“I used the relic on him.”
“That ruby amber thing? How did you do that?”
“It’s hard to explain.” She paused. “Trig?”
“Yeah?”
“I think that’s what the relic does. It allows a person to manipulate someone else’s psychic energy waves. It may have been some sort of alien medical device.”
“Weird.”
“Not so weird when you think about it. The aliens were obviously heavily into psi energy. Figures they would have needed some therapeutic technologies to deal with various kinds of psychic trauma. Look how much medical research we’re doing in that field because of how rapidly psychic talents are developing in humans.”
“Do you realize what you’re saying? If that relic really can be used to treat human parapsych trauma, it would be a genuine medical miracle.”
“The problem is,” she said quietly, “I’ve got a nasty feeling that this is one of those good news–bad news situations.”
“What do you mean?”
“The relic is pretty impressive, Trig. I think it holds out great hope for treating a whole range of psi trauma.”
“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here.”
“But I got a strong hunch that in the wrong hands it could be used as a form of mind control.”
“Huh. Okay, that doesn’t sound so good.”
“No, it’s not. Trig, Davis wants the relic to go back to Mercer Wyatt tonight.”
“He’s right. The sooner the relic is out of your hands and back in the Guild vault, the safer everyone will be. Wyatt can handle Landry.”
“I understand, but I’ve had some time to think about this, and I’ve come to a conclusion that Davis and Mercer Wyatt probably won’t like.”
Trig groaned. “Please don’t tell me that you tossed that damned relic out into the desert on the theory that the device is too dangerous for mere humans to use.”
“No. It is dangerous, but so is a lot of medical technology. I’m going on the theory that the possible benefit is too great to ignore. Besides, what if another one turns up someday? This one needs to be studied.”
“Absolutely,” Trig said quickly. “All the more reason to keep the device under lock and key in a secure place like the Guild vault.”
She almost smiled. “I agree. And that’s why I’ve decided to turn it over to a reputable medical research lab.”
“Damn. You don’t trust the Guild to handle the device, do you?”
“In a word, no.”
There was another long pause.
“Does Davis know about this?”
“Not yet,” she said. “He’s still asleep. I intend to talk to him about my plan as soon as he recovers from the afterburn.”
“You won’t do anything without discussing it with him first, will you?” Trig sounded very worried.
“No.”
“All right. I’ll be waiting at your apartment when you get here. You’ll need some security tonight, anyway. I doubt very much that Landry would try anything in Cadence. This is Mercer Wyatt’s town, after all. But whoever searched your apartment the other night and then raised those twin ghosts is still running around.”
“Any luck with that angle?”
“I’ve got one good possibility,” Trig said. “I was waiting for Davis to get back before chasing it down, though. Figured he’d want to handle it himself. Listen, about this plan of yours to turn the relic over to a research lab.”
“Yes?”
“Think the dust bunny will go along with it?”
She looked at Araminta, who was munching on a cracker topped with pink cream cheese. “I have no idea.”
Chapter 27
Her screams woke him. He jerked upright in bed, searching for the source of the danger. He saw Janet in a patch of moonlight. She was on her feet, backing away from the bed with a horrified expression. She held out both hands as though warding off a demon.
“What is it?” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“You.” She choked on another scream. “I know you told me what it would be like, but I never realized… never expected to wake up in the middle of the night and…I’m sorry, I just can’t deal with it.”
She whirled and ran from the bedroom, her nightgown flapping wildly at her heels.
He looked down and saw that at some point he had kicked off the covers during the night. The upper half of his leg from knee to hip was missing.
HE OPENED HIS EYES AND LET THE REMNANTS OF THE dream fade away. Through the sliding glass door he could see the faint green glow of the Dead City night giving way to a cloudy dawn. For a few seconds he was disoriented. Wrong bed, wrong apartment, wrong view.
Then the memories slammed through him. He’d pulled silver light, enough to go invisible for several minutes. His heart accelerated abruptly. The fight-or-flight response kicked in, dumping adrenaline and a bunch of other biochemicals into his bloodstream. The last time this had happened he’d ended up in a waking coma at the Glenfield Institute.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and surged to his feet, intent only on escape.
Max rumbled softly somewhere nearby. Davis stopped cold at the familiar sound and turned around. He saw Max at the foot of the bed, nestled into the plump quilt. Only his blue eyes were open and he was still fully fluffed: concerned, but not in battle mode.
It finally dawned on him that the room did not smell like the psych ward. Instead of the sterile, antiseptic odor he associated with that antechamber of hell, there was another scent.
He picked up the pillow and breathed deeply. Everything inside him stirred into full awareness. He knew the fragrance. He would remember it for the rest of his life. His heart rate slowed. He wasn’t trapped in the Glenfield Institute; he was in Celinda’s bedroom.
He recalled how she had wrapped herself around him, her body heat driving out the icy, postburn fever.
“How you doin’, boss?” Trig asked from the doorway. He had a cup of coffee in one big hand.
Davis realized that the only thing he had on was his briefs. “I’m okay. A little foggy about what happened, though.”
“You pulled your invisible man trick when you took on Landry’s men. As near as Celinda can figure, you disappeared for about five minutes. Plus you de-rezzed a lot of ghosts.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed. “What day is it? How long was I out?”
“You weren’t out. Not the way you were last time. The fight with those goons Landry sent after you happened last night. You’ve been asleep for a few hours, that’s all. Normal postburn crash this time.”
“That’s not possible.”
Trig sipped his coffee and lowered the mug. “You’re sitting there, aren’t you? You look fine to me. Course, you need a shave and a shower, but aside from that—”
“What happened?”
“Celinda took care of your little coma issue last night.”
Davis went very still, remembering the feel of her heat and the sense of calm that had come over him.
“How?” he asked.
