Midnight Crystal (18 page)
Authors: Jayne Castle
He went through the doorway into the darkened shop, his senses fully aroused by the combination of the dark psi leaking out of the lamp and Marlowe’s disturbingly feminine energy. Nothing like the hot mix of sex and power to distract a man.
Which was, he concluded, an instant later, why it took him a couple of seconds too long to realize that something was very wrong.
Energy crashed through the atmosphere. He recognized it at once—ghost fire, a lot of it. He turned, intending to get Marlowe back down the basement stairs to safety.
But it was too late. Paranormal flames erupted in the darkness, encircling them, cutting off the possibility of retreating into the safety of the tunnels.
Chapter 22
TWO SHADOWY FIGURES APPEARED ON THE OTHER side of the circle of green fire.
Ghost hunters,
Marlowe thought. Only men with a talent for manipulating the alien psi that infused the underworld could channel the stuff into weapons outside the catacombs. But in theory no hunter, regardless of how powerful he was, could generate this much psi aboveground.
Ghost hunters,
Marlowe thought. Only men with a talent for manipulating the alien psi that infused the underworld could channel the stuff into weapons outside the catacombs. But in theory no hunter, regardless of how powerful he was, could generate this much psi aboveground.
Through the flaring ring of green psi flames she could see that each man gripped an object in his hand. At first she thought they were holding flashlights. But the devices were emitting a hot green light that was the same eerie hue as ghost energy.
“Stay close,” Adam said quietly.
She did not argue. She stood next to him, touching him. His fierce features were etched in acid green light and the darkest of shadows. His eyes burned with a cold green fire that somehow appeared more dangerous than the energy flaring around them.
Adam looked through the encroaching flames at the two men generating the fire.
“You do realize that this much ghost light is going to attract attention out there on the street, sooner or later,” Adam said.
“You don’t have to worry about it,” one of the men said. “You’re going to be a dead man soon.”
“So will you,” Adam said. “Drake and O’Conner sure as hell won’t let you live after you take care of me. You know too much.”
“Shut up,” one of the men snarled.
“Finish it,” the first man ordered. “Hurry. We can’t risk hanging around here long.”
The circle of flames tightened. Marlowe felt the crackling energy snapping and hissing at her senses. Psi fire was more like lightning than flames. Sometimes you could survive a burn, but too much was lethal.
“This is a waste of time,” Adam said. “I’d really like some answers, but I don’t think this pair is going to be helpful.”
The flood tide of nightmare energy caught her by surprise, roaring across her senses. Shocked, she realized in a dazed way that Adam was generating the violent energy. The fact that she was in physical contact with him meant that she was catching the full brunt of the storm.
She sucked in a breath and took a step back so that her shoulder was no longer touching his arm.
The screaming started. She turned to look at the two ghost hunters. They were keening in terror. Their bodies jerked and twitched. The flashlights fell from their hands and winked out.
The circle of fire evaporated, but the awful screaming continued for another few seconds before it ceased. Both hunters collapsed, unconscious, on the floor.
The cascading nightmares stopped as suddenly as they had begun.
Adam went to the first man, crouching to check for a pulse.
“This one’s still alive,” he said. He rose and checked the second hunter. “So is this one.” He looked at her, his eyes still demon-hot. “Are you all right?”
She took a deep breath and concentrated on lowering her frazzled senses.
“Yes,” she said. She took another breath. “That was a demonstration of the second aspect of your talent, I take it?”
His expression tightened. “You caught some of the backwash, didn’t you?”
“Hard to avoid it under the circumstances. The physical contact acted like a channel of sorts. But I’m okay, really.”
Adam took out his phone and punched in a code. Whoever he called must have answered on the first ring, because he started issuing orders immediately, crisp, sharp commands that rang with authority.
Marlowe leaned against the counter to steady herself. By the time she had her breathing back to a level that more or less resembled normal, Adam had closed his phone. He looked at her from the other side of the room.
“There’s a Bureau team on the way to collect these two,” he said. “We can leave as soon as they get here. But I don’t want them to see you or the artifact, so you’re going to wait down below.”
“I don’t understand. You don’t want the Bureau people to know that we found the lamp?”
“Not yet. Given what just happened, I’m going to assume that there is at least a possibility that Fortner has a leak somewhere in his organization.”
“But you’re going to let the Bureau take these two into custody?”
“I don’t have much choice. Not like I can call the cops. I can’t explain my own presence here in a dead man’s shop, let alone why a couple of ghost hunters tried to take me out.”
She walked to one of the unconscious men, crouched, braced herself, and touched his forehead gingerly. The dreamlight pattern was steady but at very low tide.
She stood and crossed to the second man and put her fingertips on his forehead.
“I’ve seen this kind of pattern before,” she said, straightening. “It’s typical of a deep state of unconsciousness. It could be a couple of days or longer before either of them wakes up. When they do, I doubt that they’ll remember much of anything about what happened here tonight.”
“All I want from them is information, but that’s the one thing I probably won’t get.”
She circled the fallen hunters, studying their dreamlight. “There’s something wrong with these currents.”
“As you just pointed out, both men are unconscious.”
“No, something else.” She leaned down for a closer look. “I see the same kind of disturbance in these prints that I saw in the killer’s tracks.”
He scooped up the odd flashlights and walked across the room to join her. “Any idea what’s going on?”
