“Maybe.” But it didn’t feel quite right, he thought. “I’ll have more for you after they wake up and I’ve had a chance to question them.”

“Wake up?” Marlowe’s voice sharpened. “They’re both asleep? You said they just got locked up. How many criminals take a nap shortly after being arrested? They should be busy calling their bail bondsmen and their lawyers.”

“Turns out we don’t have a lot of bail bondsmen and lawyers on the island. There was a bit of a scuffle when I took the bad guys down. I’m going to have to let you go. I’ve got a lot to do here between trying to close out my case and prepare for the storm.”

“What does this have to do with a storm?” Marlowe demanded.

“Big one coming in tonight. Tomorrow there will be a lot of downed trees blocking roads and causing power outages. Probably a fair amount of wind damage.”

“So?”

“The local police department is the closest thing Rainshadow has to an emergency response agency. I’ve got one officer and a secretary. Come dawn, we’re all going to be busy doing damage assessment and checking on some of the folks who live in the more remote sections of the island. Lots of our residents tend to be a bit eccentric and reclusive. Some of them don’t even have phones. I’ll call you when I have more information.”

“I see.” Marlowe cleared her throat. “How are you doing there on Rainshadow? Is the new job working out for you?”

“Working out fine,” Slade said.

“Good. That’s good. Glad to hear it.” She paused delicately. “Are you feeling all right?”

“If you’re asking me about my para-senses, which I assume is your real question, they haven’t deteriorated any further.”

“I’m so glad. Adam told me about what the explosion did to your senses. I’m so very sorry.”

She meant well, Slade thought, but the sympathy in her voice was annoying.

“My talent has stabilized, at least for now,” he said. He kept his own voice cool and even, making it clear he was not inviting any more conversation on the topic. Good-bye, Marlowe. Give my best to Adam. I’ll see you both at the wedding.”

“Wait, don’t hang up—”

Slade closed the phone.

ADAM WINTERS TURNED AWAY FROM THE WINDOW and watched Marlowe put down the phone. He could tell from the tightness at the edges of her eyes that she was annoyed. He loved looking at her, he thought, regardless of her mood. She never ceased to fascinate him. Her energy worked magic.

Evidently sensing that she was irritated, Gibson, Marlowe’s dust bunny companion, vaulted up onto the desk and offered her a High-Rez Energy Bar from his precious stash. Gibson was a member of the High-Rez Energy Bar of the Month Club. He received a box of the treats every four weeks, courtesy of the Frequency City Ghost Hunters Guild. Gibson had helped save the Underworld but figuring out how to thank a dust bunny for service above and beyond the call of duty was no easy task. He seemed thrilled with his monthly energy bar shipments, though.

“Thanks, Gibson,” Marlowe said. Her expression lightened with affection. She accepted the energy bar and switched her attention back to Adam as she started to unwrap the snack. “Slade said to give you his best. Said he’d see us at the wedding.”

Adam raised his brows. “He said he would be coming to our wedding?”

“Uh-huh.” Marlowe took a bite of the energy bar. “Seemed in pretty good spirits for a guy who is supposed to be going psiblind.”

“Is that so?”

“Said he was busy there on Rainshadow. Thinks he’s got the clockwork curiosities case almost closed at his end. Of course, I’ve still got a lot of work to do. I need to find out if there are any more of those Bridewell toys floating around. One of the real problems is that none of the Arcane museums have accurate records of what artifacts were brought through the Curtain legally, let alone what collectors might have smuggled.”

“You said Slade sounded good?”

“Yes.”

“Did he mention the status of his talent?”

Marlowe munched reflectively for a time. “Said his talent had stabilized.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“He said a couple of other things, too. He referred to Rainshadow as his island.”

Adam nodded. “He’s taking his job seriously. That’s Slade. He’s a lawman to the bone.”

Marlowe gave the foil wrapper from the energy bar to Gibson, who chortled and raced off to add it to his collection of wrappers.

“Slade said something else, too,” Marlowe volunteered.

“What?”

“He told me that the two hunter-talents he has in jail won’t be a problem for regular law enforcement after they wake up.”

“They’re asleep?”

“From what I can gather they fell asleep during what Slade referred to as a scuffle that occurred when he took them down.”

“That would have been when they were holding Charlotte Enright hostage with the intent to kill her.”

“Yes.”

Adam smiled slowly. “And now he’s not the least bit concerned that they may be able to use their talent to escape jail.”

“Nope.” Marlowe ate the last of the energy bar. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That Slade’s talent has not only stabilized but that it may be of a slightly different nature than it was before he was caught in that explosion? Yes, that is exactly what I’m thinking.”

“Think it’s going to be a problem?”

“No,” Adam said. “I know him. He got the protect-and-defend gene. It’s encoded in his DNA.”

“The ability to psiblind another talent is heavy-duty stuff.”

“No more heavy duty than our ability to work the Burning Lamp.”

“Okay,” Marlowe allowed. “I’ll give you that.”

“For obvious reasons we will not be making our speculations known to others,” Adam said.

“Absolutely not. People would freak. I wonder if those two hunter-talents will ever figure out why they both went blind.”

“If they’ve got any sense they’ll realize they got off lightly.”

Marlowe frowned. “Think so?”

“I know what I’d do to anyone who threatened to murder you,” Adam said simply.

“Oh.” She smiled. “Right. They’re lucky to be alive, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Adam said. “But, then, there’s probably a reason for that, as well.”

“What reason would that be?”

“Slade wants information from them.”

“Ah, yes.” Marlowe nodded. “Of course.”

“Like I said, he’s a natural-born crime fighter.”

The office door opened. Rick Pratt, Marlowe’s administrative assistant, put his head around the corner.

“Don’t forget your appointment with the wedding planner, boss,” Rick said. “You and Mr. Winters are due in her office in twenty minutes. Big decision today regarding the flowers.”

Adam groaned. “You know, this would be so much simpler if we just eloped.”

Rick gave him a stern look. “You can’t elope. You’re a Guild boss and this is a full Covenant Marriage ceremony. Your wedding to Marlowe is going to be the social event of the season here in Frequency.”

“I’ve heard that,” Adam said.

Marlowe laughed. “Come on, how hard can it be to choose a few flowers?”

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