Jax flinched. Being compared to Mako really hurt.
“In the Sandman’s Guild,” Braintree went on, “we talk these things out, and help each other resist the impulse to take hypnotic shortcuts.”
“I’ve watched your sandmen work a crowd,” Jax retorted. “I’ve never seen so much pickpocketing in my life. I think some of those people are missing gold teeth.”
The old man nodded. “Admitted. They fall off the wagon sometimes. Nobody’s perfect, as you’ve just demonstrated. And sometimes we’re forced to use our powers for the common good — like when you used yours to thwart Mako’s plans. Let’s not forget how the guild members aided you and your family when you had to disappear from Manhattan.”
Jax bit his tongue. Braintree’s sandmen had come through in a huge way when it had been time for the Opuses to lam it from New York. They had packed up the entire apartment, bending neighbors and doormen so they’d forget the family had ever existed. Mass hypnotisms had been staged at city hall, the passport office, and the Department of Motor Vehicles to come up with the documents to create the Magnuses of Haywood and make the Opuses of Manhattan wink out of existence. According to city records, Mrs. Opus’s chiropractic clinic had been shut down due to a bedbug infestation. No one at the Bentley dealership remembered anyone named Ashton Opus, and there was no record of him having ever worked there. The files at I.S. 222 clearly showed that Jax’s former ID number belonged to an exchange student who had since returned to a small African nation that was not on any map. It was the one thing that could bring a smile to Jax’s lips these days — the thought of Dr. Mako trying to track Jax down at school, only to find he was inquiring about Mwango Gbuzi. Tommy would have gotten a real kick out of that one — except that Tommy himself had been bent. To him, Jackson Opus was barely a memory.
Even now, the sandmen were keeping an eye on Dr. Mako and the Sentia Institute, and reporting back to Braintree. Mako may have been the most dangerous mind-bender on the planet, but he was up against a collection of con artists, tricksters, embezzlers, and petty thieves.
“It’s a little confusing, you know,” Jax complained. “First you tell me it’s bad to use hypnotism. Then you say the whole reason you’re here is to teach me how to strengthen my ability. Which is it going to be?”
“You are descended from the two greatest families in mesmeric history,” the old man explained patiently. “That’s hard to see, since neither of your parents have the talent. It all came to you. We can only guess how powerful you may become. Mako knows this, and he must suspect that eventually your strength will surpass his. He tried to recruit you, and that didn’t work out. Now his only option is to destroy you while he still can.”
Jax was unconvinced. “Every time I tried to bend Mako, he wiped the floor with me.”
“The sandman’s power is like a muscle,” Braintree lectured. “Even Mr. Universe doesn’t start with the heaviest barbells on day one. That’s why I’m here — to pump you up. Somebody has to stop Mako, and you have the potential to be that somebody.”
“What about you?”
The old man shook his head. “I might be able to approach him in skill, yet not in ambition and ruthlessness. To match him, I’d have to risk becoming something just as bad. But you — you will one day make meat loaf out of us both.”
“Yeah?” challenged Jax. “When?”
In answer, the founder of the Sandman’s Guild turned his full gaze to Jax’s multicolored eyes. Jax was instantly aware of an odd sensation, the mental equivalent of swallowing water down the wrong pipe. Braintree was trying to hypnotize him — and inviting him to fight back.
There was nothing kind and open about the old man’s expression now. His intensity was scary, his focus arrow-straight. Jax felt the familiar stirring in his brain that indicated his mind was being probed. In an enormous rush of willpower, he muscled the incursion out of his head, staring at Braintree with irises deepening to purple.
Jax pressed his advantage, his eyes boring into Braintree’s skull. He could see the beginnings of the PIP image attempting to establish itself in his field of vision. He was winning this battle.
I’m doing it! I’m taking down Axel Braintree! he told himself exultantly.
The momentary lapse in concentration cost him the upper hand. Braintree repelled the attack with a wave of energy that felt like a depth charge going off in Jax’s mind. Jax staggered back a half step, and in that instant the old man looked away, breaking the connection. The PIP image popped and vanished.
