Chapter Ten

The voluminous, lacy, pearl-studded bridal veil was crumpled into a big, frothy heap on his doorstep.

“Well, shit,” Gideon said. “Talk about lousy timing.” Bracing himself on his cane he leaned down and scooped up as much of the netting as he could grasp in one hand. He held it out to Amelia. “Would you mind holding this while I unlock the door?”

“Uh. Okay.” She stared at the veil for a beat and then looked at him. “Is there anything you want to tell me about your personal life before we leave town?”

“Not right now. Long story. I’ll tell you all about the bride who goes with the veil after we get on the road.”

“Okay,” she said again. “I guess.”

He got the door open and ushered her into the hall. She stepped inside, moving cautiously. The veil spilled over her arms and trailed on the terra-cotta floor.

“Just dump it on a chair,” he instructed. He gestured toward the living room. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I appreciate the shower at your place, but now I need to change clothes and pack an overnight bag.”

She looked down at the heap of gossamer netting in her arms. “Okay,” she said.

He hesitated and then reminded himself he did not have time to waste on explanations just then.

He left Amelia standing in the middle of the tiled floor, her arms full of wedding veil, and went down the hall to his bedroom. It didn’t take long to pull on a fresh shirt and trousers. He took a few more minutes to toss some clothes into a duffel bag and grabbed a windbreaker. It could get chilly at night in the desert at this time of year.

He was pleased to note that he was moving fairly well in spite of the scene in the service lane. To his surprise, he had gotten some decent, nightmare-free sleep in the recliner and his pain levels were minimal this morning. There were a few fresh bruises, but evidently he had not done any additional damage to the leg or the ribs.

He was, in fact, feeling better than he had any right to be feeling considering his recent activities. It helped that he had a new, very interesting case, but there was another element in play—the new, very interesting client.

So many questions.

His phone rang. He took it out, saw his uncle’s name, and took the call.

“What have you got?” he asked.

“I finally found my notes about the various individuals on that old list,” Shelton said. “I’ll send them to you but I’m not sure how helpful they will be. I marked a handful as unstable. But I don’t think you need to worry too much about them. That sort might end up as low-level criminals, possibly quite violent. Enhancing their paranormal senses, however, would also exacerbate the underlying instability. Even if they could tolerate the increased sensory input, they would lack the control required to plan and carry out an elaborate scheme involving kidnapping and illegal experiments.”

“They might make useful enforcers for whoever is running the project.”

“Maybe, at least for a while.” Shelton paused. “If you were going to use that type as muscle you’d want to be damned sure you could control them. They would be likely to turn on you in a heartbeat.”

“Got it.” Gideon zipped the bag shut. “The Frankenstein theory in action. Sooner or later, the creatures you create will destroy you. Anything else of interest in your notes?”

“Yep. The people on that list you really need to worry about are the subjects who tested as latent or semilatent but stable. If the full power of their paranormal senses was unleashed suddenly by a drug or trauma or some other means, they could become very dangerous, very fast.”

“I understand.”

“Here’s the important news, Gideon. Your new client is one of the test subjects I marked as stable and, therefore, potentially dangerous.”

Gideon smiled. “You have no idea.”

“What?”

“Never mind. I’ve got to run. Send me those notes.”

He ended the call, gripped the handle of the duffel, and used his cane to thud-thud-thud his way back down the hall and into the living room. Amelia was waiting. The wedding veil was piled on the seat of an armchair.

He looked at the yards of netting and groaned. “I’ve got an engraved wedding invitation and a bouquet of dead flowers to go with the veil.”

“That sounds…complicated.”

“Like I said, it’s a long story, but it’s not complicated. I’ve got a stalker, too.”