She felt heat rise in her face. “Sex?”
He looked amused. “Sex is directly connected to survival. Trust me, our psychic senses are very tuned into the vibes associated with reproduction.”
“Oh.” Probably best to let that subject drop.
“But powerful emotions such as fear and rage and twisted lust are all linked to danger so our parasenses have adapted to be more keenly aware of them,” he continued. “Our normal senses have, too, for that matter.”
She absorbed that. “I see.”
There was another silence. The sensation of intimacy in the small, fire-lit space grew stronger. She could sit here talking to this man for the rest of her life, she thought. The temptation was incredibly appealing and probably dangerous. Time to shatter the spell before it became unbreakable.
She straightened a little in her chair. “What do you want, Zack Jones? And please don’t try to tell me that the Arcane Society suddenly gives a damn about me. If anyone cared they would have been in touch a long time ago.”
His eyes narrowed faintly. She knew she had scored a point.
“I’m an agent for Jones & Jones,” he said. “Ever heard of it?”
Shock lanced through her. So much for the aura of intense intimacy. She called on every ounce of self-control she possessed and gave him her very best screw you smile.
“Oh, yes,” she said very softly. “I’ve heard of J&J.”
He nodded as if he had suspected as much. “So you do remember. I thought so.”
“I remember very well that it was a J&J agent named Wilder Jones who destroyed my father’s life’s work and burned his lab to the ground. I also think there is a very high probability that Aunt Vella was right in her theory that the man from J&J arranged for my father to die in that car accident. If you’re with Jones & Jones, you’ve wasted your time tracking me down. I can’t imagine any reason in the world why I would lift a finger to help you.”
Eight
“We have a deal,” he reminded her.
Get a grip, woman, she thought. He was no longer the only other person she had ever met who truly comprehended what it felt like to live with her strange psychic talent. He was the man from J&J. She must not forget that.
“No, we do not have a deal,” she said. Damn it, she could be just as cool and emotionless as him. “You entered my room a few minutes ago waving that envelope and I accepted it. But I made no promises in exchange.”
“By taking the envelope, you gave me an implied promise.”
“So sue me.”
He smiled that easy, confident smile again. “Don’t worry, when you hear the story, you’re going to want to cooperate with my investigation.”
“Give me one good reason why I would want to help anyone from J&J.”
“Only one reason?” He shrugged. “My investigation is going to involve your family history. Will that do?”
“What?”
“I think you’re a lot like me when it comes to control. You like it and you’re good at it. I can guarantee you that the only way for you to exert some control in this situation is by cooperating with me. You’re smart and you’ll figure that out real quick. Once you do, we become a team.”
“You’re investigating my family?” She was beyond dumbfounded, she decided. She was baffled.
“Indirectly.” He glanced at the black steel watch on his wrist. “I’ll tell you about it over dinner, assuming we can find a quiet place to talk in this burg.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Using a level-ten talent takes an energy toll on the body. I’m always ready to eat after I’ve been jacked up.”
He was right. She suddenly realized she was ravenous.
“I really don’t think dinner is a good idea,” she said.
“Shows how much you know. Eating dinner is one of the best ideas I’ve had all day.”
There was no point fighting this. Now that he had dropped the first shoe she would not be able to rest until she heard the second. Besides, she was hungry.
“Think of going out to dinner with me as a medical decision,” Zack said.
“How does it get to be medicinal?”
“You really need a glass of red wine, don’t you?”
She thought about that. “You know, you’re right. This is very close to being a medical emergency.”
“Let’s go.”
With a deceptively easy movement he uncoiled from the chair, scooped the envelope off the low table, and went toward the door. He didn’t glance back at her. He knew she couldn’t resist going with him, knew she had to get the answers that only he could give her.
For some bizarre reason she was almost overcome by the urge to laugh.
“Damn,” she said instead. She pushed herself to her feet. “You’re good.”
He took her long black raincoat off the hook beside the door and held it for her.
“I know,” he said. “It’s a gift.”
They went out into the hall and downstairs to the lobby. At the front desk Burton Rosser looked up from a magazine. Burton was about as nondescript as a man could get, Raine thought. Even his age was hard to pin down. She guessed him to be in his late thirties but he could have been much younger or older. He was a fidgety, slightly built man with dirty blond hair and eyes that never stayed still. She got the feeling that he spent a lot of time looking over his shoulder. She wondered who or what was pursuing him.
“Lucky you called ahead and reserved a room before you got here,” he grumbled to Zack. “Place filled up all of a sudden.”
Zack looked out at the small parking lot. Raine followed his gaze and saw a small herd of news vans.
“Didn’t take long for the media to show up,” Zack said.
“Yeah, they got the rest of the rooms,” Burton muttered. “By the time the cops from Seattle and Portland rolled in, we were full.” He appeared relieved by that turn of events. “Had to send ’em down the road to the motel.”
Zack nodded, took Raine’s arm and steered her toward the door.
Burton stared hard at Raine. “Heard you and Doug Spicer were the ones who found that girl in the basement of the witch’s house today.”
Raine stopped suddenly and swung around to face him. The long folds of the black raincoat flared out around her boots.
She said nothing, just looked straight at Burton.
Burton flushed a dark red. He blinked several times very rapidly.