“You see?” Braintree’s voice was weak but satisfied. “You’re packing a cannon between those ears. You’re the real McTavish.”
“So how come I couldn’t seal the deal?” Jax panted, exhausted.
The old man shrugged. “I’m a street fighter. But you’re going to be the heavyweight champ.”
At the corner of Thirty-Fourth Street and Seventh Avenue, business was lousy for Evelyn Lolis. Standing an even six feet tall in flats, she normally attracted attention. But today no one seemed interested in seeing what she had for sale in the open suitcase that sat on the orange crate in front of her. It didn’t help that today’s product happened to be stainless-steel apple corers, which weren’t exactly at the top of everybody’s shopping list. Still, that shouldn’t have made any difference. For Evelyn Lolis of the Sandman’s Guild, selling had very little to do with the customer wanting to buy.
Well, she couldn’t stand here all day. It was time to jump-start the business.
She emitted a short but musical yodel, and a passing businessman turned to investigate the source of the sound. Lolis wasted no time locking eyes with the man and drawing him toward her. When the picture-in-picture image appeared, she knew she had him.
“You need a handy-dandy apple corer,” she intoned, holding his gaze. “You need it more than you’ve ever needed anything in your life. Ten bucks, including tax.” She could have charged any amount, even hundreds. But it was best not to be too greedy. Sooner or later, the buyer would come back to himself. And if he was thoroughly ripped off, he might come back to her — this time with a cop.
The man produced a bill and handed it over. “I’ll take one.”
Lolis accepted the money. “They make great gifts, too. You should probably buy a couple more. Thank you for your patronage. Now, when your wallet is back in your pocket, you’ll forget where you bought these wonderful things and go on with your happy day.”
The man walked away, whistling. Another satisfied customer. Thanks to hypnotism, there was no other kind.
Out of habit, she looked around to make sure Axel Braintree wasn’t witnessing her transaction. Axel had formed the Sandman’s Guild to prevent this kind of commerce from taking place. And he definitely wouldn’t have appreciated the way she’d acquired the crate of one hundred apple corers in the first place. She’d bent the truck driver at a stoplight, implanting a post-hypnotic suggestion for him to deliver one of his cartons to this intersection. It had been pure bad luck that she’d wound up with corers instead of iPods. After all, it had said APPLE on the truck. Oh, well — easy come, easy go.
She picked out her next customer. This was going to be easy. She didn’t even have to reel him in. He was approaching of his own free will, the brim of his fedora pulled low. He leaned in over the suitcase and removed his hat. Sharp black eyes burned into hers.
She recognized the hawk nose and beetle brows too late to do anything about it. With a gasp, she tried to turn away, but Elias Mako ripped into her mind as surely as if he’d used one of her apple corers. She fought with all her mesmeric power to keep him out, but it was a losing battle. The guild members played at hypnotizing one another, but not one of them was capable of this kind of mental bulldozing. She doubted even Axel could withstand it.
“You are very relaxed,” he said in a soft, melodious voice.
“I’m not!” she rasped, biting her lip until she tasted blood. Anything to keep from giving herself over to his control.
His
eyes grew huge, boring into her soul. “You are reclining on soft white sand on a beautiful beach. The ocean breeze is fragrant with oleander.”
She resisted. “It’s New York and it smells like pastrami and garbage!” Then the tropical scent reached her, and she sighed with the sheer joy of it all. Her fear disappeared along with the pain of her mouth. The busy intersection faded away.
“You are Evelyn Lolis of the Sandman’s Guild.”
“Sandperson’s Guild.” Even totally bent, she stuck up for her belief that there were just as many sandwomen as there were sandmen, and the name of the guild should be changed.
“My mistake,” Mako agreed genially. “And now you will tell me what I need to know. Where is Jackson Opus?”
