“In other words, you think that one of them hypnotized the mayor into carrying the smoke bomb into my shop and exploding it,” Raine said.
“Right.” Zack shrugged. “Which is why, when Her Honor came around, she had no memory of what she had done.”
Raine looked at him. “What are we going to tell her? What are we going to tell Bradley, for that matter?”
Zack stretched his legs out toward the fire and rested his elbows on the arms of the chair. He put his fingertips together.
“The simplest story is usually the best,” he said. “Mitchell will soon realize he can’t do anything with a drug charge because there is no evidence of illegal drugs. But what do you think about promoting the notion that Cassidy and Niki planned to kidnap the mayor and hold her for ransom?”
Raine blinked. “I think Mayor Escott would love it. Talk about great publicity for the upcoming election.”
Calvin grinned. “Very creative, Jones.”
“Cassidy and Niki will deny it,” Raine pointed out.
Calvin uttered a half-amused little sound. “They’ll deny everything. So what? They’ll both be in padded cells within a couple of days.”
“Wonder why they decided to grab me,” Raine said.
“Sheer desperation,” Zack said. “The idea was to watch you as closely as possible to see if you inherited whatever it is that Lawrence Quinn hoped to get from Vella. You were the only link left. When I showed up, it merely confirmed their theory that you knew something vitally important. They decided they couldn’t afford to wait and allow J&J to get the secret from you.”
“Those poor women,” Raine whispered.
The men exchanged looks. Neither spoke.
Raine sipped her tea and lowered the cup. She frowned a little at Zack. “You said the Arcane labs have a sample of the formula that they’ve been studying. They must know a lot about it by now. Isn’t there anything your experts could do to save Cassidy and Niki?”
Zack looked at her over the tips of his fingers. He seemed baffled by the question. “You want to save that pair? Cassidy Cutler is probably indirectly responsible for the murder of Lawrence Quinn, and it’s a good bet she’s the one who ran down the illusion talent the other night. She tried to kill Pandora and kidnap you. Niki was her accomplice in everything that took place.”
Raine pulled her robe more tightly around herself. “It’s just that the prospect of going insane is so terrifying. My aunt believed that she was hovering at the edge of it for years, and it was my own worst nightmare for a long time. The thought of letting someone else, anyone else, face that abyss makes me ill.”
Zack glanced at Calvin.
Calvin raised his massive shoulders. “Don’t look at me. How the heck should I know if they’ve come up with an antidote?”
Zack hesitated a moment longer, then, reluctantly, he unclipped his phone. “I’ll see if Fallon knows anything about the status of the research.”
Fifty-three
She was in bed, Batman and Robin curled up at her feet, when she heard his phone ring. The sound was muffled by the closed door of the hall bathroom and the rush of water in the shower. The water was turned off abruptly. She heard the low rumble of Zack’s voice.
A few minutes later he walked into the bedroom. He was naked except for a towel around his waist. His hair was damp. He stopped beside the bed, grim-faced.
“That was Fallon,” he said. “He checked with the head of the lab that is studying the sample of the drug that turned up in the Stone Canyon case. The most they’ve been able to determine is that the stuff is inert on its own. They think it has to be combined with some other ingredient in order to work. No one knows what the missing ingredient is or how it’s taken.”
“In other words, the researchers haven’t even begun to think about an antidote,” Raine said.
“No.”
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillows. “Niki and Cassidy are doomed to go insane and probably kill themselves.”
“Yes.”
There was a long silence. She opened her eyes and saw that he was watching her with the expression of a man who knows he has failed.
“I’m sorry, Raine,” he said wearily. “I know this was important to you.”
She sat up abruptly, appalled. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, don’t look at me like that. It’s not your fault. I knew it was a long shot. Thank you for making the call.”
He said nothing. She reached up, grabbed his hand and tugged at him until he sank down on the side of the bed.
“I thought we agreed last night that we couldn’t save everyone,” she said gently.
“You want the truth? I didn’t give a damn about saving Cutler and Plumer. They tried to kidnap you. They would have killed you once they got what they wanted from you. Or even if they didn’t get it, for that matter. Far as I’m concerned, they can jump out a window or rot in an institution for the rest of their lives.”
Sometimes she forgot about the ruthless streak of icy pragmatism that ran through him. It was probably one of the reasons everyone thought he would make an excellent Master. Compassion and vision were all well and good in a leader but they tended to be useless qualities unless they were coupled with a will of steel.
“I understand,” she said quietly. “You made the call to Fallon for my sake. It didn’t work so that’s the end of it. In addition to not being able to save everyone, you’re going to have to learn another lesson.”
“What’s that?”
“Unlike inside Nightshade, failure actually is an option in life. Failure happens. It’s how we learn and change and grow. If you don’t give yourself room to fail, Zack, you’ll live your life inside an iron cage that will gradually get smaller and smaller until you can’t even breathe.”
He gave her a suspicious look. “Where is this going?”
“Calvin told me that the Council thinks you’re the best candidate the Society has to take the Master’s Chair.”
