Chapter Sixteen

Amelia walked through the resort parking lot like a woman walking a gauntlet. Tense, a little shaky, but resolute.

Gideon watched her out of the corner of his eye as they made their way toward the brightly lit entrance of the resort. When they reached the rectangular reflecting pool in front of the glass doors she visibly relaxed.

He stopped as if pausing to admire the brightly illuminated fountains that ran the length of the pool. Amelia halted and gave him an inquiring look.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“I think so,” he said. “This isn’t about you being nervous because you’re afraid you might run into someone who remembers you, is it?”

“I’m not sure what you mean—”

“A moment ago I was afraid you were going to have a panic attack. Do you want to explain why?”

“Lucent Springs holds a lot of bad memories for me.”

“You were doing okay this afternoon at the ruins. Tonight you almost fell apart in a parking lot. What’s wrong with this picture?”

“I did not fall apart, damn it.”

“No, but it was touch-and-go there for a while.”

“That is not true,” she said. She sounded like she was talking through clenched teeth. “You’re imagining things.”

He turned away from the pool and looked at her. “There’s something else going on here, and under the circumstances, I think I’ve got a right to know.”

“What circumstances give you that right? Let’s be honest. The only reason you took my case is because your uncle is responsible for that stupid list and you want to know who is doing what with it. Fine. That’s a perfectly reasonable motive and your goals align with mine, at least for the moment, because I want answers, too. We are working together because we need each other for the time being but that doesn’t give you a right to ask personal questions.”

“Correction. I took your case because of you, not the list.”

“Hah.”

“Okay, maybe the list was a factor, but it wasn’t the only factor. Let’s get something to eat. Also, I need a drink.”

He tightened his grip on his cane and started toward the glass doors. Behind him Amelia did not move. He stopped and turned around but this time he kept his mouth shut.

“If you must know, I’ve developed a phobia about night,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “That’s why I was seeing Dr. Pike.”

“The therapist who wanted you to book evening appointments? The guy who might be your stalker?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it? That’s why you were shivering back there in the parking lot?”

“You make it sound like it shouldn’t be a problem. Obviously you live a phobia-free life. How nice for you.”

“What, exactly, are you afraid of?”

She glared at him for a long time before she answered.

“I see things after dark,” she said, her voice low and tight. “Things I don’t want to see. It’s as if I’m catching glimpses of other peoples’ dreams and nightmares in their auras and energy prints. Sometimes I wonder—”

“If you’re going insane?” he asked.

“Well, yes.”

In the shadows her eyes glittered with unshed tears. Anger, he decided. Frustration. And fear. But the emotional storm was aimed inward. She was furious with herself. And she was scared.

He knew a lot about fear.

“Welcome to the dark zone,” he said. He took her arm. “Every talent has one. Let’s go get a drink and I will explain a few of the paranormal facts of life to you.”