Sizzle and Burn

“You’re really nice to have in a crowd.”
    “You know what they say, everyone’s got a talent.”
    He carried her to the car, setting her carefully on her feet before opening the door. She scooted into the passenger seat and waited until he went around to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel.
    She realized that, although she was still very much aware of him with all her senses, she was no longer picking up the hot, flaring energy that had raised the hair on the nape of her neck a few minutes before.
    “What did you mean back there in the club when you said you knew something had happened to me?” she asked, deeply curious.
    “Just a feeling.” He put the car in gear, rested one arm on the back of the seat and turned his head to check the rearview.
    “Like the feeling I had the other night when you were attacked?”
    “Maybe.” He reversed out of the parking slot with smooth competence and aimed the car toward the exit. “I should probably tell you that the experts claim there’s no such thing as telepathy, though.”
    “These experts of yours. Do they know everything?”
    “Hell, no.” He drove out onto the street. “In fact, they’re the first to tell you that scientific investigation of the paranormal is still in its infancy. The Society has made a lot of progress in the past few decades but there are some major barriers.”
    “Such as?”
    “Technology, for one.” He slowed for a light. “It’s hard enough coming up with reasonable theories to explain psychic phenomena. Figuring out how to detect and measure it is even more difficult because modern technology isn’t designed to explore the paranormal.”
    “Hmm. Hadn’t thought about that problem.”
    “How’s the ankle?”
    “Hurts a little,” she admitted.
    He did not say anything, just concentrated on driving.
    “You discovered something at St. Damian’s, didn’t you?” she asked.
    “Vella Tallentyre was murdered.”
    She swallowed hard. As often as she had let her imagination play with that disturbing possibility, it was, nevertheless, very hard to take in the reality of it.
    “How?” she whispered.
    “I think Quinn gave her a lethal injection.”
    A sick horror, followed by a tide of guilt, rose inside her, threatening to make her ill.
    “Nothing came up in the autopsy,” she reminded him, trying to quell another tsunami of guilt.
    “There are a lot of drugs that can trigger a heart attack and leave no trace. Remember, Lawrence Quinn was an expert on meds. He also knew how they affect people with strong parapsych profiles.”
    “You’re sure he gave her something?”
    “I saw his hand,” Zack said quietly. “Sensed the syringe in it. I could feel his anticipation of the kill. He was…excited.”
    Tears leaked out of her eyes. “Dear heaven. He enjoyed killing her?”
    “No. When I said excited , I meant jacked up. He was very, very nervous. Scared that someone would catch him, probably. But I could tell that he was also thrilled because he believed he had gotten whatever it was he wanted from Vella. The combination of emotions was so strong they left a lot of residue on the bed railing.”
    “But what could he possibly have wanted from her?”
    “I don’t know but I got the impression that he killed her to protect the secret, whatever it was. He didn’t want to risk that she might tell someone else what she told him.”
    She blinked back more tears.
    “Are you okay?” Zack asked.
    “Not really.” She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. “But whatever he gave her obviously didn’t work right away. The orderly said Aunt Vella was calm after Quinn left.”
    “I think that’s true. I got no sensation of resistance. Vella didn’t fight back. In fact, she seemed to welcome the injection. Quinn must have tricked her, convinced her that whatever he was giving her would help her.”
    “She wouldn’t have been able to pick up any warning signals on the psychic plane because her clairaudient talents had all disappeared,” Raine said. Sadness mingled with the guilt, roiling her insides. “On top of that, even her normal senses were probably dulled because of her regular medications. She had no natural defenses left at all.”
    The night seemed to grow heavier and darker, closing around the moving car.
    “There’s something else,” Zack said. “Something that may be very, very important.”
    “What?”
    “I picked up a hospital pen. It was like touching a live electrical wire.