“Damn.” He looked thoroughly disgusted. “Calvin told you about that?”
“I haven’t known you very long but I think he’s right.”
“There are others who can handle the position of Master.”
“Maybe, but you’re the one the Council wants.” She stomped down hard on the wistful sensation unfurling deep inside. “Heck, you’re perfect for the job, what with you being a Jones and a mirror talent and so good at giving orders and all.”
His jaw tightened. “Jenna showed me that I wasn’t nearly as good as I thought I was.”
“Get real. From what you told me, it sounds like she got past all of the Society’s security systems and safeguards, and I’m sure there are a number of them. You were the one who caught her, Zack. It was your talent and intelligence that prevented a Nightshade spy from marrying the next Master of the Arcane Society.”
“It was so damn close,” he said quietly.
“Sometimes things are close. Take what happened today, for example.”
He wrapped his big hand around hers and crushed her fingers gently. “Don’t worry, I won’t ever forget how close that was.”
“It’s clear that the Society will not only be fighting for its very existence in the next few years, but for the rest of us, psychic and nonpsychic, as well. You said yourself it’s the only organization that currently takes Nightshade seriously. Until you can line up some allies, you and your Council will have your work cut out. You can’t walk away from your responsibility, and deep down, I don’t think you really want to do that, anyway.”
He gave her a look of sheer, wondering disbelief. “Did my grandfather send you around on a recruiting mission, by any chance?”
She smiled, trying to mask the sense of loss that was threatening to well up inside.
“No,” she said. “I came to the conclusion all on my own.”
He was silent for a long time—so long that she began to worry.
Eventually he stirred. “You know, an antidote to Nightshade’s version of the formula would be
incredibly valuable.”
“For saving people like Cassidy and Niki, you mean?”
“No. Because among other things, it would send a clear message to the inner circle of Nightshade that the Society has a few tricks of its own up its sleeve. In addition, knowing that an antidote exists would help undermine Nightshade’s hold over its operatives. It might encourage some defections. We could sure use some inside information.”
“Hadn’t thought about that.” She wrapped her arms around her knees. “Face it, Jones. You were born to lead the Society in this generation.”
He didn’t answer. Instead she felt energy pulse, enveloping her in his exciting force field. Her own senses leaped in response.
Zack stood, doused the lights, dropped the towel and got into bed.
When he came to her he was hot to the touch and fully aroused. He trapped her legs with one muscled thigh. She heard two soft thumps and realized that Batman and Robin had vacated the bed, no doubt annoyed by the disturbance.
And then Zack was kissing her, his mouth hard and fierce and demanding on hers. Invisible energy flared, overlapping and mingling. His, mine and ours, she thought. It seemed to her that when they made love their combined energy patterns extended further and deeper into the paranormal spectrum than either of them could go alone. She did not understand it; she knew only that when he made love to her she was able to savor a greater range of sensations through all her senses. In addition she was certain that she picked up some of what he was feeling, and vice versa. The effect added a dazzling dimension to their lovemaking.
He took her nipple between his teeth and tugged gently. She caught her breath as the delicious tension built swiftly.
“Tell me you feel it,” he said against her breast. “Tell me I’m not alone here.”
She lifted her hips against his hardened body and clung to him, glorying in the powerfully muscled contours of his back.
“Are you sure you don’t read minds?” she whispered.
“Not possible.” He moved down her body, dropping hot, wet kisses on her belly. “Just ask the experts.”
He went lower. The next thing she knew his mouth was on the inside of her thigh. A jolt of uncertainty bordering on panic went through her. She sank her fingers into his hair, trying to tug him back up along her body.
“Zack, wait—”
“Tell me I’m not alone in this,” he ordered softly.
Now his tongue was on her tight, exquisitely sensitive clitoris and she thought she would fly apart into a thousand glittering shards.
“Tell me,” he repeated, sliding two fingers into her. He probed gently.
Outrageous excitement flashed through her senses. She couldn’t stand this much longer, she thought. She couldn’t tolerate another second of it.
“Yes. Yes, I feel it, too.” She tightened her grip in his hair, abandoning herself to the intimate kiss. “I think the experts may have some more research to do.”
An instant later her release swept through her and she came apart in his hands. Somewhere someone shrieked softly in the night. She realized vaguely that it was her own voice she heard.
Before the world had even begun to come into focus he shifted onto his back, taking her with him. His hands were damp from her body. He slid his palms down her sides and closed his fingers around her buttocks. He sheathed himself slowly, relentlessly.
She wanted to tell him it was too soon, that she was still too sensitized from the orgasm but she couldn’t get the words out. She could feel him going deep, stretching her, filling her. It was too much.
“No,” she gasped.
“Yes,” he said.
Without warning another series of tremors spilled through her. This time he followed her over the edge, pumping heavily into her. For a timeless moment they flew together through a realm where light and darkness and every color in between swirled together in a whirlpool of sensual pleasure.
She could not have him forever, she thought. The Society had first claim on him. But she would hold on to as much of him as she could get for as long as possible.
