, and make some of us dangerous. We're here to learn to control our powers and to protect us from those who might exploit us. We have no choice, at least until we turn eighteen and are finally free."
Lucy rolled her eyes. "We all know the company line, Sam."
The waitress came and refilled our drinks, and I used the interruption to organize my thoughts and take another bite of my sandwich.
Out of habit, I peeked into the waitress's mind and smirked. 'So sexy... wish I could get him to notice me... wish we were allowed to date the students....'
When she left I kicked Luke under the table. "You're charming the ladies and don't even know it." I nodded toward the waitress.
He puffed up his chest and raised a "how you doin'" eyebrow. "Girls just can't help but appreciate all that I have to offer. And who can blame them, really?"
"Yes, such a ladies' man. Anyways, I know it's not easy for our teachers. It's just... as far as schools go, they've got it pretty good. I mean, we've all had to go to other schools while on assignment, and they suck compared to this. The teachers are miserable, underpaid and overworked, and there are too many students per classroom. Here he gets state-of-the-art equipment, any kind of supplies he wants, and an incredible studio. Why leave?"
Luke paused from inhaling his bacon burger long enough to respond. "True. Some of those schools are scary. Don't know how anyone learns anything. But who knows? Maybe he just doesn't like how secluded we are or that he has to keep secrets about where he works and what he does. I doubt any teacher here has much of a life off campus, ya know?"
I finished my last bite of sandwich and wiped the extra marinara sauce off my lips with a napkin. "I'm going to go talk to Higgins. I can't lose this chance."
Lucy picked a stray piece of turkey from her plate and plopped it into her mouth. "Do you want us to come? Moral support? Back up? Whatever?"
"Nah, you two need showers after all your sparring. I'll be okay. When I'm done I'll find you in your suite."
Luke left money for our dinner and the tip, and they walked back to the dorms while I headed to Higgins's office. Normally he took the weekends off, but I had a suspicion he'd be there today. The main offices took up the northwest corner of campus, shaped like a square, and surrounded by an electrified fence and a brick wall with tall trees cloaking the outside.
We'd gone off school grounds on field trips for survival training, and while I didn't know what state we were in—or even what country—I did know that we were surrounded by woods. Lots of woods. My guess? Our locale felt distinctly North American, though I couldn't pinpoint exactly why. The weather made me think Pacific Northwest, or Midwest, with the seasonal changes and landscape.
I walked past the gate that served as the only entrance or exit on campus and waved at the guard, Old Charlie, a staple at Rent-A-Kid who always treated us well. He smiled and waved back. He looked harmless, but he'd done some demonstrations for us in martial arts. Even Luke and Lucy, who put my sad excuse for combat skills to shame, bowed to his ninja ways. It had always made me feel safe, knowing Old Charlie was standing guard, protecting us from anyone who might discover our secret location and cause us harm.
The shadows of twilight cloaked the offices, and none of the lights inside appeared to be on. I turned the knob, relieved to find it unlocked, and let myself in.
Higgins's voice carried from his of
fice—no responses, so he must have been on the phone.
I opened my mind and pressed into his thoughts.
'Damage control... Must contain this situation before it gets to the top... Damn Krevner, should never have hired him... Always has been a renegade... What to tell Sam?'
When he hung up, I knocked on his door.
"Who is it?"
"It's Sam. Can I talk to you?"
'Crap! Not ready to deal with her.' "Can this wait?"
"Um, not really. Can I come in?"
'Damn Krevner.' "Sure, come on in."
Higgins's office, normally so meticulous, from the always clean and empty trashcan to the perfectly placed pens and pencils, was surprisingly messy. Crumpled papers covered his desk, his suit jacket slouched in a pile on the floor like a deflated man, and his tie hung down his chest at an odd angle, as if he'd been pulling at it. He ran his hands through his greying hair, and I could see his toned muscles flex under his shirt. For someone in his fifties, he was pretty cut.
