Page 19 of Shattering Dawn

“What happened to him?” she asked, suddenly uneasy.

“He’s in a coma.” Gideon finished the last of the cognac and lowered the glass. “He may or may not wake up.”

She stilled.

“Did you hit him with something?” she asked.

“Yes,” Gideon said. “But not with a physical object.”

Her breathing got very tight in her chest. “Are you saying you used your talent to put him into a coma?”

“He hit his head when he went down,” Gideon said. “That won’t improve his chances for recovery. But, trust me, he was out before he fell.”

She stared at him, trying to read his unreadable eyes. He did not sound triumphant, she decided. He wasn’t boasting. He wasn’t trying to impress her. His voice had a bleak, resigned quality. Whatever the truth of the matter, she did not doubt that he believed every word he had just said.

She unfolded her arms and tried to unobtrusively wipe her suddenly damp palms on her jeans. The assailant had no doubt hit his head very hard when he fell. That would explain his unconscious state. For the first time she wondered if Gideon was the one who was delusional.

“I’m not sure I understand,” she said carefully.

Gideon’s eyes got a silvery sheen that iced her nerves. Energy shivered faintly in the atmosphere.

“Be grateful you only see auras, Amelia,” he said. “There are more complicated talents.”

Aunt Cybil’s advice rang in her ears.Trust your intuition. Some things you know are true.

In that moment she decided she believed Gideon.

“I’ll get a blanket for you,” she said.

Chapter Nine

For the firsttime in months she turned off most of the lights before she got into bed. The exceptions were the bathroom fixture and the plug-in night-lights scattered throughout the apartment. Her stupid phobia seemed less intense tonight. She was pretty sure that was because of the battered private investigator sleeping on her recliner. He was a train wreck, but something about his energy suggested competence. At least he finally believed her.

She changed into her customary nightgown, brushed her teeth, and sat down on the edge of the bed. She opened a drawer in the nightstand and picked up the small black velvet pouch. Opening the bag, she removed the three crystals and set them out in a row on top of the nightstand.

She sat quietly for a time, taking in the soothing vibe of the crystals. Silently she chanted the mantra her aunt had given her:I am calm. I am serene. I am centered. I exhale the bad energy and inhale the good.

After a while she settled under the covers and reflected again on the fact that she knew almost nothing about her uninvitedhouseguest. His prints and his aura would be visible in the shadows now that most of the lights were off. It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick glance. In fact, it was the smart thing to do. She needed information about him.

She waited a few more minutes, absorbing the silence. When she was satisfied that he was probably asleep she eased the quilt aside and got out of bed.

She opened the door of her bedroom and padded softly down the hall. Her bare feet made almost no noise on the imitation wood floor. When she reached the entryway at the front door, she stopped. As long as she did not take a few more steps and go around the corner into the main room Gideon could not see her from his position on the recliner. She waited again.

Silence.

She went into her other vision and studied the splashes of energy on the floor. A nearby night-light cast a weak glow that muted but did not entirely mask the pools of paranormal radiance.

Gideon’s prints burned quicksilver-hot in the shadows.

Instinctively she took a step back. She was still struggling to read and interpret energy prints but she knew raw power when she encountered it. She was locked in for the night with the man who had laid down the tracks on her floor.

She took a deep breath. Okay, maybe Gideon did have some serious talent, but that didn’t mean he could actually render someone unconscious with a psychic punch. Did it? How could she possibly know? This was uncharted territory. She was still in the process of trying to cope with her own rapidly evolving senses. Still afraid of what the future might hold for her.

But although her nerves were shivering with acute awareness, she was not getting the dreaded vibe of an oncoming anxiety attack.There were none of the icy chills she had experienced when she had viewed the stalker’s disturbing prints the previous night. None of the ominous vibes she had detected in the prints left by Irene Morgan’s undercover cop boyfriend.

“See anything interesting?” Gideon asked from the living room.

She yelped, caught her breath, composed herself, and walked around the corner. There was enough ambient light slanting through the windows to reveal the recliner and its occupant.