Mind of My Mind p-2 Read online

  just what different things I was supposed to do. And maybe he hadn’t told Karl, either.

  I got out of bed trying to ignore the parts of me that hurt. I took a long, hot bath, hoping to soak away some of the pain. It helped a little. By the time I finally dressed and went downstairs, nobody but Doro was still around.

  “Tell me about it while you’re having breakfast,” he said.

  “Hasn’t Karl already told you?”

  “Yes. Now I want to hear it from you.”

  I told him. I didn’t add in any of my suspicions. I just told him and watched him. He didn’t look happy.

  “What can you tell me about the other actives you’re holding?” he asked.

  I almost said “nothing” before I realized it wasn’t true. “I can tell where they are,” I said. “And I can tell them apart. I know their names and I know” I stopped, looked at him. “The more I concentrate on them, the more I find out about them. How much do you want to know?”

  “Just tell me their names.”

  “A test? All right. Rachel Davidson, a healer. She’s some relation to Emma. She works churches pretending to be a faith healer, but faith doesn’t have anything to do with it. She—”

  “Just their names, Mary.”

  “Okay. Jesse Bernarr, Jan Sholto, Ada Dragan, and Seth Dana. There’s something strange about Seth.”

  “What?”

  “Something wrong, painful. But no, wait a minute, it’s not Seth who has something wrong with him. It’s Seth’s brother, Clay. I see. Clay’s a latent and Seth is protecting him.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you that most of these people are shielded?”

  “I didn’t realize they were.” I checked quickly. “You’re right. Everyone but Seth is shielded. Hell, I’m still shielded. I forgot the shield was there, but it is. Not even thinned a little.”

  “But you don’t have any trouble reading them through it?”

  “No. It’s one-way communication, though. I can read them, but none of them have managed to find out who I am. And none of them realize when I’m reading them. A while ago, when Karl was reading me, I could feel it. I knew when he started, when he stopped, and what he got.”

  “Can you tell whether any of the others are closer to you, closer to Forsyth now than they were when you first became aware of them?”

  I checked. It was like turning my head to read a wall chart. That easy. And I noticed what I hadn’t noticed before. “Two of them are a lot closer. Rachel and Seth. They’re approaching from slightly different directions, and Rachel’s coming much faster, but, Doro, they’re both on their way here.”

  “And the others?”

  I checked again. “They’ll be coming too. They can’t help it. I see that now. My pattern is pulling them here.”

  Doro said something that I knew had to be a curse even though it was in a foreign language. He came over to me and put his hand on my shoulder. He looked worried. That was unusual for him. I sat there knowing damned well that he was thinking he was going

  to have to kill me. This pattern thing wasn’t part of his plan, then. I was an experiment going bad before his eyes.

  I looked up at him. I wasn’t afraid. I realized that I should have been, but I wasn’t. “Give it a chance,” I said quietly. “Let the five of them get here, and let’s see how they react.”

  “You don’t know how badly my actives usually react to each other.”

  “Karl’s reaction to me was bad enough. Why did you put us together if you didn’t think we could get along?”

  “You and Karl are more stable than the others; you come from four of my best lines. You were supposed to get along fairly well together.”

  “Another experiment. All right, it can still work. Just give it a chance. After all, what have you got to lose?”

  “Some very valuable people.”

  I stood up and faced him. “You want to throw me away before you see how valuable I might be?”

  “Girl, I don’t want to throw you away at all.”

  “Give me a chance, then.”

  “A chance to do what?”

  “To find out whether this group of actives is different—or whether I can make them different. To find out whether I or my pattern can keep them from killing each other, or me. That’s what we’re talking about, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well?”

  He looked at me. After a moment, he nodded. I didn’t even feel relieved. But, then, I had never really felt threatened. I smiled at him. “You’re curious, aren’t you?”

  He looked surprised.

  “I know you. You really want to see what will happen—if it will be different from what’s happened before. Because this has happened before, hasn’t it?”

  “Not quite.”

  “What was different before? I might be able to learn from my predecessors’ mistakes.”

  “Do you think anything you could have learned before your transition could have helped you avoid trapping my actives in your pattern?”

  I took a deep breath. “No. But tell me anyway. I want to know.”

  “No you don’t. But I’ll tell you. Your predecessors were parasites, Mary. Not quite the way I am, but parasites nevertheless. And so are you.”

  I thought about that, then shook my head slowly. “But I haven’t hurt anybody. Karl was right next to me and I didn’t—”

  “I said you weren’t like me. I’m fairly sure you could have killed Karl, though. I suspect Karl realizes that.”

  I sat down. He had finally said something that really hit me. I had kind of built Karl up as a superman in my mind. I could see how he owned Vivian and the servants. His house and his life style were clear evidence of his power. He wasn’t Doro, but he was a good second. “I could have killed him? How?”

  “Why? Want to try it?”

  “Oh, shit, Doro, come on. I want to know how to avoid trying it. Or is that going to be

  impossible too?”

