Fired Up

do a job.”
    “You’re not paying me enough to take the risk of accidentally killing you,” she shot back. “Trust me, it would not be good for future business.”
    He contemplated her with a brooding air. For a moment she thought he was going to refuse. Then he nodded once.
    “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “I’ll take the meds. Knock myself out for a few hours.”
    “No meds,” she said sternly. “Not when we’re going to be dealing with a lot of powerful dream energy. It’s too dangerous. The effects are going to be unpredictable enough as it is. We don’t need the complications that sleeping medication might produce.”
    Wearily he massaged the back of his neck. “When I use the meds I don’t sleepwalk.”
    “The pills may be knocking you out, but you aren’t getting the real rest that your senses need. You require sleep, Jack, quality sleep. Trust me on this.”
    “I’m not taking any chances. When I sleepwalk I lose control.”
    “I’ll be here.”
    His mouth twisted in a cold smile that she knew was meant to be intimidating. “You’re the main reason that I’m not going to take the risk. A few nights ago I killed a man while I was in a fugue state, remember?”
    “Only because you were trying to protect someone else. Don’t worry—I’ll keep an eye on you. If you show signs of weirdness or sleepwalking I’ll wake you up.”
    “Do you really think you could pull me out of one of those episodes?”
    “How hard could it be?” she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
    He looked at her, not speaking.
    She sighed. “It’s just dream energy. I can handle it.”
    “But if you can’t? I have no way of knowing what I’ll do when I’m in that condition.”
    “Relax. You won’t hurt me.”
    “What makes you so damn sure?”
    “I’ll admit that the ability to read dreamlight doesn’t have a lot of practical applications, but it is very useful when it comes to figuring out whether or not someone is likely to be dangerous.” She waved a hand at the carpet behind him. “I can read your prints. You’re not a danger to me.”
    “Not in the waking state.”
    “And not in the sleeping state. Now, go down to the front desk, book the adjoining room and get some sleep.”
    He looked at the bed. “I can take a nap here.”
    “No,” she said, keeping her tone very even. “You cannot under any circumstances sleep in this room. I won’t be able to work if you do.”
    He frowned. “Why not? I won’t be pacing, and I won’t be looking over your shoulder—I’ll be asleep.”
    She had tried to explain the complications of her talent to a few men over the years, but none of them had accepted the explanation, not really. Most, like Fletcher, had simply concluded that she was either deluded or that she had major intimacy problems. But Jack was different, she thought. Not only was he a strong talent, but he also had problems of his own with dream energy. Maybe he would understand.
    “When people sleep, they dream, whether they are aware of it or not,” she said patiently. “I’m fine around most folks when they’re awake. Unless they’re mentally or emotionally unbalanced, their dream energy is suppressed. I only notice it if I open my senses and look at their prints. But when they’re asleep, they produce a lot of uncontrolled ultralight from the dream spectrum. If they are in close proximity, I have to concentrate hard to tune out the currents, and if I do that, I won’t be able to focus my attention on the lamp.”
    He gave her a considering look. “Must be kind of weird.”
    “Weird doesn’t begin to describe it.” A small shudder went through her. “Adult dream energy at full throttle is chaotic and weird and just way too intimate. I find it deeply disturbing.”
    “What about kids’ dream energy?”
    She shrugged. “I’m okay with that. The ability to dream seems to be something that develops over time. It usually matures along with everything else in the teenage years. The dreamlight of babies and children is generally so pale that I can usually ignore it.”
    “I’ll be damned,” Jack said. “You can’t sleep with a man.”
    “Not in the literal sense, no.”
    “That’s why you practice serial monogamy, as you call it. Why your relationships don’t last. Why you’ve never married.”
    “Why I used to practice serial monogamy. I’m celibate now, remember.” She managed her best client smile. “But back in the day I was every man’s secret