Authors: Jayne Castle
Until a couple of weeks ago she had been making her living selling tea and giving aura readings every Wednesday and Saturday at the Crystal Rainbow Tearoom in the Old Quarter. She had been trying to recover her sense of inner balance following the disturbing events that had occurred on her last trip to Rainshadow Island.
Oakford had found her in the Crystal Rainbow. Why he had wandered into the tearoom that day, she had never discovered. It was not his kind of place. But a quick glance at his aura had warned her that he had some real talent. Her first thought was that he had found it amusing to watch her do the readings. A lot of people treated aura readings as a form of fortune-telling—a parlor trick that was not to be taken seriously.
But Oakford had been serious. He had ordered a cup of tea, sat down at a small table in the corner, and quietly observed her work for nearly an hour. In the end he had been convinced that she was a natural—a talent who could not only read auras but also diagnose disorders of the parasenses. He had concluded that she would be useful to him at the clinic and promptly dazzled her with the promise of a high salary and—more important—a respectable opportunity to practice her healing abilities.
He had said nothing about the monsters.
“Here’s the problem, Dr. Oakford,” she said. “Lancaster does not present with a simple instability of the aura.” She was rather proud of the
does not present
line. It sounded clinical, she thought, very professional. “There’s a whole chunk of the normal spectrum missing in his energy field. Think flatlined.”
“That’s not possible,” Ian snapped. “If his aura was flatlined, he’d be dead.”
“Not his entire aura. But there is a blank section on his spectrum. It’s like someone shut down the lights in that region.”
“I would remind you, Miss Blake, that it is your job—indeed, the mission of this clinic—to turn on those lights for our patients.”
“Okay, maybe the light thing was a bad analogy. Let me try another approach. In the old days, people would have said Lancaster was soulless. That was always a big element in the traditional vampire myth, you know. Today most laypeople would tell you that Lancaster lacks anything resembling a conscience.”
“This is a parapsychiatric clinic, Miss Blake,” Ian said. It sounded as if he had his teeth clenched. “We do not deal in matters of religion or philosophy. We are focused on using modern science to diagnose and heal illnesses of the parasenses.”
“And a worthy goal that is,” she said quickly. “I’m all for it. In fact, I was thrilled when you asked me to come to work here. I’ve always felt I had a calling to do this kind of work. Oh, wait, that sounds sort of religious or philosophical, doesn’t it? I mean, if my life had taken a different direction, I might have had your job.”
Ian’s eyes hardened. “Think so?”
Okay, that had been a tactical mistake.
“Well, no, probably not,” she admitted. “I wasn’t born for upper management.”
Another poor choice of words, she realized.
Ian flushed a dark red. Alarmed, she rushed to calm the gathering storm.
“I’m more of an entrepreneur,” she explained. “I could never do the kind of work that you do. What I’m trying to tell you is that I can’t fix Marcus Lancaster or anyone else like him.”
“In that case,” Ian said evenly, “your services are no longer needed here at the Chapman Clinic. You’ve got fifteen minutes to clear out your desk. A member of the security staff will escort you to the door.”
Although she knew an escort to the door was standard procedure when someone got fired, it hurt to know that Ian did not trust her.
“Afraid I’ll steal some paper clips or a list of your drug company clients on my way out?” she asked.
Ian shook his head and exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry about this, Rachel. I really believed that you would be an asset to my team.”
She rezzed her talent. The charms on her bracelet flashed lightly on her wrist, generating just enough ultralight to allow her to view Ian’s energy field. Ian was angry, but he was also experiencing genuine disappointment and regret. He had taken a chance on her, hoping that she might give him an edge in the highly competitive world of parapsych drug research, and she had failed him.
She heard Carl and Marcus Lancaster in the hall behind her. She did not turn around, but she could feel the monster’s energy.
“Isn’t she lovely, Carl?” Lancaster asked. “Miss Blake is going to be my bride, you know. The voices tell me that she’s my perfect match. We have so much in common.”
“Congratulations,” Carl said. “Be sure to send me an invitation to the wedding.”
“I’ll do that,” Lancaster said, sounding pleased.
“Meanwhile, it’s time for lunch.”
“Yes, of course,” Lancaster said. “Do you suppose there will be quiche and perhaps a nice white wine at lunch today? I haven’t had a decent meal since I arrived here.”
“This is Wednesday,” Carl said. “That means meat loaf.”
“I really don’t like meat loaf,” Lancaster said. “But I will tolerate anything so long as I can be near my beloved. Her radiance lightens my aura like a fine champagne.”
