Mindsiege (Mindspeak #2)(77)

That’s reassuring.

The agent grabbed me by the arm.

I resisted the urge to mindspeak or to paralyze the man. I would listen to Jonas and not fight. For now.

Just before the agent led me from the room, I looked back at Addison. She still hadn’t moved, but when I focused on her eyes, they shifted and looked directly at me.

~~~~~

We made three turns before the agent unlocked a door and shoved me into a room. I spun and lunged toward him, but he easily deflected my attack. He closed the door and locked it with a key hanging around his neck.

The agent was not a large man. No more than five foot eight, but he looked solid, and his biceps threatened to bust through his white button-down.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice brusque.

“Why?”

He pulled a syringe from his pocket that held a few milliliters of a bright yellow substance. Holding it up, he stuck a needle on the end and pulled the cap off. “I don’t want to use this, but I will.”

I turned. The room was empty except for a single bed and one swivel chair typical of a doctor’s office.

“Where were you, Sandra, and Dr. DeWeese coming from so late tonight?” I glanced over my shoulder at him.

“What?” He capped the syringe, tucked it in his back pocket, then forced my arms out to my side and proceeded to pat me down. “That’s none of your business.” I eyed my special ring—a ring I wanted to use, but the time wasn’t right. Not yet.

But you want to tell me anyway. Where’d you go tonight?

“We spent the afternoon at the track and then dinner,” he answered. The agent continued to search my body—for weapons, I assumed. I was thankful I hadn’t brought a gun. When he reached my bottom, he stopped, pulling my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans. “You won’t be needing this.” He stuck my phone inside his other pants pocket.

Dang. “You got back awfully late. Why?” Where else did you go?

“We had dinner at Palmer’s, that lasted until just before—” He stopped, grabbed me by my shoulders and spun me around. “You’re mind-controlling me.”

No, I’m not. No one is inside your mind. Who else was at Palmer’s? What were they discussing?

“Just John, Sandra, some investors, and other IIA agents. They were discussing final evacuation and destruction of the labs.”

“Evacuation? Sandra’s moving the labs?”

The agent’s shoulders straightened. “You are controlling my mind.” He pulled the syringe from his pocket.

“No, I swear I’m—”

He jammed the needle directly into my neck. I faded fast.

~~~~~

I awoke with a massive headache. Not sure if it was from removing the tracker from Addison or the drug the stupid agent injected me with.

I was alone. And I had to pee.

Welcome back.

Jonas. What time is it?

Six a.m.

I drilled my fingers into my temple. I wished I had a needle to stick straight into my eye to release the pressure building there. Where are you?

I’m not far. I’m trying to get back into Sandra’s good graces. Convince her that I’ve been working for her all along. That I brought you here like she wanted.

How do I know that’s not exactly what you did?

You don’t. Jonas sounded sad. Tired. You’ll have to do something completely out of character and have a little faith.

Ouch. I had faith. Just not in people very often. What’s the plan? Besides finding a bathroom. I scanned the room. No doors other than the one I entered through.

The plan is to sit tight until I tell you otherwise. And try to behave. Don’t control any minds. Sandra has ordered all agents to keep you under if you give them any trouble. They all have trackers in the backs of their necks and have been trained to know when one of us is inside their heads. They only take orders from two people.

Sandra and John DeWeese. I squeezed the bridge of my nose. Did you know about Dr. DeWeese?

I suspected.

Jack? I asked. Did he know?

He has suspected as well. But that didn’t prepare him for seeing it with his own eyes.

He said nothing to me. A tinge of anger flared across my cheeks. Anger with myself, I thought. For not being someone Jack could trust with his suspicions. Where is he?

He returned to Wellington. To regroup.

Regroup, huh. I pocketed my thoughts the way Jonas taught me. Trust no one—my father’s words from the letter he sent me after his death. Sit tight? No way. I pushed myself out of the very uncomfortable bed and walked to the doorway. It was locked, of course, but only with one simple bolt. Still, it was a steel bolt.

What about Georgia? I asked Jonas. Where is she? I wondered how bad her seizure had been the night before.

Seth has her at the hospital, one building over, recovering. Kyle is with her. Why?

No reason. I worked quickly to hide what I was thinking.

Lexi, I mean it. Don’t do anything stupid.

Whatever. I’m locked inside a room with nothing but a bed and a chair, Jonas. I can’t even go to the bathroom. Which I need to do, by the way. I looked up at the camera in the corner and waved. “Hey, *s. I need to use the bathroom.”

Jonas laughed.

I sat in the chair, crossed my legs, and twirled my ring round and round. I’d give anything for a gun right now. Except they would have taken it, right along with my phone.