Sizzle and Burn

  “No such thing as vampires. I’ve got some psychic abilities, that’s all. And I think you do, too. You know what they say, takes one to know one. What’s your name?”

  “Josh.”

  “Nice to meet you, Josh. How come you’re in this place?”

  “I’m crazy.”

  “Yeah? What did you do? Set fires? Torture small animals?”

  “No. Nothing like that. I like animals.” Josh levered himself up on one elbow, shock and outrage overcoming his fear. “I sort of see light waves around people.”

  “Yeah, figured that was it.” Zack went closer to the bed. “Who put you in here?”

  “My stepmom. She got my dad to go along with it. Told him that if I stay with them, I’ll traumatize her kids and the new baby.”

  “Because you see auras?”

  “Is that what they are? The light waves?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Josh hesitated. “Yours are really strong. I thought you said you shut them down.”

  “I did. But level tens give off a lot of energy, even when we’re in neutral. Not everyone can sense that energy, though. Only other people with highly specialized parasenses.”

  “You sound as crazy as me.”

  “People who don’t have a strong paranormal nature often think that those of us who do are wack jobs. You got access to a computer in this place?”

  “Sure. Dr. Ogilvey let me bring one with me when I checked in. My stepmom said I spend too much time on it. But Dr. Ogilvey told my folks that it was important to me and that I should be allowed to do normal things that other kids my age do, like go online.”

  “Dr. Ogilvey seems like a pretty decent guy. He just doesn’t believe that it’s possible for folks to have paranormal senses.”

  “I know. I told him that he has a good aura, sort of warm and bright. He thought I was either hallucinating or making it up.”

  “He wouldn’t be the first person to suppress his own psychic nature. Lot of folks do that rather than deal with the fact that they’ve got extra senses.”

  “You sure you’re not another crazy?”

  “If I am, at least I’m not living here at St. Damian’s. I’ve got a life. Even got a lady friend who’s also psychic.”

  “Huh. Isn’t that sort of weird?”

  Zack pulled out his wallet and removed a card. “Seems normal to me. But then, I know some stuff you don’t know.”

  “Like what?”

  “I know about an organization for people like us. I’ll give you a link and the password you need to access the site online.”

  “Cool.”

  “I need a pen.”

  “There’s one over there on the desk,” Josh said, sounding awed.

  Zack looked around. There was just enough light to make out the pen and a pad of paper on the small desk near the window.

  “I see it.”

  He walked to the desk.

  “Man, you give off a lot of energy,” Josh whispered. “All kinds of colors but they don’t have names.”

  “That’s because paranormal energy comes from a different part of the spectrum than visible light. It emanates at wavelengths that the human eye can’t see.”

  “So, I’m like one of those birds that can see ultraviolet light that people can’t see?”

  “Exactly. The average psychic can’t detect that kind of energy, either, at least not as visible light. Only certain individuals—you, for instance—who happen to have a special type of sensitivity can detect other people’s aura patterns. It’s a gift.”

  “Some gift. It landed me in a loony bin.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m going to talk to some people. We’ll find a way to get you out.”

  Josh made a soft, derisive sound. “Think so?”

  “I know so,” Zack said.

  “You don’t know my stepmom.”

  “Trust me. There are people who specialize in this kind of work.”

  “What kind of work?”

  “Helping people with psychic abilities adjust to their senses and figure out how to act normal so they can live in the real world.”

  “Yeah?”

  There was so much aching hope in the single word that it was all Zack could do not to take him down the stairs and drive him straight to the nearest Arcane Society office. But there were rules against that kind of thing, not to mention a few laws. Fallon didn’t like it when a J&J agent was accused of kidnapping. Fortunately, there were other options. The Arcane Society had a whole team of experts trained to handle situations like Josh’s.

  “No problem,” Zack said. “Just takes a little time because we have to work through the system, for everyone’s sake. Meanwhile, though, I want you to check out this Web address I’m going to give you. You’ll find out that you’re not alone and that you’re not crazy.”

  He picked up the pen on the table.

  Searing, frantic, desperate psychic energy screamed through him. Faint, ghostly images flashed across his mind.

  He jacked up his senses and the visions became sharper and more vivid.

  …He saw his hand closing around the pen—no, a woman’s hand. He sensed a feminine essence…

  …Felt her struggle to write a message, the fierce determination to write the note before…

  …before she died…

  “Mister?” Josh was scared again. “Are you okay? Your aura’s going all weird.”

  “I’m all right.” He dialed back quickly. The images faded from his head. He was able to grip the pen, although he could still sense an electric trickle of energy.

  He wrote the Internet address and the password for the Arcane Society site that had been established for trusted outsiders who showed a serious interest in the paranormal. There were other sites for members only but Josh wasn’t ready for that. He would find the basic facts and, most of all, the reassurance he so badly needed at the first stop.

  He handed the card to Josh. “Next time you go online, take a look at this site. Meanwhile, I’ll talk to some people who should be able to convince Dr. Ogilvey and your folks that you’d do better with some different therapy.”

  Josh took the card, gripping it very tightly. “What happens if they can’t convince Ogilvey and my parents?”

