Illusion Town
Page 17
“Yeah, that was Grady.” She sighed. “At least I now know why he’s been so insistent about trying to get my attention. Turns out his assistant told a collector about my talent and the work I do. The collector knows I only work through referral so he’s asked Grady to broker a contract.”
“Does this collector know your identity?”
“No, I don’t think so. He probably would have tried to contact me directly if he knew how to find me. I’m a small player in the paranormal antiquities world.”
He smiled. “I found you.”
“Yes, you did,” she admitted.
“So Grady is trying to broker a deal between this wealthy collector and you.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve worked with a go-between,” she said. “It’s actually quite common in my business. A lot of us who trace lost and missing artifacts prefer to keep some distance between ourselves and the collectors. So long as I know the intermediary and trust his professionalism, it’s a reasonably safe way to work.”
“Do you trust Grady?”
“About as far as I can throw him. But I know him well enough to believe that in this case his motives are purely financial. I’m good with that. Business is business.”
“What about his assistant?”
“The lovely Kelsey?” Hannah shook her head. “She has access to Grady’s files so she knows how to find me. If she decides to sell the info to the collector there’s not much I can do about it. But if that happens I definitely won’t take the job.”
Elias whistled softly. “And here I always thought the mining business was a little rough around the edges. My world’s got nothing on yours when it comes to risk. You pretty much work without a net, don’t you?”
“It’s not that bad. I take precautions.” She waved her hand to indicate the world outside the window. “And I’ve got friends and family here in the DZ.”
“Right.” He held up the bundled sheets. “Where’s the laundry room?”
She pulled herself together. “I’m not going to wash those sheets. They’re going straight outside into the alley along with the quilt and the pillows and blankets. The mattress cover goes, too.”
He frowned at the mattress cover. “Looks like real silk.”
“It is silk. Cost a small fortune. Luckily I always keep a spare around.”
He raised his brows. “You’re going to throw all of it out into the alley?”
“Trust me, those sheets and the rest of the bedding will be gone by morning. We’ve got what you might call an after-hours market here in the DZ. Someone will be thrilled to get that bedding. It’s practically brand-new. I’ll get a box to put it in.”
Elias’s eyes darkened with understanding. “It’s a dreamlight talent thing, isn’t it? You’re afraid there might be enough residual energy in the psi-prints the intruder left behind to affect your sleep and maybe your dreams, right?”
“You can’t wash out that kind of paranormal residue,” she said. “Fortunately, silk makes a decent barrier. That’s what saved the mattress. Otherwise I’d be looking at buying a new one. Do you have any idea how much mattresses cost?”
He thought about it. “No, can’t say that I do.”
Of course not, she thought. He was a Coppersmith. In his world there were people—staff—who took care of the mundane things in life.
“Never mind,” she said. She started to turn away. “I’ll get a box for the bedding. I’ve got plenty in my back room.”
“Don’t,” he said quietly.
She paused, looking back over her shoulder. “Don’t get a box? I don’t want to put that nice bedding on the pavement.”
“I’m not talking about the damned bedding. I mean don’t try to shut me out of your world just because things are a little different where I come from. That’s what you were thinking, isn’t it? My family has made a fortune over the years, therefore I don’t have a clue about what life is like in your world. I don’t even know how much a mattress costs because I’ve never had to shop for one. You’re right. But it shouldn’t be an issue, not for us.”
She went very still. “Why isn’t it an issue?”
“Because you and I have spent the past couple of days getting to know each other under some very rough circumstances. Got a hunch we know more about each other now than most couples do who meet through one of the high-end matchmaking agencies.”
She caught her breath. “Do you really believe that?”
“What I believe is that I’d trust you to have my back anytime, anywhere. I trust you, full stop.”
Whatever she had been expecting to hear, that was not it, she thought.
“Here, in my world, that is the most important thing in a relationship,” she said.
“It’s the most important thing in my world, too.”
His eyes burned with a little heat. She opened her senses to the strong, steady currents of his aura. A curious shiver of certainty whispered.
“I trust you,” she said.
He smiled. “So maybe the we-come-from-two-different-worlds thing shouldn’t be a big problem for us.”
It probably would be a big problem, she thought. But not just now.
She smiled. “Forget the crack about the price of mattresses.”
“Deal.”
She found a carton in the back room of the shop. Together they folded the almost-new sheets, pillowcases, and expensive quilt. She placed the bedding in the box. Elias carried it out into the alley.
By the time he returned, the apartment immediately felt less tainted.
She went back upstairs to get the old set of sheets and bedding out of the cupboard. She started to make the bed by herself but Elias came up the stairs without a word and helped her finish the task.
He tucked the sheets in with a precision that told her it was not the first time he had made a bed. She thought of the cool, competent way he did everything, from driving his car to packing his field gear.
She had not known him for long, she thought. But the time they had shared together had been shot through with stress and danger and, yes, passion.
