“Yes, it will be.” Sylvia’s expression tightened. “It is also an undertaking that Arcane would refuse to fund, given its ridiculous prohibition against weapons research. But my new associate has very deep pockets and is willing to finance a first-class lab for me.”
“Where did you get the music box?”
“Family heirloom,” Sylvia said. “Created by Millicent Bridewell herself.”
“Why couldn’t you just study that artifact to learn what you want to know?”
“It’s not that simple,” Sylvia said. Anger simmered in the words. “The music box was one of the more complicated examples of Bridewell’s work. I’ve studied it for years and never figured out how she infused the energy into the glass.”
“I’ll bet you don’t have any more luck with the other gadgets, either. How is your new business associate going to like it when she finds out you can’t deliver?”
Outrage flashed across Sylvia’s face. “All I need is time and a decent lab.”
“Alien technology,” Walker said. He rocked some more. “Too dangerous. Can’t let the g-government have it.”
Sylvia glanced at him, irritated. “Don’t worry, the Feds will never get their hands on those curiosities.”
For the first time Vogel spoke.
“Dogs,” he said. He looked toward the window.
Sylvia frowned. “I don’t hear anything.”
Walker concentrated hard on Vogel.
“You’re using a-alien drugs,” Walker announced. “Poison.”
“What the hell?” Vogel swung around, his face flushed a dark red with sudden fury. “Shut up.”
“Yes, you are.” Walker rocked fiercely. “You’re on a-alien drugs.”
“If you won’t close your mouth, I’ll do it for you,” Vogel snarled. He pulled a roll of duct tape out of his pocket.
“Oh, wow,” Isabella said. “Is this what they mean by ’roid rage? I’ve heard it’s a major problem with guys who use steroids. No self-control whatsoever.”
“Shut up, bitch.” Vogel’s voice rose. Face twisting, he changed course and went toward her.
“Vogel, stop right now,” Sylvia said sharply. “You take orders from me, remember.”
Vogel ignored her. He reached down to grab Isabella’s arms and started to yank her to her feet.
She got her focus and poured everything she had into an electrifying charge of energy.
“Get lost,” she said softly.
Vogel froze. He released her, his expression going slack. He turned toward the door and started walking at a steady, deliberate pace.
“Vogel.” Sylvia was alarmed now. “Come back here. Where are you going? What’s wrong with you?”
Vogel did not respond. He opened the door, crossed the porch and went down the steps.
“Come back here,” Sylvia shouted.
Vogel was in the yard. He disappeared from view, walking off into the driving rain. Somewhere in the distance dogs barked.
Sylvia spun back around to face Isabella. Fury contorted her features. “What did you do to him? You’re just a finder-talent.”
“I think he must have snapped,” Isabella said. “Sorry about that. Maybe he’s on drugs like Walker said.”
Sylvia stared at Walker. “How did you know?”
Walker rocked.
Something went ping in Isabella’s head. It sounded a lot like the ping on Fallon’s computer.
“Oh, crap,” she whispered. “You’re right, Walker.”
“Tell me how you know about the drugs,” Sylvia hissed.
“Leave him alone,” Isabella said.
Sylvia moved toward her. “What did you do to Vogel to turn him into a zombie?”
The storm was at nightmare pitch now. Lightning lit up the sky. It silhouetted the dark figure of Fallon. He came through the doorway on a floodtide of energy.
“Make one more move and I’ll kill her,” Sylvia said. “I swear I will. Stay back.”
Isabella sensed the rising heat in the atmosphere. She knew what Fallon was about to do. Sylvia must have sensed the threat as well.
“Stop it,” she shouted. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I swear I’ll kill her before you can do anything to me. It only takes a fraction of a second to pull the trigger. She’ll be dead before I will.”
Isabella looked at Fallon. “It’s okay. Trust me on this.”
He stopped.
“That’s right,” Sylvia said. She seemed to pull herself together. “That’s smart, Jones. Very smart. Isabella and I are going to leave now. She stays alive as long as no one follows us. Understood?”
“Understood,” Fallon said. But in his eyes there was the promise of death.
“Good.” Sylvia straightened slowly. “There’s a knife on the floor, Jones. Use it to cut her ankles free.”
The dogs were closer now. To Isabella’s ears they sounded like a pack of hellhounds.
Fallon walked across the room, picked up the pocket knife and slashed the duct tape that bound Isabella’s legs.
“You’re sure you want to do it this way?” he said softly.
“I’m sure,” she said.
“Shut up, both of you,” Sylvia said. “On your feet, Isabella.”
Isabella staggered awkwardly to her feet, aware of another kind of energy heightening the atmosphere. She knew then that Sylvia was going to try to kill Fallon.
“Can’t stand,” Isabella gasped. “My legs are numb.”
Sylvia put a hand on her back and shoved her violently toward the door.
The physical contact gave Isabella the focus she needed. She pulsed energy into Sylvia’s aura, more energy than she had ever used in the past. She was suddenly on fire with power. It roared through her, filling the room.
“Run,” she whispered. “Straight ahead.”
Sylvia went absolutely still for an instant. The gun fell from her hand. Once again invisible lightning crackled in the atmosphere. Fallon had a fix.
“No,” Isabella repeated.
Sylvia launched herself through the door and fled into the pounding rain.
The dogs were closer now, barking furiously.
Somewhere out in the storm a thin, high scream rose above the roaring wind and waves. It ended abruptly a few seconds later.
The dogs stopped barking.
Fallon pulled Isabella into his arms and held her as if he would never let her go.
A moment later Poppy and Clyde and the rest of the dogs rushed through the door of the cabin. They were delirious at the sight of Isabella. Henry and Vera and several other familiar faces raced up onto the porch and came through the door.
“Everybody okay here?” Henry asked.
Isabella raised her head from Fallon’s shoulder and looked at her friends and neighbors.
“Yes,” she said. “Everything is okay now.”
