Running Hot

field.”
    “There was a struggle,” Luther said tonelessly. He looked at one of his hands. “I was right on top of him.”
    Fallon tapped merrily away on his computer. “Takes a while to recover from that kind of burn. My guess is that you’re going to need to crash for a few hours.”
    “No shit.” It was a damn shame that Fallon was so far away, Luther thought. It would have been very satisfying to throttle him.
    “Couple of other things you might want to know about this kind of thing,” Fallon said.
    “Go on.”
    “I came across an old Society research paper on the subject a while back. Evidently the experience of killing someone the way you just did is described as intimate, akin to using a knife or your bare hands.”
    Luther tightened his grip on the cane. “Thanks for that.”
    “Hence the possible parapsych fallout,” Fallon added.
    “What the hell?”
    “Posttraumatic stress and all that. The paper said that the aftereffects are highly unpredictable.”
    “Did it ever occur to you to warn me about any of this?”
    “No,” Fallon said.
    “Why not?”
    “Well, for one thing, there’s no way to know if an aura talent can actually extinguish another person’s energy field until he actually does it. That pretty much rules out experimental trials, at least as far as the Society is concerned. For another, the records of the handful of talents who could generate that kind of energy have always been classified to the highest levels. The Society doesn’t need that kind of stuff hitting the Internet or the tabloids.”
    “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your keeping that information from me, Fallon.”
    “Like I said, no way to know if you could do it until you did it.” Fallon broke off again. There were more clicking noises. “Here’s something interesting.”
    “I’m not sure I can take any more interesting news.”
    “According to the experts, you didn’t actually kill Craigmore.”
    “This is starting to sound like a trip down the rabbit hole.”
    “Here’s the deal,” Fallon continued, unfazed by the lack of enthusiasm. “Evidently what you did with your aura was reflect the violent energy that Craigmore was generating. In effect, you created a mirror. When you came in contact with him, he got a severe bounce-back jolt. It set up a dissonant wave pattern that shattered his aura. In essence, Craigmore was the victim of a ricochet shot.”
    “Huh.”
    “Trust me,” Fallon said, “there’s no trace of physical evidence in situations like this. It will look like Craigmore’s heart just stopped. Which is pretty much what happens at the end, anyway, regardless of what kills you.”
    “Craigmore was a wealthy man,” Luther said. “Whoever inherits his financial empire may have a few questions about the manner of his death.”
    “A few years back Craigmore informed the previous Master that he intended to leave his entire estate to the Society to continue funding its research. Under the circumstances, I doubt that the Council will ask too many questions.”
    “Craigmore and I didn’t exactly have a lengthy conversation in the garage,” Luther said, “but in view of his admission that he was Nightshade, he may have changed his mind about who gets his money.”
    “Yeah, can’t wait to see who comes out of the woodwork to collect,” Fallon said. “I’ve got people on the way to Craigmore’s home and his office to see what they can dig up. The good news is that I don’t think Craigmore ever found out that you and Grace stumbled into those four other Nightshade talents on Maui. As far as he knew, you were interested in Eubanks only because J&J was investigating him for murder.”
    “Craigmore was on the Council. Why didn’t he learn that we stumbled into the Nightshade connection?”
    “Because I didn’t enter anything into the computer files about the link to Nightshade and because Zack chose not to inform the Council about what you and Grace discovered,” Fallon said.
    Luther whistled softly. “You two really are worried about a spy, aren’t you?”
    “I told you, Zack sensed that there was a Nightshade plant somewhere very high up within the Society. He had even begun to think that the spy might be on the Council. Guess the big sixty-four-dollar question now is, How many other members of the organization are members of the Society?”
    “Any idea why Craigmore wanted Eubanks taken out?”
    “Not yet,” Fallon admitted. “Just starting to work