Closed Hearts (8 page)

“Your patron looks awfully young to be hiring out jackwork,” she said. “And he doesn’t look rich enough to afford it either. Although he already has a keeper for a mindguard. That can’t have come too cheap. Maybe you’d like to change your mind about trading, keeper? I’m sure I can get a good price for him.”

“She’s not going to trade away her unos supplier,” Raf said in a confident voice. “We’re looking for someone who wants an easy jackwork job.”

I had maybe two and a half unos in my pocket, leftover tips from the diner. I tried to affect the same outwardly cool expression Raf was now wearing, while my mouth was running dry.
What are you doing?

Trying to talk our way out of this.
Raf pictured a pocket-sized mini-taser in his mind.
Just in case it doesn’t work.

What? You’re armed?
I was starting to wonder who this Raf was and what he did with my boyfriend.

The woman appraised him again. “What kind of services are you looking for, sweetie? My crew could probably handle your needs, if the price is right. We’re not wetjacks, but you look too sweet for that.” She smiled at Raf in a way that made my fists clench. “Do you want us to jack someone into going to the prom with you?”

Raf’s jaw worked but his voice was calm. “I have a trust fund that I’m coming into when I’m eighteen, but I’m tired of waiting.”

She curled a smile. “Maybe we’ll ransom you instead, sweet thing. I’m sure your mommy will pay handsomely to have her darling boy back.”

“My father’s wife is spending my trust fund on her jewelry collection, something I’m hoping you might be able to fix.” Raf slipped his hands into his pockets, looking casual, but his thoughts showed that he had gripped the taser. If Raf tried the taser on them, there was no way I’d be able to keep the woman and her crew out of his head.

I had to think a way out of this, and fast.

The woman tsk-tsked Raf, like he was a foolish boy. “Not very smart, coming here, sweet thing,” she said. “Your mindguard should have told you that.”

“I warned him,” I said. “I offered to contract for him, but he wanted to meet the jackworker for himself.” They outnumbered me five to one, and they’d have Raf in an instant if they wanted to take him, so I needed to keep them talking. “You know these trustfunders. No sense in their heads. Since you don’t want our business, we’ll just be on our way.”

I grabbed Raf’s arm and edged us out from the squeeze between the woman and her crew.

“No need to hurry,” said a rough voice. One of the men had crept up on us.

“I’ve never met a keeper before, Norma, have you?” Henry said. “They’re what you call ‘rare’ I think. Like one of those mage types, right? How much do you think we can get for one of those?”

“A fair amount, I’d say,” she said. “And the boy might fetch a nice ransom, if he’s a trustfunder like she says. Because I’m sure a keeper would never lie.”

That got a laugh all around.

“Look, we don’t want any trouble…” I said.

“It’s no trouble at all,” said the man with a battered face.

Raf’s fists were clenched at his side, the taser tucked inside.
Kira, if they take me, you run and find your dad.

I’m not leaving you here!

Suddenly a small hand reached out to grab mine. I jerked my hand back and turned to see one of the two boys who had disappeared before. The other had hold of Raf, tugging him away from the jackers menacing us. I quickly brushed the soft Jell-O of their minds. They were barely changelings and I could easily jack them, but their thoughts showed they wanted to help us find a place to hide. Raf was giving them a suspicious look, but he couldn’t read their minds like I could. Strangely, Norma and her crew were letting the changelings pull us away. I shuffled backward, unwilling to turn my back on the crew.

The burly man jutted his chin out. “Another time, keeper.” Raf and I and the changeling boys turned and ran full tilt down the sidewalk, hugging the abandoned shops. We didn’t stop until we turned down another alleyway teeming with trash.

“Thank you.” My voice was raspy from the run and the leftover tension. How on earth were these two able to extricate us from Norma and her crew? “We need a place to stay, just for an hour.”