Fifty-four
PORTLAND, OREGON, 6:30 A. M…
John Stilwell Nash was in the locker room of his club, dressing after an intense workout, when his phone rang. He paused, his shirt half-buttoned, and checked the coded number on the screen. He recognized it immediately. He was about to hear the results of the Oriana operation. Adrenaline and dread gripped him.
He opened the phone slowly, ambivalent about whether or not he wanted to hear good news. Good news meant that January had succeeded. Success would strengthen her position within the organization. Good news meant that she would become an even more serious threat to him. Good news meant that he would be forced to find a clever way to get rid of her without revealing himself. That would not be easy.
On the other hand, good news meant that he would be the first to get his hands on the Tallentyre information. That would give him incredible power.
“The Oriana operation has failed,” the voice on the other end of the connection said. “Both operatives were apprehended by the local authorities. Criminal charges were filed.”
Nash convulsively tightened his grip on the phone. The bitch had failed…. Be careful what you wish for…
“What about the operatives?” he asked, keeping his tone icy cold.
“Both are deteriorating rapidly. It is unlikely either will survive more than a few days at most.”
He was suddenly flooded with relief, shaking with reaction. He sank down onto a bench and forced himself to breathe slowly. The bitch would soon be dead. That was worth a lot.
As badly as he wanted to obtain the information Lawrence Quinn had promised to get from Vella Tallentyre, it had become clear in the course of the operation that Cassidy Cutler was a serious threat. The great fear that had been eating at his guts for the past few weeks at last began to subside.
“What about the Tallentyre data?” he asked, concealing any hint of emotion with an effort of will. “Does it exist or was Quinn wrong?”
There was a short, ominous silence before the voice on the other end of the connection spoke again.
“We don’t know yet. J&J still has a man on the ground in Oriana so we must assume that if the data does exist, it is now or soon will be in the Society’s hands.”
The entire room turned a bloody shade of red. He lurched to his feet, picked up the nearest object, a shoe, and hurled it at a locker.
“What’s that noise?” the person on the other end asked uneasily….
…Stupid, stupid, stupid. You can’t lose control…
“Nothing,” he said, recovering his flat tone. “A shoe fell out of a locker.”
“Is there someone else there, listening to this call?” Alarm flashed in the formerly cold voice.
“No, of course not. Forget it. You do realize what this means, don’t you? If the Society has the Tallentyre information and if Quinn was right about its potential, we have a problem.”
“Yes,” the voice said.
He was suddenly sweating. This wasn’t just a minor setback or even a simple failure. It could prove to be a full-blown disaster.
“I’ll be in touch,” he said.
He ended the call and stood, fighting to control his rage and panic. It would be okay. Cassidy Cutler had maneuvered hard to take the credit for the Oriana project. So be it. He would make damn sure all the blame fell on her. Luckily he had analyzed the risks involved ahead of time and taken care to keep his distance. He had planned to wait until success was assured before he claimed the victory.
He’d had a very close call.
One good thing had come of the mess, he reminded himself. At least he was rid of that very scary bitch.
Fifty-five
She was rinsing her hair under a hot, steamy shower, contemplating the simple pleasure of breakfast with Zack, when a cold draft warned her she was not alone in the bathroom.
“I sense another presence in this room,” she inton
ed in dark, theatrical tones. “An unseen being has entered. Speak, oh, unseen being.”
“You’re right,” Zack said from the other side of the shower curtain. “I am going to take the Master’s Chair.”
She went very cold beneath the hot water. Her chest suddenly felt tight. She thrust her face under the torrent to wash away the incipient tears. She had known this was coming, she reminded herself. This was the way things had to be. It was the right way. The Society needed him. She would live in the present as long as possible and not think about the future. An affair with Zack might last a very long time. Months. Years.
Who was she kidding? Sooner or later he would marry and that would be the end of their relationship.
“That’s good,” she managed. “You’ll make a terrific Master.”
He pulled the curtain aside. She saw that he was wearing trousers but nothing else. She was very conscious of her own nudity.
“Now I want to know what you’re going to do about us,” he said.
Automatically she held the small washcloth in front of her breasts while she tried to come to grips with his question.
“I don’t understand,” she said, going blank.
“Yesterday afternoon when you were in danger, I knew it. The other night when the illusion talent attacked me, you were aware that I was in trouble.”
“Weird, huh?”
“There’s some kind of psychic bond between us and it’s getting stronger. Don’t know about you, but it sure as hell hasn’t ever been like that for me before. Not with anyone else.”
She blinked. “Not even with Jenna?”
“Not even close with Jenna. What about you?”
“No,” she whispered. “Not with anyone.”
“So, what are you going to do about it?” he asked softly.
She needed to think, to get her act together, and she couldn’t do that standing there, naked, in front of him.
“Uh, could we talk about this later?” she asked without much hope. “At breakfast, maybe?”
“This thing between us isn’t going to go away,” he said quietly. “I think you know that as well as I do. It runs too deep. I can feel it right down in my bones.”
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