“No wine at lunch, either,” Carl said.
“I was afraid of that,” Lancaster said.
Carl guided him along the hallway.
“Damn it, Rachel, whatever you did to Lancaster in that therapy session has worsened his condition,” Ian said. He kept his voice low, but it was plain that he was not just angry; he was concerned for his patient.
Rachel shuddered but she did not turn around. She listened to the retreating footsteps, suddenly very glad to know that in fifteen minutes she would be out of the building and far away from the clinic.
“I know you don’t want to hear this,” she whispered back, “but Lancaster is deliberately acting crazy. His aura is very stable—scary stable, in fact. He is in full control of himself and his talent. He’s a full-on psi-path and he’s dangerous, sir.”
“You’re wrong,” Ian said. “There is definitely instability in Lancaster’s aura. He is an ideal candidate for the drug trial that I am conducting.”
“Right.” She clutched her notebook to her breasts. She really needed to get out of the clinic. She fought the suddenly overwhelming urge to run. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go pack up my office.” She started to move around him and paused. “I do have one piece of advice for you, although you probably won’t take it.”
Ian narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Do not believe anything Marcus Lancaster says.”
“If you have any proof that he’s lying, now would be a real good time to provide it,” Ian said, his expression fierce.
She tried to come up with something, anything that would impress Ian.
“His ear stud,” she said.
Ian blinked. “What about it? The crystal isn’t tuned amber. It can’t be used to generate energy. That was checked out when he was admitted. The patients are not allowed to possess amber. And it’s certainly not gem quality. It’s just a cold, decorative stone of some kind.”
She took a deep breath. “Here’s the thing, sir. I’ve seen stones like it before. Also, you should know that Lancaster doesn’t need amber or charged crystal to use his parasenses. He’s a natural. I think he has a mid-level talent for psychic hypnosis, but that’s not my point.”
“Ridiculous. There is no such talent.”
“I didn’t expect you to believe that, but think about this, sir: Why would a guy who wears designer suits and watches that probably cost more than the entire city-state budget wear a cheap ear stud?”
“Probably because it has sentimental value,” Ian snapped, exasperated.
“Trust me, there isn’t an ounce of sentiment in Marcus Lancaster.”
“What makes you think that you are qualified to offer an opinion on Lancaster’s parapsych profile?” Ian said. “You were selling tea and giving aura readings when I found you at the Crystal Rainbow.”
“Yes, I was, and I think I’ll go back to that career. I don’t seem to be cut out for clinical work or for the mainstream world, come to that.”
She tightened her grip on her notebook and stepped around Ian.
“Rachel—”
Surprised by the hesitation in his voice, she paused and turned back.
“Yes?” she said.
“Even though you were technically here on probation, I’ll see to it that you receive two weeks’ severance pay,” Ian said quietly.
“Thanks. I appreciate that. I spent a fortune on new clothes for this job. I’ll be paying off the credit card for a while.”
“I suppose you’ll be going back to the Crystal Rainbow Tearoom?”
“No,” she said. “I think it’s time for plan B.”
“You’re going to return to the Harmonic Enlightenment Academy?”
“No. The truth is, I don’t belong there, either. Ever heard of Rainshadow Island?”
“No,” Ian said.
“Not many people have. It’s one of the islands in the Amber Sea. It’s not even on most maps. My great-aunts ran a bookshop and café there for a couple of decades. Several months ago they retired and moved to the desert. They left Shadow Bay Books to me. I’ve just let the shop sit, closed up, until I could decide what to do with it. In the back of my mind the shop was my fallback plan in case things didn’t work out for me here in Frequency City. Good thing I didn’t sell it.”
She started walking again, heading toward her office.
“One more thing,” Ian said.
She paused and turned back to face him again. “What now?”
“You said you’d seen stones like the one in Lancaster’s ear stud.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“On Rainshadow Island. As far as anyone knows, that’s the only place they have ever been found. They’re called rainstones.”
She hurried away down the hall to the tiny office that had been allocated to her. Two months ago when she had accepted the position at the clinic, she had been so excited at having her very own office that she had taken dozens of photos of the small, spare space and emailed them to everyone in the family. She shook her head at the naïve memory. As if an office was proof that she had found her place in the world.
“I should have known this wasn’t going to work out,” she said into the silence. “Not like I wasn’t warned.”
It took ten minutes, not fifteen, to gather up her personal possessions and dump them into a cardboard box. Carl was waiting at the door. He looked unhappy.