The boys edged closer, and they reminded me of changelings from the jacker camp. Hair disheveled, jeans tattered at the knees and well-worn, like they had one pair and they’d been wearing them for a long time. They must have been thrown out by their parents. They would only be in Jackertown if they had nowhere else to go.

The younger one, all of twelve years old, crept closer. “We can’t read you,” he said softly. “Are you really a keeper?” There was awe in his voice. I was glad he hadn’t figured out I was Kira Moore, face of the outted jackers.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m a keeper, and my friend and I are new here. And thanks. For back there.” I fished in my apron pocket for the bit of tips I had inadvertently taken from the diner. “It’s all I have, but I can pay you more when my dad gets here.”

The older one, who was maybe fourteen, said, “We don’t need your money,” but the younger one dashed his small hand out to scoop the change from my hand. I added on a smile.

The older one frowned, but said, “Come on. We know someone who will let you stay.”

Raf and I followed the boys out the far end of the alley. The next street was mostly brownstones that hadn’t been rehabbed to bring them up to range codes, all short and squat and packed too close together. The boys scurried up a set of stairs to a door with curls of peeling paint. They didn’t knock. It was opened by an elderly woman who ushered them inside. Raf and I quickly followed without saying a word.

The woman was shorter than me, her slender frame wrapped in a flowered housecoat and layered with a knit cardigan that looked handmade. She folded her bony arms, feet planted wide, and appraised us for a moment. “You look like you need a place to stay. The street isn’t any place to be at night, not in Jackertown.” She nodded to Raf. “Especially not for little lost lambs.” He looked put out by her description.

“Thanks for taking us in,” I said, before Raf could ruffle our guardian angel. “We just need a place to stay for an hour or so.”

She swept a gnarled hand out, inviting us into a wallpapered sitting room off the entryway. It had lace hanging from the windows, the lamp shades, and even the shelves. A look from her sent the boys scurrying off through a doorway at the end of the room. In spite of Raf’s amazing performance before, his face was pale and it twisted my insides. I didn’t care that our grandma-savior was standing right there. I buried my face in his chest and gently linked into his mind.

Raf, I’m so sorry.
His arms enveloped me, warm and strong, and I quivered against him.

It’s okay,
he thought.
Everything’s going to be fine. Your dad will be here soon.
Raf’s thoughts were tinged with the sour taste of worry, mostly about how he couldn’t protect me on the street. I loved him for that thought, but the idea of
him
worrying about protecting
me
was upside down.

I’m so sorry,
I linked the thought again.
You shouldn’t be wrapped up in my mess.

Raf lifted my hand from where I clung to his jersey and leaned down to kiss my wrist, the two tangled pieces of the heart tattoo disappearing under his lips.
I’m just mad my one chance to have you alone was interrupted.
He kissed my forehead, lightly lingering there.
Wherever you are, that’s where I belong.

Raf was completely wrong. Where we were was absolutely no place for him.

Twitters sounded from the other side of the room. I didn’t detect any other mindjackers in his mind, so our thoughts were private, but we were giving quite a show with the touching, which wasn’t very mesh. The grandma’s smile wrinkled up her face, and the boys spied on us from the doorway. She waved them off and they disappeared in a burst of giggles.

I disengaged from Raf, pulling out of his mind before he could tell me any more intimate thoughts that might make my cheeks burn even more than they were already.

“I’m glad you found your way here,” the woman said, waving at two overstuffed chairs stamped with flowers. “Make yourselves at home.”

“Thank you,” I said, but we stayed standing. “We won’t impose on you long. I called my dad. He’s going to come get us soon.”

“Your dad, Kira?” she said. “He must be worried with you here in the city.”

My jaw dropped. “You… know me.” The hairs rose up on the back of my neck.

She swept a finger along her cheek, mimicking the synth-tattoo I had along mine. “It’s not much of a disguise, dear.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up. “Well, I didn’t plan to come here, where people might recognize me.”

She nodded. “Yet I’m sure you have quite the stories to tell. Why don’t you have a seat while we wait?”

