Forbidden Mind (Forbidden #1) Read online

  "You go now. Headmaster Higgins expects you. You get dizzy or have troubles with eye, come back. And you take it easy until eye sees better. And no jumping too. Okay?"

  I nodded and bit back a comment about how hard it would be to refrain from jumping everywhere.

  My backpack sat on the chair by the fake flowers. I hopped off the bed—oops, does that count as a jump?—grabbed it, and walked through the long corridors to the exit. Confronting Higgins always made my stomach hurt, but getting away from Mary made it worth it.

  Few people walked the corridors of the clinic. Where were all the normal personnel?

  I stopped at the front desk to sign out. Something's out of place.

  A movement caught the corner of my eye.

  A boy, about my age, tall and muscular, lay unconscious on a stretcher. I only saw a glimpse through the electric doors to the surgical area. His messy blonde hair had flecks of red in it. Dried blood. A gash ran over his forehead. As the doors closed, his eyes flashed open and held mine for one long moment.

  'Help me.'

  The mental message sent me staggering back in its ferocity. An urgent compulsion to respond overwhelmed me, a need to do as he'd asked.

  Then the boy lost consciousness. My mind cleared, and whatever had grabbed hold of me disappeared.

  Missy, an attractive, plump woman who worked the front desk, frowned. "Are you okay? Should I call the doctor?"

  "No, I'm fine. I just… head's still hurting, you know."

  She did know. Her eyes gleamed with sympathy. I'd always liked her. She baked us cookies from time to time, and kept her blond hair in a messy bun held together with random pencils. I'd tried it once on my hair, but couldn't make it stay put.

  "Missy, who was that boy they were wheeling in? He looked hurt, but I don't recognize him."

  Not many kids lived on the huge estate. We all knew each other, at least by sight. The memory of his persuasive presence in my mind had me unnerved in ways I couldn't explain. My body betrayed the anxiety with sweaty palms and a racing heart.

  Missy avoided my eyes, something a lot of people did unintentionally, thinking it would keep me from reading their minds.

  'She shouldn't have seen that… hope she doesn't say anything… I could get in trouble… don't want her to get in trouble either… sweet girl.'

  "Oh, don't worry about him, love. Now you'd better be going. Headmaster Higgins doesn't like to be kept waiting."

  "Of course. Have a good day, Missy."

  Her face relaxed. "You too, Sam."

  The sun felt ten shades brighter than normal outside the double glass doors. I pulled my sunglasses out of my backpack and walked the winding trails through campus. The warmth calmed me, but not enough to erase the effects of that strange boy and his compelling mind.

  Near the main offices, a group of kids ran by in gym uniforms. One petite girl fell out of line to throw herself into a hug.

  "Lucy!" I laughed and hugged her back just as fiercely.

  "Where have you been, chica? And what the hell happened to your face?"

  Lucy, even in gym clothes, could cause a riot with her curvy figure, smooth brown skin, and long, dark Spanish hair.

  "Lucy, let's go!" Luke, her twin brother, waved at me as he called his sister. He matched her in the looks department, though he stood a head taller than us both. They fell behind their class. "Hey, Sam, meet us tonight, K?"

  "Sure thing." I pushed Lucy away. "Go, I'll see you later. I have to get to the office."

  "Fine, but I want details."

  She ran off, her ponytail swinging down her back. The rules didn't allow us to share the details of our assignments with anyone, not even other paranormals. But Luke, Lucy and I had been best friends since we could remember, and we found ways to communicate without technically breaking those rules.

  I walked on, my mind drifting. Oh, Tommy. How I wished I could have told him the truth, told him everything about my life.

  Rich buildings full of personality and character rose up along the road, like living on the set of the movie, "X-Men." Tommy would have enjoyed the comparison, except we didn't really know anything about this organization. Not even its real name. We'd dubbed it Rent-A-Kid as a joke. "That place where paranormal kids are rented out to the highest bidder," was a bit of a mouthful.

  What would Tommy have said if he'd known who I really was? It made me sad to think about.

  I shook off my melancholy and entered the headmaster's office.

