The Hot Zone (A Rainshadow Novel Book 3) (21 page)

The youngsters were gathered together in front of the entrance to the old warehouse that contained the Haunted Alien Catacombs attraction. A few were crying. Some looked confused. Several worried adults, including Devin’s grandmother, Myrna Reed, and Charlotte and Rachel had formed a protective circle around the children and were talking quietly to them.

The dust bunnies were doing their part to calm the kids. They hopped from fairy to doctor to superhero, making soothing sounds.

Devin Reed spotted Cyrus and Sedona first.

“The chief said for you to go in as soon as you got here, Mr. Jones,” he announced in official tones.

Cyrus nodded. “All right.” He looked at Myrna. “What have we got?”

“Dead body,” she said quietly. “Not a local. Must be one of the tourists. Some of the kids found him when they entered the last exhibit inside.”

“Actually the dust bunnies found the body,” Devin said.

Cyrus nodded and turned back to Myrna. “Cause of death?”

“Mag-rez. Slade says it’s a double-tap.”

“Pro.”

Myrna wrinkled her nose. “On Rainshadow. Who knew we’d become a tourist destination for that crowd?”

Lyle chortled a greeting to Sedona and waved the small gleaming object that he held in one paw. At first she thought it was a Halloween cookie wrapped in shiny foil. When she collected him from Annie, he offered her the gift.

She glanced at it and shivered. Without a word she handed Lyle’s gift to Cyrus.

“It’s an amber compass,” Cyrus said. “Standard Guild issue.”

“Look at the back,” Sedona said.

He turned it over in his hand and examined the name and serial number that had been stamped on the flat metal surface. “This is interesting.”

“Whose compass is it?” Rachel asked.

“It belongs to Kirk Morgan, the head of the Gold Creek Guild,” Sedona said. “The jerk boss who set me up to be kidnapped.”

The overhead lights were on inside the old warehouse, casting a bright glare on the tableaus. Sedona and Cyrus went through the heavily draped space, past Alien witches stirring their cauldrons and Alien vampires rising up from their coffins.

The small group of grim-faced people at the back of the warehouse was gathered around the scene of an Alien mad scientist working in his lab. Kirk Morgan’s body, clad in Guild khaki and leather, was stretched out on the lab table as though about to be autopsied.

The lab apparatus arrayed around the exhibit was hokey and theatrical, replete with mysteriously bubbling beakers and an old-fashioned amber-generator that spit out harmless sparks. Just a melodramatic scene from an old horror movie, Sedona thought. Nevertheless it brought back fragments of her nightmares. She swallowed hard.

“Okay, this can’t be a coincidence,” she said.

“No,” Cyrus agreed.

“I’d say the killer has a really warped sense of humor,” Slade said. “Which, when you get right down to it, is not typical of the average professional hit man.”

“It’s not a joke,” Sedona whispered. “It’s a warning. Someone was sending a message to me.”

Cyrus shook his head. “Why put you on guard like that? Sending a warning doesn’t sound like the work of a pro, either. They do a job and get out.”

“He’s got a point,” Harry said. “Wouldn’t a pro have taken more pains to conceal the body?”

“That’s easier said than done in a small town,” Slade said. “Still, at the very least, you’d think a pro would have dumped the body into the bay to wash off some of the evidence.”

Sedona glanced at him. “Did you find some? Evidence, I mean?”

Slade held up a small white card. “Nothing as helpful as a cell phone with Morgan’s list of contacts but this was in his wallet.”

Cyrus glanced at the card. “It’s Morgan’s. Just says he’s the CEO of the Gold Creek Guild. What’s useful about it?”

“There’s a phone number on the back,” Slade said. “I’ll give it a call and see who answers.”

Sedona was standing close enough to see the number written on the card. She stared at it in shock.

“Don’t bother,” she said. “It’s Brock’s private phone number. Only those closest to him have it.” She folded her arms around herself. “But this doesn’t make any sense. Whatever else he is, Brock is not a professional assassin.”

Slade looked at the body. “Don’t bank on that. Pros are very, very good at wearing masks.”

Cyrus’s phone rang less than twenty minutes later, just as he and Sedona walked back through the door of her cottage.

“I found Prescott,” Slade said. “He was at the marina, trying to find a private charter to take him to Thursday Harbor. He’s confused and disoriented. I think he’s on drugs. That would explain the over-the-top display of Morgan’s body. I’ll know more when he comes down off the high.”

“
If
he comes down,” Cyrus said. “Listen, if he’s on the drug I’m thinking of, he’ll either go crazy or else he’ll be dead by morning. We need information from him. I’ve got a dose of the antidote. Can I see him long enough to give it to him?”

Slade thought about that. “This is about finding that drug dealer who kidnapped Sedona?”

“Yes.”

“Come on down to the police station. I’ll meet you there.”

Cyrus ended the connection and looked at Sedona. “They picked up Brock. Slade says he’s acting irrationally, as if he’s on a drug high.”

