Page 91 of Shattering Dawn

“Among other things that Dr. Fulbrook left behind in his room at the Cactus Garden Motel was a portion of a box with the label of the company on it. Oh, and he also left a helpful note.”

Cutler stared. “How did you discover that Fulbrook stayed in that motel?”

“I hired a private investigator, remember?” Amelia said. “I admit I had my doubts at first, but it turns out Mr. Sweetwater is very good at his job.”

Cutler flushed a violent shade of purple. “Sweetwater will be dead before the night is over.”

Amelia checked the time. “It’s been a few hours since he walked into your trap. He’s still alive. I’d know if he wasn’t. I’m psychic, remember?”

“You stupid bitch.”

“You don’t know what’s happening at Falcon’s house, do you? You’ve lost contact with whoever you sent to take out Gideon. No wonder you’re on the brink of a panic attack.”

This time she knew she had gone too far. Cutler moved toward her, rage heating his eyes.

“Dad, please,” Irene said quietly. “We need information. Let me finish questioning her.”

Cutler turned away without a word and resumed his restlesspacing. Amelia drew a shaky breath.Note to self: Try not to poke the bear again.

“Interestingly, the drug is not the result of a new scientific breakthrough,” Irene continued as if there had been no interruption. “From what we’ve been able to learn, it’s based on a formula that was developed in the course of some clandestine research conducted by the U.S. government back in the latter half of the twentieth century.”

“The Bluestone Project,” Amelia said.

“How much do you know about Bluestone?” Cutler demanded.

“Very little,” Amelia said. “Just that it was a top secret program designed to conduct research into the paranormal. The U.S. government was really into the psychic thing at the time. So were the Russians.”

Irene gave her an approving smile. “I’m impressed. TheLost Night Filescrew has uncovered some very closely held secrets.”

“We haven’t had much choice,” Amelia said. “You and your father stole a night of our lives. We want answers.”

“So do I,” Cutler grated.

“You’re the one who orchestrated this mess,” Amelia said. “That makes you the guy with the answers. What do you think I know that you don’t?”

Cutler took a few steps closer to her, stopping a short distance away. His eyes glittered with a feverish light.

“I want to know why you and your friends are still alive,” he said. “Why are you still sane? You should be dead or locked up in an institution by now.”

Amelia watched him warily. “Because?”

“You survived the first round of trials, but you haven’t had the fucking boosters.”

“Right. The boosters. Well, we can’t say for sure, but we have a couple of theories.”

Cutler took another step closer, hands bunched. “Tell me about your theories.”

“One is that our core paranormal senses were strong enough to handle the new sensory input, so we’ve been able to adapt. It wasn’t easy, you understand, but we managed.”

“That theory doesn’t explain anything.” Cutler resumed the restless pacing. “I’ve got a strong core talent. I tolerated the initial dose of the drug. I tolerated a second injection. The serum worked. But after that I realized I needed a booster. And then another. The same is true for the members of my security team who survived the first and second doses of the serum. We all require boosters. Why don’t you and the others?”

Irene was sitting very still now. She watched the scene taking place in the great room as if it were a high-wire act, one being performed without a net. The security people were staying out of sight.

“Let me get this straight,” Amelia said, feeling her way. “You’re asking me to diagnose your problem?”

Cutler froze. “Can you?”

“Maybe,” she said. “I’m still getting the hang of reading auras but I might be able to analyze yours.”