  He didn't stand, or even look up at me, when his secretary ushered me into his office. Just stared down at his oh-so-important papers.

  She closed the door, and I settled into one of the chairs in front of his desk, taking off my sunglasses reluctantly. My face would further condemn my actions. After a moment, he looked up.

  "Ah, Sam, you look wretched. How are you feeling?"

  Not the opening I had expected. "Bit of a headache. I'll be okay."

  He already had the oral briefing, but I followed standard procedure and placed my report on his desk.

  He flipped through it, then shuffled the papers that had consumed his attention a moment ago, and placed them neatly in his filing drawer.

  I fidgeted with the zipper on my backpack. This office was too meticulous, from the always clean and empty trashcan, to the perfectly placed pens and pencils. The deep mahoganies and burgundies of the room matched the dark man with the expensive suit who sat looking at me from behind the oversized desk. Higgins didn't have to work at intimidation. His size and bearing did that for him—tall, well-built and in his 50s. Gray temples added to his image. I didn't love the man, but we got along well enough.

  "You know that stunt you pulled could have gotten this entire organization in trouble," he said.

  "I know. And I wish I could say I'm sorry, but you don't know what he was thinking, what Beaumont was going to do to that girl. And other girls. Honestly, this is the biggest creep I've ever met. I had to make sure he didn't get away."

  "You've always been one of our best. Never making trouble. This is your first problem, so I'm going to let it slide. But this is a once-in-a-lifetime freebie. Any more trouble and I won't be so nice."

  "I know." My whole body relaxed, releasing the tension I hadn't been aware I carried.

  "Good. Well, I have some exciting news for you."

  Oh?

  "You've been accepted into Sarah Lawrence College." He pulled out an official-looking letter and handed it to me.

  "Oh my God, really? What last name did I get? How did you create an identity for me?"

  I checked the letter. Dear Sam Smith, It is our pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted to the undergraduate visual art program at Sarah Lawrence College….

  "Smith? That was the best you could do?" I laughed, clutching the letter. We didn't come with last names. They gave us those on assignment. But they also promised, once we turned eighteen, that we'd be able go anywhere and do anything, fully funded by Rent-A-Kid. This letter represented my entire future.

  "It's a good name. It's very common and doesn't draw attention to you. All the things you want when you finally enter that life."

  "It's fine, I'll take it. Thank you, Headmaster Higgins."

  "You're welcome, Sam. You deserve it. You've been one of our best and brightest students. We'll be sad to see you go. That reminds me," he pulled out another file, "this job just came in, and I think you'd be perfect for it."

  He handed me the brief. I flipped through it: infiltrate a prep school clique of famous rich kids and get dirt on their parents. Oh God. I so did not want this job.

  "But I just got back! And you promised that was my last assignment before I left. I have to pack and complete my studies. I want to spend time with my friends."

  "You have a few weeks before you need to leave. It shouldn't take you long, and it will give you some extra cash for your new life. I'm throwing in a $10,000 bonus if you complete this assignment without any problems."

  T
hat sold me. Mostly. Not that I could turn down a job, but Higgins always tried to make sure we participated willingly.

  "Ok, I'll do it."

  He smiled, but didn't look the least bit surprised.

  I often had fun on assignments, but they wore me out. All that mind reading gave me headaches. I thought they were done, that I'd be free, but I could handle one more. Especially with so much to look forward to.

  Lucy and Luke would turn eighteen a few months after me and would be joining me in New York. We had our whole lives planned, starting with an apartment and college.

  He took out an envelope and handed it to me. Cash for my last job.

  "There's $500. Don't spend it all in one place. The rest has been deposited into your bank account."

  Right. Almost all my money went into savings I would get access to when I left. I'd gone on a few assignments every month since I was twelve. That added up to a pretty nice nest egg for my 'retirement.'

  "Go ahead and take today off. You can start getting caught up tomorrow."

  I nodded gratefully and shoved the money and folder with my next assignment into my backpack. Does he know anything about the boy on the stretcher? Maybe—

  Missy's thoughts stopped me. I didn't know why he was such a secret, but I didn't want to get her in trouble.