Sedona frowned. “Brock never did drugs while I was with him.”

She set Lyle down on the floor and gave him the sack of candy that the kids had sent home with him in payment for his contribution to the evening. The sack was bigger than he was. It bulged with goodies.

Lyle chortled, thrilled with his haul, and dragged the sack off to a corner behind the reading chair.

Sedona straightened and looked at Cyrus.

“Do you really think Brock is on the formula?” she asked.

“It’s a strong possibility.” Cyrus went to the lockbox, opened it, and took out the case with the syringe. “His involvement in this thing would explain a lot, including why he never expected to see you again. I’m going to give him the antidote. It will put him to sleep for a few hours but he should wake up in the morning. I want answers from him.”

“I’m coming with you,” Sedona said.

“Of course you are. I’m sure as hell not leaving you here all by yourself.”

*   *   *

Brock was more than confused and disoriented. He was hallucinating wildly by the time Cyrus and Sedona arrived. He raged back and forth in the small jail cell, alternately clutching at his hair and then the cell bars. When he saw Sedona he stared at her as if he could not believe his eyes.

“Dead,” he said. “You’re dead.”

She moved toward the bars. “Brock, can you understand me?”

“Get away from me.” He shuddered and lurched backward, eyes widening in panic. “You’re a ghost. Don’t touch me.”

Sedona looked at Cyrus. “I’ve never seen him in this condition. You’re right, he’s definitely on something.”

“The question is, what’s he been using?” Harry asked.

Rachel spoke up. “Slade asked me to view Prescott’s aura. There’s a lot of violence and chaos in the pattern but that’s typical of the effects of any strong mind-altering drug or steroids, for that matter.”

“It’s typical of that damned formula, too,” Cyrus said.

“No telling exactly what he’s on without a tox screen, and we don’t have time for that,” Slade said. “Not like we’ve got a handy-dandy forensics lab here on Rainshadow.”

Cyrus held up the syringe. “If he’s on the drug I think he’s using, this should bring him down. If he’s on some other drug this antidote won’t do any harm, it will just put him to sleep for a while.”

Brock started to scream. He stared at the floor of his cell as if it were the entrance to hell. “They’re coming for me. You’ve got to stop them. Save me.”

Slade made an executive decision. “Give him the antidote. Harry and I will restrain him.”

Five minutes later Brock was unconscious on the cot.

“Now what?” Harry asked.

“Now we wait until he wakes up to get some answers,” Cyrus said.

“I can’t believe it.” Sedona paced past the fireplace, came face-to-face with a wall, turned on her heel and started back in the other direction. “Brock was in on this from the start? How in the world would he have gotten involved with Blankenship?”

Cyrus looked up from his computer screen. “There are a lot of questions here. We’ll know more in the morning.”

They were back in her cottage. He had poured some whiskey for both of them. Now he was sitting on the couch, running searches to see if the news of Morgan’s death had reached Gold Creek Guild headquarters. On the other end, in Frequency City, Marlowe was searching for possible connections between Morgan and Brock Prescott. Blankenship was still missing.

Lyle was in the corner, gloating over his stash of Halloween candy. Evidently unable to make a decision about which piece to eat first, he kept arranging and rearranging his mound of brightly wrapped goodies. He treated each treat as if it were a piece of precious amber.

Sedona paused at the far end of the room and swallowed some of the whiskey. “It certainly took a lot of nerve to kill Kirk Morgan. I mean, he’s a Guild boss, for crying out loud. Brock had to know that would cause a stir. Good grief. The Chamber would have pulled out all the stops to find him. Why would he take such a risk?”

“Because he’s on the drug and he’s deteriorating,” Cyrus said patiently. “At least he was before I gave him the antidote. The first thing to go is impulse control. According to the old files, users tend to take risks, believing that they are supermen who can get away with actions that would give any normal person second thoughts.”

“Okay, if you say so. Sure doesn’t sound like Brock, though.” Sedona started back across the carpet. “I wonder why Kirk Morgan agreed to meet Brock on Rainshadow?”

“Brock probably promised to deliver you to him.”

“But he didn’t even try to grab me. He tried to talk me into leaving with him, but he didn’t make any overt physical moves.”

“Unless he is the one who set that psi-trap, after all,” Cyrus said, thinking about it. “Maybe he developed a new talent for working Alien psi.”

She winced. “Like me, do you mean?” She shivered. “And then he started to deteriorate.”

“Not like you.” Cyrus got to his feet and went to stand in front of her. He gripped her shoulders and waited until she met his eyes. “You are stable. You’re immune to the side effects of the drug, remember? That’s why Blankenship wanted to get hold of you in the first place.”

“But what if the side effects have simply been delayed in my case?”

“Trust me, you would be showing signs of instability by now. But if the worst happens, I’ll give you the antidote. Marlowe tells me the second batch will be ready soon.”

“We don’t even know if the antidote would work on me, my para-psych profile being so abnormal.”