“No.” She glanced at the flashlights. “But until we know otherwise, I think we should assume that the warping in the currents is linked to whatever those things are.”
He unscrewed the top of the flashlight and held it up to the light from the window. Marlowe peered over his shoulder.
“It’s a crystal of some kind,” she said. “That settles it, whatever you do, don’t try to activate it. You’d better warn your lab people not to run any human tests on it, either. Tell them to stick to instrument analysis.”
Adam frowned. “Are you sure the crystals caused the damage in the prints of those two men?”
“No, but there’s enough old history regarding crystal weapons to make me very cautious. I think it would be best not to take any chances.”
“All right.” He screwed the top of the flashlight onto the handle. “But I think these things may explain how this pair managed to rez so much psi outside the tunnels. Supposed to be damn near impossible to pull that much ghost light aboveground.”
“I think you’re right. They were using the crystals to enhance their natural talent for manipulating ghost light.”
“I’ll send these devices to the Bureau lab,” Adam said. “See what the techs can tell me.”
“Just to clarify something here,” she said coolly. “You can send one of those flashlights to the Bureau lab. I get one for the Arcane lab.”
“This is a Bureau operation, Marlowe.”
“Not any longer. It became a joint Bureau–J&J operation when I agreed to help you look for the lamp.” She tapped the artifact she held in the crook of her arm. “Let it be noted that I’m holding up my end of the bargain.”
“The fewer people who know what’s going on, the better.”
“I agree. But as you just said, there’s a possibility that you may have a leak in the Bureau. Might be a mistake to trust all of the evidence to that lab. There’s something else to consider, as well.”
He eyed her with obvious skepticism. “What’s that?”
“As I keep reminding you, Arcane has been conducting research into the paranormal since the seventeenth century, Earth time. We’ve got a lot more expertise in the field than anyone else around, including the Bureau. Admit it.”
He thought about that for a beat or two. “You can have one of these gadgets. But I want a guarantee that you’ll keep it under the strictest security.”
“Give me a break. The one thing Arcane knows how to do is keep secrets.”
“I seem to recall that over the years the Society has had a few problems keeping the founder’s formula under wraps,” he said.
“Well, it isn’t like the Winters family hasn’t had a few security issues of its own. You can’t even hang on to the lamp.”
The sound of a vehicle in the alley distracted them. They both looked toward the rear door of the shop.
“That’ll be the Bureau team,” Adam said.
Marlowe held out one hand. “We have a deal.”
His jaw tightened but he put one of the crystal flashlights in her palm.
“I want your word that I’ll get the full report and lab analysis,” he said. “Not a scrubbed version.”
“I want the same promise from you.”
He nodded. “Deal.”
Chapter 23
“ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE OKAY?” HE ASKED.
“I’m fine,” Marlowe said. “You’re the one who just went through a major burn.”
He was amazed by the cool, steady tone of her voice. In spite of all she’d been through tonight, in spite of what she had just watched him do to the two men who had attacked them, she was still in control. Definitely the sexiest woman he had ever met. It was all he could do not to stop the sled and pull her into his arms.
They were on their way back through the tunnels. It had taken less than ten minutes to brief the Bureau team and send the two unconscious hunters together with one of the strange flashlights off to the lab at Bureau headquarters.
He whipped the sled around another corner. Marlowe grabbed the dashboard to steady herself.
“Out of sheer curiosity, when did you discover the second aspect of your talent?” she asked.
She was bound and determined not to refer to it as his second talent, he thought.
“The usual way,” he said. “By accident. Remember the jungle drug lab case I told you about? The one I was working when I sensed the mirror maze?”
“Yes.”
“In the course of the raid, things went wrong. One of my people was taken hostage by the drug lord who was running the lab. The guy had a knife at Harry’s throat. They were both about fifteen feet away. Suddenly I just knew how to stop the man with the knife.”
“You hit him with a wave of nightmare energy?”
“He didn’t even scream, the way those two did tonight. He just collapsed and died on the spot.”
“Did the members of your team know what you did?” she asked.
“No. They figured the man suffered a stroke or a heart attack.” He frowned, thinking about the incident. “But Harry didn’t get the blowback the way you did tonight. He didn’t feel anything, even though the guy with the knife was standing right beside him.”
“Maybe the only reason I got singed was because of my talent. I was running hot when you hit that hunter with the nightmare energy. My senses were wide-open.”
He tightened his hands on the wheel. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m very sensitive to dreamlight, but I’ve also got a very strong ability to manipulate it. I was able to protect myself. Don’t worry about me. We need to stay focused.”
She was right, he thought. The problem was that he could not stay focused, not when she was so close to him and the artifact was summoning him in ways he could not explain. He thought about the old legend as he brought the sled to a halt near his private hole-in-the-wall.
Marlowe slipped off the bench seat and stood looking at him. “Speaking of the Burning Lamp myth, there are a couple of details of the traditional version of the legend that we should talk about.”
Other books
The Lost Wife by Alyson Richman
Love Falls by Esther Freud
You Cannoli Die Once by Shelley Costa
The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf by Martin Millar
The Willful Princess and the Piebald Prince by Robin Hobb
Foxes by Suki Fleet
Texas Heat by Barbara McCauley
The Unreasoning Mask by Philip Jose Farmer
Bound by Rothert, Brenda
The Lost King by Margaret Weis
