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All the Colors of Night

Page 22

by Jayne Ann Krentz


  “Yeah, right. It was just a thought.” Sierra pulled on her glove. “I’m trying to run a business, you know.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be well paid for this job.”

  “Remind Victor Arganbright of that when he complains that I padded my invoice by adding the cost of a brand-new SUV.”

  “I will.”

  North went down the aisle and stopped at the radio. He could feel the power trapped inside before he touched it. It spoke to him in a thousand shades of darkness.

  He took the screwdriver out of his small tool kit and went to work on the back plate of the radio.

  A moment later he lifted it off and set it aside. A gray crystal the size of a fist occupied most of the interior space. But unlike the crystal in Loring’s machine, this one was hot. Very, very hot.

  “This is what my grandfather died trying to protect,” North said. “The second tuning crystal.”

  Sierra shivered. “I can sense the energy in it. Is it tuned to your grandfather’s signature?”

  “No,” North said. “This crystal was originally designed for someone else to use.”

  “Crocker Rancourt.”

  “Most likely.” Gently, North inserted the crystal back into the radio. “It’s obvious that when Griffin began to get suspicious of Rancourt he switched out the crystals. Rancourt ended up with the one that was engineered for Griffin to use.”

  “That’s the one we found in Loring’s lab. The crystal that was shattered.”

  “Because Loring tried to make it work on the Puppets,” North said. “But that attempt was doomed to fail eventually. This is the crystal he needs, the one tuned to Rancourt’s signature.”

  “Now what?”

  “Now we do a deal.”

  Sierra eyed him warily. “What deal?”

  North’s eyes heated. “I’ve finally got something that Loring wants. I’m going to offer him this live crystal in exchange for the weapon that was used on my dad.”

  “And just how do you propose to do that?”

  North smiled an ice-cold smile. “The usual way. I’ll hire a go-between.”

  Sierra groaned. “I was afraid you were going to say that. Okay, I can try asking Mr. Jones to set up a deal, but there’s no guarantee that Loring will go for it.”

  “He will. I told you, he’s obsessed with this thing. Let’s get out of here.”

  Sierra looked around. “What about your grandfather’s body and the stuff in this chamber?”

  “I’ll reset the abyss gate on our way out.”

  “Wow. You can do that?”

  “Sure. Griffin has waited this long for a proper burial. He can wait a little longer.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Sierra made the phone call to Ambrose Jones using the landline phone in the library. She explained the deal she was trying to put together.

  “All right,” Jones said. “I’ll get the word out. Can’t guarantee that Loring will respond.”

  “My client is very certain Loring will jump at the chance to get his hands on this particular artifact,” Sierra said. “There’s just one problem.”

  “Only one?”

  Sierra looked out the window of the library. The fog was already creeping through the trees and settling in the small town square.

  “Mr. Chastain and I are stuck here in Fogg Lake until tomorrow morning,” she said. “The night mist has made the road out of town impassable. We’re told it will linger until daylight. That means the earliest we can get back to Seattle is tomorrow around noon.”

  “No rush,” Jones said. “You know as well as I do deals like this always go down at night. That means if it happens, it will happen tomorrow night. I’ll call you as soon as I hear from the buyer.”

  “My cell phone doesn’t work here. You’ll have to use the number I’m calling on—it’s a landline. The local library.”

  “What time does the library open in the morning?” Jones asked.

  “This particular library operates twenty-four hours a day,” Sierra said. “Call as soon as you hear anything. We’ll be here.”

  “You’re spending the night in the library?”

  “There’s no motel in town,” Sierra said. “Fogg Lake is filled with Foundation teams. Every trailer and every spare cabin is rented. Most of the locals are taking in Foundation staff as boarders to make a few extra bucks. Sleeping quarters are at a premium. Marge is bunking down in the back room of the general store. The Oracle graciously offered us the library basement.”

  “Hang on, you’re losing me here. Who’s Marge?”

  “The street lady who turned out to be a key witness in this case.”

  “And the Oracle?”

  “Town librarian,” Sierra said. “It’s complicated. Call as soon as you hear from the buyer.”

  “Will do,” Jones said.

  He ended the connection.

  Sierra was seated at the librarian’s desk. She put the phone down and looked at North, who was pacing through the stacks.

  “Now we wait,” she said.

  North came to a halt at the desk. Before he could say anything Harmony appeared on the stairs. Energy shivered in the atmosphere.

  “The fog grows stronger,” she intoned in her prophecy voice. “The danger is coming closer. This storm will end in madness and death.”

  North looked at her. “Out of curiosity, do you ever do happy, cheerful, positive-thinking prophecies?”

  “Sadly, not very often.” Harmony fell back into her normal voice. “Certainly not lately. How about dinner and a drink over at the restaurant? It’s lasagna night.”

  “Sounds good,” North said.

  CHAPTER 36

  Harmony came down the basement stairs after dinner bearing twin piles of quilts, sheets and pillows. She gave one stack to Sierra and the other to North.

