Jillian Spectre & the Dream Weaver Read online

  Jillian Spectre & The Dream Weaver

  The Adventures of Jillian Spectre

  NIC TATANO

  A division of HarperCollinsPublishers

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  HarperImpulse an imprint of

  HarperCollinsPublishers

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2015

  Copyright © Nic Tatano 2015

  Cover images © Shutterstock.com

  Cover layout design © HarperColl‌insPublishers Ltd 2015

  Cover design by Becky Glibbery

  Nic Tatano asserts the moral right

  to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue record for this book is

  available from the British Library

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

  The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

  the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

  actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

  entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International

  and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

  By payment of the required fees, you have been granted

  the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access

  and read the text of this e-book on screen.

  No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted,

  downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or

  stored in or introduced into any information storage and

  retrieval system, in any form or by any means,

  whether electronic or mechanical, now known or

  hereinafter invented, without the express

  written permission of HarperCollins.

  Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

  Ebook Edition © March 2015 ISBN: 9780008140953

  Version 2015-03-24

  Praise for The Adventures of Jillian Spectre

  'A fantastic start to Tatano’s new series…I can’t wait to see where Jillian goes next, but as long as she has her friends around her and never loses her spunky attitude, I will be happy to follow her to the moon and back!'

  The Book Geek

  'It’s got charm and panache and I absolutely recommend it for YA book lovers out there.'

  Book & Coffee Addict

  'This is honestly the absolute best book I've read so far this year.'

  Magic in the Stacks

  'A fab new world for paranormal fans young and old to enjoy.'

  One More Page

  'Carefree and magical.'

  Young Adult Book Madness

  'READ THIS BOOK! No, seriously, this book was such an amazingly fun read…The humor of this quick paced book had me desperately clinging to it.'

  Carrie Reads A Lot

  For Myra, who turns dreams into reality…

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Praise for The Adventures of Jillian Spectre

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Also by Nic Tatano…

  Nic Tatano

  About HarperImpulse

  About the Publisher

  Chapter 1

  When you graduate from high school, you're often told you can change the world.

  In my case, well…been there, done that.

  But when you're an eighteen year old mystic seer who can physically be in two places at once and, oh yeah, you have what might be considered supernatural healing powers and an actual angel from Heaven on speed dial, saving the world is sort of an obligation. So instead of simply being Jillian Spectre, college freshman majoring in the ever popular undecided, I'm moonlighting as a comic book character. Boring classes that require regurgitation by day, redhead superheroine by night. No mask, no costume, no secret underground lair; just a freckled hundred and fifteen pound girl … and saving the planet is not above my pay grade.

  So when my cellular version of the bat phone rings, and I see who's calling—

  "Jillian, my partner's been shot! I need you right now!" says Detective Spencer Ball, NYPD's astral projection investigator and my occasional partner.

  I know the routine. "Mom, I'll be right back!" I yell in the direction of the kitchen, as I stretch out on our living room couch, put the phone on speaker and close my eyes. Spencer, affectionately known as Fuzzball, quickly recites his hypnotic relaxation technique, making me relax and focus on his location as he describes the scene and the person in need of help.

  And that person will die in minutes without me. I can hear the fear and concern in the detective's voice.

  I create the scene in my mind and, in a blink, I'm there. In a moonlit alley somewhere in Manhattan.

  The massive pool of blood on the ground and the twitching man make me jump back. It's one thing to have the detective tell you about it, another to actually see it.

  "Jillian, hurry!" says Fuzzball, who is kneeling down next to his partner, pressing his hand over the guy's chest as blood oozes out.

  I crouch down on the cool pavement next to his partner, a lean, dark haired man in his thirties whose dark eyes are flickering. "What's his name?"

  "Jim." He turns to his partner. "Jimbo, she's here to help. Hang in there, buddy."

  I take the dying man's trembling hand as he is gasping for air like a fish yanked out of the water. "Jim, look at me."

  The man turns his head and locks eyes with me. His are deep pools of fear. I hear gurgling coming from his throat as he tries to talk and see blood trickle out of his mouth.

  He knows he's going to die.

  I tighten my grip on his hand. "You're going to be all right," I say.

  He bites his lower lip as a single tear rolls down the side of his face. "Spence, tell my wife—" His voice is a whisper, barely audible.

  "Hang in there!" says Fuzzball, grabbing Jim's face with his free hand and turning it so that he's facing me. "Now, Jillian!"

  I close my eyes, see the dying man in my mind, and send as much of my life force as I can into him in one incredible rush. I see the blood flow stopping, the bullet working its way out, the wound beginning to heal, his breathing returning to normal, calm returning to his eyes—

  And then I black out.

