No matter how many times I'd been drugged, I still woke up in a slight panic. My body maintained no sense of how long it had been. My subconscious mind had been shut out—definitely the worst part of any assignment.
Wait....
Mary lay in the bed next to mine. That sucked worse.
She sneered at me from behind her blond hair. "Well, look who finally woke up. Took you long enough. Had some trouble, huh? Is Higgins's pet turning rebel?"
"What do you want, Mary?" Though sick of her games, ignoring her would only inspire her to greater taunts.
"Nothing. Just waiting on the good doctor, like you."
I slipped into her mind, like being stuck in the poisonous trap of a viper. 'Thinks she's so great... not that great... not even as pretty as everyone thinks... tits too small... and look at that black eye... looks like she finally screwed up... hope she gets what's coming to her... she's just a goody two-shoes... little priss.'
Well, nothing new there. Did she ever have any other kind of thought?
I raised myself on the bed. The world spun just a little through my swollen eyes. Fake flowers in artificially bright colors stood on the table by the window, a futile attempt to cheer up the dreary grey walls and fluorescently lit room.
The tiny Dr. Sato walked into the room. "Ah, Sam, Mary, you both wake. Good," she said with a soft voice.
Why is she nervous?
Her pronounced Japanese accent, stronger than usual, gave away her unease. "How you feeling?"
I stretched my arms and moved my neck around to work out the kinks. The inside of my mouth reeked. "Fine, just a bit of a headache." Probably brought on by my roommate. Well, and the black eye.
"And you, Mary?" she asked.
"I feel wonderful." Mary crossed her long legs seductively and purred. Her slinky silver gown showed off more than it covered. Who the hell was she trying to impress in here? Her para-power to seduce couldn't claim any new victims in the absence of heterosexual men.
Dr. Sato took my blood pressure, checked my temperature, and examined my eyes and cheek. "You bruised. Bone hurts, but you be better soon. Just no jumping."
Again with the nervousness.
I slipped into her mind but met only gibberish, having never had a chance to learn her particular dialect. It unnerved me—nothing clear, as if I'd lost my hearing or eyesight. Normally, the images that filled her mind were of her homeland or the clinic, benign and useless to me.
Today I felt terror coming off her, and saw a flash of a man with a gold tooth leaning over an unconscious girl.
"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 book bag 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 while processing Dr. Sato's dark thoughts. 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 surgery. 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."
I opened the door to leave the clinic, but stopped when I noticed Dr. Sato in the hall talking with a new doctor I didn't recognize. Her face squinted in anger and her arms flailed about as she made her point. He looked even angrier and spoke to her in a low, mean voice, and took a step forward, his hand held up in a way that made me flinch in fear for her.
I slipped into his mind and—something shoved me out and slammed the door! My head pounded like it had been pummeled with an anvil. That had never happened before. The doctor looked at me and his rage melted into a smile, a gleam of gold tooth shining from his mouth. My insides turned to Jell-O as his aura seduced me into complacency, but then the urgent plea for help from Mystery Boy pushed out the unwelcome intrusion. The doctor had some kind of para-power, and he was immune to mine.
Shock flooded my system. And fear. No one had ever been immune to my mind-reading. A trail of dread crawled up my spine and wound itself around my heart.
I fled to the comfort of the outdoors.
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, my body still shaking from both unusual encounters. The warmth calmed me, but not enough to erase the effects of that strange boy and his compelling mind, not to mention the creepy doctor.
***
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?"
Even in gym clothes, my best friend could cause a riot with her curvy figure, smooth brown skin, and long, dark Spanish hair.
"Lucy, let's go!" Luke waved at me as he called his sister. They fell behind their class. "Hey, Sam, meet us tonight, okay? We need to talk." His face pinched in a frown.
"Sure thing." I pushed Lucy away. "Go, I'll see you later. I have to get to the office."
"Fine, but I want details. And we really do need to talk."