  “There’s a bathroom down here in the basement,” she said. “It even has a shower. The library was originally built as a private house. Somewhere along the line it got donated to the town, and the local citizens voted to make it into a library. The heat’s working, so you should be warm enough. Get some sleep. You both need it. See you in the morning.”

  She disappeared back up the stairs to the main floor and then continued on to the upper level, where her own quarters were located.

  An odd silence gripped the basement. Sierra clutched her pile of bedding and reminded herself that she and North had spent two nights together. Granted, the first night had been dedicated to helping North overcome the effects of the poison infused into his special glasses. And sure, the second night had been spent on the hard floor of a cave, but still. Two nights together. To say nothing of the night when he had slept in her bed, which didn’t count. Or maybe it did. Regardless, they were both professionals. They could do this.

  Sierra took a deep breath and studied the labels on the end panels of each book shelf.

  “I’ll take ‘Fogg Lake Ancestry Records A–Z,’” she said.

  North wandered down one aisle, turned the corner at the end and reappeared in the neighboring aisle. “‘Records of Nineteenth-Century Paranormal Organizations’ looks like an interesting section.” He pulled a volume off the shelves. “Ever hear of the Arcane Society?”

  “I think my father may have mentioned it. Very secretive. Probably a legend. Why?”

  North flipped through the old book. “Evidently a family named Jones was heavily involved in it.”

  “Hmm. You’re wondering if Mr. Jones might be in some secret paranormal society? That wouldn’t surprise me. He’s been operating the Vault for a couple of years now, but no one knows much about him.”

  “Jones is a common name,” North said. “Probably just a coincidence. Except—”

  “There are no coincidences.”

  “Right.” North put the book back on the shelf.
“Okay, I’ll bed down in this aisle.”

  Sierra went down the ancestry-records aisle and spread the thick quilt on the floor. She arranged a sheet on top and a pillow at one end. She was aware that North was doing the same thing two aisles over.

  When she emerged from the small bathroom in the flannel pajamas she had manage to squeeze into her pack, she gave him a bright smile.

  “Your turn,” she said.

  “Right. Thanks.”

  He vanished into the bathroom.

  When he returned he flipped a light switch, plunging the basement into darkness. Sierra had been in the process of settling into her sheet and quilt. She jerked upright to a sitting position.

  “No,” she yelped. “Please. I know you can see just fine in the dark but I can’t stand a totally dark room. We’re in a basement, for heaven’s sake. No windows.”

  “Sorry.” North turned on the bathroom light and left the door open. “Does that work for you?”

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  In the shadows she could see that he was wearing a T-shirt and his cargo pants. He had his holstered gun in one hand.

  Sierra settled back down into the quilt and sheet. She listened to the small sounds North made as he removed the trousers. There was a muffled clunk when he put the gun on the floor.

  There was a long silence. Sierra gazed up at the shelves of books towering above her.

  “It occurs to me,” she said, “that this is not a good idea.”

  “What’s not a good idea?”

  “You and me, sleeping between rows of library shelves.”

  “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what could possibly go wrong?”

  “If there was an earthquake we would be buried under a pile of heavy books. Maybe killed.”

  “Thanks for pointing that out,” North said. “Now I won’t be able to sleep a wink.”

  “We could move under the big table,” Sierra said. “That would be much safer.”

  “In the event of an earthquake, you mean.”

  “Right.”

  There was another short silence.

  “All right,” North said. “Let’s move.”

  Sierra scrambled to her feet, gathered up the quilt, sheet and pillow, and walked, barefoot, out of the ancestry-records aisle. North was already at the long table, moving the chairs out of the way. She noticed he had taken the time to pull on his trousers and collect the gun.

  They arranged the quilts, sheets and pillows side by side. When they were finished North looked at her across the table.

  “There’s just one thing I would like to clarify,” he said.

  She summoned up her breeziest smile. “Don’t worry, I’m a professional.”

  “In Vegas, that could be interpreted a couple of different ways.”

  She felt the heat rise in her face and then worried that with his special night vision he might be able to tell that she was embarrassed. Annoyed, she glared at him.

  “You know what I mean,” she said.

  “Sure. And I respect your professionalism. Last night in the cave I told you that I didn’t kiss you the other morning because I was feeling grateful.”

  “Right.”

  “I also want to make it clear that I didn’t kiss you because I was overcome with a rush of post-adrenaline energy due to the fact that we nearly got killed that night.”

  “Oh.” She paused. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Because we were both riding an emotional roller coaster after all the excitement,” she said. “Everyone knows that kind of experience can induce a temporary sense of physical attraction.”

  “Turns out that in my case, it doesn’t seem to be temporary.”

  She took another deep breath. “It doesn’t seem to be temporary for me, either.”

  “Want to run an experiment? Try another kiss?”

  A thrill of anticipation zapped across her senses.

