Fired Up

hunted. It’s human nature to run in situations like this.”
    “So we do the opposite.”
    “Right.”
    She heightened her senses a little more and studied his prints on the leather bag. Strong, healthy dream psi, the positive results of a good night’s rest, showed clearly. But she could still see faint traces of the medication he had been taking.
    “Why are we worried about Fallon Jones?” she asked. “I got the impression you believed him when he claimed he wasn’t gunning for you.”
    “I think he was telling the truth when he said that he hadn’t been tracking me. But now that he knows for sure that I’ve got the lamp and that Nightshade is on our trail, he won’t be able to resist trying to keep us under surveillance.”
    “For our own good, of course,” she said drily.
    “Probably had someone watching your uncle’s store even before we got there this afternoon. The question is whether the decoy car worked.”
    “I’m sure it worked,” she said, not without a touch of pride. “My family is very good at this kind of thing.”
    His mouth kicked up a little at the edges. “I noticed.”
    Edward Harper had arranged for an SUV with heavily tinted windows to pull away from Harper Fine Furnishings shortly before sunset that afternoon. Dex and Beth, bearing a remarkably close resemblance to Jack and herself, thanks to theatrical makeup and wigs, were inside. They had driven off quickly, headed west on I-15 toward L.A.
    She and Jack had departed sometime later in the back of one of the half dozen Harper Fine Furnishings delivery vans that came and went all day long from the secure warehouse at the rear of the store. In addition to their new credit cards, ID and phones, Jack had a sparkling clean laptop. The discreet departure had been accomplished with the customary Harper efficiency.
    She walked to the table and stopped, looking down at the lamp. “You sure you’re ready to do this?”
    He watched her from the opposite side of the table. “It’s not like I have a choice. What about you?”
    She knew she had to sound confident for his sake.
    “Ready,” she said. “First step here is to light the lamp. I think either one of us can do that, but once it’s burning, you’re the only one who can push up the power level.”
    “How do I do that?”
    “I’m afraid it’s going to be an intuitive thing. The process should come naturally to you because the lamp is already tuned to your wavelengths. We’ll take it slow and easy, though. Whatever we do here, we definitely do not want to lose control of the power in this gadget.”
    “It’s that dangerous?” he asked quietly.
    “Yes.” She paused. “But I can’t tell you how or in what way it’s dangerous. Power is power, though. You have to respect it.”
    She went around the suite, turning off the lights. The room was plunged into a darkness lit only by the cold light of neon and a desert moon. In the shadows she could see Jack silhouetted against the uncovered window.
    She gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the night and then made her way back toward him. In the dim light she managed to collide with a chair.
    “Ooph.” She was going to be bruised in the morning.
    “You okay?” Jack asked.
    “Yeah, sure. Fine.” So much for the air of confident professionalism, she thought. She rubbed her thigh and continued on to the table. “Okay, here we go.”
    She heightened her senses, probing gently for the latent currents in the lamp. Energy shifted ominously in the artifact. Slowly it began to glow, giving off a weak, pale light.
    “That’s as far as I can take it,” she said quietly. “Your turn.”
    Jack did not respond, but she felt the energy level rise in the room. Psi heat stirred her senses. The skin on her arms prickled. The hair on the nape of her neck lifted. Her pulse beat faster. Excitement and anticipation revved through her.
    The lamp got brighter. She went hotter and became uncomfortably aware of the residue of lust, some of it earthy and natural, some of it sick and disgusting, that stained the suite. Traces of gambling fever were everywhere in the room. The unwholesome light of other kinds of addictions glittered malevolently as well. Not even the strongest cleaning chemicals could touch dream energy. The lust on the bedding in the other room reeked.
    She tuned out the extraneous energy and focused on the lamp. Fingerprints of dark, hot ultralight fluoresced on the strange metal, seething and pulsing in the shadows.