  “That’s the question I want an answer to. That’s what I’m curious about. More than curious. Your predecessors never trapped more than one active at a time. Their first was always the one who had helped them through transition. They always needed help to get through transition. If I didn’t provide it, they died. On the other hand, if I did provide it, sooner or later they killed the person who had helped them. They never wanted to kill, and especially they didn’t want to kill that person. But they couldn’t help themselves. They got … hungry, and they killed. Then they latched onto another active, drew him to them, and went through the feeding process again. Unfortunately, they always killed other actives. I can’t afford that.”

  “Did they … trade bodies the way you do?”

  “No. They took what they needed and left the husk.”

  I winced.

  “And their patterns gave them an access to their victims that their victims couldn’t close off—as you already know.”

  “Oh.” I felt almost guilty—as though he were telling me about things that I had already done. As though I had already killed the people in my pattern. People who hadn’t done anything to me.

  “So you can see why I’m worried,” he said.

  “Yes. But I can’t see why you’d want somebody like me around at all—why you’d breed somebody like me if all my kind can do is feed on other actives.”

  “Not your kind, Mary. Your predecessors.”

  “Right. They killed one at a time. I kill several at once. Progress.”

  “But do you kill several at once?”

  “I hope I don’t kill any at all—at least not unintentionally. But you don’t give me much to base that hope on. What am I for, Doro? What are you progressing toward?”

  “You know the answer to that.”

  “Your race, your empire, yes, but what place is there in it for me?”

  “I’ll be able to tell you that after I’ve watched you for a while.”

  “But—”

  “The thing for you to do
now is rest so that you’ll have a better chance of handling your people when they get here. Your transition was several hours longer than normal, so you’re probably still tired.”

  I was tired. I had gotten only a couple of hours’ sleep. I wanted answers, though, more than I wanted rest. But he’d made it pretty clear that I wasn’t going to get them. Then I realized what he had just said. “My people?”

  “Both you and Karl say you feel as though they’re yours.”

  “And both Karl and I know that, if they really belong to anybody other than themselves, it’s you.”

  “You belong to me,” he said. “So I’m not giving up anything when I give you charge of them. They’re yours as long as you can handle them without killing them.”

  I stared at him in surprise. “One of the owners,” I muttered, remembering the bitter thoughts I’d had two weeks before. “How did I suddenly become one of the owners?”

  “By surviving your transition. What you have to do now is to survive your new authority.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “Thanks. Any pointers?”

  “A few.”

  “Speak up, then. I have the feeling I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

  “Very likely. First you should realize that I’m delegating authority to you only because you’ll need it if you’re to have any chance at all of staying alive among these people. You’re going to have to accept your own proprietary feelings as legitimate and demand that your people accept you on your terms.” He paused, looked hard at me. “Keep them out of your mind as much as you can. Use your advantage. Always know more about them than they know about you. Intimidate them quietly.”

  “The way you do?”

  “If you can.”

  “I have a feeling you’re rooting for me.”

  “I am.”

  “Well … I wouldn’t ask why, on a bet. I’d rather think it was because you really gave a damn about me.”

  He just smiled.

  KARL

  Karl had never wanted quite as much as he did now to hurt something, to kill something, someone. He looked at Vivian sitting next to him, her mind ablaze with fear, her face carefully expressionless.

  The blast of a horn behind him let him know that he was sitting through a green light. He restrained an impulse to lash back at the impatient driver. He could kill with his ability. He had, twice, accidentally, not long after his transition. He wondered why he refrained from doing it again. What difference would it make?

  “Are we going back home?” Vivian asked.

  Karl glanced at her, then looked around. He realized that he was heading back toward Palo Verde. He had left home heading nowhere in particular except away from Mary and Doro. Now he had made a large U and was heading back to them. And it wasn’t just an ordinary unconscious impulse driving him. It was Mary’s pattern.

  He pulled over to the curb, stopped under a NO PARKING sign. He leaned back in the seat, his eyes closed.

  “Will you tell me what’s the matter with you?” Vivian asked.

  “No.”

  She was doing all she could to keep calm. It was his silence that frightened her. His silence and his obvious anger.

  He wondered why he had brought her with him. Then he remembered. “You’re not leaving me,” he said.

  “But if Mary came through transition all right—”

  “I said you’re not leaving!”

  “All right.” She was almost crying with fear. “What are you going to do with me?”

  He turned to glare at her in disgust.

  “Karl, for heaven’s sake! Tell me what’s wrong.” Now she was crying.

  “Be quiet.” Had he ever loved her, really? Had she ever been more than a pet—like all the rest of his women? “How was Doro last night?” he asked.

  She looked startled. By mutual agreement, they did not discuss her nights with Doro. Or they hadn’t until now. “Doro?” she said.

  “Doro.”

  “Oh, now—” She sniffed, tried to compose herself. “Now, just a minute—”

  “How was he?”

  She frowned at him, disbelieving. “That can’t be what’s bothering you. Not after all this time. Not as though it was my fault, either!”

  “That’s a pretty good body he’s wearing,” said Karl. “And I could see from the way you were hanging on him this morning that he must have given you a pretty good—”

  “That’s enough!” Outrage was fast replacing her fear.

