Page 87 of Power of the Mind

“Dude, it’s not about the money. Are you listening? Everything on the computer is monitored. We live in a digital world now. No more paper files. Welcome to the new age, brother. It’s not easy to sneak around these days. Everyone has trust issues. No one more than the goddamn government. I can’t help you.”

Irritated, I hung up and switched directions, determined to figure out why these people went to see Rowena in the first place. Eliminating the living was a rookie mistake. We had to look at the bigger picture if we were going to get answers.

I brought the dismissed files forward and spread them out, which gave me a total of twenty-six files. I started from the top and read every page.

In under ten minutes, a haunting discovery made me sit upright.

“Not possible.”

I sifted through the files again to be sure, but facts were facts. The last thing I wanted to do was admit that Tallus and his theory of mindfuckery was possible because it wasn’t. If he saw what I saw, he was going to be insufferable.

“Fuck.”

20

Tallus

Stupid work.

I’d been stuck at the office all day without Kitty to keep me company. What was worse? Both Diem and Memphis were ignoring me. I did not take kindly to being disregarded.

After the debacle at Hilty’s office the previous night when I’d almost missed the receptionist heading inside because I’d fallen asleep, I’d forgotten Memphis had finally responded to my text. It wasn’t until I got to the office in the morning that I had time to read it—correction,them. He’d sent multiple messages, and I’d missed them all. If I hated being ignored, Memphis took the sleight to a whole new level. The man was dramatic on steroids.

Memphis: I knew it. I knew you were fucking him.

Memphis: Babe, that hurts my feelings. I don’t want your ass, but since when do we have secrets?

Memphis: All your concern over the psychic was a bullshit excuse to spend time with that creep, wasn’t it?

Memphis: Wasn’t it?

Memphis: Answer me!

Memphis: Hello?

Memphis: Wow. Your silence speaks volumes. Well, fuck that, bitch. You go have your fun with the iceman stalker, and I’ll have mine. I’m booking an appointment with Madame Rowena. In fact, I’m going to see if she can cure my insomnia too. Let her get deep into my psyche and clean out the bad juju.

Memphis: You really don’t care.

All the responses I’d sent that morning had gone unanswered. Memphis was pissed. I could argue until I was blue in the face, but unless I broke down his door and explained myself, I would get the silent treatment.

Fine. Whatever. He could have his brain melted by the psychic all he wanted. It wasn’t like the stupid suspicions I’d had about mind-control murder were proving to be real. The longer I thought about it, the more convinced I was that I’d used it as an excuse to see Diem.

As for the brooding, trouble-giant, his silence wasn’t shocking. Irritating, yes, but I gave up trying to get a text response from him by three in the afternoon. Maybe he was pissed I’d accidentally spent the night. I’d promised to take my ass home by midnight. I’d promised not to invade his privacy or add any undue pressure. But I’d ended up conked out on his couch. Who knew what kind of problems my presence had caused.

When the alarm on my phone woke me at seven that morning and I realized where I was, I’d gone seeking the troubled man, finding him out cold in bed. He’d given me his only blanket, and my heart ached at the unexpected act of kindness. The pull to crawl in beside him and snuggle against his side was strong. A morning orgasm would have been nice, but my good sense won out.

If touching Diem without warning could cause a PTSD reaction, waking him from a dead sleep could prove dangerous,and I didn’t have a death wish. So I’d left him alone, wrote him a note, raced home to shower and change, then went to work.

When my shift ended at five thirty, I locked the doors to the records office and drove directly to his place.

***

I stared at the printed pages spread across the desk, my jaw unhinged. “But… I thought we concluded mind control wasn’t a thing.”

“It’s not.”

“But you just—”

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