Canyons Of Night (29 page)

“It’s all in the notebook,” Thelma said absently. “That’s how I learned of the existence of the engine in the first place.” A visible tremor shivered through her. She gasped in response and frowned. “It’s incredibly powerful.”

“Yes,” Charlotte said. “How did you come by the notebook?”

“Your aunt found it for me, of course. After I deciphered it I realized that the rumors I had heard were true. One of the First Generation colonists had brought the Bridewell Engine through the Curtain. I told Gaines about it. He managed to locate the refurbished Sylvester doll but not the engine. I took a chance and asked your aunt to find a certain Nineteenth Century Old World snow globe. But she started to ask too many questions.”

Another frisson of intuition sliced across Charlotte’s senses.

“You killed Aunt Beatrix, didn’t you?” she asked.

“As I said, she was starting to get suspicions. My sons and I ran a very profitable business here on the island for several years, selling items out of Looking Glass to mainland collectors. Beatrix never had a clue. All she cared about was her own search for some old artifact she called the Key. She never seemed to miss any of the antiques that my sons removed from her back room.”

“Your sons?”

“Brody and Mack. The two men Attridge just arrested. I’ll see about getting them out of jail later. Shouldn’t be difficult. They’re both hunters, after all. But right now the engine is my first priority.”

“Jeremy handled the sale of the items you stole from my aunt, didn’t he?”

“He was the one with the connections,” Thelma said. “Our partnership worked well until he tried to cheat me out of the snow globe.” She flinched. Her eyes tightened in pain. “It’s getting too hot.”

“I know,” Charlotte said softly. “It’s going to get hotter.”

She heard the back door of the shop open. The shiver of awareness that went through her told her that Slade had arrived. He moved silently into the doorway between the two rooms. Out of the corner of her eye Charlotte saw another, much smaller shadow at his heels. Rex.

But Thelma did not notice. She was staring, transfixed, into the snow globe.

“Why didn’t Brody and Mack use the Quicksilver Mirror on Slade?” Charlotte asked.

“Bah. Neither of them is strong enough to generate killing energy with the mirror. I had them use the automaton, instead. But something obviously went wrong. No matter, I’ll deal with the chief later.”

“I wouldn’t plan on it, if I were you,” Charlotte said.

“Nonsense. I did some research on him when he took the job. It appears that he had some talent at one time but he’s just a burned-out
FBPI
agent now. According to his para-psych records, he’s deteriorating and will continue to do so.” Thelma started to shiver violently.
“What’s happening?”

“Among sensitives, a talent for viewing aura rainbows isn’t considered especially useful,” Charlotte said quietly. “But it turns out that if you’re really, really good at it you can tune the energy in certain objects to resonate with an individual’s aura.”

Dawning horror lit Thelma’s features but she still could not look away from the engine.

“What are you talking about?” she gasped.

“As it happens, what can be tuned to resonate positively can be tuned to achieve the . . . opposite effect,” Charlotte said.

“No
.
”

Thelma struggled to unclamp her hand from around the snow globe. When that failed she smashed the object violently against a nearby table. The glass did not shatter. Inside the dome, ominous snow continued to fall over the ancient city of London.

Thelma shuddered violently. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. Her eyes rolled back into her head. She collapsed abruptly, crumpling to the floor.

The engine fell from her limp fingers, landing with a thud. The glass snow disappeared. The dome went dark.

Slade moved into the room, pistol in hand. He crouched briefly to check Thelma’s throat for a pulse. Charlotte watched him, gripping the edge of a nearby table to steady herself. The shock of what she had done slammed through her. Her pulse was skidding violently.

Slade got to his feet, holstered the gun, and pulled Charlotte into his arms.

“It’s all right,” he said into her hair. “She’s still alive, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

Charlotte realized she was getting short of breath. “I wasn’t sure what would happen. There was so much energy in that s-snow globe.”

“What did you do to the globe?”

“Usually I t-tune objects so that they resonate harmoniously with a person’s aura. This time I reversed the p-process. I tweaked the globe’s c-currents so that they dampened Thelma’s own frequencies.”

