Page 34 of Shattering Dawn
“And then one day I walked into an abandoned hotel, got slammed with a bout of amnesia, lost an entire night, and woke up the next morning with a whole new level of my basic talent,” she said.
“You would have been just as shaken, just as unnerved, if you had gone to sleep one night and awakened with a sense of hearing thatallowed you to listen to conversations taking place at the end of the block or across the street.”
“I would have been seriously rattled. Probably would have wondered if I was delusional.”
“Exactly.” Gideon reached for another slice of focaccia. “My point is that it’s all about control. It takes time to adapt to a powerful talent. It also helps if you have some guidance along the way. Evidently you and your friends did not have those benefits.”
“No.” She swirled the wine in her glass and met his eyes across the table. “Sounds like you did, though.”
“There’s a strong psychic vibe in the Sweetwater bloodline,” Gideon said with a casually dismissive gesture. “Has been for decades. Centuries, actually.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
She took a moment to absorb that information. “Do all of your blood relatives have your talent?”
“Paranormal abilities take different forms in different people. No two talents are identical. But, historically speaking, the Sweetwaters tend to wind up in careers that involve criminal investigation and security.”
“Why is that?”
His eyes heated a little. “Probably because we are very, very good at hunting bad guys.”
She got a ping warning her that he was telling her the truth but not the whole truth. “You said your family business involves security work for the government?”
“Mostly.”
Fascinated, she leaned forward and started to ask another question, but the server, a cheerful woman in her early twenties, chosethat moment to arrive with the main courses. She set the plates down and smiled enthusiastically.
“I hear you two are in town to photograph the old Lucent Springs Hotel,” she said.
“Word travels fast,” Amelia said.
“Yeah, well, small town and everything. Pete Ellerbeck, the guy who owns the Cactus Garden Motel, talked to my boss late this afternoon and said you might be in for dinner. My name is Madison, by the way. Pete also said you were planning to talk to people who have stories about the hotel.”
“That’s right,” Gideon said. “Do you know some of the history of that place?”
Madison chuckled. “Not the kind of history you’re probably looking for. When I was in high school my friends and I used to go out there to party sometimes, but I don’t think that happens much anymore. Things changed after that big hotel company bought the property and put up all the No Trespassing signs.”
“I never knew a No Trespassing sign to stop people looking for a party,” Gideon said.
Madison rolled her eyes. “The cops started paying more attention after three dumbass tourists went out there to do drugs one night and managed to start a fire. The hotel company is afraid someone will get hurt, so they’re going to take the place down to the foundation and try to sell the property.”
“We heard that,” Amelia said. She would ignore thedumbasscrack, she told herself. Priorities.
Gideon gave her an approving look, which only served to further annoy her.
Madison opened her mouth to say something else but a man seated on the other side of the room caught her eye.
“Gotta go,” she said. “Enjoy your dinner.”
There was a short silence. Amelia looked at Gideon. There was a thoughtful stillness about him.
“What?” she said.
He picked up his fork. “There’s no record of the offshore hotel company existing and yet the rumor here in Lucent Springs is that the nonexistent corporation is planning to go to the trouble and expense of demolishing a property that has no value. Why bother? Why not walk away and let the hotel rot into the desert? It’s not as if injured parties would be able to track down a phantom company and sue.”
“Okay, good question. Do you have an answer?”