Live and Let Psi Page 11

  “So, that’s where I get my stubbornness,” I said. “Andy trained me. He’s a bad influence.”

  “No, you inherited that from me,” Dad said. “It’s in our blood.”

  “Dad, I’m adopted.”

  “So?” Susie said. “You’re my sister. We have the same blood.”

  “That’s right,” Mom said. “You are my baby girl the same as Susie is. Never forget it.”

  I wiped a tear away and wrapped my arms around my mom.

  Susie said, “Remember me, the chopstick?” and wiggled herself into our hug.

  “Andy is the reason that you are the youngest Psi Fighter ever to achieve her black belt,” Mom said. “He’s also the reason you wear the mask you do.”

  “My mask? What does Andy have to do with my mask?”

  “He adored your parents. He insisted that we give you your mother’s mask when you got your black belt.”

  I was totally at a loss for words. I leaned into Mom and closed my eyes. I wore my mother’s mask. That was…

  “Are you okay, honey?”

  I squeezed Mom and Susie. “I am awesome.”

  Dad abruptly jumped out of his chair. “I just got a text from the bad influence. He needs you at the Academy. Something’s up.”

  “Back in action,” I said, leaping off the couch. “Masked, of course.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nicolaitan Sends a Message

  Andy was waiting for me when I got off the toilet. He stood silhouetted in the yellow light, and Mom’s words popped into my head.

  Bravest man my mom ever met. Yeah. I could see it.

  Almost died saving me. He would.

  My mother’s mask… Andy was one amazing person.

  I studied his face, trying to detect emotion. It had none, and his body language was silent. Bonehead. When it suited him, he was also as hard to read as a cheap office furniture assembly manual. I walked over to him and hugged him.

  “What’s that for?” Andy said, breaking into a huge smile.

  “Just because.”

  “I like just because.”

  “So, why did you take me away from my night off? We were having a moment.”

  “You’re about to have another one,” Andy said. “Dalrymple called. He wants to see us. Suit up.”

  “Cool. Wait a minute, we’re not bringing Drake with us, are we?”

  “Just you and me, kid.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “You think I don’t know where that line comes from, don’t you? If I guess, I get the driver’s seat.”

  “That was an easy one. I’ll let you drive the day you come up with a movie line that I’ve never heard.”

  “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”

  “You lose,” Andy said. “That’s not from a movie.”

  “But it’s a good line, right?”

  “Get suited and meet me in the Andymobile. Passenger seat.”

  I changed quickly and rushed to the underground chamber where the Andymobile was parked. It looked like he had made some serious cosmetic updates in the past few days. Knowing Andy’s affection for all things Elvis, I would have expected him to turn the Andymobile into a pink Cadillac. Instead, it was a cross between an Aston Martin and the Mars Rover.

  As we sped along the underground coal floor, tracks humming lightly, lights flashing like a train through a tunnel, I noticed that Andy wasn’t his normal talkative self.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” I said. “Are you constipated?”

  Andy glanced my way. “Dalrymple never calls unless there’s something terribly wrong. No matter what we learn, you can’t show any reaction. Dalrymple’s extremely perceptive. Do you understand?”

  I nodded. “He’s seen Rinnie Noelle at the police station. If I react like I do when I’m out of uniform, he might be able to tell it’s me.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Like when I freaked out a little over that Proletariat’s too-real spider mask in front of Mason.”

  “Exa— You did what?”

  “Well, you’d gone after Nicolaitan, and I was fighting for my life, which was no big deal, but then I saw that mask, and that was a big deal, and maybe I squealed a little, and maybe Mason made some silly comment about the real me, and—”

  Andy slammed on the brakes and we skidded to a stop. “The real you has got to keep her wits about her tonight. Please. The mask hides your face, but it’s up to you to hide your feelings. Why do you think the Kilodan is so emotionless?”

  “Not like he used to be. Have you noticed, he’s starting to loosen up around me a little? Sometimes, I think he might actually be human.”

