He waved her back. “Dr. O’Brien, relax. Please.”
She let herself ease into the cushions, but inwardly she remained upright.
“I’ll be just outside,” Dr. Riggs said, meeting Adam’s gaze in a silent signal. Their communication set Talia’s heart beating faster.
Adam took a seat on the sofa and leaned back, arm propped on a pillow. The pose seemed relaxed, but carefully restrained energy hummed just below the surface. His gaze was cool, level, and appraising, belying the ease of his posture. Something about the man told Talia that he was rarely one to be still.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
That’s not important. “Where am I?”
“You’re at The Segue Institute. I founded it a little over six years ago to research the wraith phenomenon.”
Wraith. “Is that what was in the alley? A wraith?” The word felt strange in her mouth, but solid. Grounding. It was good to finally attach a name to the soul-suckers that had been following her for—she didn’t know how long. Another thing to thank Adam for.
“Yes. That was a wraith. He was once a normal person, but something—and we don’t know what—happened to augment his physical strength, senses, and regenerative capacity to the point of immortality.”
“And what they do…?” An image of Grady’s sick kiss, Melanie flailing, came unbidden to Talia’s mind.
Adam’s eyes darkened. “They feed on human life energy.”
Talia shook her head, remembering the echo of Melanie’s self as it was ripped from its moorings. “They feed on more than that.” She was certain they fed on something more distinct and individual than “human energy.”
Adam frowned, seeming to draw inside himself. “Perhaps. As far as we can tell, feeding does not sustain them physically. We think the act grounds them. Gives them a grip on humanity.”
Talia swallowed, hard. “And me?”
He smiled, although the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “And you wrote a very interesting dissertation. It was posted online by your anthropology department on April twenty-sixth, two days after you defended your doctorate.”
That wasn’t what she meant by her question—she’d meant, What do you plan to do with me?—but she let him continue. “So?”
“You had some provocative…suppositions about the boundary between life and death. I was ready to offer you a position here based on your work, but you’d disappeared.”
“I don’t understand. What does my diss have to do with wraiths?”
“The Segue Institute exists for the express purpose of discovering how to kill a wraith. We are trying to learn some other things along the way as well, but only as they support our first goal. We have on-staff physicians, academics, para-psychologists…and now I am hoping to get an expert on near-death experiences.”
Me. “But why all the fuss? There are others more knowledgeable on the subject. You didn’t have to track me down to an alley…” Or put your body in front of mine during an attack.
Adam held up a hand to stop her. “I’ve done my research and out of the handful of people dedicated to near-death, only you retain an objective point of view. Most of the others are dedicated to confirming life after death. Segue does not have any spiritual or religious agenda. Instead, I want to learn about the laws or forces that dictate what happens at the brink of death, and any ideas you might have on the exceptions to the rules.”
Still… There had to be a more specific reason he had selected her. Others were capable of unbiased research.
“Why me?”
Adam shifted into a more intent posture, leaning toward her, his shirt stretching with the breadth of his shoulders, elbows on knees. His fingers laced together, swollen and bruised across one set of knuckles.
His gaze locked on hers, watching. Evaluating. “One of your sources mentioned Shadowman, an individual I would very much like to learn more about.”
Panic flared, and she fought to keep her composure.
Shadowman. Her father. The dark and beautiful man she’d met once, right after the car accident when she was fifteen. The near-death experience that inspired her work. Her father, the enigma of her life, had come to greet her on her passing. She’d seen the tilt of his eyes and known with shattering clarity that she was like him, whatever he was. And she didn’t care what that was, as long as she wasn’t alone with her strangeness anymore. Then he’d been ripped away when she was zapped back to life by paramedics.
Now, of course, she’d have questions for her father. He’d know why the wraiths wanted her. He’d be able to tell her why she could do strange things no one else could. And he could protect her from the devil that came out of her scream.
She’d voice none of that to Adam. She owed him thanks, not herself. All Adam’s talk about her dissertation and near-death research was just that, talk. If Adam wanted to study Shadowman, who was not in this world, his only alternative was to study her. She might be “researching” near-death here, but she’d still be a little white rat.
“I have all your materials ready, your books and data. Not knowing if we would ever find you, we went through it.”
You would have gone through it anyway. Pressure grew in her chest, her heartbeat quickening though she sat stone still.
“And although you have detailed records, releases, and transcripts from all of your other sources, there is nothing that references Shadowman.” His gaze fixed on her face. “Who is the source?”
Talia kept silent, staring right back at him and concentrating on moving air in and out of her lungs. If he knew so much already, she certainly wasn’t going to tell him more.
He dropped his head for a moment, then raised it again with strain tugging at his eyes. “Okay, let’s set that question aside for the moment. Give you a chance to get set up in your own lab and look over your research. There’s something else, too. I’d wait until you were fully on your feet to discuss this with you, but I am a big fan of putting all the cards on the table. Your lab tests came back with some interesting results, off the wall, but strangely consistent with similar tests taken—and disregarded—after the near-fatal car accident you were in ten years ago.”
Lab tests. Of course. Lab tests wouldn’t lie. Lab tests would reveal abnormalities. Hadn’t Aunt Maggie warned her about doctors years ago?
“And you’ve got a reflex, I think linked to fear, that affects the immediate environment, as a chameleon blends into the bark of a tree, but opposite.” He smiled, tilting his head. As if any of this warranted levity. “The flight from Arizona was especially exciting. I’m guessing your gift played a significant part in eluding the wraiths for so long.” He paused again, then speared her with his gaze. “What are you?”
If he wanted an answer, he wasn’t going to get one. He was peeling away her skin to expose her quivering core to the frigid room.
He sighed heavily; his intensity dropped. “Dr. O’Brien, I’ve been at this a while now. I’ve seen some unusual things. I mean you no harm. You saved me in that alley just as much as I saved you. I think we could make good partners, if you’d allow it.”
Good partners. Who was he kidding? He wanted to get inside her head. Study her.
“The offer of a position here at Segue is open. You’d get your own offices, whatever you require. There are three apart-ments upstairs you can choose from. West wing is haunted, so if you value your sleep, perhaps stick to the ones in the east wing, although they overlook the parking lot.”
Haunted?
“I’d like to say the staff here is friendly—Dr. Riggs is certainly a sweetheart—but the subject matter we research tends to draw an interesting crowd. Don’t take anything personally until you get to know them, and even then…” He raised his hands in a shrug, then pushed himself to standing.