He looked down at Thelma. “You flatlined her aura for a time. Long enough to make her lose consciousness.”

“Something like that, y-yes.” She touched the pendant. “It wasn’t until I found this that I realized I might be able to do such a thing. But until now, I’ve never had a reason to actually try it and there was no way to run an experiment. I wasn’t sure it would work.”

Slade whistled softly. “I’ll be damned. You could turn just about any psi-infused antique into a weapon.”

“Yes.”

He smiled slowly. “If word got out what you can do with antiques, it would not be good for your business.”

“That thought o-occurred to me a few years ago. That’s why I’ve never told anyone, not even my own family. You’re the only one who knows.”

He held her a little away from him. “And you’re the only one who knows what I can do with my talent.”

“D-don’t worry, I can k-keep a secret,” she whispered.

“So can I.”

“Great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have a panic attack.”

“Breathe,” Slade ordered.

“Right. I can do that.”

AT
NINE
THIRTY
THAT
NIGHT
SLADE
LOUNGED
ON Charlotte’s sofa, phone in one hand, a beer in the other. He propped his ankles on a hassock and watched the flames leap on the hearth while he gave Marlowe Jones a summary of events.

“Brody and Mack Duncan were living under fake IDs,” he said. “Took a while to find out their real names. They were picked up by the Frequency City cops this afternoon and booked on a number of charges. They’re ratting out dear old Mom as fast as they can. Thelma Duncan is in a locked ward in the para-psych wing of Frequency Memorial Hospital. Looks like she had a stroke. She’s confused and disoriented and no one thinks she’ll make a full recovery.”

“There is a detective in the Frequency Police Department who is Arcane,” Marlowe said. “He’s keeping an eye on things for me. He says that as far as the authorities are concerned, the Duncan boys and their mother were operating a small-time burglary ring that specialized in antiques.”

“All true as far as it goes,” Slade said. He caught Charlotte’s eye.

“I called the museum lab people and warned them that in addition to the Sylvester curiosity they’ll have two more hot objects to transport, the Quicksilver Mirror and the Bridewell Engine. They’re very excited.”

Slade watched Rex hop up onto the coffee table. Rex opened the clutch purse and removed the shiny, crystal-encrusted lady’s compact that Charlotte had convinced him to exchange for the gold watch. He started playing with the compact. He had not yet figured out how to open it but that did not seem to bother him. He clearly considered the project a game.

“There’s a fourth object,” Slade said. “A gold watch that seems to be able to de-rez the automaton.”

“I’ll tell the transport team.”

“That’s it for now,” Slade said. “Time to eat here.”

“Dinner? It’s nearly ten o’clock.”

“It’s been busy here on Rainshadow, what with the problem of Thelma and her boys and the poststorm cleanup. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Wait, don’t hang up. Now that your talent has, uh, stabilized, will you be going back to work for the Bureau?”

“No,” Slade said. He watched Charlotte set a plate of cheese and pickle sandwiches on the coffee table. “I won’t be going back to my old job.”

“Well, in that case,” Marlowe said smoothly, “would you be interested in working as a contract agent for Jones & Jones? I’m getting more work now since Adam and I got all that publicity a while back. I could really use someone with your professional background.” She paused a beat. “And your talent.”

Charlotte sat down next to Slade and propped her slipper-clad feet on the table. He put his arm around her and allowed himself to relax into her warm, bright energy.

“I’ll be staying here on Rainshadow,” he said. “Nice little town. I like the job. It suits me. So if I can do you any favors from here, let me know.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that,” Marlowe said. “But are you sure you want to stay on that hunk of rock there in the Amber Sea?”

Slade thought about the deep certainty that had been coalescing inside him ever since he had arrived on the island.

“I’m sure,” he said. “Good night, Marlowe.”

“See you at the wedding,” she said.

“I’ll be bringing a date.”

“Good,” Marlowe said. She sounded like she meant it. “That’s wonderful.”

He closed the phone and reached for a sandwich.

