“The pills may be knocking you out, but you aren’t getting the real rest that your senses need. You require sleep, Jack, quality sleep. Trust me on this.”
“I’m not taking any chances. When I sleepwalk I lose control.”
“I’ll be here.”
His mouth twisted in a cold smile that she knew was meant to be intimidating. “You’re the main reason that I’m not going to take the risk. A few nights ago I killed a man while I was in a fugue state, remember?”
“Only because you were trying to protect someone else. Don’t worry—I’ll keep an eye on you. If you show signs of weirdness or sleepwalking I’ll wake you up.”
“Do you really think you could pull me out of one of those episodes?”
“How hard could it be?” she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
He looked at her, not speaking.
She sighed. “It’s just dream energy. I can handle it.”
“But if you can’t? I have no way of knowing what I’ll do when I’m in that condition.”
“Relax. You won’t hurt me.”
“What makes you so damn sure?”
“I’ll admit that the ability to read dreamlight doesn’t have a lot of practical applications, but it is very useful when it comes to figuring out whether or not someone is likely to be dangerous.” She waved a hand at the carpet behind him. “I can read your prints. You’re not a danger to me.”
“Not in the waking state.”
“And not in the sleeping state. Now, go down to the front desk, book the adjoining room and get some sleep.”
He looked at the bed. “I can take a nap here.”
“No,” she said, keeping her tone very even. “You cannot under any circumstances sleep in this room. I won’t be able to work if you do.”
He frowned. “Why not? I won’t be pacing, and I won’t be looking over your shoulder—I’ll be asleep.”
She had tried to explain the complications of her talent to a few men over the years, but none of them had accepted the explanation, not really. Most, like Fletcher, had simply concluded that she was either deluded or that she had major intimacy problems. But Jack was different, she thought. Not only was he a strong talent, but he also had problems of his own with dream energy. Maybe he would understand.
“When people sleep, they dream, whether they are aware of it or not,” she said patiently. “I’m fine around most folks when they’re awake. Unless they’re mentally or emotionally unbalanced, their dream energy is suppressed. I only notice it if I open my senses and look at their prints. But when they’re asleep, they produce a lot of uncontrolled ultralight from the dream spectrum. If they are in close proximity, I have to concentrate hard to tune out the currents, and if I do that, I won’t be able to focus my attention on the lamp.”
He gave her a considering look. “Must be kind of weird.”
“Weird doesn’t begin to describe it.” A small shudder went through her. “Adult dream energy at full throttle is chaotic and weird and just way too intimate. I find it deeply disturbing.”
“What about kids’ dream energy?”
She shrugged. “I’m okay with that. The ability to dream seems to be something that develops over time. It usually matures along with everything else in the teenage years. The dreamlight of babies and children is generally so pale that I can usually ignore it.”
“I’ll be damned,” Jack said. “You can’t sleep with a man.”
“Not in the literal sense, no.”
“That’s why you practice serial monogamy, as you call it. Why your relationships don’t last. Why you’ve never married.”
“Why I used to practice serial monogamy. I’m celibate now, remember.” She managed her best client smile. “But back in the day I was every man’s secret fantasy. A woman who doesn’t mind having an affair with no strings attached.”
He contemplated that for a while. “It’s an interesting concept,” he agreed without inflection.
For some irrational reason, that hurt. She turned back to the lamp.
“Get the adjoining room, Jack,” she said. “I’ll make sure you don’t wander off.”
23
ULTRAVIOLET DREAMLIGHT STIRRED SLOWLY, SLUGGISHLY deep within the lamp. Like some primordial sea beast aroused from hibernation, the faint currents of energy shifted and swirled. She watched the rising glow, excitement and fascination sweeping through her. It was nearly midnight, but she had finally managed to make the artifact heat a little with psi. She was on the right track.
She had turned off the room lights earlier in order to be able to focus more intently. She was sitting in darkness, transfixed by the faint light of the lamp, trying to sort out the currents when the jolt of awareness struck. It came out of nowhere, shattering her concentration in a heartbeat. It took her a few seconds to realize that the disturbing new energy was not coming from the lamp. Jack.
She jumped to her feet and whirled to face the entrance of the adjoining bedroom. There was enough light from the cold neon of the casino sign across the street to show her that the door was still closed. She released the air she had not realized she had been holding in her lungs.
Jack was dreaming. But he had been asleep for nearly two hours and until now she had not been bothered by any stray dream vibes. He was in the other room with the door closed between them. She shouldn’t even be able to sense him from this distance. The energy that she was picking up not only was very strong but also carried the taint of some kind of heavy sedative.
He had promised her that he wouldn’t take any meds.
She crossed the room, made a fist and rapped loudly on the door.
“Jack? Are you okay?”
There was no response. Cautiously she opened the door, expecting to see Jack lying on the bed. But he wasn’t there. He was on his feet, looming directly in front of her.
“Jack. For Pete’s sake, you scared the living daylights out of me.” She glanced behind him and saw that the bed was still fully made. She could see the depression of his body on the bedspread where he had sprawled earlier. He had removed only his shirt and shoes. He was still in his trousers and black crewneck T-shirt. In the sparking neon light his face was an implacable mask, but his eyes burned with psi. So did the footprints on the carpet behind him.
“Jack?”
“I’ll keep you safe.” The words were spoken in a chilling monotone, devoid of all nuance and emotion. It was the voice of a man in a trance.