Gift of Fire

love in a place like this. Maggie seems like such a nice person. And as for Digby, I had pictured him as a respectable if somewhat eccentric scholar. I never dreamed...” She broke off. “Jonas, this throws a whole new light on Digby Hazelhurst.”
    Jonas grinned. “Can’t wait to finish this consulting job and write the definitive biography of the man.” He found the light switch and flipped it on. “Hazelhurst obviously considered this room important enough to have wired for electricity.” Jonas took a whip off the wall and examined it with great interest.
    “I’m not sure a reputable publisher would even print a biography of Digby. Jonas, for heaven’s sake, put down that whip.”
    He laughed softly, drawing the lash through his fingers. “You can learn a lot from a respectable scholar like Hazelhurst.”
    “Don’t look at me like that, Jonas.”
    Jonas gave the whip a gentle flick and Verity jumped in startled reaction as the lash curled itself around her waist. It didn’t hurt a bit. Jonas tugged gently on the whip handle and drew her toward him.
    “This is not amusing,” Verity announced in regal tones. She caught the tip of the lash and started to unwind it from her waist. “It’s made out of velvet,” she exclaimed in amazement. “No wonder it didn’t hurt.”
    “Want to experiment with some of the other stuff?” Jonas asked, looking far too hopeful.
    “I most certainly do not.” Verity finished unwinding the lash from her waist. “Put that back this instant.”
    “You never let me have any fun.” He replaced the velvet whip.
    Verity studied the floor. “Maggie’s kept this area clean, I see. Sentimental reasons, no doubt. I wonder what she and Digby did in here.”
    “The sort of kinky things that would make a little prude like you turn fire-engine red, I’ll bet.”
    “Talk about weird.” She put down a manacle she had been examining and looked at Jonas. “Now what? Back into the corridor?”
    “I don’t think so. It’s getting late, and you need your sleep. I think we’ll go on back to our room. But no need to do it the hard way.” He walked across the torture chamber and opened the door. “Might as well use the main route. No sense going back through that stone-cold passage.”
    “What if someone notices us wandering around?”
    “We’ll just say you wanted a drink of water and I came along to keep you company.”
    They found their way back to the second floor of the south wing without incident. But when they passed the door to Elyssa’s room, the sound of angry voices caught their attention.
    “That’s Yarwood in there with Elyssa,” Verity observed as they hurried past. “Wonder what they’re fighting about.”
    Jonas gave the closed door a thoughtful glance. “I don’t know, but it sounds serious.” He stopped to listen.
    Verity frowned. “Remember what Caitlin said about Yarwood being dangerous? Maybe we should interrupt.”
    “The last thing any sane person does is get involved in an argument between two people who are sleeping together. You did tell me that Yarwood and Elyssa are having an affair, didn’t you?”
    “That’s what Slade said. Yarwood sounds furious, doesn’t he?”
    Preston Yarwood’s raised voice was barely audible behind the wooden door.
    “You hot-assed little bitch,” Yarwood shouted. “What the hell do you mean, you want to call things off between us? I’m the one who turned you on to your psychic potential in the first place, remember?”
    “Now, Preston, you know this isn’t a personal thing. I admire you very much, but Saranantha says I must seek another mate.”
    “Fuck Saranantha! I know what you’re up to. You want to screw Quarrel, don’t you? I’m not about to let you dump me like this just so you can hop into bed with some jerk you think has stronger psychic powers.”
    “Preston, please there’s no need to shout. I’m only following Saranantha’s advice. She is my spirit guide. You know that.”
    “I’ll shout if I feel like it, goddammit. And don’t use Saranantha as an excuse. You’ve got the hots for Quarrel because you think he’s got psychic power. Well, I’ve got news for you, I’m the only real psychic around here. Quarrel’s a fraud.”
    “He is not!”
    “He hasn’t found that treasure, has he? He’s a fraud, all right. I don’t care what those lab people said. I knew it all along. I had my suspicions when I was at Vincent, and I’ve been proven right. Quarrel hasn’t found