  “Yeah, I’ve told him about it. He’s getting sloppy.”

  “How is that sloppy? He just trusts me.”

  “It takes more than trust for the Four to reveal their identities. You still don’t know why the Megadan told you who she is, do you?”

  “No, I’m in shock over that one. All Mrs. Bagley said is that we have work to do in our school.”

  “You do. Plenty. Okay, we’re here. All out for the trap door in Nat’s butt. Remember what I said.”

  Andy punched a button on the Andymobile and a ladder dropped down from the tunnel’s roof. I followed him up into Nathanael Greene’s hollow shell.

  “No spider webs. You must have dusted.”

  Andy grunted.

  A quick scan on Nat’s monitors showed that the park was empty, except for an unmarked police car hidden in the trees at the edge of the cemetery. We slid out the backside of the statue, hidden by the darkness, and headed toward Dalrymple.

  “Time to make an entrance,” Andy said.

  “Hey, let’s go into Shimmer then appear out of thin air,” I suggested. “We’ll make Dalrymple think we know how to apparate.”

  “How ’bout we just sneak up on him?”

  “You are so boring.”

  “It’s a gift.”

  The playground at Sinclair Park glowed in the distance, illuminated by dim floodlights. We were near the spot where Nicolaitan had tied Mason to a sarcophagus. Hidden in the shadows, Police Chief Dalrymple waited for us in an unmarked car. His pale red hair was perfectly spiked and his expression grim. Nice guy, but a bit on the cranky side. It’s a little frightening to think they let someone that grumpy carry a gun. Not that it would help him much if he encountered a Knight.

  Andy followed me as we approached Dalrymple’s car from behind. It would be cliché to say we moved like shadows, but we did. That was part of my training. I slid close to the driver’s side window. It was open, but Dalrymple stared straight ahead through the windshield. I tapped my gauntleted fingers lightly against the car door. In an instant, Dalrymple spun toward me, his gun pointing at my mask. He was fast. I was faster. I slapped his wrist and peeled the gun out of his hand.

  “Sorry,” Dalrymple said, his eyes wide, staring at his gun in my hand. “You startled me.”

  Without a word, I handed his weapon back.

  “Sweet move,” Andy said, his voice coming across my mask’s radio.

  “Thanks for coming.” Dalrymple climbed out of the patrol car and shook Andy’s hand, staring at me the entire time. “I see you have a new partner.”

  “Why did you call?” Andy asked sternly.

  “The robberies are out of control.” Dalrymple frowned. “I have patrols all over town, but we can’t stop these people. We can’t even find them. They hit, and they’re gone before we show up. Got a break last night, though. An anonymous tip. We caught one in action. Turned out it was worse than a robbery.”

  In an instant, Andy’s mask hovered inches from Dalrymple’s nose, his fury beating inside my mind like a physical blow. I couldn’t force it out.

  “You should have called last night.” Andy’s electronically altered voice drove a spike of cold fear through my heart. “Take me to him. I want an interview.”

  Dalrymple cringed and took a step back. I had forgotten how unner
ving Andy could be. I knew what he meant by “interview.” There would be very few questions.

  “He got away.” The terror had left Dalrymple’s eyes, replaced by grief. “Killed two of my best men. I have something to show you.”

  He opened the patrol car door and pulled out a small laptop. He punched a few keys, and the monitor lit up. “It’s a video from the patrol car’s dash cam.”

  I moved closer to the screen and put my mask in capture mode. The video, taken inside Sinclair Park, showed the front of the patrol car flying down the narrow road that runs through the cemetery. Tombstones flashed by as the cruiser sped along.

  Two figures appeared on the monitor, an old woman in distress and a man in a hideous mask. I recognized the decaying face instantly.

  “Enhance,” I said into my mask, turning the grainy dash cam picture to a high resolution image. I watched in horror as Nicolaitan knocked the frail-looking woman to the ground and began stomping her, methodically kicking her toward a freshly dug grave. His hyena-like laughter and her screams echoed from the hill in the background.