“I’m really sorry about this, Miss Blake,” he said. “It’s been nice having you here. The patients all like you. So do I. Things seem more cheerful and sunnier here when you’re around.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Carl, but Dr. Oakford is right. It’s best that I leave. I don’t belong here.”
Carl cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose you happen to have any more of that tea that you blended for me, do you?”
“Not here in the office, but I’ll mix up another batch and send it to you.”
Carl brightened. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”
Five minutes later she was alone on the street, the cardboard box containing her things tucked under one arm, her purse slung over her shoulder. The low, dark clouds opened up as she walked quickly toward the bus stop. Naturally she would get caught in the rain without an umbrella today, she thought. Some days were just flat-out unharmonic from start to finish.
The cold, sleeting rain plastered her tightly pinned hair to her head and soaked her new black low-heeled pumps. The shoes would be ruined. Not that it mattered, she told herself. No one wore black low-heeled pumps on Rainshadow. Boots, athletic shoes, and sandals were the norm there. And she just happened to own a new pair of boots.
She waited for the bus, chilled to the bone but aware that she felt a lot better now that she was away from the Chapman Clinic.
She would survive the rain and the loss of the job. What mattered was that she would never again find herself alone in a therapy room with Marcus Lancaster. Because she was quite certain it was no coincidence that he had manipulated the situation so that they had wound up together today. If she remained on the staff at the clinic, he would manipulate things to ensure that there were more such encounters. She knew that as surely as she knew the Principles.
Another shiver of apprehension swept through her. Rainshadow was plan B, but the thought of returning to the island made her uneasy. Something had happened to her the last time she was there—something unnerving. Twelve hours of her life had vanished.
She had gone into a psychic fugue late one afternoon and wandered into the forbidden territory of the Preserve. Somehow she had not only survived the night in the dangerous woods, but she had also done what most people who knew the island considered almost impossible—she had managed to find her way out of the Preserve.
She had emerged at dawn the following morning, but she had no memories of the night.
She had, however, collected some souvenirs along the way—dark dreams that now haunted her sleep, the faint memory of ethereal music being played somewhere in the night, and a handful of rainstones.
***
Jayne Castle
, the author of
Canyons of Night
,
Midnight Crystal
,
Obsidian Prey
,
Dark Light
,
Silver Master
,
Ghost Hunter
,
After Glow
, and
After Dark
, is a pseudonym for Jayne Ann Krentz, the author of more than fifty
New York Times
bestsellers. She writes contemporary romantic suspense novels under the Krentz name, as well as historical novels under the pseudonym Amanda Quick. She lives in Seattle. You can find her online at www.jayneannkrentz.com.
Titles by Jayne Ann Krentz writing as Jayne Castle
The Lost Night
Canyons of Night
Midnight Crystal
Obsidian Prey
Dark Light
Silver Master
Ghost Hunter
After Glow
Harmony
After Dark
Amaryllis
Zinnia
Orchid
The Guinevere Jones Novels
The Desperate Game
The Chilling Deception
The Sinister Touch
The Fatal Fortune
Titles by Jayne Ann Krentz writing as Amanda Quick
Crystal Gardens
Quicksilver
Burning Lamp
The Perfect Poison
The Third Circle
The River Knows
Second Sight
Lie By Moonlight
The Paid Companion
Wait Until Midnight
Late for the Wedding
Don’t Look Back
Slightly Shady
Wicked Widow
I Thee Wed
With This Ring
Affair
Mischief
Mystique
Mistress
Deception
Desire
Dangerous
Reckless
Ravished
Rendezvous
Scandal
Surrender
Seduction
Other titles by Jayne Ann Krentz
Copper Beach
In Too Deep
Fired Up
Running Hot
Sizzle and Burn
White Lies
All Night Long
Falling Awake
Truth or Dare
Light in Shadow
Summer in Eclipse Bay
Together in Eclipse Bay
Smoke in Mirrors
Lost & Found
Dawn in Eclipse Bay
Soft Focus
Eclipse Bay
Eye of the Beholder
Flash
Sharp Edges
Deep Waters
Absolutely, Positively
Trust Me
Grand Passion
Hidden Talents
Wildest Hearts
Family Man
Perfect Partners
Sweet Fortune
Silver Linings
The Golden Chance
eSpecials
The Scargill Cove Case Files
Anthologies
Charmed
(with Julie Beard, Lori Foster, and Eileen Wilks)
Titles written by Jayne Ann Krentz and Jayne Castle
No Going Back