Gift of Gold

was very much afraid her tactics weren’t working. She was scared to death that she had already fallen in love with Jonas. That knowledge seemed only to whet the edge of her tongue.
    Jonas finished the tale of their trip to San Francisco, elaborating cheerfully on his brilliant handling of the negotiations.
    “So that was that,” he concluded triumphantly. “After getting the price up another three thousand, I accepted Haggerty’s offer. After that, Verity and I went shopping for costumes for that damned Renaissance ball Evanger’s planning. Verity went crazy in the costume store, by the way. I had to forcibly restrain her at times. You should have seen the gown she wanted to rent. Scarlet and gold, and it was cut to her navel.”
    “It was a beautiful gown. And very authentic. They wore lots of low-cut gowns during the Renaissance,” Verity defended herself as she added stone-ground mustard to her potato and pea salad.
    “Who’s the authority on the Renaissance around here, anyway?” Jonas retorted. “That dress you wanted looked like it was designed for an expensive call girl.”
    “I wanted to go as a Renaissance courtesan.”
    Jonas smiled grimly. “Be grateful I didn’t rent the nun’s outfit for you.”
    Verity raised her eyebrows as she looked at her father. “He was in a terrible mood when we went into the costume shop, even though he’d made that great deal for the pistols. He’d been annoyed with me ever since we left Kincaid’s office.”
    “She kept smiling at the bastard,” Jonas muttered.
    “I was only following orders. Your orders, Jonas,” Verity said pointedly. “You’re the one who told me to smile at the man, remember? I was supposed to play the part of a fluff-brained redhead.”
    “You didn’t have to go overboard, dammit. He was looking at you the way a shark looks at a swimmer’s feet.”
    Emerson held up a palm, seeking peace. “Children, children, that’s enough squabbling for now. This is too grand a day to ruin with bickering. Save your fighting for later.”
    “Good idea,” Verity said. “I’m too busy to fight now anyway. But you haven’t heard the whole story of our little adventure, Dad. Jonas didn’t tell you that he tested himself again on a dagger that was hanging on the wall of Kincaid’s office.”
    Emerson cocked a bushy brow. “Is that right? Same thing as when you handled the gun? A mental image in a long corridor?”
    “The corridor seemed different this time,” Verity answered. “Vaguer, somehow. Less clear and defined. But there was a scene in it. A horrible one. It was an image of a man sprawled on a dinner table. Blood all over the linguini.”
    Jonas studied the small print on his beer can. “I’ve been thinking about the lack of definition in the corridor itself,” he said slowly. “I wonder if it’s got something to do with the fact that the dagger and the scene we encountered were only a few years old. Maybe the psychic energy they generate is still coalescing and shaping itself. The thing is, I shouldn’t have been able to pick up on anything that recent.”
    “Did you know the dagger was twentieth century when you asked Kincaid to let you handle it?” Verity asked.
    Jonas nodded. “I was almost certain it was a reproduction. There was something about the look of the steel. The instant I touched it I knew it was contemporary, but at the same time it was giving off vibrations like crazy.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand it, unless…”
    Verity bit her lip. “Unless what?”
    He gave her a disturbingly direct look. “Unless being around you is having the same effect all that testing back at Vincent College did.”
    “You mean your talent might be getting stronger?” Verity asked uneasily.
    “Yeah.”
    There was silence in the kitchen as they both considered the ramifications of that. Emerson looked curiously from one to the other. “Trouble?”
    “Jonas considers his ability a mixed blessing,” Verity explained quietly. “But at least up until now it’s been limited to a certain era of the past. If he’s getting stronger in terms of range, he’s going to run into more and more objects that will trigger his trips into the corridor.”
    “I get it,” Emerson drawled. “Could get to be a real nuisance, couldn’t it?”
    “To put it mildly,” Jonas agreed. “Damn.” He crumpled the beer can in his hand. “I could have done without this added complication.”
    Verity felt a cold chill. She