The Forbidden Trilogy(5)

"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.