Fired Up

Winters is proof that the lamp can be used to stabilize the channels between the dreamstate and the waking state. It represents a huge advance over the formula. I must admit that I was very intrigued. The next step, of course, was to acquire the lamp and a strong dreamlight reader. Miss Knight was just starting to orchestrate such a search when, to our surprise, Winters himself contacted a certain private investigator who just happened to be a high-level dreamlight reader.”
    “That would be me.”
    “Indeed, Miss Harper.”
    “When you realized that Jack was searching for the lamp, the two of you waited to see if we would find it.”
    “Well, Miss Knight had not had any luck on her own, and there is that old legend, you know, the one that holds that only a strong dreamlight reader can find the lamp.”
    “I’m surprised to hear that you believe in myths and legends, Hulsey. Not exactly a scientific approach, is it?”
    “Normally I would not give such a tale any credence, but in this case I made an exception. We are talking about a paranormal artifact, after all, one infused with a massive amount of dreamlight. It is entirely logical that a person with your unusual kind of talent would have an affinity for the lamp and, therefore, a better shot at locating it. Be that as it may, the plan worked.”
    “Except that your people failed in their attempt to steal the lamp. It’s now in Arcane hands.”
    Hulsey chuckled. “Not any longer.”
    She gripped the edge of the gurney. “What do you mean?”
    “The Burning Lamp was recovered from the Arcane vault yesterday and is now in our possession.”
    She was trying to wrap her brain around that disheartening news when another low moan sounded through the thin wall.
    “Can’t you do anything for him?” she pleaded.
    “No, Miss Harper, I can’t.” Hulsey gave her a beatific smile. “Only you can save him.”

49
    “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN, IT’S GONE?” PHONE CRUSHED in one fist, Jack used his other hand to rip open his office door. “It was in an Arcane vault. It was supposed to be safe there.”
    “I told you, Zack and I have suspected for some months now that Arcane has been infiltrated on several levels.” Fallon’s voice was a growl. Tension and weariness pulsed in each word. “It’s possible that one of the Nightshade people works in the L.A. museum and has access to the vault.”
    Jack went out into the hall, moving fast. “Great. You’re hiring Nightshade operatives off the street to work in the Society’s museums. Why not just take out an ad in the paper? Psychic sociopaths wanted. Excellent benefits.”
    “In the past the Society hasn’t had the time or personnel to conduct anything more than routine background checks on low-ranking employees. I keep telling you, J&J is not some secret government agency with unlimited funding. I’m one man trying to run the whole damn show.”
    Jack reached the elevator and leaned on the call button.
    “I don’t have time to listen to your excuses, Jones.”
    “What’s going on? You sound like you’re working out. Are you on a treadmill or something?”
    “No. I’m trying to get out of the building. It’s a high-rise. I’m waiting for the damned elevator.”
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Before I called you, I called Chloe’s office. She never returned from her three o’clock appointment with a client. She’s not answering her phone.”
    “Shit.”
    “Took the word right out of my mouth.”
    The elevator doors opened. He cut the connection, got inside and rode the cab down to the basement parking garage.
    He made record time to the address on Mercer Island. Hector was inside Chloe’s car, howling like a lost soul. When he saw Jack he ceased abruptly and waited, ears sharply pricked, every muscle taut, while Jack got the door open. Once free, he bounded out onto the pavement and charged up the walk to the entrance of the big house. He started barking wildly and clawed at the door, leaving deep grooves in the white paint.
    The door opened just as Jack went up the front step. An elegant-looking woman in her early seventies appeared. Hector surged past her and disappeared into the house.
    “What on earth?” The woman stared at Jack, mouth open, eyes widening with alarm.
    She started to close the door. Jack got a foot in the opening.
    “Mrs. Rollins?”
    “I’m Barbara Rollins. Who are you?”
    “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Jack Winters. I’m a friend