“He left town with his family. Axel is living with them.” In her mind, she was not betraying anything. Elias Mako wasn’t the enemy. That was all a misunderstanding, long in the past. They were mind-benders together, one big happy family. And wasn’t this sea breeze wonderful … ?
“Yes, but where did they go? Where are they now?”
“Nobody knows,” Lolis replied honestly. “Axel set it up so none of us could spill the beans.” She frowned. “Why would he do that? Who’d ever hurt the Opuses?”
“Think,” the director of Sentia prodded. “You must have some memory. What is their new name? What part of the country are they hiding in?”
Lolis looked mystified. Mako felt a surge of anger. She wasn’t holding out on him. He had gained her trust so completely that she was incapable of comprehending the fact that he meant them harm. And, by God, he did! Jackson Opus could not be allowed to continue to develop his limitless potential.
The interview was over. Still, the Lolis woman represented a connection to Braintree, and therefore to Jax.
“And now,” Mako said with a sigh, “I invite you to join the laundry.”
She looked puzzled for a moment, which was typical of someone who’d received a hypnotic instruction that could not be carried out. A few seconds later, a dry cleaner’s van pulled up. The rear double doors opened and Mako gallantly handed her up to Wilson DeVries, who was waiting among the bundles of clothing to receive her.
The doors slammed shut, and all that remained of Evelyn Lolis was the suitcase of apple corers atop an orange crate on West Thirty-Fourth Street.
The viscous liquid bubbling in the flask over the Bunsen burner looked muddy green, but Jax scribbled yellow in his lab notebook. Everything looked muddy when seen through his dark glasses. Even the sunny day outside seemed like a November fog.
He lifted the frames just a little for a peek, and changed yellow to amber — although it was hard to care about his science grade … or any other grade, for that matter. He was beginning to feel like the people in the Arctic Circle who spent six months in darkness every year. It brought on depression. Jax could sympathize with that. He wasn’t too thrilled with this new school, new town, and new life. And he was even less thrilled with the reason he was forced to live it.
“Hey, Agnes!” A beefy hand swept the glasses off his nose. They skittered across the counter into a rack of test tubes. “Why don’t you lose the shades? You might see something.”
“That’s Magnus,” Jax growled, raking the offender with an angry look as he reached for the glasses. He used to be Dopus; now it was Agnes. The one thing that was consistent was he always managed to pick enemies who made fun of his name.
Keith Federov was taller than Jax, with long arms that enabled him to reach over Jax and snatch up the frames before Jax could get to them. “No way, movie star.”
When the PIP opened up before Jax, he didn’t hesitate. Maybe Axel had created the Sandman’s Guild to teach hypnotists to resist using their powers, but there were some things a guy shouldn’t have to put up with. Keith had the advantage of size and height. Why shouldn’t Jax retaliate with his own special skill?
“You will give me back my glasses,” he commanded in a low voice.
“Not unless I get passes to your next red-carpet Hollywood premiere,” the big boy sneered at him.
Jax blinked in surprise. How had Keith resisted his instruction? You didn’t get defiance from a guy who was bent. Yet there was the PIP of Keith looking back at him.
Or was it? Analyzing the vision before him, Jax concluded that the angle was ever-so-slightly off. And — wasn’t that the back of Keith’s head in the corner of the view? Which meant …
He looked behind Keith to see another kid — a short, squat boy, David somebody — staring into Jax’s luminous eyes, totally entranced.
Keith held the glasses over the bubbling beaker. “I wonder if there’s any acid in this stuff?”
Oh, well; Axel wasn’t going to like this. Jax focused on David and whispered his instructions.
“What are you mumbling about, Agnes?” Keith demanded belligerently.
Behind him, David picked up Keith’s notebook and thrust it into the flame of the Bunsen burner.
“Fire!” Jax barked.
Keith wheeled to find his experiment notes ablaze on the countertop. In the chaos that followed, he dropped the sunglasses, and Jax was able to retrieve them and get them back on his nose — but not before murmuring to David, “This wasn’t your fault. It was Keith fooling around.”