"Sam, I'm actually glad you came. I have an assignment for you."
This was unexpected. "Headmaster Higgins, I really can't go on assignment right now. I have the art contest to prep for, an interview with Sarah Lawrence coming up, and homework. I'm swamped."
'What do I do about this damn art contest? How do I get out of this?'
"You know I can read your mind, right? I also overheard you and Mr. K screaming at each other. Actually, I'm surprised the whole school didn't hear. You can't pull me from the contest. I have to be in it! I've worked so hard on this painting, and if I win, Sarah Lawrence is guaranteed. So is my career."
He nervously shuffled his hands back and forth, then put them on his lap when he saw me looking. "I'm sorry, Sam, but it's too much exposure for the school. We have to keep a low profile to keep you all safe. How do we explain who you are or where you're from if you win?"
Tightness formed in my chest. "You create believable false identities for us every time we leave this campus. Why can't you use my new identity, the one I'll be using at Sarah Lawrence? I'm assuming their admissions department has some fake history for me there, right? So I become her, whoever she is, and I take on that role like any other assignment. It doesn't seem like it would be that hard."
"I'll give it some thought and see what we can do, okay? But only if you agree to take this assignment. It just came in. It's an important client and it has your name, and para-power, written all over it."
He scooted a file across the desk and I flipped through it while he gave me a verbal briefing. "Henry Dollinger needs dirt on his business partner, Ronald Beaumont, so he can force a buy-out and take control of the company. He knows Beaumont is hiding something, but can't figure out what."
"You want me to crack open his mind and dig out his secrets."
Higgins's chair squeaked as he sat back. "Yes. You leave on Tuesday. We're putting together your identity now."
"What? My interview with Sarah Lawrence is on Friday. I'll never have enough time to get there, do this job and get back."
"It shouldn't take you that long to get what you need. And while you're gone, I'll do everything I can to keep you in the art contest. Deal?"
I'd never turned down an assignment before, and I was within my rights to do so now, but the potential consequences scared me. At the very least, I'd lose all chance of being in the contest.
Even as my head nodded yes, my gut screamed no. Everything about this felt off.
"Oh, and I'll be sending a guard with you."
"Why?" I scratched at the hidden tracking device in my upper arm. "You always know where I am. It's not like I can get lost or kidnapped."
"It's not that. Another organization has formed, a group bent on destroying anyone with para-powers. They've killed several teens and children in random attacks. I just want to make sure you're safe."
My heart skipped a beat. I knew that kids with para-powers were at risk without Rent-A-Kid, but not that someone was aggressively attacking, and killing, them. Still, a guard?
"How will I explain it?"
"It's part of your cover. You're the daughter of Dollinger's college roommate. Your father is powerful and has enemies, and your life has been threatened. You're staying with Dollinger, under guard, while your family deals with the threats."
I nodded. "Makes sense. Okay, I'll go on Tuesday, but I need to be back by Thursday. It's important."
"We'll be ready to retrieve you when you complete the mission. Now, if there's nothing else...."
I knew a dismissal when I heard one.
While leaving the office, I slipped back into his mind, but he blocked me by silently reciting Shakespeare sonnets over and over.
What was Higgins afraid of thinking? What did he not want me to know?
My gut tightened.
Chapter 3 – Drake
Warm rays of sun beat down on Drake's back as he leaned over his board. He waited—one breath, then another, inhaling and exhaling to the pulse of the ocean, each swell matching the beat of his heart. All thought, all anger, and all distraction fled in the tranquility of the Pacific, the only place that could bring him peace. He found his God here, his religion. Not even Father Patrick's pews could compete.
The wave approached, and Drake, one with it, stood on his board and sliced through the tide. He balanced on the edge of the world, no longer affected by the push and pull of the needy masses. Sprays of saltwater splashed his face—a baptism for a man who belonged nowhere.
A tingle of dread broke through his zone. It started in his spine and worked its way up his back. He felt sinister eyes on him.