  On my way out, I slipped into Higgins's mind to see if anything relevant popped up.

  'Must keep her busy… time is running out… so much to do… hope this works… boy very useful… good genes… best yet.'

  Hmmm… what did he mean? Keep me busy? Sure, I'd be leaving soon, but what did he hope would work? And what about the boy's genes? Was he talking about my boy?

  No. Mystery boy was not my boy, and I had no intention of getting into any trouble my last few months here. Just play it straight and do your job, Sam. You've been accepted into Sarah Lawrence. Don't blow it all by worrying about some strange boy.

  So I put my sunglasses back on and focused my thoughts on more pressing concerns. Like food.

  My body wanted to go straight to my room and crash, but my stomach had other plans. I headed to The Hub, the center of our little town on campus, and picked a seat outside my favorite cafe.

  I already had my sketchpad and pencils out when the waitress, Tina, came to take my order. An older woman with a slight shuffle to her walk, she always smelled of peppermint and cigarettes.

  "Hey, Sam, you want the regular?"

  I nodded and returned to my sketchpad. I'd been drawing for as long as I could remember, and could reproduce nearly anything in great detail.

  Tina brought me my Chai Latte and chocolate crepe, as I added detail to my charcoal sketch of The Hub. Stark lines represented students, while dark shades filled in the buildings and shrubbery that framed the main sidewalk through the center.

  I caught the edge of the charged fences that spanned the perimeter of the property, using fast, thin strokes to capture the 'live' feeling of it. Our cafeteria, little shops, clothing stores, fast food joints, and even a movie theater, went into the sketch, capturing my entire world on one page. My entire world? Depressing.

  A girl on a bike crashed into a couple holding hands on the path. They had stopped to look at something. I memorized the scene and planned to add it to this piece. No one had cars. We all learned to drive and had chances to practice in a special section of school, but we walked or biked everywhere on campus. At least the paths were beautiful, with well-placed bushes, flowers and trees.

  It was too perfect, like living in a magazine. I tried to capture that manicured perfection in my work, often using lacquer later to give it a high gloss look.

  When the smell of the crepe became too much, I set aside my art and enjoyed the burst of sweet chocolate filling, the delicious blend of spices, and my tea. My fuzzy mouth finally turned normal.

  I paid for my order and walked back to my room, ready to unpack, shower, and find my friends.

  Chapter 3

  Luke walked through my door to wake me up. He'd have been toast if my para-power included super strength or kickass reactions. Instead, he got to suffer through my whining. He probably would have preferred the fight.

  He unlocked my door from the inside and let Lucy in, then closed and locked the door again. "Okay, Sam, spill it."

  Luke pulled my covers off me and crawled into my double bed next to me. Lucy joined him on the other side. How the hottest guy at school could be immune to Mary's powers was a mystery to us, and a never-ending source of frustration for her. Unfortunately, his brotherly vibes extended to me as well as Lucy. I couldn't see him as romance material. Pity.

  "I mouthed off to a client, and he punched me."

  Their eyebrows shot up in comical unison. Luke glanced at Lucy, and she nodded her head. "She's telling the truth, more or less. But she's definitely not telling us the whole story."

  "Hey, quit reading me!" I lightly punched Lucy on the shoulder. Having a best friend who could tell when someone withheld something or lied didn't always work in my favor. I pulled my red comforter over my head, as if that would keep her out of my secrets. No such luck.

  "Sam, what's going on?" Lucy's voice lost its playfulness. "You seem troubled, and you've never talked back to a client before. Not even that guy who kept undressing you with his mind, and then dressing you back up in his wife's lingerie."

  I'd forgotten about him. He was a real winner too. No one should ever have to see themselves naked in the mind of a pervert. I shivered at the memory and mentally closed my third eye to shut out the experience.

  "Tell us." Luke spoke our secret language, the one we created as children so we could talk without other kids spying on us. It had evolved over the years to include thousands of words. So I told them everything—about the assignment, the molester, Tommy, Mary at the hospital.

  "She's such a bitch," Luke said.

