“That’s how it feels. If I’m right, it narrows the scope of the search somewhat.”
“Lot of country between Washington and Arizona.”
“True. But over the years several of the hot spots have been mapped. And there are talents who are good at sensing nexus and vortex points. We might be able to construct a map of the most likely locations for a Nightshade lab.”
Isabella sipped some more whiskey and lowered the glass.
“Something happened today, when I put Tremont into the trance,” she said. “I don’t know how I did it, but I think that, just for a second, I tapped into the nexus energy in this area. I’m strong, but I’ve never felt anything like that before in my life. It was very strange.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time that a strong talent managed to pull some nexus energy. But it’s a very high-risk pastime. It’s like picking up a live electrical wire. The currents could short out your senses or even kill you. Promise me you won’t make a habit of it.”
A chill went through her at the memory. “You have my word on it,” she said. “What’s our next step?”
“If someone was running a research lab out of Cascadia Dawn, there has to be some trace of it left in the building. I’m going to send an agent inside to take a look around.”
“Who?”
“The same one who helped clean up things in Seattle a while back. He’s an illusion-talent. The guy’s as cold as ice, but he gets the job done. I’ve learned not to ask for details afterward, though.”
She glanced at him and smiled. In spite of the exhausting day, he looked energized. Sherlock Holmes with a bunch of new clues and leads to sort out.
“What do you think is going on inside Nightshade at this very moment?” she asked.
“My gut tells me that things have changed drastically at the top of the organization. The command structure fell apart after the founder died, and it has not yet had time to reconstitute itself. I’m not sure it can. I am finally beginning to perceive the outlines of the new version of the organization.”
“I take it that you’re not envisioning a kinder, gentler Nightshade?”
“No, I think that, for the time being, we’re going to find ourselves dealing with a handful of mini-Nightshades, each one operating independently.”
“Like a bunch of criminal gangs instead of one single mob?”
“Right.” Fallon took his feet off the coffee table. He leaned forward, forearms braced on his thighs and cradled his glass in both hands. His eyes gleamed with a familiar intensity. “Which means that there is a high probability of outright warfare between some of the gangs. We’re talking the usual corporate politics. There will be shifting alliances. There will be power grabs. Backstabbings. Betrayals.”
“You look like a kid who just got a big stack of birthday presents.”
His eyes heated with a little psi. She could almost hear the spark and snap of energy in the atmosphere.
“The infighting will work in our favor,” he said. “It will give us lots of cracks and fissures to exploit.”
“What about the formula? From what you’ve told me, whoever controls it, controls Nightshade.”
“The formula was being produced in a number of different locations before Craigmore was killed. From what we can tell, each lab functioned independently, conducting its own research on the original version of the drug.”
“All in an effort to deal with the side effects?”
“Yes. We took down five of the labs, but there are a few more out there that we haven’t found. We have to assume that the research is continuing and that new variations on the drug are in the pipeline. Some versions are no doubt more effective than others. Each drug producer will fight to keep its formula secret while trying to steal other, more effective versions.”
“So, in addition to the infighting, betrayals and backstabbings, we’ll be seeing some corporate espionage among the remaining circles.”
“We can work with that,” Fallon said. “Where there is espionage work to be had, there are any number of job openings available for double agents, traitors, thieves and spies.”
“And killers?”
“Yes,” Fallon said. He looked satisfied. “I think the illusion-talent in Seattle will fit right in.”
37
He woke up in Isabella’s double bed, aware that it was nowhere near dawn. He checked the glowing dial of his watch. Two in the morning. Isabella was neatly tucked into the curve of his body. He was suddenly, fully aroused.
He eased one hand under the hem of her nightgown and moved his palm upward over her warm thigh. Levering himself up on his elbow, he kissed her shoulder.
“Are you awake?” he asked.
“No.”
He slid his fingers between her legs. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay,” he said. “I just wondered.”
He pressed himself against her soft rear, nibbled on her earlobe and started to tease her lightly with his fingers.
She sighed and turned onto her back. He felt energy heighten in the shadows. When he jacked up his senses, he saw the gentle heat in her eyes. She put her arms around his neck.
“I’m awake now,” she said.
“So am I.”
“I noticed.”
He moved over her, capturing her beneath him, and kissed her. With a soft, languid whisper, she opened for him, inviting him into her warmth. He made love to her, slowly, deliberately, until she was hot and shivery in his arms, until he sensed the escalating tension deep inside her. Only then did he thrust into her.
“Fallon.”
She came almost immediately and so did he.
When it was over, he withdrew reluctantly and fell back onto the pillow beside her. Reaching down between them he found her hand and clasped it. He waited until both of them were breathing normally again.
“Tomorrow we’ll drive up the coast to Eclipse Bay and find your grandmother,” he said.
“You’re sure she’s there?”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s all right to contact her now. You can call her in the morning. She’s no longer in any danger.”
“Thanks to J&J.”
He looked up at the ceiling, intensely aware of her hand in his. “You’re safe now, too.”
“Yes.”
“You can go anywhere,” he said. “You don’t have to hide out in Scargill Cove.”
“I’m not hiding, not anymore. I’ve spent my entire life on the outside looking through the windows of people who actually have lives. Now I’ve got one of my own and I’m going to live it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Scargill Cove feels like home,” she said. “Interesting job. Nice neighbors. I think I was cut out for small-town living.”
“You’re sure you like the job?”
“I was born for it,” she said.
“That’s good because I need you to help me do this work.”
“I agree.”
“Marry me, Isabella.”