Raf and I slowly sat in the chairs, which were stiff like they were rarely used and smelled faintly of lilacs. The changelings peeked in again from the kitchen doorway.

I inclined my head toward them. “Do you take care of all the orphans here?”

She sent a quick sideways look to the boys and they slipped back through the swinging door. “I look out for all kinds of people who have lost their way.” She perched on a chair opposite us, her light body barely making a dent in it. “You must tell me, dear: how did you break out of that desert camp, just you and no one else?”

Her question made me squirm. “It’s complicated.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said. “You must know that the changelings all talk about you. I’m sure the truth is more amazing than the stories they’ve made up.”

I didn’t know what stories she was talking about, and I wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but it was straying into things I didn’t like talking about. Especially with Raf nearby and unable to keep things a secret with his reader mind. As I was working up a good answer, there was a click at the front door.

I frowned. There was no way my dad could have gotten here so quickly, even if he had managed to find us by tracking my phone. I was on my feet and reaching out when Julian came around the corner.

“There you are,” he said, looking at me. Then he turned to the woman. “Thank you so much for keeping her for us, Myrtle.”

I gaped at him and whirled on Myrtle, trying to jack into her mind, but she pushed me flat back into mine with such an intense pressure that it made me drop to my knees. Raf went limp in the chair next to me.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” said Julian. “Myrtle is the strongest jacker I’ve ever met. And I’ve met quite a few.”

Just as I was sure my skull would crack, the pressure from Myrtle cut off.

Her slippered feet shuffled back, and I blinked away the stars that were zipping in front of my eyes. An older jacker, mid-twenties, stood to Julian’s side, calm but ready. I vaguely recognized him from the mages’ lair. His hair looked like he cut it himself in the mirror, and his jeans were not quite ragged enough for holes. His stringy fingers tapped a rhythm on his folded arms, but his face was impassive, as if he was awaiting Julian’s orders to either strangle me or escort me out the door, and he didn’t much care which one it was.

Julian’s lips pressed into a straight line. I gripped the upholstered chair and struggled to my feet. Raf had slid from his seat and lay like a doll slumped on the ground. I quickly linked into his mind, but he was only passed out. I held still, in case any sudden moves would bring Myrtle down on my head again.

“Hinckley,” Julian said. “Could you take care of the keeper’s friend?”

My back stiffened as Hinckley strode over to Raf, but he simply hooked his thin but muscular arms under Raf’s and hoisted him back into the chair. He propped Raf so he wouldn’t fall out again, even as his head lolled.

“She has a phone,” Myrtle said. “Said her father was coming to get her.” My heart climbed up in my throat.

“You called your father to come get you?” Julian’s voice was incredulous, as if that was the stupidest thing I could possibly have done. At the moment, I was thinking he was right. My dad would be walking into a trap.

Julian curled a fist and eyed the door. “Well, that will only make this mess even bigger. I suppose that means we can’t stay here.” He pressed his fist into the wing of Raf’s chair. “I might need your assistance, Myrtle.”

“I should say so.”

Raf jumped up from the chair, startling me so badly I nearly fell back into mine. But he wasn’t awake at all. The overwhelming presence of Myrtle filled his mind. Hinckley jogged to the door to open it before Myrtle puppet-walked Raf through. I hurried close behind Raf, resisting the urge to grab his hand. Julian and Hinckley followed so close I could hear Julian breathing through his teeth.

More jackers filled the street since we’d gone inside. Gathered in bunches on the steps of their brownstones, they looked like the jacker gangs in the camp, minus the arm bands. Both of Hinckley’s hands fluttered, playing an invisible piano in the air and turning away the stares of the street as his gaze swept forward and back. How could he control so many jackers at once? A long time ago, I had managed to knock out an entire warehouse of jackers, one after another, but that was only because I caught them off guard. Controlling a host of readers at once was reasonable for any jacker, but turning the heads of this many hyper-alert jackers?