He was right. You learned a lot about a person under such conditions.
When they finished making the bed Elias straightened and met her eyes across the short distance that separated them.
“Will you be able to sleep here tonight?” he asked.
The taint of the intruder’s dreamlight was gone. She would probably have a few bad dreams because even though the bastard’s energy had been removed, there was no getting around the knowledge that her home had been invaded.
“I think so,” she said.
“You need some real sleep. I’ll take the sofa.”
It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t trying to guilt-trip her into inviting him into her bed. He was giving her space.
She smiled. “Your choice. But just so you know, you’re welcome to sleep here. With me.”
He visibly relaxed. “Okay.”
“I have to warn you, though, this might be a bad night for me.”
“Even with the clean bedding?”
“Even with the fresh bedding.”
He shrugged. “Might be a bad night for me, too. If my dreams disturb yours, just wake me up. I’ll move to the sofa.”
“It’s more likely the opposite will happen,” she warned.
He shook his head. “I can handle your dreams if you can handle mine.” He took out his phone. “Right now I need a drink and that pizza.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Chapter 24
The small stones struck the window just as Hannah set the pizza carton on the table. Ping, ping, ping. A pause, and then, ping, ping.
“That’s Runner’s signal,” she said.
Virgil had been engrossed with his self-appointed task of supervising the preparations for se
rving the pizza. But the pings distracted him.
He chortled, hopped down from his perch on the back of a kitchen chair, and vaulted up onto the windowsill.
“Looks like Runner knows you’re back in town,” Elias said.
“Word travels fast in the DZ. Besides, his crew has been keeping an eye on this place while we were gone, remember?”
She crossed to the window. Elias had been pouring a second glass of wine for each of them. He set the bottle aside and went to join her.
She opened the curtain and looked down into the alley. Night had fallen hours ago, but thanks to the nearby ruins, it was never entirely dark in the DZ. The alley behind the apartment was steeped in acid green shadows but it was easy to see Runner standing below the window. He was dressed in his signature black leather jacket and black trousers. A black cap was pulled down low over his eyes, partially concealing his profile but there was no mistaking his expensive running shoes and his lean, wiry build.
Hannah unlatched the window, hoisted it, and leaned out.
“Hi, Runner,” she said, keeping her voice low.
“Heard you were back,” he said. He tipped his head a little to look up at her. His attention switched to Elias. “Also heard the husband was still hanging around.”
“Yeah, I’m still here,” Elias said. He gripped the windowsill. “Out of curiosity, do you mind telling me how you heard that we were back?”
Runner’s shoulders shifted in an elaborate shrug. “Word on the street, man. I just came to check it out. Make sure Hannah was okay.”
“I’m fine,” Hannah said. “I finished the out-of-town job and I’m ready to reopen for business. Well, I will be as soon as I clean up the mess the intruder left behind.”
Elias leaned forward a little and looked down at Runner. “Any luck identifying the guy who tossed Hannah’s place?”
“I got nothing on him,” Runner said. He sounded deeply disgusted by the failure. “Sorry, Hannah. I’ll keep asking around.”
“Maybe you’ve got more than you realize,” Elias suggested.
Runner squinted up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If the intruder was from the neighborhood you would have a name by now, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” Runner said. “In the DZ you can’t keep a secret like that for long.”
“So we know he’s an outsider,” Elias said. “How often do you get strangers this deep into the Dark Zone?”
“Not often. When we do get ’em, it’s usually because they wandered in by accident. They don’t hang around for long, at least not after dark. The energy around here tends to freak out a lot of people.”
“This out-of-zone guy knew exactly where he was going, yet Hannah says she’s never seen his prints in her shop until the night he tossed the place.”
“Huh.” Runner sounded intrigued. “Hadn’t thought about that. But what does that tell you?”
“Not sure yet but we know something else, as well. This guy from out of the zone hit Hannah’s place the one night she was gone all night. We didn’t get back here until after dawn the next morning.”
Startled, Hannah looked at Elias. “I never thought about that angle. How did he know I wasn’t home that night? Do you think he’s been watching me?”
“Nah.” Runner sounded very sure of himself. “Someone in the DZ would have noticed a stranger hanging out in this neighborhood, keeping an eye on you.”
“Good point,” Hannah said.
Elias considered that briefly. “Maybe he paid someone local to watch her?”
Runner grunted. “Anything’s possible, I guess. But people in the DZ are pretty tight. If someone did get paid for selling out a local, it would be big news around here. Haven’t heard anything like that.”
Hannah drummed her fingers on the windowsill. “There is another, simpler possibility.”
Elias and Runner looked at her.
“What?” Runner asked.
“The photo of us leaving the Enchanted Night Wedding Chapel was in the early edition of the Curtain yesterday morning,” Hannah said. “That edition was already going into the newspaper vending machines by the time we left the Shadow Zone Motel. We saw a delivery van, remember? By the time we got back here we were both fielding phone calls from people who wanted to know if the story was true.”
