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She forced herself to go on. "Ash…suggested the possibility of another psychic. So did Gordon. Someone able to influence my mind. My memories." And maybe sap my energy?

"It is possible. Your deteriorating condition argues there's something more at work than the single Taser blast. And if there is a combination of black-occult practices and genuine psychic ability manipulating the situation down there, clearly with some success, you can't handle it alone."

"Bishop-"

"Nobody handles that sort of thing alone. A psychic with the drive to create dark energy and the ability to tap into it? With the ability to use it? We know evil exists, Riley, that it's a real, tangible force."

"Yeah, but-"

"A force you're vulnerable to, especially now. Your natural defenses have been weakened, all but destroyed; how could you protect yourself from an attack on that level?"

Riley didn't have an answer.

Bishop didn't wait for a response. "If nothing else, black-occult practices would provide the perfect opportunity to channel negative energy. Whether in an attack meant to disable or destroy, or to achieve some other specific purpose. You're the expert on the occult; you know better than most that such rituals are incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands. Whether intentional or not, controlled or not, they create an enormous amount of negative energy-which could well be one of the things affecting you now."

She hadn't thought of that; it had never happened to her before. Then again, she could count the genuine black-occult rituals she had been witness to on the fingers of one hand. With fingers left over.

"Damn."

"Assume the worst, Riley. Assume you have a very powerful enemy out there. The Taser attack may only have been the beginning."

"I don't know who I could have threatened in such a short time, at least not to that extent."

"Which is the answer you need to look for. Whatever's happened to your abilities, your memories, the one thing you know for certain is that you were attacked."

It was, perhaps oddly, something Riley needed to hear, to be reminded of, and by someone who could view the situation with cool logic.

She felt a bit steadier, a bit more centered. She could do this. She was a pro, after all, experienced in investigation. Trained in self-defense and more than able to take care of herself. Knowledgeable about the occult.

She could do this.

She was almost positive she could.

"So you'll let me stay on the case?"

"There are conditions, Riley."

"Okay, but-"

"Listen to me. You chose Ash Prescott as your lifeline, and we both have to trust that you knew what you were doing. Keep him close. Follow what leads you can, look for what connections you can-and report back tomorrow. By the end of the day on Friday. Just as we originally agreed. If there's been no progress in the investigation, or you black out again, even for ten minutes, then you'll be recalled to Quantico. Period."

This time, Riley knew better than to argue. "Understood." She was still fighting to hold on to her concentration and hoped he wasn't picking up on it. "Bishop, one last thing. The serial killer in Charleston. You were going to look at the files?"

"Yes, I have. You don't have to worry about John Henry Price, Riley."

She leaned against the counter, too relieved to even attempt to hide it. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Bad enough it's a copycat, but-"

"Investigate your case, Riley. Report in tomorrow, sooner if anything changes. And be careful."

"I will." She cradled the receiver and continued to lean against the counter for a moment, then pushed herself away and went to grab another PowerBar before heading back out to the deck to talk to Ash, trying to convince herself that she couldn't actually feel the energy draining out of her as though someone had pulled the plug.

Bishop closed his cell phone and stared down at the folder open on the table before him.

"You lied to her," Tony noted, his tone neutral.

"I withheld part of the truth."

"A lie by omission is still a lie, boss."

"That," Bishop said, "depends on whether the end justifies the means. In this case, it does."

"And is the end going to be a happy one?"

Without directly replying to that, Bishop said, "Riley needs to feel certain of her trust in her lifeline."

"And one truth too many cuts that line?"

"In this situation, probably. With her abilities, instincts, and memories unreliable, the smallest doubt could cause her to pull away from him. Isolate herself even more. Put her in greater danger."

"This wouldn't exactly be a small doubt."

"No. Not from her point of view."

"It's a little shaky from mine," Tony admitted. "I love a good coincidence, but if working with you has taught me anything it's that we're usually not that lucky. A connection between two seemingly unrelated things-or people-usually means something nasty. For somebody. And for there to be any connection at all between John Henry Price and Ash Prescott at this stage is more than a little creepy. To say the least."

"Price is dead," Bishop said, and reached out to close the file in front of him.

"Mmmm. Except that, in our business, dead doesn't necessarily mean gone. And it sure as hell doesn't mean harmless. Somebody is, after all, killing those people in Charleston."

Bishop got to his feet. "We aren't in Charleston, we're in Boston. Where people are also being killed."

"You'd think there was something in the water," Tony offered.

"You'd think. I'll be in the interview room, going another round with that so-called witness."

"Pity you haven't been able to read him."

"That won't stop me from trying again."

Tony waited until he reached the door of the conference room before saying, "Boss? You don't like hanging one of us out on our own, do you?"

"Is that what you think I've done to Riley?"

"It's what you think you've done. What you feel you've done."

"Tony," Bishop said, "sometimes working with an empath-"

"-is a real pain in the ass. Yeah, I know. But I'm not really an empath. The emotions have to be pretty strong for me to pick up on them."

"You're not helping."

Tony grinned faintly. "Sure I am. It's my job to point out that Riley's a big girl-so to speak. She can take care of herself. I was there that day in the gym, remember? She took on you and Miranda. At the same time. And damn near beat you both. I'd call that tough enough."

"Physically, no argument."

"But this isn't about physical toughness, is it? It's about knowledge. Whoever put her down with that Taser knew they couldn't do it any other way."

"It's a dangerous enemy who knows you that well."

"An enemy you should keep close?"

Bishop didn't answer.

"You didn't warn her."

"I warned her."

"Not specifically."

"She knows she has an enemy there. Nothing I could say would make her more guarded or wary, just…"

"Paranoid?"

"No. Dangerously uncertain of the one person who can help her survive the next few days."

"Let's hope she figures out who that is," Tony said. "Because he looks suspicious as hell even from where I'm standing, boss. All of them do. Who does she really trust when the crucial moment arrives? A new lover with a bloody connection to the serial killer who almost killed her? An old army buddy who's been less than honest with her? Or the small-town sheriff with his own agenda? Who does she pick to hang her survival on? How does she make that choice?"

"She listens to her instincts."

"And?"

"And pays attention to what they've been telling her all along."

Riley had finished one PowerBar and was eating another when she rejoined Ash on the deck and reclaimed her sun-warmed chair.

"What did Bishop say?" he asked.

Condensing the conversation, Riley replied, "He thinks it's unlikely-but possible-that another psychic is having an effect on me. Far more likely it's the Taser attack. He mentioned a case where a jolt of electricity changed a psychic's abilities. If that is what's happening to me, there's no way to really know what was damaged or changed in my brain until we see the effects of it."