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I would like that. A lot.”

  North moved to the far end of the table. She went to meet him. For a few seconds they just stood there, looking at each other. She reached up and traced the line of his jaw with one finger.

  “Sierra,” he rasped.

  He covered her mouth with his own.

  The kiss exploded like a light grenade.

  Sierra told herself the raw energy that charged the atmosphere around them was probably generated by another adrenaline overload—it had been a busy day—but in that moment she did not give a damn. The heat filled her with a glorious sense of being alive. The fierce hunger in North’s kiss told her that he was caught up in the same crashing wave of desire.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, inviting him to deepen the kiss. He uttered a muffled groan and started to unfasten the front of her pajamas. The garment fell away. North’s palms closed over her breasts.

  “You feel so damn good,” he said.

  She inhaled his scent and got a little giddy.

  “You smell good,” she said.

  He gave a hoarse chuckle and went to work on the pajama bottoms.

  She got his T-shirt off and flattened her hands against his chest, savoring the sleek, hard feel of his body.

  “It’s been a while for me,” he said. “I want to take the time to do this right but I’m not sure—”

  “This is the no-waiting line,” she said. “It’s been a while for me, too.”

  She unfastened the front of his trousers and pushed them down over his lean hips. There were a couple of clinks and some small muffled thuds when the cargo pants hit the floor.

  “So many tools,” she whispered.

  He kissed her throat. “It’s important to use the right tool for the job.”

  She moved her hand down to the hard, fierce erection pushing against the fabric of his briefs.

  “Very true,” she said.

  He wanted her. The knowledge sent shivers of intense excitement across all of her senses.

  When she started to stroke him, he caught her hand.

  “I need a minute here,” he said. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said.

  He took off the briefs, unzipped his pack and reached into an inside pocket. He produced a small foil packet, tore it open and sheathed himself in one smooth motion.

  “Do all badass Foundation cleaners carry condoms in their packs?” she asked.

  “Can’t speak for the others but this particular cleaner bought some while you were shopping for cheese, wine and olives.”

  “Good to know you weren’t wasting all your time over in the nutrition-bar-and-vitamin-water aisle.”

  He came back to her, caught her face between his hands and gave her another heavy, drugging, senses-dazzling kiss. She was suddenly damp and consumed with an unfamiliar sense of urgency.

  North leaned down to haul the quilts and sheets out from under the table. He rearranged the bedding on the floor again, went down on one knee and drew her down in front of him.

  The next thing she knew he was flat on his back and she was sprawled on top of him. He was fever-hot and everything about him was rock-hard. When he reached down between her thighs she realized that she was soaking wet. He stroked her gently and she nearly screamed.

  He froze.

  “Damn,” he said. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, no, it’s fine.” She dropped wild little kisses all over his chest. “Really. I just wasn’t expecting it to feel so . . . so . . .”

  “What?”

  “Good,” she gasped. “I wasn’t expecting it to feel so good.”

  “So much for your intuition. Clearly I’m the psychic here. I knew you were going to feel good. Fantastic. Incredible.”

  She laughed with the sheer wonder of it all.

&nb
sp; He touched her intimately again, searching out the secret places, thrilling her senses. She moved one hand down to his erection and lower, cupping him.

  He grunted. “If you don’t stop I’m not going to last another two minutes.”

  “Of course you can last more than two minutes. You’re a tough, badass Foundation cleaner. You’ve got stamina. You’ve got talent. You’ve even got a magic wand. I know this because I am currently holding it in my hand.”

  “Of all the go-betweens working out of the Vault, I had to get the one with a locker-room sense of humor.”

  She laughed and squeezed him gently.

  “That does it,” he said.

  He used his hand on her again and she suddenly stopped laughing. She could not breathe. The tension that had clenched her lower body was released in a series of deep, rolling waves that rocked all of her senses.

  Before it was over—before she could catch her breath—he was easing her onto her back and coming down on top of her. He braced himself on his elbows and thrust into her in one slow, relentless move, filling her, stretching her. Tight. Tighter. She found herself hovering on the edge of another climax.

  “About the magic wand,” he said against her throat.

  She finally managed to take a full breath. “Impressive.”

  She gripped his shoulders with such force she knew she would probably leave marks from her nails on his skin. She wanted to scream with the sheer glory of it all. It was as if they were both drawing on the power of each other’s auras, channeling it into a force that was stronger and wilder than anything either of them could generate individually.

  And then, just when Sierra did not think she could handle any more stimulation, she came undone in a wildfire of sensual energy. She did scream then, but North covered her mouth with his own, swallowing the primal shriek. She wrapped her legs around him, trapping him.

  His climax pounded through both of them.

  Sierra opened her eyes. The basement was illuminated in a thousand colors that had no names.

  CHAPTER 37

  The phone on the librarian’s desk rang shortly after two o’clock in the morning, bringing Sierra out of a deep sleep. It took her a few seconds to orient herself.

 

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