  “Then we take more drastic measures. But these guys are experts, and Dr. Ogilvey really does want what’s best for you. They’ll know how to talk to him in his professional language.”

  “Okay,” Josh said, still afraid to believe.

  Zack gripped his shoulder. “Are you going to be okay here while this process works itself out? Could be a while. A few weeks, maybe.”

  “Yeah, sure. It’s not so bad. First thing Dr. Ogilvey did when I arrived was start cutting back on my meds. I went off them altogether on Monday. I’m feeling a lot better now. I can handle this place.”

  “Good. Meanwhile, for what it’s worth, my advice is to stop seeing auras.”

  Josh gave him a quizzical look. “You mean pretend to stop seeing them?”

  “Right. With luck, Ogilvey and his staff will conclude that the reason you were seeing them in the first place was because you were over-medicated. Overmedication gets blamed for all kinds of stuff.”

  “Should have thought of that myself.”

  “Look, I hate to leave you. I know you’ve got questions. But I’ve got to get out of here before someone comes around to check on you.”

  “Don’t worry. They only cruise through a couple of times at night. Last bed check was about an hour before you got here.”

  “You sure?”

  “Trust me, I’ve had plenty of time to figure out the routine here,” Josh said.

  “In that case, mind if I take a quick look around before I leave?”

  “Sure.” Josh hesitated. “Uh, why?”

  “Because I’m a private investigator and I’m looking into a case that involves the woman who was in this room before you.”

  “Oh, man, that’s what you do? You’re a for-real private investiga
tor?”

  “Pretty real. Most of the time.”

  Josh folded his legs, tailor fashion, under the sheet. “So what’s your psychic power? Is it like mine?”

  “No.” There was a glass on the table. He picked it up. Nothing. “I can sometimes sense someone else’s aura in a very vague, unfocused way if the person generates a lot of power and is standing fairly close. But I can’t see it clearly the way you do. I can’t read it.”

  “What about if you were standing close to a crazy person?”

  “Crazy people sometimes give off wild, chaotic energy that I can sense.”

  “Do I, uh, give off that kind of energy?” Josh asked uneasily.

  “No.” He put his hand on the base of the lamp. It was silent.

  “What are you looking for?” Josh asked.

  He moved on to the closet, braced himself for a jolt and eased the door open. “My talent allows me to pick up the psychic residue left by someone who was in the grip of a violent or powerful emotion.”

  There was nothing on the handle of the closet door except the usual layered static.

  “You felt something when you touched that pen a moment ago, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. A woman used it to write a note.”

  “What was violent about that?”

  He didn’t want to scare the kid to death, he reminded himself. “She was very worried about something at the time and desperate to leave a message for someone.”

  “That is so weird.”

  “Not any more weird than seeing auras.”

  Josh smiled for the first time. “Guess not. So, what do you think you’ll find in here?”

  He could not tell him that he was looking for traces of a killer who murdered a woman in this very room. Josh wouldn’t be able to sleep in that bed again.

  “Just seeing if there was anything else left behind,” he said.

  He wrapped his hand around the bed railing.

  …and jumped straight into a nightmare.

  He released the railing with a reflexive action.

  “Find something?” Josh asked, fascinated.

  “Yes,” he said. “I did. I have to go now, Josh.”

  “Okay.” Josh waited until he was almost at the door. “Zack?”

  He turned at the door, waiting. “Yeah?”

  “I can see how a guy with your talent could do some cool things like be a private detective or a cop. But what happens to people who see auras?”

  “Believe it or not, some of ’em become shrinks.”

  Forty-three

  The relentless pounding of the heavy metal rock music penetrated the restroom walls. Raine could feel the floor vibrating beneath her feet.

  She exited the graffiti-decorated stall and went to the sink to wash her hands. It was almost 2 A.M. and there was still no sign of Zack. On the positive side, she hadn’t experienced any more of the disturbing episodes like the semi panic attack that had alarmed her so badly when he encountered the knife-wielding illusion talent. On the negative side, she had no idea how much she could rely on such a sensation to warn her that he might be in trouble again.

  She readjusted her earplugs and then, taking a deep breath to fortify herself against the roar of the music, she opened the door.

  The restroom was dimly lit but the hallway was even darker. The route back to Noir’s main room was a narrow corridor draped in black. The only illumination was a string of eerie blue lights embedded in the floor beneath heavy glass. She looked down, watching where she placed her feet.

  A figure brushed past her and vanished into the men’s room. In the gloom he was little more than a dark shadow. With her attention focused on her footing, all she saw was a leather-clad pant leg and a heavy black boot.

  The scent of smoke laced with a strong, acrid-sweet herb drifted around her. Someone in the men’s room was either burning incense or smoking something strange. She had a hunch it was the latter. She wrinkled her nose, trying to avoid taking a deep breath.

  But the smoke grew stronger, not fainter. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she caught a hint of movement in the heavy black drapery to her left. It undulated as though a powerful current of air had moved over the fabric.

  No, not over the curtain, under it. The motion was caused by something or someone standing between the drapery and the wall. One of the club’s patrons had ducked behind the curtain to take a quick hit of something that was no doubt highly illegal.

