Abby winced and stifled a groan. So much for the faint hope that Sam would sleep through the disturbance.
“Nothing is wrong,” she said. Her voice sounded half an octave too high, even to her own ears. The book was almost dark now. She got the lid back on the box and turned to face Sam. “I had a bad dream and got up to walk off the energy. You know how it is with nightmares.”
“Yes,” he said. His tone was as cold as the energy that enveloped him. “I know how it is with nightmares. I also know that you’re lying through your teeth. Why are you trying to hide the herbal?”
“Excuse me,” she said. Her voice was firmer now. It would have been easier to pull off stern and deeply offended if she had not been standing there in a plain, unadorned cotton sleep shirt that fell to her knees. “In case it has escaped your notice, you are in my bedroom and I did not invite you in here.”
He ignored her and glided toward the dresser. When he moved into the light slanting through the windows, she saw that he was barefoot but still partially dressed in his trousers and a black T–shirt that molded to his sleek, strong shoulders. She felt very vulnerable, not to mention seriously underdressed. She was aware of another sensation as well, an excitement that was decidedly sensual in origin. Just the fallout from all the energy that you were using a minute ago, she assured herself.
A heavy dose of adrenaline and psi often had a stirring effect on all the senses, although she could not recall feeling sexually aroused when she had gone into the zone on previous occasions. Usually, she just felt jittery and agitated afterward.
It was Sam’s fault, she decided. All that powerful masculine energy emanating from him was messing with the natural wavelengths of her own aura. It was annoying. It was also unaccountably exciting.
Sam came to a halt and looked at the open box. She was intensely aware of him and the heat coming off him. He was so close now. It took an enormous amount of willpower not to touch him.
“You did something to the book, didn’t you?” Sam said. “I can sense some of the residue of the energy. You’re still jacked, too. What the hell were you doing?”
She abandoned the attempt to kick him out of the bedroom. The man was very focused.
“The book was a little hot, yes,” she admitted. She cleared her throat. “But it has gone cold now, as you can tell.”
Sam glanced at her, his eyes still burning a little with psi. His ring continued to heat with a fiery light.
“What triggered the energy in the book?” he asked.
“You know how it is with old objects that are infused with a lot of encryption energy,” she said smoothly. “It doesn’t take much to kick up a little heat.”
“This thing didn’t switch on all by itself. You got it hot, didn’t you?”
“That’s not exactly what happened.”
“What the hell were you doing? Running an experiment? Trying to break the code? You should know better than that. You’re the expert on para-books. Tests on objects known to be infused with unknown energy should be done under carefully controlled conditions, and never at night.”
He was right, she thought ruefully. As a rule, paranormal energy was usually more powerful after dark. It could also be a lot more unpredictable at night, something to do with the absence of normal daylight energy waves. But the fact that Sam was quoting one of the laws of para-physics to her while she was engaged in putting out a fire was infuriating. She was so not in the mood for this.
“You are correct, I’m the expert here,” she said, in her coldest voice. “You have absolutely no right to lecture me on the care and handling of old books.”
“So you figured you were qualified to conduct a night experiment on a highly encrypted book?”
“I was not running an experiment.” She angled her chin. “For your information, I did not deliberately trigger the energy in that thing. I was sound asleep. I woke up and saw that it was giving off some psi-light, so I got up and shut it down.”
“If you expect me to believe that book ignited all on its own, you can forget it. Tell me what the hell is going on here.”
“It’s complicated…”
Sam clamped his hand across her mouth. Furious, she glared at him. But he was not looking at her. He was watching the bedroom doorway.
The room was suddenly much, much colder. Sam’s energy, Abby thought. He was running very hot, but the bedroom was deathly cold. Something sparked at the corner of her eye. Sam’s ring.
She realized Newton had gone very still, very alert. He, too, was gazing fixedly at the doorway, looking down the short hall and into the living room.