  The police car squealed to a halt just feet in front of them. The siren blared once then went silent. Helplessness gripped me like the jaws of a pit bull. I was overwhelmed by the sudden desire to jump into the video to protect the old woman.

  Two police officers appeared, their guns drawn. The taller of the two yelled, “Stop! Put your hands on your head! Touch her again, and I’ll shoot!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Triple Homicide

  Nicolaitan looked up slowly, apparently irritated by the interruption.

  “I said put your hands on your head!” the tall policeman yelled.

  Nicolaitan turned his rotting face toward the cop. “She’s a bad, bad girl, Mr. Policeman. If you knew what I know, you would kill her yourself.”

  “On your head!” The policeman aimed his pistol.

  Nicolaitan shrugged and held his open palm toward the woman. A loud boom split the air like thunder, and my heart stopped. The old woman flew backward, crashing into a tombstone. Her broken body rolled into the open grave. Mental Blast. Without touching her. I had no idea he was that powerful.

  Instantly, two gunshots cracked. Nicolaitan crossed his arms as though he were a corpse in a casket. Bullets ricocheted, hitting the police cruiser windshield in front of the dash cam. Before the officers could fire again, their pistols flew into Nicolaitan’s outstretched hands.

  “I’m sorry, gentlemen, no prize for a miss,” he said in the voice of a game show host. He tossed their guns back to them. “You know what they say, practice makes perfect. Try again.”

  Both officers stood still, and I got the distinct impression neither knew what had just happened. Then the tall one slowly raised his pistol, stepping toward Nicolaitan. “Munificent told me about you. We all thought you were dead.”

  I jumped. Amos Munificent, former Chief of Police. Nicolaitan had murdered him a little over a month ago. I saw it happen. I wasn’t there, but I had somehow received a memory of it.

  “I forgot all about old Amos.” Nicolaitan laughed quietly. “I suggest you do as well.”

  The policeman took aim.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Nicolaitan said, wagging a finger at the policeman.

  Cold terror distorted the officer’s face. His arms shook as the gun turned over in his hands. Panic filled his eyes as he placed the barrel under his own chin. His trigger finger strained. Sweat dripped down his face.

  “Stop it, please. Please don’t make me do this. I’ll do anything. Anything.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?” Nicolaitan said.

  The tall policeman spun and fired directly into the chest of the other cop, who dropped to the ground and didn’t move. I sucked in my breath so sharply my lungs burned. I really wished I hadn’t seen that.

  Nicolaitan sauntered like a gunslinger at high noon toward the tall policeman, laughing, hands at his hips, ready to draw guns he didn’t have. Then he cocked his masked head to one side and started dancing, waving his arms as though he was a puppeteer. His psychotic laughter made my hair stand up under my mask. The policeman’s arms moved with Nicolaitan’s.

  “He can control people without using Psychedone 10,” I said into my mask.

  “He’s too strong,” Andy’s voice came back.

  Manipulated like the Proletariat I had fought, the policeman waved his pistol all around and then placed it slowly against his own temple. His eyes were large and pleading, his body shaking violently. The gun went off like thunder. I closed my eyes, sick to my stomach, forcing back the urge to scream. I wanted to hug myself and cry, but I stood still.

  When I opened my eyes, Nicolaitan had danced his way closer to the prone bodies on the ground. I noticed the shorter policeman move. So did Nicolaitan.

  “Wearing a bulletproof vest, are we?” Nicolaitan crooned, looking down at the struggling officer. “I’ll bet that stung.”

  The policeman stared up at the Knight. “Who are you?” he gasped.

  “Ask your dead friend.” Nicolaitan reached out. A misty shadow in the shape of a hand flowed from his gauntlet and disappeared through the officer’s bulletproof vest. The policeman convulsed, grasped at his chest, and went limp. Handless Death. It worked this time. Again, I wanted to scream.

