Fired Up

insanity and then death.”
    Her fork froze in midair. “He specifically wrote about a key and a lock? Do you know what he was talking about?”
    “No. The old alchemists were big on riddles and hidden meanings.”
    She thought about the feeling she’d had last night, the sensation that she had turned an invisible key in a paranormal lock. A shiver whispered through her.
    “Nicholas was very explicit about the price exacted by the first two talents,” she said carefully. “I wonder if he was being more literal than you think.”
    Jack watched her very steadily. “He also wrote that only the woman able to work the lamp could halt or reverse the transformation into a Cerberus.”
    Her pulse picked up, and her chest tightened. “Oh, geez. Talk about pressure. Listen, Jack, you look pretty normal to me this morning. And you said you felt good.”
    He smiled slightly, eyes heating. “Thanks to you.”
    “Yes, well—”
    The burbling of her phone interrupted her. Startled, she dove into her purse and came up with the device.
    “Uncle Edward? Is something wrong?”
    “I got a call from your assistant, Rose, a few minutes ago. She said Drake Stone contacted her this morning. He’s trying to get in touch with you. Said it was very important that he talk to you. Thought I’d better pass the message along.”
    A sliver of alarm sliced through her senses. “I’ll call him right away. Thanks, Uncle Edward.” She crossed her fingers under the table. “Oh, and the lamp worked.”
    “Good to know.”
    “Yes, it is. We don’t need it anymore, so J&J is sending someone to collect it and take it to an Arcane vault.”
    “Best place for it,” Edward said. “Arcane knows how to take care of that sort of thing.”
    “Thanks, again, for everything yesterday.”
    “No problem. Your client will receive my bill when this is all over.”
    She ended the call and looked at Jack. “I have to call Drake Stone. He got in touch with Rose this morning. Something about needing to talk to me immediately.”
    Jack lowered his fork. “What’s going on?”
    “I don’t know yet.”
    She punched in the number Edward had given her. A woman answered on the second ring.
    “Stone residence,” a woman said.
    The voice was chirpy. Different housekeeper, Chloe noticed.
    “This is Chloe Harper,” she said. “I’m returning a call to Mr. Stone.”
    “Yes, Miss Harper. Please hold.”
    Stone took the call immediately.
    “Chloe, thanks for getting back to me.” Drake sounded strained and tense.
    “Is something wrong, Mr. Stone?”
    “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure. I had a rather strange experience last night. Someone came to see me here at the house. I think it was about the lamp.”
    A sense of urgency tightened her breathing. She was aware of Jack watching her with a steady look.
    “You think it was about the lamp?” she said carefully.
    “That’s the weird part,” Drake said. “I can’t quite remember the conversation. I admit that this was after the show and that I’d had two or three drinks to unwind before going to bed. That could explain my memory problems. But what really bothers me is that this morning I checked with the guard at the front gate.”
    “And?” Chloe asked.
    “According to the log and the guy who was on duty last night, I had no visitors.”

35
    THE UNIFORMED GUARD WAVED THEM THROUGH THE GATE. Jack drove along the tree-lined drive and stopped the car in front of Stone’s Mediterranean villa. Chloe grabbed her satchel, popped open the door and slid out of the front seat.
    The late morning sun was bright, but the temperature was still in the low sixties. The chill she felt, however, had nothing to do with the brisk air. Her senses were fluttering the way they did whenever she walked past the entrances of dark alleys or entered a parking garage late at night. Most people try to ignore their intuition. But when you have been raised by people who accept the psychic side of their natures as natural, you learn to pay attention.
    She walked with Jack along the stone path to the imposing, colonnaded entrance of the big house. As usual, Jack carried the leather duffel containing the lamp and his computer case. He pressed the doorbell.
    “I still can’t believe I’m actually working for J&J,” Chloe said mournfully. “How the Harper family standards have fallen.”
    “Look at it this way,” Jack said. “Jones pays well.”
    “Do you really think that Fallon’s theory is correct?”