Sam put his mouth very close to her ear. “Keep Newton quiet.”
She nodded once to show that she understood.
He took his hand off her mouth and gripped her shoulder. He squeezed gently, silently warning her to stay put. She nodded again to show she had got the message. When he took his hand off her shoulder, she was once again aware of the icy chill in the atmosphere.
She crouched beside Newton, wrapped one arm around him and put her hand over his muzzle. Newton shivered, not with fear, she thought. The energy crackling through him was the tension of the hunter.
Sam crossed the room and disappeared through the shadowed doorway.
12
IT WAS THE FAINT CLINK OF METAL OUT ON THE CONCRETE balcony that had alerted him. Even a very small amount of impact noise traveled in steel-and-concrete buildings.
Sam waited in the kitchen, watching the balcony from the shadows of the refrigerator. He gripped his most recent invention in his hand. It resembled a cell phone, but the crystal-powered device had a very different purpose. He was pretty sure that the theory behind the design was solid, but he had not yet had a chance to conduct any real-world experiments. Tonight promised to provide the opportunity for a field trial.
His intuition had been riding him hard all day. It had spiked into the hot zone after dark. He had the sense that things were moving fast, and that Abby was in danger. He had not even tried to sleep tonight. He had spent the night mentally and psychically standing guard.
Out on the balcony, a dark shadow appeared. It dropped easily down from the floor above. For a second or two, the newcomer dangled on the rope he had used for the descent. Then he stepped nimbly onto the railing and down to the floor of the balcony. It was clear he had done this kind of thing before. An expert.
He left the rope dangling and moved swiftly to the sliding glass doors. A small tool of some kind appeared in his gloved hand. A moment later, the sliding glass door slid silently open.
Chilled night air and faint currents of psi whispered into the room when the intruder entered. A talent of some kind, Sam concluded, and definitely a professional. It was a good bet that he had gained access to the building via the parking garage, always the weak point in the security system of any condo tower. Once inside, he would have had access to every floor and the roof.
The intruder moved across the room, going directly to Abby’s desk with the certainty of a man who knew his way around the condo. That raised some intriguing questions, Sam thought.
The guy had a second-story man’s sense of style. He had definitely nailed the cat-burglar look. He was dressed from head to toe in tight black clothing. A black stocking cap concealed his hair and all of his features except his eyes.
At the desk, he stopped, flicked on a small penlight and began to sort through the mail.
Sam walked out of the kitchen and around the end of the dining counter.
“No need for that,” he said. “Abby went through her mail earlier this evening.”
“What the…?” The intruder swung around, spearing the shadows with the penlight. “Who are you?”
“A friend of Abby’s.”
“No, you’re not. Abby doesn’t have any boyfriends. Who are you, and what are you doing in her place?”
“I was just going to ask you the same question.”
“Like hell.”
The intruder sp
rinted for the open slider. Sam was already moving. He managed to seize the man’s shoulder and succeeded in touching the crystal device to his arm. He sent energy into the fake cell phone. There was a small flash of paranormal lightning. The intruder grunted and started to crumple. He struggled to straighten and resume his flight to the balcony, but he fell slowly to his knees, arms wrapped around his midsection.
Sam yanked off the stocking cap, revealing platinum-blond hair cut in a short, crisp, vaguely military style.
“What the h–hell d–did you do to me?” the intruder got out, teeth chattering.
There was a sharp, excited yip. Newton charged into the room. He went straight to the intruder and started licking his face.
“Hell of a guard dog, all right,” Sam said.
Abby appeared. She had taken the time to pull on a robe. She had a large object clutched in her hands.
“Sam.” Her voice was tight and anxious. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” he said. “Get the lights.”
She flipped a wall switch, illuminating the heavy lamp she carried. Her eyes widened, first in shock and then in outrage, when she saw the man shivering in the middle of her living room.
“Nick?” She put the lamp down on the coffee table. “What in the world are you doing here?”
