Running Hot

aura to full power, lurched partway to his feet and fell on top of Craigmore. He caught hold of one arm and twisted hard. At the same time he threw everything he had at Craigmore’s wildly pulsing energy field.
    There was a stunning flash of energy on the paranormal plane. Luther felt his parasenses go blind for an instant.
    He saw Craigmore’s mouth open on what was probably intended to be a shout. But what emerged was an eerie groan, the kind you expected to hear in graveyards at midnight. His eyes widened in shock. He jerked, flopped around and then went unnaturally still. His aura winked out just as the psychic laser had a few minutes earlier. The gun thunked on the garage floor.
    An eternity passed.
    Luther’s senses came crashing back. It occurred to him that he was still gripping the dead man’s arm. He released it and rolled clear of the body. For a moment he lay on the cold concrete, trying to catch his breath and steady his senses.
    He heard only the merest whisper of sound on the concrete steps before he saw the flash of an aura. He did not move.
    “Wayne, it’s me,” he said urgently.
    Wayne emerged from the stairwell. He had his gun in his hand. Everything about him was preternaturally focused. He was in the kill zone.
    “You okay?” he asked in a very flat voice.
    “Yeah.” Luther relaxed a little. “He was waiting for me. An ambush. What are you doing here? Wait, don’t tell me. Petra had a feeling, right?”
    Wayne came out of the zone. He shrugged and tucked the gun into the holster beneath his trouser leg.
    “Both of ’em had a feeling,” he said.
    “Both?”
    “Grace and Petra. They both got a bad vibe. Grace wanted to come with me. Petra had to damn near tie her down.”
    “Guess I should have paid more attention to Ray’s warning tonight.”
    “Now, why in hell would you want to do that? Ray’s crazy.”

THIRTY-THREE
    “Do I need to talk to our guy in the Honolulu PD?” Fallon Jones asked.
    “No,” Luther said. “Craigmore had a silencer. No one came to investigate. Petra and Wayne cleaned up the scene.”
    He and Grace were in the apartment. He was on the phone, pacing, trying to ignore the aftereffects of the heavy burn. She was gazing into the glowing computer screen as if it were a crystal ball, contemplating her precious genealogy files.
    It was taking everything he had to stay focused on the conversation with Fallon. What he really wanted, needed, was a stiff shot of whiskey and then sleep.
    “What did you do with the body?” Fallon asked, pragmatic, as always.
    “This is Hawaii. Gets a little warm here. We wrapped it in a few yards of plastic kitchen wrap and stashed it in the walk-in refrigerator at the restaurant.”
    Luckily Petra bought extra-heavy-duty plastic wrap and she purchased it in commercial-size containers.
    “You don’t do things in a discreet way, do you?” Fallon’s voice rumbled through the phone. “Craigmore was a distinguished member of the Council. He served for fifteen years and was considered to be one of the most powerful men in the Society. Now it turns out he was a traitor.”
    “What kind of talent?” Luther asked.
    “Craigmore was a crystal generator,” Fallon said.
    “What’s that?”
    “A specialized kind of crystal worker. He could channel energy through a few extremely rare gemstones. That laser gadget you described appears to have worked by disrupting and neutralizing an individual’s aura.”
    “Where the hell did he get that thing?”
    “Good question. We’re still looking into it. It didn’t come out of our labs, that’s for sure. Best guess now is that it was designed especially for his talent in that no-name government agency he used to work for.”
    “He worked for the government?”
    “Back in the day. There are over twenty government agencies dedicated to national security and intelligence issues. Some people in the know claim the number is closer to thirty. And they’ve all got black-hole departments that are used for clandestine purposes. Every so often one of them decides to experiment with paranormal research. Not that any of them would ever admit it, of course. That would mean trying to justify the funding to Congress. The media would have a field day blasting the feds for spending tax dollars on junk science. ”
    Luther understood the sudden flash of anger in Fallon’s tone. Many members of the Arcane community found society’s attitudes toward the paranormal frustrating and, on occasion,