“Yes,” Jack said. “I’d like that.” He looked at Chloe and smiled.
Chloe sensed the dreamlight swirling in the sunroom. Waves of energy danced invisibly between the two of them. The light was strong and steady. She knew it would link them for the rest of their lives.
“We would both like that,” she said.
60
THE OPERATION HAD NOT BEEN AN UNQUALIFIED SUCCESS. The lamp was back in an Arcane vault, and she knew that it would not be easy to steal it a second time. But there was no point taking that risk again, anyway. It was clear that the experiment had failed. Larry Brown had survived but only because of something that the dreamlight reader, Chloe Harper, had done to him. He certainly had not come out of the situation with a second talent or even an enhanced version of his original ability. He had no doubt lost all of what little talent he had possessed.
Conclusion One: Her grandfather’s theory was wrong. The Burning Lamp could not take the place of the formula. It appeared to work only on someone with the Winters psychic DNA.
Conclusion Two: The lamp could not be used to stabilize the effects of the enhancement formula.
Conclusion Three: Judging by the fact that Jack Winters and Chloe Harper had escaped from the gym, it appeared that there was some truth to the legends and rumors that had always swirled around the lamp. It was some kind of psi weapon, but it appeared extremely likely that only a Winters could access the full power of the artifact.
She’d had two major objectives when she conceived the plan. Although it was disappointing to discover that the lamp could not be used to enhance her own talent or to protect her from the effects of the formula, her second goal had been achieved. And in a spectacular fashion, if she did say so, herself.
John Stilwell Nash had been destroyed.
Her only regret was that Nash had died without ever having had a chance to appreciate the irony involved. He could not have known that the person who had set him up for the fall could trace her own family roots back to the same ancestor, John Stilwell.
The alchemists Sylvester Jones and Nicholas Winters were not the only ones who had fathered offspring after subjecting themselves and their genes to dangerous experiments designed to enhance their psychic powers. Back in the Late Victorian era, her own ancestor John Stilwell, a powerful talent enthralled by the new theories put forward by Darwin, had run a few breeding experiments of his own. Generations later, she and Nash were both the result of two of the experiments.
It was Stilwell who had stolen the secret of the enhancement drug from Arcane. Although he had never used Sylvester’s formula himself, fearing its dangerous side effects, he had managed to produce some highly talented offspring, using his intuitive understanding of the laws of psychical genetics. Stilwell had died at the hands of Gabriel Jones before seeing any of his children grow to adulthood. But his bloodline had survived. She was living proof.
She walked to the window of her office and looked out over the rain-soaked city of Portland. This morning John Stilwell Nash’s superior had offered her the position that Nash had recently vacated. Tomorrow she would walk into Nash’s old office at Cascadia Dawn, the cover business for one of the organization’s few surviving drug labs.
From there she would work her way into the Inner Circle. Her ultimate objective was now clearly in sight. In due course she would become the Mistress of Nightshade.
The knock on the door made her turn around.
“Come in,” she said.
The door opened. Humphrey Hulsey skittered into the room. He removed his glasses and began polishing them furiously.
“I know that you are disappointed with the outcome of the experiment, Miss Knight,” he said earnestly, “but I’m afraid that is the nature of cutting-edge science. There are always a number of failures before one makes the great breakthrough.”
“I understand, Dr. Hulsey. It is unfortunate that the lamp did not work as we had hoped. However, unlike my predecessor at Cascadia Dawn, I do appreciate the nature of the scientific process, and I am prepared to accept some failures. We will now move forward together.”
Hulsey stopped polishing his glasses. He blinked several times.
“Together?” he said.
“Of course. You are now my director of research. At the start of the Burning Lamp project I promised you the fully equipped lab and funding that you require for your dream work. That is what you will receive.”
Hulsey glowed. “Thank you, Miss Knight. You won’t be sorry.”
“I’m sure I won’t. You see, unlike so many before me who have been obsessed with the formula, I do understand that the secrets to enhancing talent in a stable fashion are locked in dream-psi research.”
“Yes, yes,” Hulsey said excitedly. “That is what I tried to explain to Mr. Nash, but he refused to listen. Both the formula and the lamp work by accessing the latent energy of the dreamstate. But dream psi is inherently unstable. That has always been the source of the problems with the drug. Until I can solve some of the riddles connected with the dreaming process I will never be able to deliver a stable, reliable version of the formula.”
She smiled. “Then it is a good thing that neither you nor I have been foolish enough to take the formula ourselves, isn’t it?”
He snorted derisively. “A very good thing, indeed, Miss Knight. Really, it astonishes me how otherwise seemingly intelligent people in this organization are so eager to dose themselves with such an unstable drug. Ridiculous.”
The fact that neither of them was on the drug was a secret between herself and Hulsey. In an organization run by formula-dependent talents, being free of the drug gave them an edge. But it also made them vulnerable. If the higher-ups ever discovered that she and Hulsey were not using the drug, it would be a death sentence for both of them. The board of directors insisted that all members of Nightshade be on the drug. It was the ultimate form of personnel management, the ultimate form of control.
“We are a team, Dr. Hulsey,” she said.
“A team,” he agreed.
61
THEY DROVE DOWN TO NORTHERN CALIFORNIA AFTER THE wedding, making a honeymoon out of the road trip. They followed the old route, Highway 101, hugging the spectacular coastline. Hector rode in the backseat, his nose stuck out the window as much as possible. At night they stayed at charming windswept inns, including one aptly named Dreamscape in a little town called Eclipse Bay.
They arrived in Scargill Cove in the early evening. The lights still burned in the offices of Jones & Jones. Chloe and Jack climbed the stairs to the second floor, bags of groceries in their arms, Hector at their heels. On the landing Jack raised his hand, but the door opened before he could knock.