  I'm holding a different hand and my hair is gently being stroked when I wake up. I already know the touch before I open my eyes.

  I look up and see my boyfriend Ryan. I'm back on the couch with my head and shoulders on his lap. "Welcome back, Sparks." He leans down and kisses me on the forehead.

  "Did I save him?"

  Ryan flashes a big smile. "Yeah. Fuzzball called. Doctors at the hospital say they can't explain it but he's going to make a full recovery. Guess they don't study redheaded guardian angels with healing powers in med school."

  I start to sit up but a throbbing headache pushes me back down and I grab my forehead. "Whoa. How long was I out?"

  "Three hours."

  "Wow. It's been a while since healing knocked me out. I thought I was pa
st that. Damn, I'm fried."

  "You should be. The guy was as close to death as anyone you ever saved."

  "Yeah, no kidding. I've never seen anything like that. It was like a scene out of a gory movie. Good thing tomorrow's a Saturday so I can rest up." I reach up to run my fingers through his thick dark hair and let myself get lost in his deep blue eyes.

  "Well, hate to tell you this, but we don't have the day off."

  "What do you mean?"

  My mom walks into the living room and smiles at me. "Good, you're up. You feelin' okay, sweetie?"

  "My head feels like there's a man inside banging a Chinese gong, but I'll live. What's this about not having tomorrow off?"

  Her smile disappears as she turns to Ryan. "You didn't tell her?"

  "She just woke up, Mrs. Spectre. Didn't have a chance."

  "Tell me what?"

  She turns back to me with a familiar look that tells me something is very wrong. She bites her lower lip, then exhales. "We need to go to The Summit. Sebastien called."

  Uh-oh. An emergency trip to the home office for those with paranormal powers. This can't be good. "Yeah? And?"

  "There's been a change with your father."

  So it turns out my father, the deadbeat dad who abandoned me and mom when I was a year old, the guy who tried to turn society into a bunch of pod people with a mind controlling cell phone and now has a day job as a comatose villain, has taken a turn.

  For better or worse, we don't know. Although worse wouldn't break my heart considering he nearly killed my boyfriend and best friend. But something tells me if that were the case, we wouldn't have been summoned to western New Jersey by Sebastien, head of The Council. The old guy in charge of monitoring everyone with paranormal powers doesn't mess around.

  Sebastien leads me, Ryan and Mom into the antiseptic secure chamber. It's become my father's permanent home since we basically fried his brain and his ability to meld with technology by using a powerful computer virus provided by your tax dollars and Fuzzball's Man in Black buddy who works for the feds. He's still in a coma, face drawn, skin lacking in color, oblivious to the rest of the world. Nothing's changed since that day in May, the last time I saw him.

  Well, nothing had changed until yesterday, according to Sebastien.

  "So, what happened?" I ask, looking at my father through the glass. "He looks the same."

  "His brain waves changed slightly," says Sebastien, as he stares at my father's body. "We monitor the activity constantly and last night something happened that we cannot explain."

  "Is he waking up?" asks Mom, staring at the man who was once the love of her life before turning into an evil maniac. Her tense face tells me she's still conflicted, still wondering if we shorted out the evil part of his brain and the good man might be inside.

  Sebastien shakes his head. "No. But we detected a change in his Delta waves. Jillian, you know the implications of that."

  I nod. "Yeah. The brain waves of the subconscious. How he was going to control me with the phone. So, could he simply be dreaming?"

  "Our experts don't think so. There was no rapid eye movement detected, and dreams would produce a different kind of brain wave pattern that we've seen before from him. The change in his pattern is not unlike what we saw when you combined yours with Ryan and Roxanne. Our theory is that…well, the simplest way to put it is that we think he's been contacted."

  Ryan furrows his brow. "How is that even possible?"

  Sebastien shakes his head. "We don't know," he says, then turns to Ryan. "Which is why I asked you to come along. We were hoping…"

  "You want me to read his mind?" asks Ryan.

  "No!" I yell, throwing out one arm in front of Ryan before Sebastien has the chance to answer. "My father almost killed him twice, and you want to risk his life over some brain wave change? Find another way."

  "There is no danger," says Sebastien.

  My blood pressure spikes. "How the hell can you be sure of that?"

  Mom grabs my arm. "Young lady, watch your tone. Don't yell at Sebastien."

  "I'll yell if he's going to risk my boyfriend's life."

  "We know there's no danger because we already tried using other mind readers. None of them suffered any after effects," says Sebastien. "But they also got no results."

  "Then why do you need me?" asks Ryan. "I just finished my apprenticeship. I'm sure the people you've got here are the best and have a lot more experience."

  "You've made contact with him before," says Sebastien.

  "There's another part to that equation," I say. "My father also went into his mind, remember?"

