Fired Up

weary gesture. “But I think I scared him to death. Literally. I think that is my new talent.”
    She went back behind her desk and more or less collapsed into her chair. She said nothing for a moment, trying to wrap her brain around what he had just told her. He watched her intently.
    “You think I’m crazy,” he said at last.
    “No.” She drummed her fingers on the desk blotter. “I know what crazy looks like because it shows up very clearly in dream psi. Whatever else you are, Mr. Winters, you are not crazy.”
    Some of the hard tension in him eased a little. “I guess that’s a start.”
    “I think,” she said slowly, “that you had better tell me a little more about what you call the family curse.”
    “The short version is that Nicholas Winters’s DNA evidently got fried the first time he used what he called his Burning Lamp. The genetic change was locked into the male bloodline of my family. The mutation doesn’t show up very often. According to family legend and Arcane rumors, it has only appeared one other time. That was in the late eighteen hundreds.”
    “What, exactly, happens to those who get this so-called curse?”
    “I don’t know.” He gave her a chilling smile. “No one does because there’s just not enough hard information to go on. But the theory is that I’ll become a psycho and start trying to murder anyone with the last name of Jones along with anyone else who gets in my way.”
    She exhaled slowly. “I see. Is that what happened to your ancestor? The one who lived in the eighteen hundreds?”
    “No. Evidently Griffin Winters managed to find the Burning Lamp and a woman who could work it. Family legend holds that Adelaide Pyne was able to reverse the process. She kept Griffin Winters from becoming a triple-talent. The Arcane records agree with that version of history.”
    “Hmm.”
    “I have developed a second talent. As far as J&J is concerned, I’ve already become a Cerberus.”
    “Cerberus had three heads, not two,” she said absently.
    “Unfortunately, the distinction isn’t going to matter much to J&J. The agency will hunt me down and take me out.”
    “You’re sure of that?”
    He smiled a very cold smile. “If I were Fallon Jones, it’s what I’d do.”
    He was telling the truth, she realized. In Fallon Jones’s shoes, he would do what he thought had to be done.
    She exhaled deeply while she pondered that.
    “All right, assuming that you actually are turning into a multi-talent—and for the record, I am not convinced that is what is happening—do you really think the lamp can help you?”
    “It’s a long shot but it’s all I’ve got,” he said simply. “Will you take my case?”
    She had made her decision the moment he walked into her office. But there was no need to tell him that.
    “Yes,” she said.
    “Thank you.” He sounded like he meant it.
    She cleared her throat. “There are a couple of things we need to go over. Have you considered the possibility that the Winters lamp has been destroyed?”
    The cold fire leaped in his eyes and just as quickly faded. “It would take a hell of a lot to do that. According to the legend, Old Nick forged the metal and the crystals of what he called his Burning Lamp using his own alchemical secrets. Even Sylvester Jones admitted that when it came to furnace work, Nicholas Winters had no equal.”
    “Few things are indestructible. It could have wound up in an auto-wrecking yard.”
    “I’m not sure that even a car compactor could destroy an object created by Old Nick. In any event, the legend says that the lamp reeks of energy. You know how it is with paranormal artifacts. They tend to survive.”
    “That’s true,” she admitted. “People, even folks with no real talent, are usually fascinated by them. Para- energy is always intriguing to the senses, whether you’re consciously aware of it or not.” She reached for a pad of paper.
    “What else?” he asked.
    “Hmm?” She did not look up from the notes she was making.
    “You said there were a couple of things you wanted to talk about.”
    “Oh, right.” She glanced again at the glowing palm print on her desk. “What kind of medication are you taking?”
    He did not respond immediately. She put the pen down and waited.
    “What makes you think I’m taking medication?” he asked finally.
    “I can see the effects in your dream psi. Whatever it is, it’s heavy-duty stuff, and it’s disturbing the energy at that end of the spectrum.”