Drake never used his powers while surfing; he didn't need to. But now, he broke his own rule and snaked his mind over the water and to the beach, seeking the person who didn't belong. Nothing felt out of the ordinary, but the break in concentration stole the joy from his meditation.
Anger boiled in his blood, unwilling to be cooled by the water. He turned his board toward the sand and rode back to shore, scanning as he did for anyone paying too much attention to him.
Kylie the Beach Bunny scampered up to him and threw her slender arms around his neck as he shrugged out of his wetsuit. "You looked so hot out there, Drakey. Did you come back for some fun in the sun?" Her lips sought his, but he pulled away.
"Not now, Kylie. I have to get going. Did you see anyone around the beach watching me, or anyone who looked suspicious?"
Her painted, puckered lips turned down in confusion. "No, why? Let's go get a drink and maybe go back to my place if you're done here. I can take your mind off whatever is worrying you. Did you get my text messages and voicemails? I even came by your place but you weren't home. I've missed you." She ran a finger down his wet chest, tracing a drop of water to his navel.
He pulled her hand away. "I said, not now." He added just a bit of compulsion to his voice, using his mind to nudge hers. A vacant expression crossed through her blue eyes then disappeared. He hadn't really controlled her mind; he'd just given it extra encouragement so he could get rid of her without a scene.
Another trickle of foreboding crawled over his shoulders. Goose bumps formed on his arms and he shivered despite the heat.
Kylie frowned, but said nothing else as she walked away, her long, tanned and very exposed body attracting the admiring glances of every man on the beach.
Drake didn't care.
Another, more powerful pricking alerted him to danger. He whipped his head around in time to see a figure in black slip into a car parked in the lot, and drive away.
***
Before anyone else could stop him, Drake grabbed his towel and board and walked the few blocks through the streets of Venice Beach back to his apartment.
His best friend Brad was still asleep, probably up late again—writing, trying to become a famous journalist, but getting stuck with Crime Watch and Feature Obits.
Drake showered, dressed and started a breakfast of bacon and eggs.
Percolating coffe
e and the smell of frying food finally convinced Brad to join the land of the living. "Dude, you get up way too freaking early."
"You sleep in way too freaking late. On this, we will just have to agree to disagree. Eat some bacon." Drake pushed a plateful of food in front of Brad.
"Thanks, man. How were the waves this morning? You ready for the West Coast Championships?" Brad shoveled breakfast into his mouth.
Drake considered how much he should reveal about his unnerving morning. "I think I'm being watched."
This put a halt to the eating. "Oh, man, I told you this was a bad idea. You need to keep a low profile, dude. Stick to teaching surfing lessons to wannabes, but don't enter an international surfing competition with major media coverage. What if someone finds you?"
The small two-bedroom apartment they shared felt even smaller. Drake fought the urge to escape back into his ocean, but even that holy place had been violated.
He put his dishes in the sink and paced the living room, staring at the stains in the brown carpet. Their bachelor pad wouldn't impress many women, but it kept Drake close to the beach and Brad close to the newspaper he worked for. A happy compromise.
"This is important to me, you know that. I can't spend my life as a beach bum teaching surfing. I want so much more than that. I could get sponsors and surf for a living."
He sighed and sank into the living room chair. A pile of bills taunted him from the coffee table. He shuffled through them, then held them up as evidence. "Phone bills, rent, power, car insurance... by the time I finish paying these every month, I have nothing left. I can't live like this, man."
Brad frowned. "I know what it's like. I'm in the same boat. You'll find a way."
Drake slammed his fist into the table. "No, you're not. You're in a boat going somewhere. You have dreams, ambition, and a way of making it happen. You have family who give a crap about you. What do I have? A shady past, a string of foster parents who only wanted me for the money, and one skill that I can actually use in public. I'm in a sinking boat. I have to find a way to make my life matter. Don't you get that?"
The Forbidden Trilogy Page 2
