Running Hot

mattered, given what had happened last night. He’d obviously known from the start that she was attracted to him.
    No one had ever been able to read her. She had always been the one who did the reading; the one who knew what others were going to do, sometimes before they did. That was how she had kept her secrets secure.
    “Well, this is awkward,” she said, cheeks burning.
    He looked amused. “Takes some getting used to but I’m okay with it if you are.”
    This was very dangerous ground. She had to be careful. She could not afford to jeopardize the new life she had so carefully crafted.
    “I need to think about it a little more,” she said weakly.
    “You do that. Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me your real Jones Scale number?”
    Thoroughly rattled now, she tried to compose herself.
    “Didn’t Mr. Jones tell you?” she said.
    “He gave me some line about you being a level seven with an unusual ability to profile the auras you read. That’s a flat-out lie, though, isn’t it? I’m betting you’re a level ten, at least. Wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve got an asterisk after your number, too. You’re an exotic.”
    She could not afford to panic, she reminded herself. Anger was a much safer response.
    “I don’t know where you got that idea,” she said coldly. “My level seven is as official as your level eight.”
    He nodded, satisfied. “Like I said, a flat-out lie.”
    “You admit it?” she demanded, incredulous.
    “Where’s the harm? You probably already know it, being such a hotshot talent and all. I doubt that you’re going to run around telling everyone you meet.”
    “Well, no. It’s just that Mr. Jones assured me that you were an eight.”
    “The sooner you learn that Fallon Jones lies through his teeth whenever it suits him the better off you’ll be.”
    She sank down on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped in her lap, her back to him. She looked out at the lanai. “I don’t think he lied for the sake of it. I think he was trying to protect your secret.”
    “You want to be careful about attributing good intentions to Fallon Jones. His only priority is protecting the Society’s secrets. He’ll do whatever it takes to accomplish that objective.”
    “I suppose you’re right,” she said. She wondered uneasily how much Fallon knew or suspected about her own Jones Scale number.
    “Fallon tweaked my file to make sure my rank stayed under the radar,” Luther said. “He wanted to keep my abilities under wraps. But how the hell did you manage to alter your own number?”
    “What makes you think that I did?”
    “Because I can see your power wavelengths,” he said quietly. “I can feel them. Whatever you are, you’re no seven.”
    Maybe she could finesse this.
    “I told you, my mother died when I was thirteen, shortly before I was due to be tested at Arcane House. I went straight into the foster care system where no one knew or cared about the Society. The result was that I wasn’t tested until I applied to join the Bureau. By then I knew how to control my talent. It was no big deal to make sure I scored a seven. You know how people react to nines and tens within the Society.”
    “Sure. They think we’re freaks of nature. Freaks, especially powerful freaks, make people nervous. So, what are you? A ten?”
    She cleared her throat. “A nine.”
    “Bullshit. You should see your aura. It’s pulsing like crazy. You’re a ten plus, aren’t you?”
    That much was true.
    “Yes,” she said.
    “Like me.”
    She sighed. “The Jones Scale stops at ten.”
    “Only because they haven’t found a way to measure psychic energy beyond that point. That’s why they came up with the damned asterisk. Think Fallon Jones knows your real number?”
    “Until this morning, I would have said no.” She unclasped her hands. “Now, I’m not so sure. Given the nature of his own talent, I suppose it’s possible he’s guessed that I’m a little higher than my file indicates.”
    “You’re an exotic,” he said, very sure. “Like me.”
    One secret in exchange for another. As he had pointed out, where was the harm in acknowledging a piece of the truth to another aura talent? It was a relief to admit it to someone who truly understood.
    “Yes,” she said. She made a face. “But I hate that word.”
    “Exotic?”
    “It’s just a semi-polite term for psychic freak.”
    “You’re no freak.” He started toward her, cane thudding softly on the carpet. “But you are a