“We can call the cops,” Sam said. “But I doubt if it will do any good. To them, it will be just another low-priority burglary. Not even that, because I doubt if anything is actually missing.”
“Because what he wanted wasn’t here for him to find. You’re right. The cops will put this down as vandalism. They’ll ask me if I know anyone who has a reason to be mad at me. How am I going to explain that some crazy guy with a paranormal ability to commit murder is after a forty-year-old lab notebook that’s encrypted in a psychic code? They’ll think I’m crazy. Then they’ll find out about my time at the Summerlight Academy, and they’ll know for sure that I’m a nut.”
Sam walked to the sliding glass door and examined it. “Still locked from the inside. That means he got in through the front door. That settles it, this building definitely needs a major security upgrade.”
“I can’t stand it,” Abby said. There was a strange tremor in her voice.
Sam turned quickly and went back to her. “Can’t stand what?”
“I can’t stand the fact that he was here, inside my home,” Abby said. “I’ll never be able to sleep here again. I’m going to list the condo with a real-estate agent tomorrow.” She looked around. “No, wait, I’ll have to get a professional cleaning firm in here first. I’ll tell them to gather up everything and haul it to a charity.”
“Hey, hey, hey, take it easy.” He drew her into his arms and tried to think of something soothing to say. “It’ll be okay. The bastard ripped up a few cushions and made a mess, but there’s not a lot of serious damage.”
“He touched my stuff.” Abby was stiff with tension. She seemed unaware of his arms around her. “He was in my bedroom. My bathroom. My kitchen.”
“I know. He’ll pay for it, I promise you.”
“This isn’t about money, damn it.”
He winced. “Bad choice of words. I didn’t mean that he would pay financially. I meant I’ll get him for you.”
Abby took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “Okay, then. Thank you.” She stepped out of his arms and went toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Don’t you want to take some fresh clothes with you?”
“No.” She did not look back. “I won’t be able to wear anything that was here when he broke in. I won’t be able to use any of the dishes or the silverware or the sheets or my new towels ever again. He contaminated everything.”
She was already outside, punching the button for the elevator. Sam switched off the lamp. He stood for a moment, contemplating the violated space.
“Whoever you are, you just bought yourself a one-way ticket to nowhere,” he said to the shadows. “You should never have touched her stuff.”
35
ABBY WALKED OUT OF THE ELEVATOR INTO THE DIMLY LIT dungeon that was the underground parking garage. Her emotions were in turmoil. All she could think about was getting into the car and putting as much distance as possible between herself and her violated home. No, not my home, not anymore. Anger burned so hot within her that she did not register the ghostly prickle of awareness on the back of her neck until it was too late.
By the time she realized there was something wrong with the atmosphere in the garage, Sam’s powerful hand was clamping tightly around her upper arm. She turned her head to look at him.
“What—?” she began.
“Quiet,” Sam said, directly into her ear.
He drew her swiftly behind a massive SUV that was parked in the corner. The gray walls of the garage formed a barricade on two sides. The big vehicle provided additional cover.
Ominous energy whispered in the shadows. Abby was suddenly chilled to the bone. Parking garages were always unnerving at night, and in spite of the condo’s security measures, this one was no exception. Footsteps echoed eerily. There were too many dark spaces between the parked cars. She always walked through the gray concrete underworld as quickly as possible, keys in hand, all senses on high alert. But tonight she had been distracted.
The garage was far too quiet. There were no footsteps or voices, but her intuition warned her that she and Sam were not alone. Someone else waited in the shadows. Sam released her. She watched him take his pistol and a small chunk of silvery quartz that looked like a crystal mirror out from under his jacket. She wondered what the quartz was for but decided this was not the time to ask questions. There was the stillness of the hunter about Sam now. He was very focused, very intent. Very dangerous.
She did not know what to expect, a threat or a command from an armed gunman, perhaps. But there was only a strange, unnatural silence that seemed to deepen by the second. It was wrong. The pale glow of the fluorescent fixtures overhead was growing fainter. The garage was taking on a weird, dreamlike quality.
“Go hot,” Sam ordered softly. “All the way.”
She was already on edge, all of her senses, normal and paranormal, flaring in alarm, but she had made no effort to focus them. The problem with concentrating psychic energy for a prolonged period of time was that the exercise had a downside. The unpleasant jitters and, ultimately, exhaustion that followed a heavy burn were the least of her concerns. She could deal with those. What scared the daylights out of her in that moment was that the garage was starting to resemble the dreamscape of the Grady Hastings nightmare. It was bad enough to wake up and find herself standing beside her bed. What if pushing her talent too hard plunged her permanently into the dream?
Sensing her hesitation, Sam gave her an impatient glance.
“Do it,” he ordered.
The garage was undergoing a bizarre transformation. The space around them was assuming an increasingly unreal aspect, as if it was sliding into another dimension. The rows of cars grew longer, stretching away into infinity. The concrete columns morphed into Möbius strips.
“Is it just me or is this starting to look like a bad dream?” she whispered.
“Looks that way to me, too.”
She took comfort from that news. She wasn’t in this alone. She wanted to explain the reason for her reluctance to follow orders, but this did not seem to be the time or place for an extended conversation. She had hired him as a consultant for situations like this. There was no point employing high-grade talent if you didn’t follow up on the recommendations. Cautiously, she elevated her senses into the red zone.
Sure enough, the otherworldly distortion faded significantly as her para-senses took over. But the garage did not return to what passed for normal. When she was in the zone like this, she was able to perceive light from beyond the visible range of the spectrum. The scene was now illuminated in the radiance of ultralight.
In this eerily lit environment, human auras could be more easily perceived. The hot energy flaring in the shadows between two parked cars confirmed what she had already sensed. Someone waited in the darkness.
The senses-dazzling energy exploded out of nowhere. It was as if someone had lobbed a paranormal grenade directly in front of the SUV that protected them. Abby instinctively shut her eyes, but that did little to reduce the terrible glare. The explosion of searing ultralight affected her para-senses far more than it did her normal vision.
“Don’t waste your time and energy trying to fight it, Coppersmith.”The dark voice came out of the shadows. It was masculine but strangely distorted. “My little flash-bang is crystal-powered. It generates more energy than any human can. It will soon overwhelm your senses. My advice is to shut down your talent before you burn out.”