The dark emotion grew dominant, pooling inside her. Viscous, lethal, like a poison, transforming his other feelings. She knew what it was now.
“Let me go.” She yanked harder.
Adam wouldn’t release her. “We’ve barely begun…”
The sickness leeched through his being, turning his strength and emotions to suit its own ends.
“…but we’re still done,” Talia said. She twisted her wrist and broke his grasp. She took the darkness with her as she ran back through the trees, leaving Adam to his demon, Rage.
Adam escorted a silent Talia toward the conference room. He stole a glance at her. She’d changed back into Patty’s clothes and looked composed, the epitome of professionalism, but the way she clutched her notebook to her chest told him that she was angry. Even with her expression set, she was lovely, enticing, making him seriously reconsider his “do not fraternize with employees” policy. And Talia in her shadows? A goddess. Too bad she seemed determined to stay away from him. What happened?
He thought the investigation of her gift of shadow was a smashing success. He wanted to learn more at the earliest opportunity. The possibilities for research, for Jacob, had been sparking in his mind since she’d revealed what lay in darkness. What kind of creature was she to be able to do such a thing?
They stopped at the door to the Fulton Hotel’s second ballroom, which he opened and held wide for her. She went through sideways, wouldn’t even risk a casual touch. Okay, very angry.
Segue’s full complement of live-in research staff, all seventeen of them including Custo and Spencer, hushed as he and Talia approached the long mahogany conference table. All but Jim and Armand, who didn’t pause in their heated argument for a second.
“Gentleman…” Adam said to shut them up.
He pulled a chair out next to his own from the table, but Talia moved down its length and selected one near the center.
Maybe he’d been a little too blunt in his references to fear, too direct with his questions. But, damn it, she of all people had to understand how immediate the wraith threat was.
He’d talk to her again. Later.
Adam raised his hands to address the group. “I’d like everyone to extend a warm welcome to our newest staff member, Dr. Talia O’Brien. I am personally excited and honored to have her with us. Most of you have read her dissertation—if you haven’t, then please do so—and should have a good idea about what near-death experiences constitute.”
Armand sat immediately forward, eyes slanting first at Jim and then at Talia. “I’d like to state for the record that I’m not into any of this voodoo-hoodoo, life-after-death crap. I am a scientist. Cold spots, indeed. The wraith question is not a metaphysical one, but a biological one. You want to kill Jac—a wraith, you find a way to alter his cells’ regenerative capacity.”
Jim was shaking his head. “How can Jacob regenerate when he does not feed on matter?”
Armand pressed his lips together. “That’s what I hope my research will answer.”
Gillian raised her pen. “Perhaps if we focus on curing the original disease that caused the transformation…”
“I’ll tell you why he regenerates,” Jim interrupted. “It’s obvious. He feeds on the souls of others.”
Adam let the dialogue escalate. Talia’s gaze twitched back and forth between the men, her forehead tense with concentration.
“There’s no such thing as a soul,” Armand shot back. “You’re making things up to support your pseudoresearch.”
“But if we look at the origin of the disease,” Gillian persisted, “perhaps we can find the virus or compound responsible for…”
Jim’s large ears turned red. “Just how do you explain Lady Amunsdale then? You can’t deny the existence of ghosts if you’ve seen her.”
Gillian dropped her pen on the table in defeat. Whenever Jim brought the lady ghost into the argument, there was no moving him. Parapsychologists in general garnered little respect. What started as professional vindication from proving the existence of ghosts had turned into deep attachment. Jim was besotted. He’d been chasing that flash of white skirt since his first year here.
Armand shuttered his eyes. “Lady Amunsdale does not have a corporeal body for me to study. I allow that she exists, but she is out of my field of reference.”
Jim sneered. “Oh, don’t give me that shit—taking the easy out. What about Dr. O’Brien’s near-death? Six hundred and six reported cases of leaving the corporeal body and returning back to it.”
Talia sat up straighter, eyes widening.
Adam winked at her. She looked away without acknowledging him.
“What about other forms of out-of-body experiences? Ones where the body persisted, alive, while the spirit roamed?” Jim Remy bored his index finger into the table in front of him for emphasis.
Armand dramatically sighed. “I know what you’re getting at. You’re working your way around to the idea that because Jacob has lost his humanity, he doesn’t have a soul.”
Jim Remy stood. “My tests prove that Jacob is dead inside. No soul.”
Jim’s claim still stabbed Adam, even though the results were more than two years old. Jim’s tests revealed a signature electromagnetic reading in the presence of ghosts and humans. But not wraiths. Something was definitely missing from them, and if a ghost had it, the obvious conclusion was spirit, or soul. Jacob’s utter lack of humanity, his disregard for family connections or responsibility only proved it all the more.
Adam cleared his throat, and the room’s attention swung to him. “Dr. O’Brien. You are witnessing an old but fundamental Segue debate. It all boils down to a simple, but surprisingly difficult question: what constitutes death?
“Dr. Remy postulates that something forced Jacob’s soul to pass on, yet the body remains alive. On the other hand, you have Lady Amunsdale, a confirmed Segue ghost. She has no body and little awareness of the physical world, and yet maintains a distinct self. Which of them is alive? Which dead?”
The room fell silent. All looked at her expectantly.
Talia wet her lips. Her eyes roamed the table, but she addressed Armand. “Uh. Well. A person has a life…and a death. If you stick to the physical…”
Armand cocked his head impatiently.
Talia cleared her throat, placing her pen at a perfect right angle to her notebook. “Then wraiths are alive and ghosts are dead. While metaphysically, just the reverse is true.”
“Haven’t we just said all that?” Armand interrupted.
“Well, yes, but…” she stammered.
Adam sat forward in his chair. He knew her mind and loved the way she or ganized problems like thought puzzles, then took an obvious solution and turned it on its head. This was exactly the reason he wanted her on staff. If Armand would just cool it for a second, Adam knew she could think the debate through to a new conclusion.
“Then get on with it,” Armand said with exaggerated impatience.
Talia’s eyes narrowed. “I will if you’ll quit interrupting me.”
Adam controlled a smile. This was going to be good.
She took a deep breath. “If a person can lose their life, perhaps they can lose their death, as well.”
Armand rolled his eyes. “You’re as bad as Jim Remy. That’s just a perversion of a romantic metaphor.”
“And what is a metaphor but a new way of seeing something?” she answered back. “Isn’t that what we are doing here, looking at things from different perspectives?”
“Fine. Then why would a person lose their death?”
“People have been trying to lose death forever,” she argued. “Industries thrive on the desire to remain young and vital. Given the choice, most people would throw their death away and never look back.”