  Sebastien ignores my comment and keeps looking at Ryan. "We feel you may experience different results because of your previous connection with Jillian and Roxanne. Your powers are slightly different than the average mind reader."

  "What are you talking about?" asks Mom.

  Sebastien looks at the ground. "I admit, I should have told you this before. But when the three of them connected it took his powers in a slightly different direction. Roxanne's as well. They are both more finely attuned, as if they somehow absorbed some of Jillian's incredible gifts."

  "I don't care if he's the best mind reader on the planet," I say, folding my arms. "He's not doing it. End of story."

  Ryan rests his hand on my shoulder. "Hang on a minute, Sparks. The two times he attacked me he sent his own thoughts. He can't do that now."

  "You don't know that!" I say.

  "Yes, we do," says Sebastien. "There is no risk. But it is up to you, Ryan. I certainly understand if you don't want to do this."

  Ryan nods, and I can tell he wants to do it.

  Damn friggin' testosterone. That rampant Y chromosome needs a leash.

  I reach for Ryan's hand and tangle my fingers in his, then give him the most soulful look I can muster. "Please don't. You're not bulletproof."

  "I'll be fine, Sparks," he says, smiling. "Besides, you're here to heal me if anything goes wrong. You've done it before. Twice."

  Damn friggin' logic. Why am I in love with the only eighteen year old guy on the planet with a forty year old brain?

  Ryan turns to Sebastien. "You want me to do this now?"

  He nods. "The sooner we find out, the better."

  "Okay." Ryan closes his eyes, which is what he does when he's about to read a mind. I squeeze his hand harder and he squeezes back.

  My heart slams against my chest and I focus on him, ready to send as much healing energy as I can muster. But thankfully nothing happens.

  Finally, after what seems like an eternity but is actually about sixty seconds, he opens his eyes and looks at me. "See, I'm fine."

  My heart downshifts as I wrap my arms around his waist and lean my head on his chest.

  "Did you get anything?" asks Sebastien.

  Ryan nods as he puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer, then kisses the top of my head. "Not much. It's him, but he's like an innocent five year old who has no idea what's going on around him. And I didn't see any of those dark images he sent into my head before. I didn't pick up anything that might be taken as evil."

  "Good," says Mom.

  "But…" says Ryan.

  Sebastien's eyes widen. "Yes?"

  "Someone's been in his mind."

  My best friend Roxanne furrows her brow as she pulls another slice of pizza from the pan that sits on the red-and-white checkered tablecloth. "Someone powerful contacted your father?"

  I swallow a bite of the steaming double supreme and wash it down with a sip of my super-sized-anti-Mayor-Bloomberg Dr. Pepper. It's funny, even though the guy's out of office people still associate him with declaring DEFCON ONE on soda, and the pizza parlor actually named its extra large drink the Bloomberg Special when the law got tossed by the courts. It's the New York carbonated middle finger at the guy. The restaurant is crowded for a Sunday night, the Mom-and-Pop eatery filled with loud conversation, the smell of baking pies and the sounds of Sinatra. "That's what Sebastien said
. It has to be someone strong to get through their security."

  "No way to identify the person?"

  I shake my head. "Nope. Not yet, anyway. All Ryan got from my father was that he'd had a visitor."

  "So what was this person of power looking for?"

  "The theory is that it's one of my father's minions who wanted to determine if his powers are totally fried. Or maybe try to bring him back to full strength. Which scares the hell out of me."

  "Aren't you glad you didn't heal him."

  "Yeah, no kidding." My heartbeat is picking up a bit and I realize we need to get off the subject. After saving a life on Friday and spending all day at The Summit yesterday, I need something mindless. "So did you and Jake have a good time last night?"

  Roxanne surprises me as she shrugs. "Not really. We went to dinner and after that I wanted to go home."

  "What happened? I thought he was taking you dancing at that new club?"

  "I wasn't in the mood after hearing about his hot Political Science teacher for an hour."

  "Hot teacher?"

  She rolls her eyes and pushes her shoulder length black hair behind her ears with her hands. "Oooooh, Ms. Cruise. She's soooo interesting and she makes her lectures come alive with her incredibly expressive face and all the boys have a thing for her and it's amazing that she's forty and never married…I mean, I know college boys have it bad for women who are a little older, but geez, it was like he was talking to another guy. Then he goes on and on about a meeting he had with her after class and how she really takes a personal interest in her students and seems to think he's got a future in politics. Finally I'd had enough so I told him I didn't feel well and he took me home."

  "Rox, I wouldn't worry about it. Freshmen boys are like kids in a candy store when they see college women after four years of high school girls. Even Ryan's got his head on a swivel."

  "Yeah, but we're college women now."