She ran off, her ponytail swinging down her back. Though tempted to spy on her mind to find out what had both of them so upset, I needed to get to Higgins's office. Besides, I'd see them later, and could fill them in on my adventures. 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—like a secret language I'd created several years ago.
I walked on, my mind drifting. Oh, Tommy. How I wished I could have told him the truth, told him everything about my life.
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 and reluctantly took off my sunglasses. 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. I'd been given time before the drugs to complete my written report on the plane, and I placed that 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 book bag. I wanted to ask about the art contest, and the interview, but I didn't dare jump the gun after involving the Feds in my assignment and threatening a client.
"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 causing problems. This is your first mistake, 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? But how? I haven't even had the interview yet?"
"I called in a favor. I wasn't sure if you'd be back in time and I didn't want you to miss out on this chance at your dreams. Based on the portfolio you sent in, a nudge from me and a glowing evaluation from Mr. Krevner, they agreed to let you in without the required interview."
I stared down at the fancy parchment paper, unable to fully digest the news. 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 that represented my entire future.
"It's a good name. It's 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: two kids with para-powers had been beaten and nearly killed at a prep school in New York. I needed to infiltrate the school and see if any other paranormals attended. I also needed to track down the perpetrators. Not so bad. At least I'd be in New York and helping kids like me—but, wait. Oh God. I so do not want this job.
"Mary? You're sending me off with Mary? You've got to be kidding me. She's horrible. And what's she supposed to do, seduce the teachers? I can handle this alone, or send Lucy with me. She's great at these kinds of assignments. Anyone but Mary."
"I'm sorry, Sam, but Mary has some unique skills that could come in handy, especially as it's likely that one of the leaders is a man. You'll need her with you."
"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, and there's the art contest!"
"You have a few months 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."
"That doesn't help with my art contest. I don't have time to do this and prepare."
Higgins looked down at his desk, shoulders slumped.
Uh-oh.
'How to tell her.... Will break her heart.... Wish I could skip this.'
"Tell me what?"
He looked me in the eyes, the way a doctor looks at someone whose loved one has died.
"I have some bad news. There was an accident in the art building while you were gone. There's a lot of flammable material there and—we don't know what happened yet, but somehow... a fire started. Sam—"
"No! Stop. This is insane. I don't want to hear this."
"Sam, your painting. I'm so sorry."
I grabbed my book bag and ran out his door and toward the art studio. I heard the headmaster follow me but didn't turn to acknowledge him. I had to see the damage for myself.
On the outside, the building looked fine. A small sigh of relief escaped my lips. Surely it couldn't be that bad. Maybe I'd have to repair some smoke damage or something, but I could handle that. Mr. K would help me.
I moved aside a yellow ribbon that marked the building as unsafe and walked into the dimly lit studio.
And stopped breathing.
The inside of the building had been gutted and turned to ash. I choked on a strangled cry.
Higgins put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sam. Nothing survived."
The remains of my painting stood in the corner. I examined the charred bits that had been my greatest work and couldn't stop the tears from flowing.
Higgins tried again to comfort me, but I pushed him away. "Where's Mr. K?"
"Sam, let's just go back to my office and talk about this."
Panic stirred in my heart. I raised my voice in desperation. "Where's Mr. K?"
"He quit. After the fire, he couldn't stand to be here anymore, and he left. He's gone, Sam, and won't be coming back."
"No, that can't be true. He'd never leave me, not without saying goodbye. Not before I graduated. You're lying. What did you do? Where is he?" I ran through the studio, searching for my mentor, but no sign remained of him. All traces of his work, his passion, his presence—gone.
I sank to my knees and sobbed. Everything I'd ever created, all of my artistic expression, had been housed in this studio. My entire portfolio was gone, just like Mr. K. Destroyed. I only had some pictures of the best pieces, but almost none of the originals. My entire life's work to date.
"I need to be alone."
Higgins left me without a word and I cried into the ash.