“That photo was taken around midnight,” Elias said. “We know that because that’s when we showed up on the doorstep of the wedding mill. But the so-called reporter probably filed the photo and the piece naming us within minutes. It would have appeared online almost immediately. No self-respecting editor at the Curtain would have sat on that story for long.”
Runner shrugged. “I saw it around two that morning on my phone. I was making a delivery in Star Hook Lane.”
“There you go,” Hannah said. “No need to look for a rat among my neighbors. All we have to do is get a list of the Curtain’s online subscribers. The perp will probably be on it.”
Elias and Runner looked at her as if she had lost her senses.
“Are you kiddin’?” Runner demanded. “Everyone reads the Curtain. Must be thousands of online subscribers.”
“I know,” Hannah said. “Just trying to lighten the mood with a little humor. I really need to get some sleep.”
Chapter 25
The dream-walking started the way it always did . . .
The doppelgänger got up from the bed and looked down at the two sleeping people. At the foot of the bed, the dust bunny stirred and opened all four eyes. He looked at the dreamer—not at the doppelgänger. He appeared attentive, but not alarmed by the heavy currents of dark dreamlight that shifted in the atmosphere. He recognized the dreamer’s vibe. He also sensed in the unfathomable way of animals that when the dreamer went walking on the astral plane, it was important.
The man had been lying on his back but now he stirred, turned, and settled onto his side. He wrapped one arm around the dreamer’s waist, cradling her against his body. The crystal in his ring glowed with a little heat.
“Amazing,” the doppelgänger said. “We’re not giving him nightmares.”
“Yet,” the dreamer said. “Look, I’m trying to sleep here. Been a tough couple of days in case you weren’t paying attention. I’m not in the mood to do any dream-walking tonight.”
“You love him, you know.”
“Just a case of mutual attraction and circumstances.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Is that why we’re chatting here?”
“No.” The doppelgänger crossed to the mirror. “You can deal with that problem some other time. Tonight there is something else you need to think about.”
“What?”
The doppelgänger looked into the mirror, as though entranced by her own reflection but there was no image reflected in the glass. There never was.
The doppelgänger reached out toward the top drawer of the dressing table with hands that could feel nothing; nor could they grasp the knob on the drawer. But the gesture reminded the dreamer that she had put her clutch in that particular drawer.
“My purse?” the dreamer said. “Again? What now?”
“The fortune you got from Sylvester Jones, the fortune-teller at the Midnight Carnival,” the doppelgänger said. “It’s still in the purse you carried that first night.”
“What about it?”
“It’s important.”
“Why? What are you trying to tell me?”
“Pay attention. It all started with the carnival.”
The doppelgänger turned and drifted back to the bed, fading fast. The dreamer tried to hang on to the fragments of the dream, trying to discover clues. There were more questions to be asked.
But the doppelgänger had finished dream-walking.
Hannah came awake on the familiar shock of reorientation. J
olted by the adrenaline rush she sat straight up in bed, pulse skittering. Elias’s arm fell away.
Virgil fluttered across the bed. She gathered him close and took a few deep breaths while he made small, comforting noises.
After a moment her senses calmed. She suddenly remembered Elias. When she turned her head she saw that he was still lying beside her, his arms folded behind his head on the pillow. He watched her with understanding eyes.
“Bad dream?” he asked. “Or a dream-walking episode?”
He sounded matter-of-fact, as though he was fine with being rudely awakened by what must have been a storm of dreamlight.
Well, at least she hadn’t sent him running out of the bedroom screaming.
“Dream-walking,” she said. She hugged Virgil a little tighter. “Geez, I hate reentry. Takes a few seconds to adjust.”
“Understandable.” He unfolded his arms and held one hand in front of his face so that he could contemplate his ring. “Interesting.”
“Your ring getting a little hot? Maybe it’s what protects you from the effects of my dreamlight.”
“Huh.” He continued to contemplate the crystal. The fire at the heart of the stone was rapidly disappearing. “I don’t think so. There’s something else going on here—maybe something involving our auras.”
Alarm jolted through her. “Do you think my talent is starting to affect yours?”
That sort of thing was rare between powerful talents, but when it did occur it was considered the ultimate toxic relationship.
Elias looked at her, his eyes heating a little. “Maybe but in the nicest possible way.”
Energy shifted in the atmosphere. She knew he had deliberately jacked up his talent, letting her feel the power in it.
Virgil, evidently growing bored with the complexities of human relationships, wriggled free of Hannah’s arms, grabbed the Arizona Snow doll, hopped off the bed, and scurried out the bedroom door.
Hannah ignored him. She could not look away from Elias. His eyes continued to burn and she knew he could see the heat in her own gaze. They were both running hot now.