  Nicolaitan sauntered toward the police car. “Hello there,” he said, gazing through the cruiser’s windshield. “You really ought to consider the purchase of new vests. I don’t think those work.” He put his finger into the bullet holes in the windshield, clapped his hands and twirled. Then he gazed back into the camera.

  “These special murders were brought to you by…me! For the sheer joy of it. This has no connection to Christmas past, present, or future, and was provided simply as a bonus to show the Kilodan that I still care.”

  A major chill bolted down my spine.

  “Hey, by the by, I want her. You know, the Morgan girl? The lovely masked lass who accompanied your big friend?” Nicolaitan laughed hysterically and cocked his head sideways. “And I am serious about my offer—the war could be over. Your choice. You barely solved my first riddle, so fair warning—the one I just delivered is a bit more difficult. Let me give you a hint. He’s already dead.” Laughter exploded from the speakers as Nicolaitan walked away, disappearing into the graveyard.

  Dalrymple turned off the video. “What should we do? I can’t fight someone like him.”

  “We’ll be in touch.” Andy turned. I followed him into the darkness. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said across my mask’s speakers. “You handled it well. Are you okay?”

  “No.” The conversation with Mom and Dad had made me more frightened of Nicolaitan than ever. But seeing him rip the life out of that poor man with Handless Death, as he had done to my parents, made me want to take him down, no matter the risk.

  “We have to find him,” I said when we got back to the Academy. We parked the Andymobile and headed toward the training room.

  “We will,” Andy said.

  “What about my idea?”

  “The one where you use yourself as bait, in spite of what the people who know better tell you?” He was calm and simply kept walking. “I guess the talk with your Mom and Dad didn’t help.”

  “You knew about that?”

  “That’s why I gave you the night off. Sorry, but I know how you are.”

  “Mom told me.” I took off my mask and smiled. “You’re afraid I’m just like you.”

  Andy nodded. “Deathly.”

  “Well, what would you do in a situation like this?”

  “When I was your age? Go after Nicolaitan even if I had been ordered not to. Now? Make a better plan.”

  “Dad told me you went against orders when I was kidnapped. Mom said you were very brave.”

  “Stupid, not brave.” Andy removed his mask and laughed. “Your mom has always been too kind to me.”

  “I know what you’re going to tell me—there’s a fine l
ine between bravery and stupidity.”

  Andy glanced sideways at me. “No. There is not. That line is very thick, and when I was your age, so was my head. If I had to go after Nicolaitan alone today to save you—”

  “You would do it without a second thought. I know how you are, too, Andy.”

  Andy put his arm around me and led me to a chair. “Sit.”

  I sat.

  “Your parents contacted the Academy as soon as they got the ransom note saying Nicolaitan had kidnapped you. I was the only one there. I was already in uniform, because I had skipped out of high school early to practice, so I took the call. I grabbed my mask and sent out alerts on the way out.

  “By the time I got to the alley, Nicolaitan was standing over your parents. You were lying on the ground next to them, and he bent down to get you. I don’t know if he was going to pick you up or finish you, but I never gave him a chance. I saw red and slammed into him with everything I had. I think that’s the only reason I survived. I heard bones crunch, and I knew they weren’t mine. He came at me with a War Hammer, and I can tell you, I have never fought anyone so skilled with that nasty thing. It took every ounce of training your parents had drilled into me to stay alive. My Psi Weapons didn’t hurt him. His War Hammer destroyed my Thought Saber. He laughed at my Mental Blast. He countered every Mental Arts technique I knew. In the end, I beat him with my bare fists, because that’s all I had left. I knew if I didn’t defeat him, he’d kill you. I hit him as hard as I could. He dropped, and I thought he was done. The last thing I remember was a bright white flash, and I was face down on the street. I remember reaching for you, then everything went black. Next thing I knew, I woke up in the Academy infirmary. My body was broken so badly from Nicolaitan’s Mental Blast that I was on my back for six months.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

  “So you understand the reason nobody will agree to use you as bait for a dangerous animal like Nicolaitan.”