The Locksmith (Mindjack Origins #5) by Susan Kaye Quinn

Author:Susan Kaye Quinn [Quinn, Susan Kaye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: young adult, paranormal, science fiction
Published: 2015-02-09T00:00:00+00:00

I successfully avoid Tessa for the rest of the day. I’m a sufficiently large enough jerk to her that I don’t think she’s going to offer to show me her art again. Or let me walk her between classes. I tell myself this is for the best… about a hundred times on the long walk home.

I linger behind the crowd, so the sidewalks are empty and I don’t have to link to anyone. The skinny suburban houses are filled with mindreaders, but the building ordinances keep the identical gray-and-cream-colored homes spaced far enough apart that the readers don’t have to listen to the thoughts of their neighbors. Or the moody high school kid walking down their sidewalk. For me, it’s a chance for some clear head space. The wind ruffles the leaves, and an occasional autocab rumbles by, but it’s mostly quiet. A squirrel makes a temporary racket by hurtling through the blanket of fall leaves that have dropped with the cooling Chicago weather.

By the time I reach my house and use my passkey to get into the garage, I’ve nearly convinced myself that I’m some kind of hero for being a jerk to Tessa and keeping her out of my life. I pass through the kitchen and see a muffin massacre on the table—Olivia, my eleven-year-old sister, plowed through the snacks pretty fast in my absence. Which makes me wonder how long I dragged my feet on the way home: Olivia usually arrives the same time I do.

“Hey, Livvy!” I shout. “Where you at?”

I listen for her response as I toss my backpack on the couch. No answer.

I go scouting for her. I’m supposed to watch Liv after school, until Mom and Dad get home on the train from their corporate jobs downtown, but Marshall wants me to come in today, so we’re going to need a different plan.

“Liv!” I take it up a notch. There’s no excuse for her not to answer, other than she thinks she’s too big for babysitters. Which means she’s good for keeping it a secret when I skip out on babysitting duty. Mom and Dad are both mindreaders, but Livvy hasn’t gone through the change yet, and they won’t be able to read her thoughts. Which Liv and I work to our mutual advantage as much as possible.

“Livvy, I’m serious, where—” I round the corner to the living room and stop in my tracks. She’s working the living room holo game like mad, dancing as she fights through hordes of tentacle creatures. She must have the wireless buds in her ears, because when she sees me she nearly jumps out of her skin and lands back on the couch like she’s having a heart attack.

I can’t help cracking up.

She pulls the earbuds out. “Oh my god, Zeph! You scared me to death!”

“I scared you?” I glance at the pile of tentacled splatter-corpses on the screen. “You’re fighting hideous creatures from the deep, but you’re scared of me?”

“You’re much uglier.” She sticks her tongue out at me.

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