The teacher bounded onto the scene, and the blackened notebook was shrouded in a cloud of fire-extinguisher foam.
“Who did that?” she asked angrily.
Both Jax and David pointed at Keith.
“I never touched that book!” the big boy defended himself. “I was holding …” His voice trailed off. He couldn’t protest his innocence without admitting that he’d started the fracas in the first place.
Keith was banished to the office. It wasn’t justice, Jax reflected, but it was deeply satisfying.
David seemed utterly bewildered, so Jax murmured, “When the bell rings, this whole class was just a blur to you.” One of the things he’d learned at Sentia was that it was a good idea to take care of the loose ends.
“You really did a number on Federov.”
Jax turned in the passing parade of students. Felicity Green was matching his pace in the crowded hallway. The Greens lived in the house directly behind the Magnuses, separated by two postage-stamp-size backyards.
“What do you mean?” The last thing Jax needed was to attract the attention of this nosy neighbor — especially since they were in three of the same classes.
“Keith’s an idiot, but not a lot of people have the guts to stand up to him,” she said admiringly. “How did you get your hands on his book without him noticing?”
Jax shrugged. “It all happened really fast.”
She grinned appreciatively, which hollowed out a dimple in her left cheek. She was petite and blonde, with a healthy, natural look except for a thin purple streak dyed into her hair. “Did you get your banana bread yet?”
“Banana bread?”
“My mom bakes her famous banana bread for everybody new to the neighborhood,” she explained. “She’s been working overtime lately, so I wasn’t sure if she’d made it to your house. You live with your parents and your grandfather, right?”
Jax edged closer to alert mode. He’d already noticed Felicity spent a lot of time looking out the back window of her house. Now he understood why: She was a natural snoop, curious about everybody’s business. That would have been fine. In fact, she seemed genuinely nice. Except that the Magnus family’s business didn’t bear inspection.
“It’s my uncle,” Jax told her, sticking to the cover story they’d invented to explain Braintree’s presence in their home. “My mom’s older brother. He’s staying with us for a while.”
“He’s in really great shape for his age,” she commented. “He spends half the day exercising.”
“He’s into fitness,” Jax agreed lamely. “He and my mom are super close.”
“Really?” She was surprised. “She says he’s driving her crazy.”
He stopped in his trac
ks and turned sharply. “How would you know that?”
“Don’t hate me,” the girl said sheepishly. “I read lips.”
She was hard to hate, but that wasn’t the point. Jax and his family were hiding out here in Haywood. And sheer random chance had landed them across a sixty-foot expanse of grass from the local one-girl CIA.
Sure, Felicity Green meant them no harm. But when Dr. Elias Mako was looking for you, an innocent invasion of privacy could turn into a genuine invasion.
Jax looked up from the notes he was working on. “We have to stop, Axel. I need to study. I’ve got a real history test on the Minutemen tomorrow, and there’s not going to be any hypnotism on it.”
Braintree raised a bristly brow. “Is that so? ‘One if by land, and two if by sea’? That’s a post-hypnotic suggestion if I’ve ever heard one.”
“No kidding!” Jax was impressed. He was only beginning to learn of the many world events that had been shaped by mind-benders over the centuries. And some of the greatest practitioners of the art had been relatives, both on the Opus side and the Sparks — Mom’s family. He sighed. “Forget it. If I put that, I’ll flunk for sure.”
The old man nodded. “John Adams was the most gifted hypnotist ever to hold the office of president. Wait till you hear what he made Jefferson do at the Second Continental Congress.”
Jax held his ears. “If I can’t tell the difference between the textbook and hypnotic history, we’re both going to have some explaining to do on report-card day.”
Braintree was firm. “A bad grade is a small price to pay for keeping yourself and your family alive.”
“Tell that to my mother.”
“She already knows, and so does your father. Your parents gave up their careers to come here, but it was a move they made happily, for your sake. I don’t think a bad report card will throw them. Your mother and I may not see eye to eye on much, but we both agree that nothing is more important than keeping you safe from Mako.”