She settled down to wait, the cell phone cradled in one hand.
NINETEEN
He got the door open with the useful little J&J gadget that Fallon issued to all his agents. Automatically he heightened his senses and moved inside.
The only warning he got that he was not the only one in the room was the hot flash of a seriously jacked-up aura. Hunter.
He spun around to face the threat. The cane went out from under him. He went down hard on the carpet. The fall saved him.
The hunter’s thwarted rush carried him straight into the bed. He recovered with the lightning-swift reflexes that were the hallmark of his talent, seeming to bounce off the comforter and back onto his feet.
Luther didn’t even try to rise. No one without a similar talent could hope to defeat a hunter in hand-to-hand combat. Instead he focused quickly and slammed everything he had at the attacker’s pattern, dousing the fiery energy with a tsunami wave of crushing ennui.
The hunter staggered and reeled back, disoriented. He sank onto the bed.
“Shit,” he muttered. “How the hell do you do that?”
“Who are you?” Luther kept the suppressing energy flowing at full power while he got to his feet. “What are you doing here?”
The room was in near total darkness but that wouldn’t bother the hunter. With his talent powered, he had excellent night vision. Luther couldn’t see a thing except the other man’s aura. That was enough.
“I think it’s a good bet that we’re both here for the same reason,” the hunter said. “To get some information on Eubanks.”
“You sure you aren’t here to take him out?”
“Plans have changed.”
The hunter started to come up off the bed. He made no sound but his aura shifted a split second before he did.
“Don’t move,” Luther said. He accompanied the warning with an extra shot of energy.
The hunter sank back down onto the bed, literally too weary to get to his feet.
“That really is a nifty trick,” he said. “How long can you keep it up? Must be a hell of an energy drain.”
It was true that he was using an enormous amount of energy to immobilize the hunter. He saw no reason to admit that, however. But the casual manner in which the other man had used the term “energy drain” was interesting. Few people outside the Society, even those comfortable with their psychic natures, would have phrased it quite that way.
“Are you Arcane?” the hunter asked.
“You could say it’s in the blood. You?”
“J&J.”
“Of course you are. No wonder she had a bad feeling about this job.”
“Who?”
“My scheduler. Last night she informed me that she was having doubts about the client and the whole damn situation. This morning she canceled the contract and told me to go home. But I just had to have a look at Eubanks’s room. After all these years, you’d think I’d know enough to pay attention to her intuition.”
“Who is the client?”
“Called herself Winthrup. That’s the code name for our Number Two client. Her story checked out.”
“She identified herself as female?”
“No. The real Winthrup is male. Like I said, my scheduler is a strong intuitive. She had a hunch that whoever contacted us was not the real deal.”
“Any idea why this Winthrup wanted Eubanks removed?”
“We were informed that he had murdered two wives and a young woman but that isn’t why we were given a contract. His major offense, according to Winthrup, is that he is engaged in laundering money for a group that finances terrorists.”
“You work for the government?”
“Private contractor. We’ve got a very short list of clients. A certain government agency is one of them. That’s where the real Winthrup works.”
The cell phone in Luther’s pocket vibrated urgently. He yanked it out and glanced at the code. Grace.
“Eubanks is on his way back here,” he said. “He’s got a hunter bodyguard with him.”
“The hunter will sense that there was some action in this suite.”
“I don’t think so. My associate assures me that the bodyguard is not a full hunter. Seems to lack a few of the usual skills, including the ability to pick up the spoor of violence.”
“Not much of a hunter, then. Well, this is over for me. Good thing, too. My first grandchild is due to arrive at any minute. The family is gathering to celebrate the big event. Mind letting me up?”
“One more thing,” Luther said. “Got any proof of your version of events?”
“How about if I say the magic words?”
“Which are?”
“Tell Fallon Jones that Sweetwater sends his regards.”
“You know Fallon?”
“We’ve only got two clients. Number One is J&J.”
TWENTY
“You ran into Harry Sweetwater in Eubanks’s hotel room?” Fallon sounded genuinely startled, a rare state of affairs. “Son of a gun. What are the odds?”
“You keep saying that.” Luther reached the sliding glass doors, turned and started back across the suite. The cane thudded heavily on the carpet. “Here’s the thing, Fallon. You’re supposed to know the damn odds. That’s your job, remember? Figuring the odds? Connecting dots? Running probabilities? This is a major screwup. What the hell is going on? Did you forget to mention that you’d sent a pro after Eubanks?”
He was very aware of Grace sitting on the sofa looking concerned. The aftereffects of using such a heavy volume of energy to keep Sweetwater planted on the bed were hitting him hard and she obviously knew it. The adrenaline and other biochemicals that had flooded his bloodstream had worn off, leaving him jittery and cold. He hated this part, hated looking exhausted in front of her. The damn cane was bad enough.
“I didn’t send Sweetwater after Eubanks,” Fallon said.
“Who else besides J&J would want Eubanks dead?”
Grace raised her hand. “Someone who wants his job?”
“I heard that,” Fallon said. “I like it. Makes sense, given what we know about Nightshade. It’s a tough outfit.”
Luther stopped and looked across the room at Grace. “Sweetwater said his scheduler thinks that the person calling herself Winthrup was a woman. Evidently the real Winthrup is a man.”
“Sweetwater’s scheduler is his wife,” Fallon said. “She’s probably right. High-level intuitive.”