Nick gave her a disgusted look and continued to shudder. “Your taste in boyfriends is going downhill, Abby. This one just tried to kill me.”
Abby glanced at Sam, frowning. “Whatever you’re doing to him, you can stop, at least until I decide whether or not to call the cops.”
“He’ll be all right in a few minutes,” Sam said. “Probably.” He pocketed the crystal device. “I just temporarily shocked his senses. You know this guy?”
“Nick Sawyer,” she said. She regarded Nick with seething irritation. “And yes, I know him. You could say we’re colleagues of a sort. We both work the book market, but Nick isn’t quite as selective as I am when it comes to clients. I was, however, under the impression, until tonight, that he was my friend.”
Nick muttered something unintelligible. Newton bounced around him, waiting for the new game to begin.
“Give him a minute,” Sam said.
Nick managed to get to his feet. He was still shaky. He was about the same age as Abby, a lean, athletically built man with the sort of clean, chiseled features that could have ensured him a successful career in modeling. His silver-white hair and artificially tanned face served to enhance the vivid blue of his eyes.
He shot a hooded look at Sam, did a quick assessment of the situation and evidently concluded that his best option lay in an appeal to Abby.
“Sorry about this, sweetie,” he said. “I thought you were out of town.”
“That’s supposed to excuse what you just did?” Abby waved a hand toward the open slider. “You just broke into my home. You’d better start talking, and fast, or I’m going to call the police, I swear it.”
Nick exhaled heavily and leaned over to scratch Newton behind the ears. “Take it easy, sweetie. I can explain everything. You know you’re not going to call the cops.”
“Before you say another word,” Abby warned, “if you call me sweetie one more time, I will use that lamp on your head.”
“It’s a little complicated, sweet—uh, Abby.”
“I think we can uncomplicate this thing real fast,” Sam said. “Tell us why you broke in here tonight.”
Nick scowled. “Who is this guy, Abby? I can’t believe he’s a new boyfriend. Definitely not your type.”
“Talk,” Sam said. “Fast.”
Nick shot him an irritated look. “I didn’t break in, I let myself in.”
“That wasn’t a key you used to open the slider,” Sam said.
“Abby and I are old friends.” Nick turned back to Abby and flashed a smile that was as brilliant as his hair. “Isn’t that right?”
“We both know that I never gave you a key to my home,” Abby said. “Gwen has a spare, but you don’t. Why are you here?”
“Believe it or not, just looking out for you. There’s a real hot book floating around. Some kind of lab notebook dealing with crystal experiments. It’s supposed to be about forty years old, and rumor has it that it’s encrypted. If that’s the case, there’s a good chance that some of the people who are after it will be trying to hire you.”
“Don’t give me that blather about looking out for me,” Abby snapped. “You’re trying to locate that book yourself, aren’t you? You came here hoping that you would find a lead.”
“So you are working that job.” Nick jerked a thumb at Sam. “He’s a new client, isn’t he? What’s going on here? You never let clients into your home.”
“You know, I really don’t have to answer your questions,” Abby said. “You are supposed to be explaining why you are here in my living room.”
Nick shrugged. “Like I said, just looking out for your best interests.”
“I got that much,” Abby said, bristling with impatience. “Tell me the rest of it.”
“Okay, okay, calm down. I don’t know a whole lot more than what I just told you. I don’t have a client yet, but the word on the street is that the book is worth a fortune to more than one person. Figured if I got to it first I could hold an auction. This could be the big one for me.”
“Where did you hear the rumors of the book?” Sam asked.
“Like I’m going to tell you that,” Nick muttered.
Sam took the aura-suppression device out of his pocket.
Nick looked bored. “The rumors cropped up in the usual places online. Tell him, Abby.”
Abby folded her arms. “There are chat rooms where collectors and dealers exchange gossip and leads. I haven’t had a chance to check out the usual suspects lately, because I’ve been preoccupied with my own problems. Guess I’d better visit some of the online sites.”