Charlotte watched him closely. “You told her you would be staying on Rainshadow.”

“I did, yes.” He took a large bite out of the sandwich.

“I’m glad,” Charlotte said. “The island needs you.”

He swallowed the bite of sandwich and looked at her. “Think so?”

“We both know now that there is something stirring out there in the Preserve. Someone needs to keep an eye on the situation. Who better than a former special agent of the FBPI?”

“I didn’t make the decision to stay on the island because of the Preserve.” He put the uneaten portion of the sandwich back on the plate. “I made it because of you.”

Charlotte went very still. “Are you certain?”

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. The day I walked off the ferry and found you waiting for me I knew it in my bones. It was as if I’d spent the past fifteen years trying to get back to you. If you leave the island, I’ll leave with you. But as long as you’re staying here, I’m staying, too. You’re my future. I love you.”

Her smile and her eyes were suddenly luminous. “Oh, Slade.”

“For most of my life, home was always where I happened to be at any given time. But when I saw you at the ferry dock last week, I knew that home is where you are. The trouble was that I had nothing to offer you. I thought I was going psi-blind. The last thing I wanted from you was pity. So I tried to tell myself that I could handle a brief affair and then walk away before you realized what was happening to me.” He took a deep breath. “But I don’t know if I could have done that.”

She touched the side of his jaw with gentle fingertips. “You would have because you would have told yourself that it was the best thing for me. And then I would have had to chase after you, which would have been very embarrassing.”

“But you would have come after me?”

“In a heartbeat,” she said. “I love you. I knew that we were meant for each other the day I watched you walk off the ferry. Actually, I knew it fifteen years ago but I told myself that it was just a teenage crush. Now I know better. It was the real thing.”

A strange, heady sensation unfurled inside him. It took him a heartbeat to recognize it because he had kept it locked away in the deepest part of his being for so long. But now that he could set it free he could give it a name.
Joy
.

“You were always there in the back of my mind,” he said. “That was why I kept the pocketknife that you gave me the morning I left town. It’s the only thing I’ve ever hung on to in my life. And now I’m going to hang on to you. I’ll never let go.”

“And I’ll never let go of you,” she vowed.

He drew her close and kissed her. The warm, bright, abiding energy of love shimmered in the atmosphere around them.

RANDOLPH
SEBASTIAN
TOOK
THE
PHONE
CALL
HE
HAD
been dreading ever since he had taken the helm of Sebastian, Inc., and been entrusted with the family secrets.

“This is Sebastian,” he said.

“Slade Attridge. I’m the new chief of police here on the island.”

Randolph tightened his grip on the phone. A chill of intuition went through him. He could tell from Attridge’s cold, controlled voice that the new police chief was a man to be reckoned with and, quite possibly, a problem.

“My assistant advised me of your identity when she put through the call,” Randolph said. “What can I do for you, Chief Attridge?”

“According to the notes left by one of my predecessors, your family controls the Rainshadow Preserve Foundation.”

“That’s correct.”

“Something is going on inside the Preserve,” Slade said. “I need to know what is happening in there.”

Alarm flashed through Randolph. After all these years the secrets of the Preserve were stirring.

“Has a section of the fence failed?” he asked. But he knew even as he asked that he was grasping at straws. “I can send out a repair crew.”

“The fence is holding, at least as far as I know.”

“I don’t understand. Has someone gotten through it? That fence was made more secure by our security people five years ago after a couple of trespassers managed to get inside. Has there been another intrusion? Do you need a search-and-rescue team?”

“No, I need answers. What does that fence protect?”

Randolph tightened his grip on the phone. He got to his feet and walked to the window of his office. He stood looking out over the city of Cadence. The headquarters of Amber Sea Trading was a modern business tower located on the outskirts of the city’s old Colonial-Era Quarter. Randolph had an excellent view of the ancient alien ruins in the heart of the city. The green quartz walls and ethereal towers sparkled in the sunlight as if they had been made of emeralds. At night the Dead City glowed with green psi, giving off enough light to illuminate the streets of the Quarter.