  A pet, he thought. What difference did it make what you said or did to a pet?

  “I’ll defy Doro when you do,” she said icily. “The moment you refuse to do what he tells you and stick to your refusal, I’ll stand with you!”

  A pet. In pets, free will was tolerated only as long as the pet owner found it amusing.

  “You’ve got your nerve complaining about Doro and me,” she muttered. “You’d climb into bed with him yourself if he told you to.”

  Karl hit her. He had never done such a thing before, but it was easy.

  She screamed, then foolishly tried to get out of the car. He caught her arm, pulled her back, hit her again, and again.

  He was panting when he stopped. She was bloody and only half conscious, crumpled down on the seat, crying. He hadn’t controlled her. He had wanted to use his hands. Just his hands. And he wasn’t satisfied. He could have hurt her more. He could have killed her.

  Yes, and then what? How many of his problems would her death erase? He would have to get rid of her body, and then still go back to his master, and now, by God, his mistress. Once he was there, at least Mary’s pattern would stop pulling at him, dragging at him, subverting his will as easily as he subverted Vivian’s. Nothing would be changed, though, except that Vivian would be gone.

  Only a pet?

  Who was he thinking about? Vivian or himself? Now that Doro had tricked him into putting himself on a leash, it could be either, or both.

  He took Vivian by the shoulders and made her sit up. He had split her lip. That was where the blood came from. He took out a handkerchief and wiped away as much of it as he could. She looked at him first, vacillating between fear and anger; then she looked away.

  Without a word, he drove her to Monroe Memorial Hospital. There he parked, took out his checkbook, and wrote a check. He tore it out and put it in her hands. “Go. Get away from me while you can.”

  “I don’t need a doctor.”

  “All right, don’t see one. But go!”

  “This is a lot of money,” she said, looking at the check. “What’s it supposed to pay me for?”

  “Not pay you,” he said. “God, you know better than that.”

  “I know you don’t want me to go. Whatever you’re angry about, you still need me. I didn’t think you would, but you do.”

  “For your own good, Vee, go!”

  “I’ll decide what’s good for me.” Calmly she tore the check into small pieces. She looked at him. “If you really wanted me to go—if you want me to go now—you know how to make it happen. You do know.”

  He looked at her for a long moment. “You’re making a mistake.” “And you’re letting me make it.” “If you stay, this might be the last time you’ll have the freedom to make your own

  mistakes.” “You’re wrong to try so hard to frighten me away when you want me to stay so

  badly.” He said nothing. “And I am staying, as long as you let me. Will you tell me what was wrong now?” “No.” She sighed. “All right,” she said, trying not to look hurt. “All right.”

  Chapter Six

  DORO

  It occurred to Doro when Rachel Davidson arrived that she was the most subtly dangerous of his seven actives. Mary was the most dangerous period, though he doubted that she understood this yet. But there was nothing subtle about Mary. Rachel was, as Mary had said, related to Emma. She was the daughter of Emma’s most successful granddaughter, Catherine—a woman who could easily have outlived Emma if she had had better control of her mental
shielding. As it was, she had spent too much of her time and energy trying to keep the mental noise of the rest of humanity out of her mind—as though she were a latent. But a latent would have been less sensitive. Catherine Davidson had simply decided at thirty-nine that she couldn’t stand any more. She had lain down and died. Every one of Doro’s previous healers had made similar decisions. But Rachel was only twenty-five, and her shielding was much better. Doro hoped that her decision, if she made it at all, was several years away. At any rate, she was very much alive now, and she would be more trouble than Mary could be expected to handle so quickly. But Doro decided to watch for a while before he warned Rachel. Before he gave Mary the help Mary did not know she needed. He sat by the fireplace and watched the two women meet.

  Rachel was a full head taller, several shades darker, and from the look on her face, very puzzled. “Whoever you are,” she said, “you’re the one I’m looking for—the one who called me here.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Who are you? What do you want?”

  “My name is Mary Larkin. Come on in and sit down.” Then, when Rachel was seated, “I’m an active, like you. Or not quite like you. I’m an experiment.” She looked at Doro. “One of his experiments that got out of hand.”

  Rachel and Doro found themselves staring at each other, Doro almost as surprised as Rachel. Clearly, Mary was not going to let him be the observer that he had intended to be.

  “Doro?” said Rachel tentatively.

  “Yes.”

  “Thank goodness. If you’re here, this must make sense somehow. I just walked out in the middle of a service in New York. I was so desperate to get here that I had to steal some poor person’s place on a plane.”

  “What did you do with Eli?” Doro asked.

  “Left him to handle the rest of the day’s services. No one will be healed, I know, but no doubt he’ll entertain them. Doro, what’s going on?”

  “An experiment, as Mary said.”

  “But it obviously isn’t out of hand yet. She’s still alive. Or is that temporary?”

  “If it is, it’s none of your business,” said Mary quickly.

  “It wouldn’t be if you hadn’t dragged me here,” said Rachel. “But since you did—”