“Stop it.” He moved his hands upward to capture her face. “You’re okay, Sedona. And you’re going to remain okay. Rachel read your aura, remember?”

Sedona closed her eyes. When she opened them, she looked more composed.

“I know,” she said. “Sorry. I guess this business of discovering that Brock was involved in the kidnapping has really rattled me. It’s worse than finding out that Blankenship and Morgan set me up. I mean, one of them is a mad scientist and the other is an old-school Guild boss.” She paused. “Sorry. No offense intended.”

He pulled her into his arms. “None taken. The old-school bosses did not exactly cover themselves in glory.”

“I think what’s really bothering me, is the fact that my own judgment was so faulty when it came to Brock. I knew the relationship was never going to be long-term but I thought he at least liked me. To find out that he was just manipulating me all along is . . . unnerving. I feel like an idiot for not seeing the truth early on in our relationship.”

“You said yourself you were pretty sure he had some talent for charisma.”

“Yes, but he seemed like a nice guy—not perfect—but okay,” Sedona said. “Now, if you’re right, he’s a full-blown psychopath.”

“Because of the formula. Look, forget Brock Prescott, okay? I’m the one who’s here tonight.”

She managed a misty smile.

“Do you trust me?” Cyrus asked

“Yes,” she said. “I trust you.”

“And you will note that there is no weird blue psi in the atmosphere, right?”

“Right.”

“And neither of us is in the grip of a post-burn buzz, correct?”

“Correct.” Her brows snapped together in confusion. “Where are you going with this?”

“To bed with you, I hope.”

He kissed her before she could say anything else. She seemed somewhat startled at first but as soon as he deepened the kiss she responded. She sank into him with a soft sigh. Her arms went around his neck. Her mouth softened; her lips parted.

The rush that he got whenever he touched her hit him. Anticipation rolled through him in waves. He was as hard as he had ever been in his life.

After a moment he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He did not turn on the lights. Instead, he undressed her in the shadows and got her into bed. He was peeling off his trousers when she suddenly looked down the hall toward the fire-lit living room.

“Lyle,” she said. “He’s out there with all that candy.”

“Something tells me we don’t want to try to take it away from him.”

There were two small clinks when he set the mag-rez and the flamer on the bedside table. Moonlight glinted on the weapons.

Sedona glanced at them. “You’re still worried?”

“Blankenship is out there, somewhere. So are his two assistants. I believe I mentioned that there’s a streak of paranoia in the Jones family.”

“Those of us who have been kidnapped by drug-dealing mad scientists totally understand the tendency.”

He climbed under the covers, savoring the intimacy of the moment. The sexual energy in the atmosphere resonated with his senses, both normal and paranormal. When he touched her warm body and inhaled her intoxicating scent, he knew that she was also aroused.

He pushed back the covers and levered himself up on one elbow so that he could admire her in the moonlight. The silvery glow transformed her into a creature of magic; irresistible, enchanting, captivating.

He put his hand on her breast. “You are amazing.”

She smiled and reached up to pull him down to her. “So are you, Cyrus Jones.”

He smoothed his hand down to the curve of her waist and the graceful swell of her hip. He drank from her lips while he teased the hidden places of her body.

She explored him slowly. By the time she took his rigid erection into her hand he was sweating and close to the edge of his control. He could hear her quick little breaths. When he eased two fingers into her she clenched tightly.

“Oh, yes,” she whispered.

Energy crackled in the atmosphere, challenging him.

He took a breath and slowly heightened his talent. The energy levels soared around them.

He drove slowly, deeply into her tight body in one long, relentless stroke. At the same time he released the last restraints on his talent. The dark, heavy waves of his aura clashed with the heat of her own energy field.

Fire and ice danced in the night. Heat blazed in the room. He could have sworn he saw flames. He was certain he felt them licking at his aura.

He looked around. Sure enough small sparks of paranormal fire were flashing in the bedroom.

“How are you doing that?” he asked, amazed. “You’re not using your flicker.”

“The fireplace,” she gasped. “It’s putting out a lot of energy. It’s close enough to supply the currents I need.” She giggled. “I didn’t know I could ignite a fire from this distance, either.”

He laughed. “You are one dangerous woman.”

The amusement evaporated from her eyes. “But you’re not afraid of me, are you?”

“How could I be afraid of you? Honey, you were made for me.”

He kissed her again and began to move slowly, deliberately, in and out of her clenched body. The energy in the atmosphere got hotter.

But in the next moment, their auras were resonating in the same stunning harmony that had occurred in the cave.

“Told you so,” he said against Sedona’s mouth. “No blue energy involved.”

She opened her mouth—perhaps to laugh—but in that instant her release swept through her. Her thighs tightened around his waist. Her nails sank into his shoulders. Her head tipped back. Her eyes squeezed shut. And the only sound she made was a breathless cry.

Her climax pulled him into the vortex. For a timeless moment he was locked in the shatteringly intimate embrace. The past and the future no longer mattered. He was with Sedona. That was all that was important for now.