He shoved himself up out of the chair and began to prowl the room, restless and edgy. “What about the blackouts that came afterward?”
“More side effects of the drug they used to keep you under. Meds that strong have very unpredictable effects on a lot of people, not just strong talents like you. What do you remember about the sleepwalking episodes?”
“Just that I left my condo on foot and walked all the way to a street on Capitol Hill and back each time.” He stopped pacing and turned to face her. “And there’s something else.”
“What?”
“I did not want to be seen. I deliberately left my condo building through the rear entrance in the garage, not the lobby. I remember being paranoid about it. I was convinced that someone was watching me. And sure enough, each time there was some guy out in the alley. I didn’t know who he was, but I knew that I didn’t want him to see me.”
“What did you do?”
“I used my talent to scare the daylights out of him. It worked. He got so frightened each time that he couldn’t take the shadows in the alley. He left but he was always back in position when I returned. I worked the same trick again and slipped inside the building while he was getting over his attack of nerves.”
“Sounds like whoever drugged you was having you watched.”
He examined the memories again, processing details and the time frame. “Why in hell would anyone drug me and hold me prisoner for twenty-four hours and then set up a surveillance operation?”
“They didn’t set you free. You escaped. Maybe they intended to keep you longer than twenty-four hours, but you got away and upset their plans.”
“And why was I so sick? Do you think the fever was the result of the amnesia drug?”
“I don’t know, maybe.” She watched him for a moment. “You said that during the sleepwalking episodes you walked up to Capitol Hill from your condo on First Avenue.”
“Right.”
“Where did you go on Capitol Hill?”
“The street where I ran into the killer who tried to murder the nurse.”
“What do you remember about the neighborhood?”
“It was quiet. There were a few small shops on the block, but they were all closed at night.” He stopped, adrenaline kicking in as another memory slid home. “Except for the gym. Damn, that’s it.”
“What?”
“The sounds I heard when I woke up in that little room. Gym machines.”
42
“THE LAMP,” FALLON SAID. PHONE CLAMPED TO HIS EAR, HE stood looking down at the darkened windows of the Sunshine Café. “Somehow this has got to involve that damn artifact.”
“How does that explain someone grabbing me off the street and drugging me?” Jack asked.
“You said the room where you were held looked like a hospital room. The first thing that comes to mind is that you were targeted for an experiment of some kind.”
“Why would Nightshade want to run an experiment on me?”
“Because you’re a Winters,” Fallon said, impatient now. He could feel it coming together, but some things were still too vague. He really needed to get more sleep. “Think about it. You’re a direct male descendant of Nicholas Winters. Nightshade is clearly having some problems with the formula. Maybe they’re looking for an alternative. The Burning Lamp was created for a similar purpose, to enhance naturally occurring talent and create additional paranormal abilities. Whoever took you may have wanted some samples of your blood for a little DNA testing and research.”
“Great. So I spent twenty-four hours as a lab rat. Wonder how long they planned to keep me.”
“Who knows? Maybe they didn’t intend to keep you around at all after they were finished with you.”
“Think they were going to kill me?” Jack asked.
“I can’t say yet—I just don’t have enough data. The thing is, you escaped, even though you were doped to the gills and running a high-grade fever. You managed to overpower one of their formula-hyped hunters.”
“So?”
“That probably made them very nervous, but it may also have convinced them that you actually do possess more than just one talent. They would interpret that as evidence that the lamp worked all those years ago and that Old Nick’s descendants are genetically enhanced.”
“All right, let’s play this out. I escape, and the first thing I do is go looking for a dreamlight reader and the lamp. They follow me and try to steal the lamp. Is that it?”
“I think so. Maybe.”
“You don’t sound like your usual ninety- eight-point-seven-percent sure self, Fallon.”
“Possibly because I’m not ninety- eight-point-seven-percent certain.”
“I’ve got some other information for you,” Jack continued. “I think that Nightshade or at least the guys who drugged me and tried to take the lamp are working out of a gym in Seattle. That’s where they’re recruiting the cheap-ass hunter muscle.”
“Huh.” Fallon smiled a little. This time there was an almost audible click when lines appeared between certain points of light on the multidimensional chessboard in his mind. This time he was sure. “I like that theory. It sounds right. Tell me more.”
“When I got my memories back tonight one of the things I remembered was that during my sleepwalking episodes I went back to a street on Capitol Hill where the only business open all night is a fitness club. I also remembered hearing the sound of gym machines coming through the ceiling of that little cell where they held me.”
Fallon headed back to his desk and picked up a pen. “Got a name and address?”
“Sure. But before you send in a team to take the place apart and scatter the bad guys, I suggest you have someone get some deep background on it. Check out the financials, ownership, that kind of thing. Follow the money, Fallon.”
“Can’t think of anyone better qualified than you to handle the job.”
Jack went silent on the other end for a few seconds.
“You want me to research the place for you?” he said finally.
“Why not? You’re the best there is at this kind of thing. Not to mention that you’ve got what I like to call a vested interest in the outcome.”
“I’m getting the impression that you don’t have a lot of financial strats or probability-talents under contract with J&J.”
“A couple but no one as strong as you.”