  Out of nowhere a tide of voices rose in her head. She recognized the screams of rage and pain and sick, euphoric elation.

  …Need to swim in the blood. Need to bathe in it…

  …Die-die-die. Want to feel it when she finally stops breathing. Need it. Need to know I have the power to take her life…

  Old voices from a cold case she had worked with Bradley, she realized. They were intermingled with a lot of blurred static that clung to the hallway.

  …Need another hit. Gotta have it now, now, now. Don’t care what I have to do. Gotta have the stuff. Nothing else matters. Nothing…

  …Stupid bitch. Has it coming. She deserves to suffer. Make her pay…

  …Going to kill him this time…

  Panic welled up, as disorienting as the sea of ghostly voices. Zack was wrong when he’d promised that she wasn’t going to go crazy like Aunt Vella. It was happening. She was losing control. Her internal psychic defenses were crumbling. Everything was coming up out of the secret swamp.

  Suddenly there was another voice riding the swelling wave of screams. Zack, casually telling her something every member of the Arcane Society already knew.

  …Any sensitive who decides to experiment with illicit crap is really asking for nightmares…

  Okay, maybe she wasn’t going crazy. Maybe it was the herb-scented smoke. The stuff was doing something to her parasenses. She had to get away from it.

  She tried to hurry out of the hall but couldn’t seem to find her balance. When she looked down she saw that her feet, complete with high heels, had disappeared into the glowing blue light beneath the thick glass. She could no longer tell where she was stepping. The smoky drug was throwing both her normal and her paranormal senses into chaos.

  The heel of her invisible shoe skidded on the glass, twisting beneath her.

  She stumbled and started to fall. Instinctively she grabbed a handful of the black curtain to steady herself. But the thick drapery could not support her weight. It tore free of the hooks that secured it to the wall.

  She went down hard on the illuminated floor, still clutching the curtain. Yards of heavy fabric cascaded on top of her, threatening to suffocate her.

  A rush of adrenaline shot through her. This was ridiculous. She was not going to die here on the floor outside the restroom of a goth club. Clamping down savagely on the riot of horrible voices, she planted both hands on the illuminated floor and managed to push herself up onto all fours.

  The change in position allowed a draft of air in under the shroud of cloth. She could still smell the tainted smoke but it was not nearly as strong as it had been a moment before. Smoke rises, she thought. The air was less tainted here near the floor. The dust embedded in the curtains was another problem, however. She sneezed.

  There were more voices. Thankfully, they were not coming from inside her head. Two young men who had just emerged from the restroom were talking.

  “Hey, man, floor look a little weird to you?”

  “I told you that new shit was some righteous stuff.”

  “No, man, it’s, like, the curtain that used to be on the wall. What’s it doin’ on the floor? Can’t see the lights.”

  She drew another cautious breath. “Help.”

  “I think there’s somebody under there, man.”

  “You sure it ain’t the shit?”

  “Don’t think so.”

  The drapery was abruptly snatched away. She straightened to her knees and discovered two figures peering down at her. She couldn’t see their faces clearly in the deep sha
dows but the floor light illuminated two pairs of heavy leather boots.

  “Thank you,” she managed between sneezes.

  One of the young men bent over her, concerned. The blue floor light gleamed on the rings in his nose, eyelid and lower lip.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, thanks,” she said. The scent of the drug was almost gone. The air tasted relatively clean. “Could you give me a hand? I think I broke the heel of my shoe.”

  “Sure.” Ring Guy took a firm grip on her elbow and hauled her upright. “Hey, you’re Pandora’s boss, aren’t you? I’ve seen you in here before.”

  “That’s right.” Standing, she could see that both men were wearing leather vests that left their arms and chests bare. The better to exhibit their extensive tattoos, no doubt. Ring Guy’s hair was cut and gelled into a shark’s fin on top of an otherwise shaved head. His companion wore his hair in a long black ponytail.

  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the two of you coming to my rescue,” she said, giving them both a grateful smile. “That curtain weighed a ton. Thought I was going to suffocate under it.”

  “No problem,” Ring Guy said, pleased to play hero.

  “Yeah, sure,” Ponytail said enthusiastically. “Anytime. You gonna be okay now?”

  “I think so, yes.” She looked around, wondering why the noise level had gone up so dramatically. “You two weren’t behind the curtain, were you?”

  “Huh?” Ring Guy seemed confused. “No. We just came out of the restroom.”

  “I thought so,” she said. “There was someone else here a moment ago, hiding behind the curtains. Did you see anyone leave?”

  “No,” Ring Guy said. “But it’s sorta hard to see much in here.”

  “I know. Well, thanks again.”

  She tried to take a step and realized that walking was going to be an issue. Her ankle was throbbing. She put one hand on the wall to steady herself and limped slowly back to the main room. She heard the voices of her rescuers floating out of the hallway behind her.

  “Is she walkin’ sort of funny?” Ring Guy said to his companion.

  “Probably the shit. Told you it was good.”

  She made it back to the booth where Pandora was waiting.