“What have you heard about the collectors who are after the encrypted book?” Sam asked.
“Damn it, who is this guy, Abby?” Nick demanded.
“The name is Sam Coppersmith,” Sam said.
He was still trying to get past the comment about not looking like Abby’s type. It occurred to him that no one would think it odd if a cat burglar fell from a tenth-floor balcony while engaged in an act of breaking and entering. Stuff happened. Abby, however, would probably not approve of that disposal plan. She clearly had a history with Nick Sawyer. So did Newton.
“Coppersmith.” Nick frowned. “Name rings a faint bell. How did you find Abby?”
“She found me,” Sam said.
“You’re a talent of some kind.” Nick gave him an accusing look and then turned back to Abby. “You never trust strangers.”
“Sam was referred to me by Thaddeus,” Abby said. “Or maybe it would be more correct to say that I was referred to Sam. Either way, Thaddeus vouched for him.”
“Okay, so Webber approved him. That still doesn’t explain what he’s doing here in your apartment at two o’clock in the morning. You never let your dates stay over.”
Abby flushed. “I thought I made it clear, Sam is not a date. My arrangement with him is strictly business.”
“You never let clients do sleepovers, either. What the hell is going on here, Abby? Why did Webber send you to him?”
“If you must know, Thaddeus thinks I may be in some danger because of that book you’re looking for,” Abby said.
“Damn it, I knew this had something to do with that lab book. You should have come to me.”
“I’ve been a little busy,” Abby said. “Someone is blackmailing me.”
“Shit,” Nick growled. “Who?”
“That’s where I come in,” Sam said. “I’m going to find the bastard.”
Nick frowned. “But you’re after that old lab book, aren’t you?”
“That, too,” Sam said. “But the two projects go together.”
Nick looked at Abby. “Sounds like you’ve fallen into the deep end.”
“Yes,” Abby says. “It appears that is the case.”
“There are some real sharks out there. Are you sure you trust this guy to take care of you?”
“Yes,” Abby said.
Sam told himself that he should take heart from that simple response.
“What is the bastard using as the extortion threat?” Nick said. “You’ve always been squeaky-clean. You don’t even get parking tickets.”
“He knows about my time at the Summerlight Academy and why I was sent there, and he knows who my father is. You know what would happen if my past suddenly became an issue in the media. It could ruin Dad’s chance at the reality series.”
“Screw it,” Nick said. “Let your father take care of himself. You don’t owe him or anyone else in that family a damn thing. They don’t deserve your loyalty. Hell, even if they knew that you were trying to protect them, they wouldn’t appreciate your efforts.”
“It’s not just about protecting them,” Abby said. “We’re not entirely certain yet, but it looks like the blackmailer may know exactly how I took down Grady Hastings in Mrs. Vaughn’s library. If he knows what I can do with encryption energy and decides to fire up rumors about me in the chat rooms, he could destroy my business.”
“Okay, that would not be good,” Nick said. “But according to the rumors, this lab book is attracting some dangerous collectors. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“She won’t,” Sam said. “That’s why I’m here.”
“I’ll be okay, Nick,” Abby said. “I think you’d better leave. It’s late.”
“All right, I’m going.” Nick gave Sam one last glare and then turned back to Abby. “But promise me you’ll call me if you need backup.”
“I will,” she said. “By the way, please use the stairs on your way out. I don’t want any of my neighbors to wake up and see you climbing past their balconies from this floor. I’ve got my reputation to consider.”
“Yeah, right.” Nick coughed. “I, uh, left some of my stuff out on the balcony.”
“Get it,” Sam said. “And then go.”
Nick pretended not to hear the order, but he went out onto the balcony and collected the rock-climbing equipment. When he came back inside, Sam followed him down the short hall and into the small foyer. Newton accompanied them.
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