  Gotta love Luke.

  Lucy eyed me, no doubt waiting for the rest of the story. I scowled at her, but finally relented. I told them about the boy on the stretcher.

  "Sam, you cannot get involved in whatever that is. You know that, right?" Lucy adopted the rigid face of Mrs. Kellerbuckle, the eighth-grade taskmaster at Rent-A-Kid. It was usually funny when she did that. This time, not so much.

  "Yeah, I'm not. It was just weird, is all."

  She shook her head. "Not totally the truth, though I think you believe your own lie at the moment. Just promise me you'll talk to us before doing anything stupid?"

  "I promise."

  Before they could start on me again, I slid over Luke and put in our favorite movie, "X-Men," and we settled in to some mindless entertainment. I pretended to ignore the voice in the back of my head that spoke of things best left forgotten.

  ~~~

  All eyes were on me the next day at school, with the rumor mill full of juicy tidbits about my black eye. I kept my sunglasses on and hid behind Luke as often as possible.

  When I bumped into him for the fifth time, he turned to face me. "Sam, I love you, and I know you're embarrassed, but if you bump me again, I'm going to have to walk through a wall to make it to class on time. Got it?"

  I nodded and mumbled an apology. He softened and put an arm around me.

  Lucy flanked me on the other side. "It doesn't look that bad. Honest."

  "I don't need to be able to read minds or tell when someone is lying to know that's a big fat one."

  She squeezed my shoulder. "Well, chica, it could be worse. And it will get better. You should just ignore it and go on like everything is normal. People are only staring because you're acting so weird about it."

  She's probably right. But with a mild case of OCD, I couldn't resist popping into people's minds as we walked down the halls to English.

  'Wonder what happened to her?'… 'Heard she got punched by a client.'… 'Looks painful.'… 'She must have really screwed up.'… 'I wonder if Higgins punished her.'… 'I heard she got into a fight with a new kid… and he's been in the infirmary ever since.
'

  That last thought stopped me. Were they thinking of my mystery boy? I searched the crowd of teenagers to see who'd thought that, probing minds as I did. Everyone rushed to get books out of lockers and head to their next class before the bell rang. I couldn't pinpoint the person, but it gave me hope.

  Lucy pulled me along. "What's the matter? We're going to be late."

  "Sorry, just caught a stray thought that bothered me."

  "Don't worry about what people are saying, or thinking. You'll be old news in no time flat. Besides, you won't even be here much longer, and none of this will matter."

  No more thoughts came up about the boy. When Lucy and Luke left me, I just ignored everyone, hid in the bathroom, and applied another layer of cover-up to my bruise. It was no use. My hiding place became a trap set by Mary and her pack.

  "If it isn't the little kiss-ass hiding in the bathroom. What? Afraid you might scare the younger kids with your new look?"

  I backed away from Mary, fear of conflict once again ruling me. But something snapped in me. The small fire that had started when I stood up to my client now flamed to life. I stepped forward, for the first time invading Mary's personal space, and stared her in the eyes, so close her breath crawled over my skin. Power flooded me and I finally felt in control. This dwarfed even the rush I'd felt by the pool.

  "What is your problem, Mary? Honestly, what do you gain by tormenting me? Does it stroke your fragile self esteem? Are you so pathetic that only hurting other people makes you feel better? Do you really think that makes you hot shit?"

  I didn't wait for her to reply. "Well, you know what, I don't really care anymore. Say what you want, it makes no difference."

  Her eyes narrowed and her mouthed dropped open. Not the response she'd expected.

  Her two lackeys held onto frozen sneers, waiting to see what would happen.

  "And here's a tip for you. Don't mess with a girl who reads minds. I can pull out every thought you've ever had. What do you think I'll find if I do that? I can tell you what everyone else thinks of you too. Do you think the guys at this school really like you? That your powers make real feelings? You're fooling yourself, Mary, but no one else." My voice sounded ugly, nothing like the real me—at least, the me I'd always imagined. Yet the raw righteousness of it, of feeding her the bile she always spewed at us, was like peeling off an itchy scab.