Page 53 of Shattering Dawn

“I’m coming with you,” she said.

“You’ll be safer in the car. Get into the driver’s seat and be ready to fire up the engine if anyone other than me comes out of the lobby.”

“Whoever left those tracks could be anywhere inside. You shouldn’t walk in cold. You need me to read the prints. Also, I know the layout of the hotel.”

“No.”

She took a breath. “I’ve got a feeling, Gideon.”

He hesitated and looked at her. “A feeling?”

“My intuition tells me I should go in with you.”

He considered that, his eyes heating in the shadows, and then apparently came to a decision. “You may be right. Stick close and stay behind me.”

“I understand.” She steadied her nerves and glanced down at the penlight in his hand. “Uh, shouldn’t you have a gun?”

“I hate to break this to you, but I don’t have a gun.”

“I see.” She dove into her tote. “Fortunately, I’ve got my Taser.”

“Have you ever actually fired that thing at someone?”

“Well, no, but don’t worry, I’ve done some target practice.”

She opened the door and jumped down to the ground. No longer muted by the windshield, the mist of prints laid down over the years abruptly became heavier and more ominous. The seething currents swirled around her ankles. The paranormal fog was cold.

A flash of primal fear warned her that if she fell into the ghostlyriver she might never get back to the surface. She froze, staring at the lobby entrance. The last time she had walked into the darkness she had lost a night of her life to amnesia.

“Amelia.”

Gideon’s voice was low and sharp with command. She responded instinctively, clamping down on her flaring senses.Control.She had to get stronger if she wanted to get her life back.Focus.She was a photographer. She understood the concept.

She concentrated, pushing back against the unwanted visions generated by her imagination. The mist faded, no longer threatening to pull her down into the depths.

“I’m okay,” she said.

And she was. Mostly. Gideon was right; she wasn’t tipping over into madness. She was adjusting to her new normal. She had to stop fighting it and embrace her new senses. She was the same person she had always been. Yes, the special sensitivity she had taken for granted all her life had been enhanced. But she could handle it. She was not going mad.

Gideon came around the front of the vehicle. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.”

She focused again on the recent energy prints that led into the dark lobby. Her newfound assurance gave her the confidence to pay closer attention to her intuition. She examined the pale currents in the footsteps. They rippled with an alarming vibe.

And suddenly she knew what she was looking at.

“We have to hurry,” she said. “Whoever went into that lobby tonight is badly injured. Maybe dying.”

Gideon did not question her analysis. Instead, he switched on thepenlight and swept the narrow beam across the entranceway. Amelia got another rush of anxiety when she noticed the dark spots on the concrete.

“I think that’s blood,” she said.

“I think you’re right. And it’s fresh.”

Gideon moved to the side of the doorway and aimed the light into the midnight shadows of the old lobby.

“My name is Gideon Sweetwater,” he said, raising his voice. “I’m a private investigator. It looks like you’ve been injured. Do you need help?”